#it is simply that whatever you’ve produced isn’t something people are that interested in

[discountalien-pancake]

Why are people being so fucking weird about demanding reblogs of polls? No one owes you publicity??? And on that note, nobody owes you reblogs for anything else either!! Liking something and scrolling past is literally not an insult, and yall need to get over yourselves, my god.

[christophermraerdon]

The Different Types of Content Creation and What They Mean

If you’re a business owner, there’s a good chance you’ve heard the term “content creation” before. But what does content creation actually mean? In short, content creation is the process of creating content for your website or blog. This can include anything from articles and blog posts to videos and infographics.

There are many different types of content that you can create, each with its own purpose and meaning. Here are some of the most popular types of content:

Blog Posts: A blog post is a piece of writing that covers a specific topic in detail. Blog posts are usually between 500-1000 words long, although there are no hard and fast rules about this. They can be written by anyone on your team who has something interesting to say about your industry or product.

Videos: Videos are an incredibly powerful way to connect with your audience. They allow you to show off your products or services in action, which can be much more effective than simply telling people about them . Videos also give you an opportunity to build trust and relationships with potential customers by showing them who you are as a company . You don’t need expensive equipment to make quality videos – even a smartphone will do! Just remember to keep them under 2 minutes long so people don’t get bored .

content creation meaning – What is it and why does it matter?

Content creation is the process of generating new content for your website or blog. This can include writing articles, creating videos or podcasts, and even generate new photos. Creating fresh and engaging content helps to attract new visitors to your site, and keep existing readers coming back for more.

Why does content creation matter? Quality content is one of the key elements of a successful online presence. It helps you build trust with potential customers, establishes you as an expert in your field, and drives traffic to your site. When done correctly, content marketing can be a powerful tool for growing your business.

content creation tools

Creating content can mean different things to different people. For some, it might simply be writing a blog post or article. Others might create more visual content, like infographics or videos. Whatever the form, creating high-quality content is an essential part of any digital marketing strategy.

One of the most important aspects of creating great content is understanding your audience and what they’re looking for. What are their pain points? What information do they need? Once you know this, you can start to craft engaging and informative pieces that will resonate with your readers (and help you achieve your business goals).

Of course, producing quality content isn’t always easy – it takes time, effort and sometimes a little bit of creativity. But there are plenty of resources out there to help you get started, including online courses, templates and even hire someone to do it for you!

types of content creators

As the name suggests, a content creator is someone who creates content. Content can take many different forms, from blog posts and articles to videos and social media posts.

There are many different types of content creators, each with their own strengths and weaknesses. Here are some of the most common:

1. Bloggers: Bloggers are often thought of as the original content creators. A blogger typically writes lengthy pieces on a particular topic or niche, providing valuable information for their readership. While some bloggers do make money from advertising or sponsorships, many others simply use their platform to share their thoughts and ideas with the world.

2. Article writers: Similar to bloggers, article writers create informative pieces of writing that are usually published on websites or in magazines/newspapers. However, unlike bloggers, article writers typically write for a specific publication rather than having their own website or blog. This means that they need to be able to pitch ideas that fit within the scope of what the publication is looking for. 3 Video creators: As platforms like YouTube continue to grow in popularity, so too do video creators (also known as YouTubers). These individuals create all sorts of videos – from vlogs (video blogs) documenting their everyday lives to gaming walkthroughs and tutorials – which they then upload onto YouTube for people to watch . Many video creators also have other channels dedicated to things like music , comedy , beauty , fashion , etc . 4 Social media influencers : With over 2 billion active users across all platforms , it ‘ s no surprise that social media has become one

what kind of content should you create?

Creating content can mean different things to different people. For some, it might simply be a matter of writing an article or blog post. Others may see it as more than that, including developing strategies for marketing and SEO purposes. No matter what your definition is, there are certain types of content that are generally considered to be effective.

-Educational pieces that teach readers something new

-How-to guides that provide step-by-step instructions

-Lists and roundups featuring useful resources

Whatever type of content you create, it’s important to make sure that it’s well researched, engaging, and informative. If you’re able to do this, you’ll likely find success in attracting an audience and driving traffic to your website or blog

how to come up with ideas for creating new content

Creating new content can be a daunting task. Whether you’re trying to come up with ideas for a blog post, article, or even just social media posts, it’s important to have a process that works for you. Here are a few tips on how to come up with ideas for creating new content:

1. Start by brainstorming potential topics. Write down anything and everything that comes to mind, no matter how weird or random it may seem. Once you have a list of potential topics, start narrowing them down based on what would be most relevant and interesting to your audience.

2. Take inspiration from other sources. If you’re struggling to come up with original ideas, take some time to browse through other blogs or articles in your industry. See what others are talking about and look for ways that you could add your own spin on the topic. This doesn’t mean simply copying someone else’s work – instead, use it as inspiration for something new and unique that only you can offer.

3 . Keep an idea journal . Whenever something pops into your head that could potentially make for good content , jot it down in a notebook or create a quick note on your phone . That way , when ti me comes t o sit down an d actually write something , yo u ‘ll already have some solid ide ass To work With .

4 Ask y ourself q uestions abou t potentia l topi cs … What proble ms do m y readers h aven ? What wo uld they lik e t o learn more abo ut? Ho w can I

ways to repurpose old content

If you want your content to maintain its relevancy and appeal, make sure to keep it evergreen. That means regularly updating it with new information, statistics, data, etc. Doing so will ensure that people keep coming back for more!

Make sure your content is easy to share by adding social media sharing buttons or embedding it onto other platforms like Medium. This way, people can easily spread the word about your great content!

One way to breathe new life into old content is by creating an eye-catching infographic from its key points and data sets. People love visual information, so this could be a great way to get more mileage out of your existing material!

Another popular format these days is video – if you have the resources available, consider recording yourself reading aloud or presenting your old article in slide form as a “video tutorial” of sorts. You can also create screencasts which are very effective as well!5 5

tips for making yourcontent stand out

When it comes to creating content that stands out, there are a few things you can do to ensure your material is top-notch. Here are seven tips to help you create content that will get noticed:

1. Write RELEVANT and TIMELY Content

This may seem like a no brainer, but in order for your content to be successful, it needs to be relevant to your target audience and timely enough that they’ll want to read it. There’s no use in writing an article about last year’s trends – unless of course you’re giving advice on what not to do. In which case, maybe consider turning the focus of your piece around so it becomes evergreen content. That way people will always find value in what you have written no matter when they come across it.

No one likes reading a novel masquerading as an blog post or article; we just don’t have the time! People skim online more than they read word for word these days, so make sure your main points jump off the page by using short paragraphs, headlines and bullet lists where possible. And if you absolutely must write something longer, at least break it up with images or videos so there is some visual interest throughout the piece. Otherwise, chances are people will quickly become disinterested and click away from your site before even getting halfway through what you have written.

If you want people to actually find your content after hitting publish, then keywords are goingto be

Conclusion

In conclusion, content creation can mean a lot of different things. It can be anything from creating blog posts to making videos. Whatever form it takes, content creation is an important part of any business or individual’s online presence. By understanding the different types of content creation and what they mean, you can better tailor your own content strategy to meet your needs and goals.

The post The Different Types of Content Creation and What They Mean appeared first on SwiftCreator.com.

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[barbarewjohnson]

The Different Types of Content Creation and What They Mean

If you’re a business owner, there’s a good chance you’ve heard the term “content creation” before. But what does content creation actually mean? In short, content creation is the process of creating content for your website or blog. This can include anything from articles and blog posts to videos and infographics.

There are many different types of content that you can create, each with its own purpose and meaning. Here are some of the most popular types of content:

Blog Posts: A blog post is a piece of writing that covers a specific topic in detail. Blog posts are usually between 500-1000 words long, although there are no hard and fast rules about this. They can be written by anyone on your team who has something interesting to say about your industry or product.

Videos: Videos are an incredibly powerful way to connect with your audience. They allow you to show off your products or services in action, which can be much more effective than simply telling people about them . Videos also give you an opportunity to build trust and relationships with potential customers by showing them who you are as a company . You don’t need expensive equipment to make quality videos – even a smartphone will do! Just remember to keep them under 2 minutes long so people don’t get bored .

content creation meaning – What is it and why does it matter?

Content creation is the process of generating new content for your website or blog. This can include writing articles, creating videos or podcasts, and even generate new photos. Creating fresh and engaging content helps to attract new visitors to your site, and keep existing readers coming back for more.

Why does content creation matter? Quality content is one of the key elements of a successful online presence. It helps you build trust with potential customers, establishes you as an expert in your field, and drives traffic to your site. When done correctly, content marketing can be a powerful tool for growing your business.

content creation tools

Creating content can mean different things to different people. For some, it might simply be writing a blog post or article. Others might create more visual content, like infographics or videos. Whatever the form, creating high-quality content is an essential part of any digital marketing strategy.

One of the most important aspects of creating great content is understanding your audience and what they’re looking for. What are their pain points? What information do they need? Once you know this, you can start to craft engaging and informative pieces that will resonate with your readers (and help you achieve your business goals).

Of course, producing quality content isn’t always easy – it takes time, effort and sometimes a little bit of creativity. But there are plenty of resources out there to help you get started, including online courses, templates and even hire someone to do it for you!

types of content creators

As the name suggests, a content creator is someone who creates content. Content can take many different forms, from blog posts and articles to videos and social media posts.

There are many different types of content creators, each with their own strengths and weaknesses. Here are some of the most common:

1. Bloggers: Bloggers are often thought of as the original content creators. A blogger typically writes lengthy pieces on a particular topic or niche, providing valuable information for their readership. While some bloggers do make money from advertising or sponsorships, many others simply use their platform to share their thoughts and ideas with the world.

2. Article writers: Similar to bloggers, article writers create informative pieces of writing that are usually published on websites or in magazines/newspapers. However, unlike bloggers, article writers typically write for a specific publication rather than having their own website or blog. This means that they need to be able to pitch ideas that fit within the scope of what the publication is looking for. 3 Video creators: As platforms like YouTube continue to grow in popularity, so too do video creators (also known as YouTubers). These individuals create all sorts of videos – from vlogs (video blogs) documenting their everyday lives to gaming walkthroughs and tutorials – which they then upload onto YouTube for people to watch . Many video creators also have other channels dedicated to things like music , comedy , beauty , fashion , etc . 4 Social media influencers : With over 2 billion active users across all platforms , it ‘ s no surprise that social media has become one

what kind of content should you create?

Creating content can mean different things to different people. For some, it might simply be a matter of writing an article or blog post. Others may see it as more than that, including developing strategies for marketing and SEO purposes. No matter what your definition is, there are certain types of content that are generally considered to be effective.

-Educational pieces that teach readers something new

-How-to guides that provide step-by-step instructions

-Lists and roundups featuring useful resources

Whatever type of content you create, it’s important to make sure that it’s well researched, engaging, and informative. If you’re able to do this, you’ll likely find success in attracting an audience and driving traffic to your website or blog

how to come up with ideas for creating new content

Creating new content can be a daunting task. Whether you’re trying to come up with ideas for a blog post, article, or even just social media posts, it’s important to have a process that works for you. Here are a few tips on how to come up with ideas for creating new content:

1. Start by brainstorming potential topics. Write down anything and everything that comes to mind, no matter how weird or random it may seem. Once you have a list of potential topics, start narrowing them down based on what would be most relevant and interesting to your audience.

2. Take inspiration from other sources. If you’re struggling to come up with original ideas, take some time to browse through other blogs or articles in your industry. See what others are talking about and look for ways that you could add your own spin on the topic. This doesn’t mean simply copying someone else’s work – instead, use it as inspiration for something new and unique that only you can offer.

3 . Keep an idea journal . Whenever something pops into your head that could potentially make for good content , jot it down in a notebook or create a quick note on your phone . That way , when ti me comes t o sit down an d actually write something , yo u ‘ll already have some solid ide ass To work With .

4 Ask y ourself q uestions abou t potentia l topi cs … What proble ms do m y readers h aven ? What wo uld they lik e t o learn more abo ut? Ho w can I

ways to repurpose old content

If you want your content to maintain its relevancy and appeal, make sure to keep it evergreen. That means regularly updating it with new information, statistics, data, etc. Doing so will ensure that people keep coming back for more!

Make sure your content is easy to share by adding social media sharing buttons or embedding it onto other platforms like Medium. This way, people can easily spread the word about your great content!

One way to breathe new life into old content is by creating an eye-catching infographic from its key points and data sets. People love visual information, so this could be a great way to get more mileage out of your existing material!

Another popular format these days is video – if you have the resources available, consider recording yourself reading aloud or presenting your old article in slide form as a “video tutorial” of sorts. You can also create screencasts which are very effective as well!5 5

tips for making yourcontent stand out

When it comes to creating content that stands out, there are a few things you can do to ensure your material is top-notch. Here are seven tips to help you create content that will get noticed:

1. Write RELEVANT and TIMELY Content

This may seem like a no brainer, but in order for your content to be successful, it needs to be relevant to your target audience and timely enough that they’ll want to read it. There’s no use in writing an article about last year’s trends – unless of course you’re giving advice on what not to do. In which case, maybe consider turning the focus of your piece around so it becomes evergreen content. That way people will always find value in what you have written no matter when they come across it.

No one likes reading a novel masquerading as an blog post or article; we just don’t have the time! People skim online more than they read word for word these days, so make sure your main points jump off the page by using short paragraphs, headlines and bullet lists where possible. And if you absolutely must write something longer, at least break it up with images or videos so there is some visual interest throughout the piece. Otherwise, chances are people will quickly become disinterested and click away from your site before even getting halfway through what you have written.

If you want people to actually find your content after hitting publish, then keywords are goingto be

Conclusion

In conclusion, content creation can mean a lot of different things. It can be anything from creating blog posts to making videos. Whatever form it takes, content creation is an important part of any business or individual’s online presence. By understanding the different types of content creation and what they mean, you can better tailor your own content strategy to meet your needs and goals.

The post The Different Types of Content Creation and What They Mean appeared first on SwiftCreator.com.

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[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 10

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sam helps you out in planning for the launch while Bucky is away.

Word Count: 4.2k (woopsies)

Warnings: SMUT is back, angry unprotected sex, spitting, a tiny hint at scratching and choking, some hurtful words thrown in yada yada yada, kinda intense asjkcackansk

A/N: STRAP THE FUCK IN BECAUSE WE BOUTTA RIDE A DAMN ROLLERCOASTER OMG I’m nervous for this because I found this part very intense while writing it. And I hope it comes across as that to y’all as well because my fingers ached from how hard I was typing this part lmfao. Team Bucky vs Team Reader/Team Sam here we goooo sksksk enjoy

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

You didn't accept Sam's invitation to connect in LinkedIn. Not yet. But it did give you several ideas, like maybe submitting a resignation letter? Get away from Bucky and his toxic ass? He has Mackenzie now, he can easily have her take over your position anyway.

However, you were also torn because you loved your job at Bucky's company. It paved way for you to improve your skills and you experienced a lot of growth too. And well, Bucky's there too but god, you hated him right now. As much as you wanted to wave the white flag, you didn't feel like it was the right thing to do.

You wanted Bucky to learn that not everything he wants, he can easily get. And Mark was right, that you weren't just a trophy employee or whatever. You were so much more than what Bucky probably thinks of you.

And you were going to prove him that.

-

"Hey, Bev. Can you ring up your boss for me? Tell him I want to go over some of the plans I made for the launch before I discuss it with Mackenzie tomorrow." you asked.

Beverly was about to lift the phone up when an unexpected visitor arrived. None other than Sam Wilson himself.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop but did I hear you correctly? You've already made some plans for the launch?" he asked with interest.

You chuckled, "Sort of. Well, it's a rough draft of my ideas. I just thought it would be nice to get a headstart." you admitted.

Sam nodded and was about to say something when Bucky stepped out of his office, his brows furrowing upon seeing you and Sam conversing. Bucky eyed you before glancing over at Sam, patting his shoulder gently as a greeting.

"You checking up on us or what?" Bucky teased with a chuckle.

Sam shook his head, "Not really. Well, kinda. I figured that another presentation would be unnecessary, I mean. I'd love to work on the launch with your team instead of being on the sidelines for approvals." he admitted.

You shrugged, "I think that's a great idea too. Less time to waste, less back and forth." you pitched in.

Bucky frowned a bit, his jaw clenching at how you backed up Sam immediately. "That's fine, but I have a meeting in a few. Might last the entire day. Mackenzie won't be here until tomorrow too." he said.

"She and I can discuss her plans today and maybe I can pitch in some of my ideas too. She can present them tomorrow to you and Kenzie." Sam suggested, gesturing over to you.

Bucky stared at you and Sam alternately, his hands balling into fists at his sides. You could see his internal struggle about leaving you and Sam to discuss about the launch, without his presence.

You lifted up the folder in your hand, "I wanted to go over these plans with you but I didn't know you have a meeting. Sam and I can just refine these today, would save us a lot of time. We don't want to be rushing anything for this project at the last minute." you told him.

Bucky swallowed but nodded anyway, albeit with hesitation, "Yeah. Of course. I'll just catch up on the both of you later."

And with that, Bucky walked away but not without sparing you and Sam one final glance. His eyes met yours for a brief moment and you weren't sure, but you saw a flash of worry in his eyes before it was immediately replaced by his usual stern, ice-cold gaze.

You turned to Sam with a smile, "We can discuss in the conference room." you said and led the way.

-

The planning was seamless and you were surprised that you had so much fun exchanging ideas with Sam, to the point of almost forgetting about lunch break. It was quarter past noon when the both of you realized that it was way past lunch time.

"Do you want to grab lunch or order something instead? I honestly hate working lunch, just so you know." Sam said with a laugh.

You groaned, "I hate that too, honestly." you admitted with a chuckle.

Sam nodded, "Great, we can head out for a quick lunch?" he asked.

It didn't even cross your mind to hesitate, so you immediately agreed and even asked if you can take Beverly with you. You'd grown somewhat attached to her in the short time you've known her. Poor kid was being treated like an outcast by the other office girls. She always waited for you to have your lunch break too, especially that Mark has been pretty busy lately.

Sam was kind enough to agree about including Beverly for lunch. The two of you were about to head out of the conference room when Beverly peeked in, worry etched all over her face.

"I need your help." she whined, "I think I messed up Sir James' schedule. Mister Nakajima is on the phone and said that he's going to be an hour late for a meeting today. I forgot about Sir James’ meeting with another company today!" she explained, almost close to tears.

You rushed over to her and held her shoulders, "Hey, calm down. Did you tell Mister Nakajima?" you asked.

"I did and he got mad at me! Today is his only free day and he said that if he doesn't meet up with Sir James, the deal is off." Beverly said, stomping her foot on the ground.

You heaved out a sigh, knowing that the deal was very important. Mister Nakajima owned an auto manufacturing company which produces world-class materials for cars. Bucky had been working on convincing Mister Nakajima to be his permanent supplier for quite a while now. Big fucking deal.

You looked back at Sam, "Hey, I'm sorry. Can you give me a couple of minutes?" you asked with an apologetic expression.

"Take your time." Sam nodded with a smile.

You went over to Beverly's desk and took over the phone call, without knowing that Sam trailed behind you. He watched you carefully as you talked to Mister Nakajima, your demeanor calm yet confident.

"Hi, Mister Nakajima. I'm the company's Marketing Head and I would like to apologize for the mix up. Bucky has been working really hard on improving the quality of our products, he's been in meetings in and out. That being said, would it be alright if I take over this afternoon's meeting instead? Bucky worked on an amazing presentation and I honestly would love to go over it with you and just show you how this partnership would be beneficial for both our companies." you asked.

Fortunately, you were able to appease Mister Nakajima while also saving Beverly's ass for her honest mistake. As soon as the call was done, you reassured Beverly that everything was fine now and that you'll take care of Bucky. By the time you looked back at Sam, he was merely smiling at you.

"You're really good with people."

-

Lunch break passed by quickly, with you, Sam and Beverly engaging in all sorts of conversations. Even Beverly felt comfortable being around his presence. He mainly talked about his experiences at his first job, giving Beverly a couple of tips on how to navigate through the corporate world.

Sam was very kind.

The planning resumed after lunch and by the time Mister Nakajima and his associates arrived, the launch plan was pretty much refined with a lot of details. Sam excused himself to give you time to meet with Mister Nakajima, however, he said he'll be staying until Bucky comes back.

Presenting to Mister Nakajima made you nervous as fuck, especially that he didn't really work closely with you which might affect his decision. Luckily though, you knew Bucky's presentation like the back of your hand due to the fact that he had gone over it with you for a couple of times back when the two of you were still, well, fucking around.

Ah, the good old days.

The meeting with Mister Nakajima went perfectly well because as soon as you were done with the presentation, the old man simply asked for the contract to seal the deal. Although it wasn't you who actually worked on the deck, you had a sense of fulfillment. You were proud of yourself and you couldn't wait to dangle it right in front of Bucky's face.

"Thank you so much, Mister Nakajima. We are excited for this partnership." you said happily as you led him and his associates out of the conference room, just as when Bucky arrived.

He looked confused when Mister Nakajima greeted him happily, shaking his hand and telling him how good his presentation was. Bucky looked over at you, as if asking what the hell was going on. You merely shrugged and headed back inside the conference with Sam.

Bucky followed shortly and for some reason, he looked agitated. He was about to speak up when Sam beat him to it, giving him a hard pat on the back.

"The launch event is gonna be really good." he said confidently before glancing at you.

"You're lucky to have her, Bucky." he said before bidding goodbye, giving you one last look and a wink as well, something that Bucky immediately noticed.

When Sam left, so did the light atmosphere inside the conference room. Bucky turned to you with a scowl, his footsteps rushed and heavy as he approached you.

"What the hell happened with Mister Nakajima?" he asked gruffly.

You smiled as you handed him an envelope, "The partnership is a go. He signed the contract and his team will be keeping in contact with us and our factory soon." you explained proudly.

Bucky took the envelope from your hand and went through the contract before placing it back on the table. "I thought my meeting with him isn't until Friday."

"Beverly mixed up your schedule and before you even reprimand her, give the girl a break. It's her first job and with the amount of meetings you've been having, mix-ups are inevitable. What matters now is that I took over the presentation and Mister Nakajima signed the contract." you explained with nonchalance.

Bucky shook his head, "The end does not justify the means." he said. "Beverly should have been careful. My schedule is not a joke and if I miss another important meeting, that can fuck up the entire company."

You rolled your eyes, "Calm down, Beverly surely learned from today's mistake. It's done. The deal is on. Everything is peachy. The launch details have been planned out, Sam is happy with it. All I have to do is to secure your and Mackenzie's approval for it and then we can start with the execution. You're welcome." you said all in one breath, handing Bucky a USB containing the details of the launch.

You brushed past Bucky to leave the conference room but you were immediately pulled back with his hand around your arm. He looked down at you with an angry look on his face, almost fuming. You couldn't understand why the fuck he was so aggravated with you today. Sure, he had been testing your patience lately but it was the first time he actually looked like he was going to snap.

Not at the situation, but at you.

"Are you trying to impress Sam? Taking on my responsibilities while he's around?" he asked, eyes narrowing at you.

You scoffed, unable to believe what Bucky was accusing you of. Pulling your arm back, you took a step back and looked at him with disgust. "You're unbelievable, Bucky." you said.

"Had I not stepped in, we would have lost the deal. You promoted me for a reason, and I believe part of it is my leadership skills. And no, I'm not trying to impress Sam. I'm simply doing my fucking job." you hissed and tried to side step Bucky, only for him to block your way.

"Did he offer you a position in his company? What the fuck was the wink all about?" Bucky accused yet again.

"Oh my god, Bucky! You're blowing things out of proportion. He didn't. We talked about the event. That's it." you explained, pinching the bridge of your nose because Bucky was getting on your very last nerve.

Bucky had been fucking with you too much now and you could feel the last bits of your composure slowly slip away with every word that was coming out of his mouth. Coming for your job was one thing, but accusing you of flirting your way to another company? That was a low blow.

"Don't lie to me, I saw the notification on your phone the other day. Seems to me like Tinder matches don't work for you anymore, you moved on to LinkedIn now to find connections instead?" he asked and that particular statement struck a certain nerve.

You let out a bitter scoff, "Do you even hear yourself, Bucky? At least Sam was being professional and didn't use Tinder to hire a fucking consultant to threaten my damn job!" you slipped, unable to hold back.

The look on Bucky's face was a whirlwind of emotions-- shock, wrath, exhaustion-- and you felt like you were supposed to get scared. Gone were the blue orbs that used to make you feel safe, his eyes only held anger in them. And the thing was, your eyes looked the same as you held Bucky's gaze.

You were so fucking tired of everything, of Bucky.

"How did you-- it doesn't matter." Bucky said, shaking his head. "How much did Sam offer you?" he asked.

Your jaw dropped at the implication of Bucky's statement, "You are a fucking asshole, Bucky. Sam didn't offer me a fucking job. You really don't listen, Bucky. You never listen." you huffed out exasperatedly.

"Okay, maybe he hasn't laid down his offer yet. Perhaps, you let him fuck you too?"

Your vision blacked out upon hearing that and by the time you regained your senses, all you could feel was how your palm stung. You had walked up to Bucky and slapped him right across the face, hard enough to make the corner of his bottom lip bleed. Your entire body was trembling from rage as you stood in front of Bucky.

He tilted his head as he wiped the blood off from his lip, looking up at you with lust-filled eyes. And then his hand gripped your neck, tugging you close for a bruising kiss. You grunted against his mouth and pushed him away, slapping him again. Before Bucky could even recover, your fingers wrapped around his tie pulling him down to you for another kiss.

Walls crumbled down, tension was broken and needs were being fulfilled. The rush of emotions blurred the line between fury and lust with the latter obviously winning. All you could think about was the throb that you suddenly felt within your core begging for relief.

Relief that was denied from you for the past few weeks of playing cat and mouse with Bucky.

And with the way Bucky was kissing you, you knew he felt the same. It had been too long and both your minds were too hazy to even care that it was only five in the afternoon and that there were employees working just outside the conference room.

Was the fear of getting caught going to stop you? No, not now. Because you needed release and you were sure as hell going to get it. This wasn't like the other times you and Bucky fucked. You didn't care about Bucky at the moment, how he felt or what was going on in his mind. You just needed to release all your pent up emotions and you were going to use Bucky to get what you need.

Bucky pushed you against the table, your tailbone hitting the edge with such force that made you groan from pain.

"Yeah, why don't you make some noise so everyone can see how fucking needy you are for me?" Bucky growled, gripping your face with one hand, forcing you to keep your eyes on him as his other hand bunched your skirt up to your waist.

You let out a chuckle, "I'm not the one going to make noise here." you warned before reaching down to palm his erection.

Bucky hissed and bit his lip hard to prevent himself from eliciting a moan. His jaw ticked as he squeezed your face tighter, forcing you to open your mouth as his eyes scanned your features.

"Watch your fucking mouth, baby. I still own you, you're fucking mine." he said through gritted teeth, his eyes lidded as he looked down at you like a predator.

You kept your mouth closed but as soon as Bucky's fingers found your damp panties, you weren't able to stop your whimper. Bucky took the opportunity and spit in your mouth before crashing his lips against yours in a messy kiss. It was all tongue and spit, the way he kissed you as his fingers rubbed at your folds through the thin fabric of your underwear.

He kissed you like he owned you.

"I'm not yours, Bucky." you said as your hands quickly unbuckled his belt, unzipping his trousers and pulling out his hard cock from the confines of his boxers.

The groan that reverberated from Bucky's chest as you stroked him made you smirk. His hand on your face slid down to your neck, holding you tightly as he pushed aside your underwear and then he slid into you with no prior warning. The lack of foreplay made it hurt when he bottomed out, but the pain quickly turned into pleasure when Bucky started moving his hips against yours.

No words were further exchanged from then on. Only soft whimpers and hushed grunts could be heard. However, it was clear that even up until now, there was competition. You didn't want to make noise, didn't want to lose to Bucky. You didn't want to give him the pleasure of knowing how fucking good he was making you feel right now, with how each drag of his cock was making your toes curl inside your heels.

Your hands held onto his broad shoulders as he fucked you against the table, the fabric of his suit bunching up against your fingers. Bucky kept his gaze on you and not once did you falter, not even when the tip of his cock hit your cervix, almost punching the air out of your lungs.

Bucky held the back of your thighs and lifted you up, sitting you on the edge of the table and bending forward so he could angle his cock in a way that you would feel it deep within you. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, one of your hands scratching at his jaw as he continued to pound your sopping cunt.

"God, fucking missed this pussy. Can feel you clamping down on my cock, you gonna cum soon?" he asked, pressing the tip of his nose against yours.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling the wanton moan that Bucky pounded out of you. Not wanting to be the only one to make noise, you clenched around him hard. Bucky let out a growl at how your walls squeezed his cock, his balls tightening as his own orgasm approached.

"Cum for me, Bucky." you whimpered, tipping your head up to lick at Bucky's mouth as your legs tightened around his waist to pull him deeper into you.

Bucky exhaled heavily through his nose, the veins on his neck popping out as he fucked your harder on the table. He kept his hand wrapped around your neck while the other held onto your waist so tight, you could feel his fingers digging deep into your skin. Even with your clothes on, you were sure that you'll be getting bruises from how hard his grip on you was.

"Go on, Bucky. Want your cum inside, want to feel you fill me up again." you moaned against his parted lips, darting your tongue out to taste his mouth.

The needy tone of your voice sent Bucky to the edge first. He uttered a string of curses under his breath as ropes of his cum painted your walls with their warmth with triggered your orgasm. Your body convulsed as waves of pleasure ran through your veins, starting from your fingertips down to your toes. Bucky kissed you and swallowed your moans as his thrusts slowed down.

It took a while for the both of you to recover from the intense fucking. Bucky nuzzled your neck with his nose, his heavy breaths warming up your sweaty skin. There was a short moment of peace that followed, the tension gone and was replaced by a heavy feeling.

You swallowed hard and slowly regained your senses. The release cleared your mind and the memories of the heated exchange from earlier were quick to come back. Bucky's accusations echoed in your ear and they were so clear it almost felt like he was saying them to you again.

Suddenly, you doubted Bucky's intentions when he promoted you. Was he really impressed of your skills at work or was it because you let him fuck you?

"Get off of me." you said, pushing at Bucky's chest until he straightened up.

Ignoring the emptiness you felt when his cock slipped out of you, you hopped down from the table and started fixing yourself. In the many times you had slept with Bucky, it was the first time that you felt disgusted with yourself.

You turned your back to Bucky as you adjusted your underwear, pulling down your skirt and pressing your palms against the fabric to iron out the creases. Your breath was heavy as you processed what had just happened. And just like that, your reserve broke and the strong facade you had built crumbled down into pieces, leaving you vulnerable.

"Hey, are you okay? Did I hurt you?" Bucky suddenly asked when he heard your sniffing, the darkness in his features gone.

His eyes were back to blue and there was nothing but genuine concern when he saw the tears in your eyes. Bucky tried to approach you but you quickly backed away from him, your arms wrapping around yourself as protection.

"Did you hurt me?" you scoffed. "In more ways than one, Bucky." you quickly added, wiping away your tears hastily with the back of your hand.

You were about to walk out of the conference but decided that it was probably time for you to actually speak up about everything. How you felt for him and how much you hated him for coming at you like that.

"I was going to admit that I like you. I thought about it and figured that I was too proud and a bit selfish for not considering your feelings when I rejected you." you explained.

Bucky blinked in confusion, "What? When?"

You shrugged, "The day you brought in Mackenzie. And I was more hurt than mad that you did that. Because you knew how much this job means to me and you had used it against me. You basically took advantage of my weakness, for what? To get me to cave in? Even when I clearly told you how fucking scared I was of the consequences of whatever kind of relationship we have?" you huffed out.

You didn't allow Bucky to speak, not yet. Not until you were done making him understand why you had been so hell-bent on keeping things professional.

"I wasn't born into a rich family like you, Bucky. I had to work my way up to where I am. Unlike you, I have a family to support and if I lose this job, it's not only me who would suffer. And it won't be easy for me to find another one, not after the reputation I'd have once we get busted." you further explained.

"I told you about it so many times and I wish you listened. Because maybe we could've figured shit out. Or I don't know, maybe the fucking was too good and you only wanted me for that." you shrugged.

Bucky quickly shook his head, "No. God no, you're more than that."

You chuckled again, a fresh wave of tears flooding the corners of your eyes. "It most definitely felt like it when you accused me of fucking Sam."

"Fuck, I'm sorry. Let me explain, please? I didn't mean to, I was too--"

"No, Bucky. You didn't listen to me when I told you how I felt about us. Now you're going to know how it feels to not to get what you want." you sternly said before walking over to the door.

You turned back at Bucky and refused to let his expression get to you. He looked devastated, his eyes glassy from the tears he had been holding back, his lips parted as he finally realized what he had done.

"Expect my resignation letter by tomorrow. As soon as we're done with the launch, I'm out."

-

The Match Special Tags:

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Everything Bucky Tag List:

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[1kook]

kissanime & foreplay

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings; mentions of hentai yes u read right, kook leads most of it, cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc; more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 wc; 8.2k

notes; back when kissanime was offed I remember looking at this fic in the drafts like what the hell we gone do now.. n almost deleting it but I was like yknow what this isn’t a 1kook fic unless there’s smthn weird going on so here we are. also yes I know ohshc is on Netflix shut up!!!!! 

HAPPY BDAY MY LOVE AND MUSE JEON JUNGKOOK !!!! 🥺💜

—

The good thing about getting your own apartment is that you finally have a place to call your own. There’s no limit on how many potted plants you can squeeze into a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, and if there was one, you’re twelve in and no one has said anything to you yet. You don’t have to share the shower space with anyone, label all your products with a hastily scribbled name. There’s a bathtub—something you haven’t had the pleasure of using during college—and a fairly open living space. There’s so many empty spots to fill with useless decorations and family heirlooms and that ugly plastic rooster Jungkook won you at the summer kick-off fair last month.

The bad thing about having your own place is that the entire world and their mothers seem to know now. Despite graduating from college, you still keep in touch with your trusted graduate mentor Kim Namjoon, who is still very much in school, and has made it his mission to bring you a new plant every week, hence your growing collection. Your childhood friend comes over every Saturday morning to lounge around after her Friday nights out. Jungkook, although the only one who is ever actually invited, runs through your strawberry scented body wash like a madman.

And of course, Doyeon.

Your beloved college roommate of four years, Kim Doyeon, has been the bane of your apartment experience so far. Unlike you, who had slaved away for four years, saving every penny you made during college for this moment, Doyeon was a big spender. She blew every dollar she ever came across, which is why she’s going to be stuck living at her parent’s house for at least a couple more years.

Nothing wrong with that, of course, if she wasn’t the most maniac online shopper in existence. It hadn’t been a problem in college because she was always good old pals with the students who worked the mailroom. If they saw something questionable, they’d let it slide as long as it was under Miss Kim Doyeon, Room 229.

The reason it became an issue for her now is because it’s poor Mrs. Kim who signs over the package from Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! one Tuesday afternoon as it is delivered to their suburban home.

So now she’s taken to ordering all her freaky stuff to your new apartment, where the small cabinet by the door has quickly become home to her impulsive shopping habits. Truthfully, you don’t mind accepting Doyeon’s weird packages, and have long since grown used to the uncomfortable looks the mail carrier gives you.

Jungkook’s supposed to come over today and you really hope he doesn’t ask about the state of your hall cabinet. Now that you work at a small company outside of your degree to make ends meet, time with Jungkook has been significantly decreased. You weren’t in college anymore, so you didn’t have the luxury of dropping by his house whenever you wanted to in between classes. Of course, it’s mostly your schedule that conflicts with your planned hangouts, because Jungkook is still working his dream job from home.

However, because Jungkook is quite possibly the most amazing person on this planet, he’s started coming over every Saturday night to make sure you’re still alive and not dying. And so weekly media binges are a thing, and it’s currently week four.

He gave up on showing you the Marvel movie franchise last week, after you had asked where Wonder Woman was three times in a row. Since the Barbie Movie Debacle of last month, you’ve found a nice medium between who picks when. Jungkook picks most of the time, because most of the time you don’t really care. It’s become a running joke between the two of you that movie binges are usually just terribly masked excuses to go to town on each other, so you don’t mind missing an entire 15th Century French Revolution documentary if it means Jungkook is deep in your guts by the time King Louis XIV gets beheaded or whatever they did to him. Is it too obvious you didn’t watch the documentary?

Occasionally, there are instances where one of you genuinely does want to watch something, in which case you have an intense match of rock-paper-scissors to decide who’s picking that night. Most of the time, Jungkook wins. But for every match Jungkook wins, he promises you’ll pick the next one so you’ve long since stopped trying to actually beat him.

Long story short, last weekend you sat through a two part Ancient Aliens episode on the connection between aliens and American presidents.

It was the most god-awful conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of, but Jungkook ate up every minute of it. By the time the two hosts announced their conclusion you were just about ready to rip your own ears off and single-handedly fist fight every producer on the channel for allowing the production of such an atrocious show.

Anyway, because you had so bravely sat through the entire evening without complaints— well, no complaints towards Jungkook’s terrible taste; the show, however, was not safe from your wicked tongue —Jungkook has so graciously allowed you to pick the media for this weekend.

You’ve been telling him for the longest time that you were going to hook him on anime. It was one of the few interests you always believed Jungkook should possess, being a weeb and all, because it was only fair that he had one questionable trait to balance out the rest of his perfection. Liking anime isn’t bad— if a hottie like you enjoyed it, then it obviously had its perks. However, you know a lot of other people are turned off by anime-enthusiasts due to preconceived notions of the genre and the viewer-base.

Now, it was a widely known fact that you always had ulterior motives. So maybe turning Jungkook into a weeb was just a ploy to turn other women off from him and keep your jealousy at bay. Sue you, your boyfriend was a walking wet dream, and you’d do anything to keep him to yourself.

After long deliberation, you’ve decided on introducing Jungkook to anime with a classic: Ouran High School Host Club, a god among anime, a true Beyonce among shoujos. The only problem was that you absolutely refused to pay Crunchyroll or Funimation when you could so easily find the entire show on KissAnime.com, home to only the finest of hentai ads and Are You a Robot? questions.

He sends you a text when he’s outside your building, and five minutes later there’s a rap against your door.

“Hi,” you smile up at him, heart fluttering in that same trademark way it did whenever Jungkook was within a five foot radius. He smiles back softly, leaning down to peck your lips as you step aside for him to enter. He’s got on those cotton sweats that you love, the ones that send your brain into a censored frenzy. But he’s also got that soft curl to his hair that lets you know he came here straight out of the shower in his hurry to see you. How you managed to bag a dream boyfriend like him was beyond you.

You bask in the overwhelming feeling of unannounced love for all of ten seconds before Jungkook is lifting up a square package you hadn’t seen at his hip. “Mailman gave me this,” he says, waving around the signature bright pink packaging of Sexuality Unleashed. Jungkook, for all his politeness and respect, seemed to falter in those categories when it came to you. He turns the box over, reading the big fat name of the company on the side. “Since when did you start buying sex toys?” he asks rather loudly in the hallway.

You yank him inside, hurriedly slamming the door shut before any of your neighbors can come out into the hallway and get a peek of this avid sex toy consumer. “They’re not mine!” you hiss, standing still when he uses you to balance himself as he tugs off his shoes. You snatch the box out of his hands, turning it around to make sure it is actually addressed to your home. Sure enough, it’s for you. Couldn’t there have been some other sex toy fanatic on this floor?

With his shoes off, Jungkook wastes no time enveloping you in a hug, the Sexuality Unleashed box tumbling to the ground. “It’s okay, baby, no need to be embarrassed.”

You groan, leaning your forehead against his shoulder as he continues to pat your back like you’re actually embarrassed to be caught buying toys— you’re not. You’re embarrassed he caught you with a sex toy you simply can’t put to use. “Whatever,” you sigh, “your gross popcorn is in my bedroom and it’s probably stale.”

He releases you, not before pulling you into a slow and languid kiss that has you clutching tightly at the front of his shirt. He pulls away with a soft smooch, right eye falling into a wink. “Bring the box, gorgeous,” he teases, before sauntering off in the direction of your bedroom.

You groan loudly. “It’s not mine!” you repeat, but for some reason do as he says.

Not only do you have no idea what’s in this package, but you’re frankly not too keen on finding out. You’re more interested in Jungkook’s reaction to one of your favorite animes of all time. The package is tossed onto the end of the bed, where Jungkook has already stripped himself of his socks and cuddled beneath your covers.

Your laptop has gone dark from inactivity so you slam down on the space bar to bring it back to life. Your first mistake was pressing anything at all. It flickers back on alright, but you forget that you are working with a minefield of ads ready to explode. You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans.

“What the hell is this?” he asks in a tone that screams he has never had to fight viruses off his computer just to watch something at two in the morning.

You ignore him, cuddling into his side as you hurriedly type in the title of the anime before another annoying ad can intercept you. “KissAnime,” you answer for now, accidentally clicking down on the mousepad with the heel of your palm. Another tab opens up to some sketchy credit site. You huff.

“Baby, I swear I just saw like twelve viruses,” he says. “And what even are these?” he scoffs, jabbing a finger at one of the many ads that lines the perimeter of the website. “Animated teacher porn?”

By the grace of god, you somehow manage to get onto the episode selection screen without having another tab open on you. You smile in relief, turning the power of your excitement onto Jungkook… only to find his eyes narrowed in on the square advertisement for some hentai website. “What? You wanna watch hentai now?” you snort, placing the laptop on his legs as you cuddle into his side.

Jungkook sputters, cheeks tinting red at the mere insinuation he would ever consume such media. “No,” he glares, releasing the arm around your shoulders to huffily cross them over his chest. “I am not going to watch anatomically incorrect illustrations of a woman teacher relieving herself, ___,” he says rather matter-of-factly.

You snort, repeating, “a woman teacher,” mockingly and in a high pitched voice that, honestly, doesn't sound anything like him. You click play on the video box that appears after only about twenty more pop-up ads. “Silence, you nymphomaniac, the episode is starting.” Jungkook pulls you close with a displeased expression, finally quieting down when you put it on full screen and the ads disappear from his view.

You’re beginning to wonder if Jungkook really is the script and plot dissector he claims to be, or if he just lives to get under your skin. He doesn’t make it three minutes without finding something to critique. First it’s the quality of the frames, and then it’s the characterization of the lead character. He nitpicks everything about the best anime in existence, and by the end of the first episode you’re considering breaking up with him.

“Oh my god,” you groan, tearing yourself away from him. He’s all laid up against your mountain of pillows, tongue prodding at the insides of his mouth in that ridiculously attractive habit of his. Usually, you’d be tripping over yourself to kiss him, but you’re about two seconds from ripping his head off. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, baby,” you sigh, picking up his hand in yours. “You gotta shut up.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I have to shut up?” he asks in a scandalized tone. “You sang through the entire intro, off tune may I add.”

At this rate you’re getting nowhere, so you just snatch the laptop back up before you actually hurt his feelings. You escape the full screen, met with those hentai ads that are slowly becoming the bane of Jungkook’s existence.

“Who actually watches those anyway?” he mumbles, covering the sidebar full of naked cartoon ladies with his palm for you, a real gentleman if you ever saw one. “Really?” he says, knocking his pointer finger against a particularly raunchy ad with the caption Be a Good Boy and Let her Play beneath it.

You snort. “You are such a baby,” you tease, pinching his cheek much to his annoyance. “What? Can’t handle seeing some anime titties?”

Jungkook shoves your hand away, leaning back to become one with the pillows as you continue onto the next episode. “They’re just weird,” he admits. “And make unrealistic faces.”

“Unrealistic,” you repeat, finally giving one of the ads the time of day. There’s an adorably drawn character making the most perverted expression, knees hiked up to her chest. Her face is twisted up, drooling like a dog and with her eyes crossed in ecstasy. You shrug. “Just because you can’t get those faces out of me doesn’t mean they’re unreal.”

The second the words leave your mouth Jungkook is letting out a scandalized scoff, sitting up to level you with another glare. “First of all, I can get you like that,” he defends, tapping his finger against the ad on screen. “In fact, I can get you like that without even trying, so let’s not say anything too drastic now, okay?”

His sudden bout of defensiveness makes something playful in you switch on, laying back down beside him with a smirk. “Oh, you can make me all stupid like this?”

Jungkook scoffs. “Yes.”

“Uh huh,” you drawl, tracing a finger up his chest teasingly; Jungkook knocks your knuckles away, obviously still butt hurt about your comment. That’s fine, because a slightly riled up Jungkook was always the best Jungkook. You sit up and lean in close, letting your hand slip beneath his hoodie, palm running over his bare shoulder and around the top of his back. You give his nape a light squeeze, lips pressed against the shell of his ear. “Why don’t you prove it to me, Jungkookie?” you purr, before pulling away.

His jaw twitches at the nickname, one shapely brow unconsciously arching as he regards you with a calculative expression.

The thing about Jungkook was that, after almost a year of dating, you know just how to push his buttons. He has a rather calm and collected exterior to him, the same one he’s had since the day you met him, but beneath it all was a childish competitiveness that raged with the heat of ten suns. He disliked being taunted like you were doing now, especially when his credibility was at stake.

Honestly speaking, you don’t doubt Jungkook can make you look as goofy and messy as those hentai ads. In fact you’re rather confident he can. Either way, him being right or you being right, you would still get some fun out of it.

“Hm?” you add, tracing your hand up to dance over the skin of his cheek, pads of your fingers running over that stiff jaw. “Are you scared I’m right and you’re wrong?”

A hand snaps up to catch your wrist, fingers tight around your skin until you’re shivering against him. “Oh baby, I can make you cum until you cry,” he murmurs, his usual sweet and lilting tone dropping to a low vibration that makes your pussy throb beneath your panties. Your heart leaps in your chest, lips falling open when he ducks down to brush them against yours. It’s too light, just a simple touch that makes you follow his mouth when he pulls back.

With one firm shove, the laptop is tumbling off the bed, thudding loudly against your bedside rug. Jungkook leans over you, his usual trademark doe eyes zeroed in on you with the focus of a laser. “Have a little faith in me,” he teases, and when he presses close you can feel his fattening cock flush against your thigh. Your body is begging to be touched, every brush of his fingers against your skin searing trails in their wake.

Suddenly, he’s drawing back. “Kook?” you frown, barely biting down on a childish whimper when he snuggles back into your mountain of pillows, one arm stretched behind his head.

He flashes you a smile. “Go on,” he says, arms behind his head. “Show me how to get you like that.”

“By myself?” you ask, shifting onto your knees anyway. Jungkook nods, a soft jut of his chin as he gives you another one of those easy going smiles of his. His goal seems a little unclear, but you had a ridiculous amount of trust in your boyfriend that whatever he had planned was certain to be good. With one final skeptical glance his way, you sink down onto your bum, knees spreading and giving him a clear view of your little pink boy shorts, elastic band hugging your waist.

The material of your t-shirt is guided away, held to your chest by the hand currently not traversing the length of your stomach, gliding across soft skin, over your belly button and past that band until it slips beneath. You chance another look Jungkook’s way, only to find his eyes wonderfully downcast in the direction of your core. That smile is gone now, replaced with a somber look as he watches your hand move mysteriously beneath the fabric of your undergarments.

The first brush of your forefinger against your swollen button makes you twitch, back arching at the sensation that is magnified by his watchful gaze. “Mmh,” you bite down, hand twisting in the material of your shirt. Jungkook’s eyes glare a molten path across your skin, from the comfy bra that peeks out from beneath your rumpled shirt to the wrist slowly working beneath your panties.

A hand falls over your thigh, tattooed fingers giving the skin a light squeeze as you get to work swirling your bud around. The sight of his inked skin on yours makes something warm blossom in your lower abdomen, your eyes following the inky swirls up, up, up. They lead you to the face of your very handsome boyfriend, long lashes fanning across his cheekbones as he watches you play with yourself. “Wanna take these off for me?” he says, the tip of his pointer finger wiggling beneath the fabric of your shorts.

You nod hurriedly, wiggling around on the bed until you’re on your back, legs bent in front of you. The shorts come down your legs; the simplest press of your thighs makes something quiver in your abdomen. You toss them off to the side, and just as you go to sit back up, Jungkook places a hand on your knee. “Stay like this for me,” he says, sitting up from his mountain of pillows to glance down at you. You melt into the plush mattress beneath you, staring down at him between your legs. He’s got that adoring look in his eyes, the one that makes you feel so warm and in love, it’s only natural your hand slips down to play with your bare clit again. “That’s my girl,” he smiles, rubbing a hand down the outside of your thigh, urging your legs to fall open.

There’s this overflowing vat of arousal that builds up inside of you everytime Jungkook is around, like the moment your eyes land on him you’re reminded of every position he’s ever had you in. You remember the soft brush of his hands on your body, the way his lips feel on yours, the soft tickle of his hair when he gets too close. It makes your heart lurch in your chest, like if you don’t grab onto him tightly this feeling will slip through your fingers and out of your life. So you were crazily in love with your boyfriend— now what?

A puckered set of lips meets the inside of your thigh, the action ripping you from your overly gooey, overly soft inner rambling. Your hand trails down your quivering pussy lips, collecting your dripping wetness as you go. At the same time, Jungkook kisses down the inside of your thigh, soft smacks of his lips against your skin filling the air with an emotion that makes you bite down a whimper. Your hole puckers at the brush of your fingers, anticipating an entrance that you yearn to give into soon.

His mouth is on you before your finger can go deeper than a centimeter in. But Jungkook doesn’t brush your hand off, doesn’t shove you away to prove his mouth was undoubtedly better. He places a kiss over your knuckles, before swallowing up your significantly smaller hand with his, that of which he clasps together over your navel.

You groan, head rolling from side to side. “Don’t be so soft with me,” you whine, leg twitching when he presses a kiss against your engorged bundle of nerves. “Push me around like that one time, you know I like it.”

Jungkook grins, mouthing over your clit with practiced ease that has you releasing all kinds of whimpers and sighs. He’s got his other hand wrapped around your thigh, strong arm pulling you closer to that devious mouth and tongue that lavished attention on your clit. “Need me to be mean to you, baby?” he purrs, curling his tongue in such a way that it makes your entire body tense up, muscles pulled tight. “Want me to push you around like the stupid little girl you are?” You moan, head bobbing up and down at the ideas he stuffs in your mind. As he moves down the length of your cunt, that round nose you love brushes against your bud, and the cheeky shit takes an obnoxiously loud sniff of it, a soft groan breathed against your lower lips. “But isn’t this better?” he hums, languidly molding his lips against your lower ones, much in the same way he does with the ones on your face; he moves slowly, slips his tongue in every few seconds before eventually diving in head on. “Slow... and so easy.”

“Kook,” you mewl, getting this overwhelming urge to cover your face with your hands. But you can’t, because he’s knotted one hand with yours and his fingers only tighten when you try to yank them apart. Instead you’re left pressing one knuckle against your mouth, brows pinching as he begins slowly fucking his tongue into your cunt. “F-Faster,” you beg. He, of course, ignores your plea.

The wet mass moves past the clenched muscles around your hole, nose brushing against your lips with every intrusion. Every few cycles he stops to press a kiss against your pussy, so hard and wet that it hurts when he pulls off. You’re left writhing and moaning, your heel knocking against his shoulder when he pushes your leg up closer to your chest. “It’s enough,” you cry, your entire body shivering.

Jungkook pulls off with a loud pop, lips glistening with your arousal. He’s got this glint on his eyes, like he’s thoroughly entertained by your reactions. He shuffles around to get comfortable, finally releasing that grip on your hand. Immediately, your newly freed hand jumps forward to tangle in the hair above his ear, tracing down the delicate curve of his cheekbone. Jungkook turns his head, pressing a soft peck against your open palm that makes your heartbeat thunder in your ears.

As he moves around, his leg bumps against something that has both of you pausing. It sounds out of place next to your shallow breaths, and both of you glance down only to catch sight of that stupid package from Sexuality Unleashed teetering on the edge of the bed.

The moment you see it, it’s like you’re transported into an omnipresent view of the scene, the next few hours flashing before your eyes as Jungkook snorts. You know he’s going to reach for it in two seconds, and you know he’s going to tear the hot pink packaging apart with his bare hands. He does so with a scary amount of power, the industrial tape not standing a chance against him. A box roughly the same size as the package falls out, and before you can kick it away and save yourself from suffering beneath Jungkook’s teasing antics, he’s snatching up the box.

“The Bullet Bestie,” he reads aloud, dark eyes flying across the text with lightning speed before that box is also being ripped open. (Briefly, there’s a voice in your head that thinks of Doyeon, but you’re not sure why.) Out tumbles a little pink bullet with a strap on one end that bounces against your thigh and an even smaller remote.

“Baby,” you rush out, the sight of the tiny toy making your heart thunder in your chest. “We can look at it another time,” you try, hands coming up to brush against his face again. “Why don’t you finish off here?” you ask, a sickeningly sweet politeness dripping off your tongue as the knot in your tummy fades into the background of his attention.

Jungkook ignores you, picking up the remote with a wondrous look in his eyes. Before you can try to persuade him back between your legs, a quiet click cuts you off and the little bullet whirls to life. You yelp at the sudden vibrations against the inside of your thigh, so close to your throbbing core. The jump of your thighs has it falling onto the mattress below you, wide eyes snapping back to the smirk that grows on his face.

“No,” you say slowly, sitting back up, “no, no,” you try, your usual assertiveness melting into a whiny cry as you try to wiggle away from him and the nefarious ideas infesting his lust-addled mind. You’re barely turning, ready to make a run for it and hand him his victory by forfeit, when Jungkook is catching you by the waist. Your hips get pulled up, arms clawing uselessly at the sheets beneath you as he drags you close to him. He’s fast, already having moved onto his knees behind you, and when he yanks you up, you can feel every hot plane of his body aligned with your backside. “Kook, please just make me cum,” you gasp.

There’s a smile pressed against your shoulder, lips still wet from before, kissing along the side of your neck. “Look at my girl,” he murmurs, and you nearly jump out of your skin when something smooth is traced along your thigh. One hand slips beneath the material of your shirt, soothingly rubbing circled against your skin. This hand also holds the tiny remote between two fingers, and every nerve in your body is on edge waiting for it to be used. “Where’s that smartmouth now?”

“Jungkook,” you try to warn. But there’s no bite to your words, only an anticipation that grows the closer he moves that damned toy between your thighs. “Baby, we-we can play another time, okay? Just please—“

A soft click, and suddenly your spine is giving out on you, upper body flopping forward as Jungkook runs the vibrations over your clit. Of course Jungkook follows, never letting you slip far from his reach. A loud moan spills from your lips, lower lip wobbling at the unreal amounts of pleasure he bestows upon you with such a small toy. “W-Wait,” you sob, the coil from before suddenly magnified tenfold. It makes your orgasm loom over you bigger than ever, a wave that threatens to spill over and drown you in one go. “No-please.”

His mouth presses against your ear, hot breaths fanning against the skin there. “Hey pretty girl, does it feel good?” he husks out, kissing just below your ear. “Aw fuck,” he groans, something stiff pressing against the cleft between your cheeks, “can’t even see if you’re making that stupid face right now.”

You are, but you don’t even have the words to tell him that. The moment the vibrator had made contact with your already ravished clit, your eyes had rolled into the back of your head. You don’t doubt you look like those silly ads you’d laughed at earlier, mouth opening and closing every few seconds as he circles the toy around your bud. You settle on a high-pitched whimper that has Jungkook laughing meanly against your ear.

It ends too soon, the stimulation from Jungkook eating you out for a few minutes combining with the bullet to form a powerful duo that swallows you whole. An embarrassingly loud moan rips itself from your throat, hands twisting in the sheets beneath you as it washes over you. It’s so powerful, it blinds you, pussy spasming. Jungkook’s name is repeated about a thousand times in between, your body eventually melting back into the mattress as the final shocks run through you.

The vibrator clicks off just as quietly as it turned on, your harsh breaths filling the room in its place. “Good girl,” Jungkook praises, raining down a parade of kisses against your shoulder. You mewl in appreciation, still awkwardly shoving your face into the mattress, and your hips in the air. From the corner of your eyes, you watch him set the glistening toy off to the side, and you’re just about ready to thank the heavens for such an experience with your boyfriend, when said boyfriend hits you with a curveball.

The gentle pecks against yours shoulder dissolve into harsh kisses, rough hands trailing up your waist. The t-shirt gathers around his knuckles, pushed and pushed until he’s got those same hands cupping your breasts. “Did you like that?” he asks, biting down against your shoulder; the sensation is dulled by your shirt being in the way but it still makes you whine. You moan softly, nodding against the mattress as he gets to kneading your breasts over your bra. “Mm,” Jungkook sighs, “my pretty girl was so good for me, wasn’t she?”

Those deft fingers run back down, crawl beneath the elastic of your lounge bra and push it away until your breasts are bouncing out of their cage. “Kook,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut as he traces circles around your nipples. “W-Wait,” you whimper, suddenly reminded of the swollen cock pressed against your backside when he leans closer.

“Shhh,” he soothes, tweaking your nipples. “Relax for me, sweetheart,” he coos, flicking your hardened nipples with his fingers. You can’t relax, not with your body still so sensitive and him playing with you. Still, the low intonation makes something soft and warm settle in your chest, the kisses against your jaw making your eyes fall shut. “That’s it,” he says, giving one nipple a playful twist that draws a high-pitched moan from you.

Just as you’re beginning to fall into the rhythm of Jungkook’s caresses and voice, he releases one breast to traverse his hand down and over your tummy, to your sensitive pussy. You gasp, biting down on your lip as he teasingly flicks your clit with his fingers. “Bet you could come again now,” he murmurs, taking the tip of your earlobe into his mouth and nibbling softly. You groan, shoving your face into the sheets as if that will save you from your doom. “Bet your pretty little pussy can cream itself just like this, isn’t that right, sweet girl?”

You whimper, hips bucking back against him when he begins nudging your bud, lewd sounds reaching your ears. His other hand remains on your breast, no longer toying with your nipple but simply holding it almost comfortingly. There’s a smirk pressed against your skin, that pearly white smile you usually adore so much teasing you as he circles your nub.

“Come on,” he encourages quietly, kissing up the column of your neck again. You moan, thighs quivering as he strokes a second orgasm out of you with no struggle. Your eyes and throat burn at the heat that washes over you, and you release a hoarse scream into the mattress— Jungkook chuckles at the sound, egging you on with that low voice until your muscles go limp a second time.

When he rolls you onto your stomach again, you try desperately to cover the tears that blur your vision, turning away from him like a child when he tries to look. “Crybaby, crybaby,” he sings teasingly, prying your hands away to capture your mouth with his for the first time that night. “Lemme see those tears, baby,” he purrs.

He tastes like you, tongue dripping with that sweet tang of your pussy, and he smells like you too. It strokes the flames of you ego, arms eventually wrapping around his shoulders as he settles above you. He pulls off with a curl of his tongue against your swollen lips, brown eyes lazily staring down at you. It’s embarrassing how well kept he still was compared to your half-nude state of dress. His skin is all glowy and pretty, not a single tear track in sight, and his grin is still too relaxed for your liking.

Jungkook’s body feels so warm and comforting against yours, muscles keeping the heat trapped between your bodies. You go to brush a hand through his hair, needing to feel the familiarity of those silky locks, before he’s suddenly leaning away. He shuffles onto his knees again, glancing down at your thoroughly abused cunt with a quirk in his brows.

“God,” you groan, knocking your foot against his side. “Just fuck me already,” you huff despite your earlier fatigue. You could only go so long without feeling Jungkook’s fat demon cock inside of you.

He snorts at your snappy tone, cutely tilting his head to the side to move his hair out of his face. His jaw looks sharp from this angle, facial features covered in shadows the lamplight behind him can’t touch. “Can’t,” he announces, and you could pull your hair out from all this unnecessary build up.

Truth to be told, you and Jungkook were both equally as unrestrained when it came to each other. Most of the time, the lead up to actual, penetrative, key-in-lock sex included a couple minutes of heavy petting from his end, and maybe a half assed handjob from you. Sometimes if you felt extra attentive, he’d eat you out and you'd him off. But for the most part, the two of you jumped straight into it after an orgasm, like horny teenagers despite the two of you being twenty-three now.

The most adventurous you’d ever gotten up until the point was maybe two orgasms bestowed upon you by a crazed Jungkook. And, well. You had hit two orgasms now. You were ready for his monster cock.

“Kook,” you whine childishly.

Jungkook shakes you off, placing a palm on both your knees. Slowly, he spreads your thighs apart again, eyes zeroed in on the glossy folds that come into view, the sparkling pearly cum that leaks out of your hole. “I can’t, baby,” he says, almost pained. “I gotta clean you up first,” he insists, and before you can tell him how counterproductive it is to lick you clean of your arousal before fucking you, he’s diving face first into your cunt.

But the biggest surprise doesn’t come from Jungkook going in for thirds, but from the hands he clasps around your thighs, the sheer strength he uses to roll you over (ignoring the shriek you let out) to sit you on his face. “No, no,” you yelp immediately, “I-I‘ll break you,” you cry, trying to escape from his hold.

From beneath your thighs, dark eyes peering up at you daringly, you can see the clear warning on Jungkook’s face. It’s a look that loudly says don’t you dare fucking move, shapely brows sending a jolt of genuine fear down your spine for a moment. “Jungkook,” you fret, trying to ignore the arousal that only continues to blossom as his tongue laps against your folds for the second time that night. “I’m, I’m,” you stammer, hands burying themselves in his hair as he ignores your cries. “I’ll break you,” you try again, spine arching when he slurps your clit into his mouth. “I-I’ll—“

He pulls off with a pop. “Fuck my face, baby,” he says, as if he hadn’t heard a single of your concerns at all. His nose nudges against your clit, a whimper catching in your throat. Briefly, his hand disappears from around your thigh, and when it returns, that tiny bullet vibrator from earlier is pressed against your thigh. “You got that?”

You nod, internally torn apart by your fear of crushing him and your need to drag your cunt all over your boyfriend’s handsome face. You glance down at him, watch him slip that vibrator into his mouth for just a second and lewdly coat it in his saliva, before he’s reaching around to shove it past your pussy lips. They’re still swollen and puffy, but have long since relaxed enough for him to slip it in. “B-But what if—“

“You won’t,” he cuts off, readjusting himself closer to your cunt again, “come on, pretty girl.”

The reason you think you and Jungkook click so well was because he was able to bring that vulnerable side out of you every now and then. He knew you liked to parade around with that huge superiority complex, and he loved it. But he also knew there were things you liked and disliked, and sometimes it took a little pushing for you to reveal them.

For a second, that horny cloud over his irises lifts, and he gives you one of those cute, sloppy winks as he taps your thigh gently. “Fuck my face, sweetheart,” he whispers, “drag that pretty cunt all over me until I can’t breathe.” A gasp catches in your throat, hands unconsciously curling against his scalp. He notices, and flashes you a lazy smirk. “You can do that, can’t you?”

Something akin to adoration blooms in your chest, and before you can blurt out something embarrassing—like I love you—there’s a soft click that has The Bullet Bestie revving up inside of you. You gasp, the sudden vibrations deep inside your pussy making your hips snap forward, clit rubbing against Jungkook’s nose.

“O-Oh,” you cry, and that’s all it takes for you to lose it. Your hips start off slow, at first just savoring the wet drag of his tongue against your lips, his nose against your clit. He sticks his tongue out for you, and part of you wants to tell him he’s a good boy, that corny hentai ad flashing in your mind, but you doubt you’ll survive the aftermath of that. Once you find that perfect pace, your hands are practically yanking at his hair, pushing him further into the mattress as you ride his face like he’s nothing but a toy. “Kook, Jungkook,” you pant, grinding your lower lips against his all too eager mouth.

It feels oddly weird being over him like this, using him like this. You like to think you and Jungkook have equal power in the bedroom, but you will admit that more often than not, he assumes control by default. You’re not particularly bothered by that, because you doubt you’d ever come up with the crazy ideas Jungkook did when he was horny (okay, a lie, because you definitely have thought of crazy sex schemes before).

But, this moment…

The power was quickly going to your head. “Fuck,” you sob, roughly dragging the length of your pussy over and over his face. The hands around your thighs are pressing against your skin with a strength that would hurt were you not blinded by arousal. His eyes are shut, lids fluttering open every now and then as he watches you buck wildly over his face like he was a pillow in high school and your parents were gone for the weekend.

It doesn’t help that the rhythmic pulses of the vibrator inside of you are doing their job well, the tongue that slips into your pussy joining together to form a powerful combination. It’s ultimately what has you halting your manic thrusts, instead falling into a slow grind over him. Your hips circle, eyes squeezed shut as you lose yourself in the lapping of his tongue against your dripping hole. “Mmmf,” you mewl, biting down on your lower lip as the wet muscle prods against a delicate spot within you. You hear feels light, view of the gorgeous man beneath you obstructed by the eyelids that can't seem to stay open. “N-No,” you cry, pulling his hair more roughly than you intended to in order to redirect him. “There, there,” you whimper, holding him tight against your pussy.

Beneath you, Jungkook exhales harshly against your lips, hands moving frantically over your thighs as he works his tongue inside of you alongside the bullet vibrator. If you weren’t so caught up in your own pleasure, all kinds of sounds spilling from your lips, you would have heard the quiet moans that fall from his. Alas.

It takes a few more pulses from the toy and a few more licks from Jungkook until you’re coming for the third time that night, features twisting up as your pussy clenches around his tongue before spilling down his mouth. Your back arches, a defeated moan escaping you as you release the same mess he’d claimed to clean up onto his lovely face. You can barely breathe afterwards, mouth dry and head dizzy when Jungkook finally pops back out from between your thighs. You barely have enough time to lift yourself up, pussy lightly brushing across his Adam’s apple as you stop yourself from crushing his windpipe. It makes you twitch.

“Good girl,” Jungkook praises with a cheeky smile that distracts you from the bullet toy he retrieves from your quivering cunt. His face is absolutely glistening from your arousal, skin warm and flush. He’s looking up at you like you’re some mythical goddess and he’s but a humble villager coming to pay his respects at the temple that is your body. Fuck, were you okay? You don’t think you’ve ever felt this good in your entire life, and Jungkook’s mushy gaze was doing things to your heart.

He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh before helping you off of him, laughing meanly when you flop limply down beside him. He’s still fully clothed, a fact that irks you when he leans over to kiss you with that glossy face of his. “D’you like it?” he mumbles, kissing softly down your face. You nod, legs twitching from the aftermath of that wild ride. “I saw it, y’know,” he says suddenly.

“Saw what?” you mumble, mindlessly rolling your head to the side and exposing more skin when he begins kissing along your neck.

Jungkook says nothing, just rolls over you. Part of you thinks he’s crazy, but you’re suddenly hit with the realization that while Jungkook’s drawn three orgasms out of you in the course of an hour, you hadn’t done anything for him. Before you can dive head first into swallowing his cock, he’s kissing you softly. “That stupid face,” he smirks, slotting his mouth against yours. “That weird, now realistic face,” he tacks on.

You huff out a laugh, throwing your leg around his waist comfortably. Jungkook smiles, kisses you one last time before settling in your arms, face cutely pressed in between your boobs. “Hey,” you call, “don't you wanna cum too?”

He shakes his head, a soft sigh filling the air. “Nah,” he says, cuddles closer into you. “Rest now, baby.”

You roll your eyes. “I can feel your dick against my thigh,” you point out, wiggling your pelvis upward to brush against his throbbing erection. Jungkook holds you down in an effort to stop you. “Fuck me.”

He groans against your collarbone. “No, you’re tired,” he tries to convince you, but his skin is warm and flushed in the way it always gets when he’s riled up. “Sleep.”

With the leg around his hip, you pull him closer. “Fuck me, Jungkookie,” you purr, using the hands in his hair to turn his face up towards yours. His dark eyes are drawn down cutely, pouty lips too. “Use my body,” you suggest, “I’m yours anyway.”

His eyes flutter shut, a quiet whimper falling from his lips. “Don’t say that,” he sighs, “makes me wanna do very mean things to you.”

You smile. “You can do whatever you want to me, don’t you know that?” Another groan, his head falling forward until he’s hiding in your neck. Still, there’s movement from below, he sweats slipping down at his hips until that throbbing cock is pressed into the tiny crease where your thigh meets your pelvis. There’s a moment of hesitation, and you wonder if this is what he felt like earlier when he’d managed to get you to sit on his face. “Inside, Jungkookie,” you murmur, reaching down to line him up with your sensitive entrance. He whines softly, arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close. “Good boy.”

Despite your earlier belief that you’d never survive an encounter with Jungkook after using such a term on him, the result is much different from what you had anticipated. He visibly melts into your arms, cock slipping past your folds easily. “No,” he says, his voice feathery and whiny against your ear. “I can’t.”

You soothe a hand down his back, eyes fluttering shut as he begins slowly rutting against your swollen lips. “That’s it,” you encourage, tugging softly at his wavy hair. Jungkook moans wantonly against your neck, rolling his hips harshly against you until his arms are the only things keeping you from jostling out of his hold. “Do you like this pussy?” you ask, purposefully clenching around him, tummy tightening at the stimulation you keep packing on.

Jungkook shudders, pace growing slipping inside of you. “Yes,” he pants, “s-so wet… creamy.”

“Yeah?” you huff, pressing a smiley kiss against his forehead. “It’s yours.”

“Ffffuck,” Jungkook chokes, picking up his pace as his well-deserved orgasm reaches its peak. He’s breathing harshly now, and it’s taking everything in you to keep your pussy tight around him. But after the night he’d given you, the sounds and faces he pulled from you, it’s the least you can do. Besides, your body, after being so thoroughly pleased, still rears up for one final orgasm with him. “Mine,” he growls, bucking his hips into you. “You’re mine, baby, mine,” he seethes, ending his little tryst with a piston of his hips that makes you gasp, body almost unconsciously spasming around him. It’s painful, but so, so delicious how he manages to pull this last orgasm from you as he finally busts inside of you.

He comes with a stuttering garble of words, none of which you catch as he collapses into your hold for the final time that night. “Fuck,” he pants afterwards, leaning into your touch when he finally registers the soft combing of fingers through his hair. “That was evil.”

You laugh, pulling him closer. “As evil as you making me suffer through three orgasms before putting your dick in me?” you tease. Jungkook slips out of you, and you know it’ll be a hassle to clean your sheets tomorrow but it’s worth it.

“It’s called building the scene,” he weakly defends, blindly tugging the puffy blanket over the two of you. “I was gonna rhyme it with that horrible website you made me use but I already forgot it’s name.”

“Rude,” you snap, “it’s called KissAnime.”

“And fore-play,” he suddenly says, and you almost yank his eyeballs out of their sockets for doing that stupid thing again.

—

epilogue 

Two weeks later, your favorite website and home to hentai ads is shut down after years of piracy. Jungkook laughs at your demise, sits and actually cackles at your heartbreak, until he eventually comforts you with his flaming demon cock and a subscription to both Crunchyroll and Funimation. Doyeon spends weeks tracking down a missing package, apparently some freebie she’d gotten for being such an avid customer on Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! before eventually finding it in your drawer. And because her and Jungkook have some awkward life-long rivalry for your attention, he doesn’t pay for that. 

—

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[shadowed-dancer]

How the anime enhanced the Touya mystery

Season 5 of MHA just finished adapting the Endeavour Agency Arc. While everyone has their own opinion on how the anime adaptation is doing, I wanted to take a moment to praise something that (I think) they handled really well: The Touya Mystery. Today we’re going to walk through how the anime handled this plot point, and why it worked so well.

Proud to say this post is free of manga spoilers! Today we’re ONLY talking about the anime.

Intro: What is the Touya Mystery?

The Touya mystery is the ongoing mystery of what happened to the third Todoroki son. It is foreshadowed in seasons 2 and 4, but it exists in earnest throughout season 5. It is never explicitly stated, but is instead referenced in passing by the characters, allowing the audience to try and piece everything together until it is eventually confirmed.

Disclaimer

Obviously the manga has this mystery as well, but anime as a medium has certain factors that the manga simply doesn’t have. OPs and EDs are a good example, but there’s also the way hiatuses affect the way we consume the story, as well as how the breakdown of seasons clump certain storylines closer together then they were in the manga (compare 6 months to get through Joint Training in the manga, compared to 2.5 months for the anime).

I am also aware of the theories surrounding Touya’s potential connection to a previously established character. You’ve probably seen the theory at some point, but I won’t name names just incase some of you haven’t. Either way, this post isn’t about that theory.

Finally, I’m very well aware that most viewers may not have picked up on some of the stuff I’m saying. A lot of these points are minor details, and I don’t fault anyone for missing out on that. In fact, I’m sure there are some fans out there who never even realized there was a 4th Todoroki sibling because they just... didn’t care or pay attention. I’m going at this with the mindset of someone who is very, VERY analytical, not your average viewer who’s just here to enjoy the show.

The Set Up: Season 2

We are first introduced to the Todoroki siblings way back in Season 2, Episode 10 (Todoroki’s fight with Deku in the Sports Festival). During Shoto’s flashback, we are given this frame to introduce his siblings...

We have the white-haired brother, the red-haired brother, and the sister. In this scene, the red-haired brother fumbles his soccer move and ends up falling, causing his siblings to laugh. This added movement (which was never in the manga) causes the red-haired brother to stand out slightly more than his siblings.

Now, granted, I’ve seen quite a few people who didn’t realize these were Shoto’s siblings at first. They just thought he was watching his neighbours. That’s why, if their hair colours weren’t enough to clue you in on their relationship to Shoto, we meet the sister a few episodes later (Season 2, Episode 12).

She refers to Endeavour as “dad” which informs the audience that she is also Endeavour’s child, and is therefore Shoto’s sister. It then stands to reason that the two boys she was playing with (both of whom share their hair colour with her and Shoto) would be her brothers.

The Set Up: Shout Baby

Season 4, Episode 15 gives us a new ending sequence, Shout Baby, in which we see this...

Todoroki Family photos. On the left is a photo of Shoto on his first day of school (I double checked and the sign behind him indicates some sort of entrance ceremony). On the right, we are given a photo of the sister and white-haired brother as adults.

(Despite it not being explicit, you can tell that’s the white haired brother based on context clues. He looks so similar to the kid in the flashback that it doesn’t make sense for him to be anyone else. This is of course confirmed later in the season).

However, the red-haired brother is missing, which now launches the mystery of why. Why is he not in any of the photos? And then, as the frame pans down, we get this...

A torn, burnt corner of a photograph. For a while, I had some trouble making out what that blue stuff was in the corner, but a comment on Youtube helped point out that it is the exact same Sakura tree as the one in Shoto’s photo. You can even see the branch in the same spot.

So what does this tell us? Well, it’s the same place Shoto went to school, but the photo is burnt. Is it just a burned up copy of the same photo to symbolize how Endeavour ruined Shoto’s childhood? Or is it a photo of one of the other kids attending the same school, burned for mysterious reasons?

The actual answer is that it’s an Easter egg for manga readers who already know about the red haired brother but shhhhh we’re only talking about the anime right now.

The point is, we now have intrigue.

The Set Up: Season 4

Season 4, Episode 25 gives us our first full look at the Todoroki Family, with the siblings (sans Shoto) on a visit to their mom.

We get confirmation that the man in the photo from the ED is the white haired brother, and we learn their names as well, with the sister being named Fuyumi and the white-haired brother being named Natsuo! But, just like the ending sequence, the red-haired brother is missing.

His absence is never brought up, but this is only highlighted by the fact that Fuyumi teases Natsuo for not calling often ever since going away for college. His response ISN’T “aw come on, why do you only pick on me?” or “hey, at least I’m here! Unlike [red-haired brother]”. Instead he says, “aww come on, sis, I call you guys!”

No one calls attention to the fact that one of the siblings is missing. The red-haired brother is never even mentioned, which tell us as the audience that the characters know something we don't. Whatever reason they aren’t mentioning the 3rd brother is common knowledge amongst them, so there’s no need to bring him up.

But the anime ensures we remember that, yes, there IS in fact another brother. They replay the soccer flashback as Natsuo and Fuyumi watch Endeavour’s fight from their laptop, but we are also given this...

... Our second look at the red haired brother (played when Endeavour reminisces about his family). From this, we notice that the brother is significantly shorter than his siblings. It’s also worth noting that his bangs are in front of his face, meaning we never get a clear idea of his appearance (I’ll bring this up again later).

This episode also serves as the season finale, meaning fans were treated to an entire year of hiatus to theorize on the red-haired brother.

The Mystery Starts: His Name

Season 5, Episode 2 begins the mystery-of-the-missing-brother in earnest by providing us with this quote...

“Mom’s screams, Shoto’s crying, and what happened to our big brother, Touya”

Not only is this quote the first time the red-haired brother is being directly spoken about, but it also provides us with 3 pieces of information.

FIRST: His name is Touya. We now have something to call him besides “the red-haired brother”.

SECOND: He’s Natsuo’s big brother. At this point in the series, the age order for Natsuo and Fuyumi had not been confirmed in the anime, but we now knew Natsuo is either the second oldest child, or third oldest.

Touya being Natsuo’s “big brother” means Touya is either the oldest child, or the second oldest. But the fact that Natsuo says “our big brother” does seem to indicate Touya is the big brother to all of them.

This seems to be contradictory to the fact that Touya is just so small compared to his siblings in the 2nd flashback, but it’s certainly not impossible for younger siblings to outgrow the oldest.

(Yes I know technically their age order is revealed in episode 17 but I’m trying to walk through the experience live)

THIRD: We learn something happened to Touya. We don’t know what, but it’s implied to be bad. At the very least, it implies that whatever happened led to Touya no longer seeing his family.

The Mystery Continues: Quirk Singularity

In Season 5, Episode 3, the anime adds a fun visual while Deku explains the Quirk Singularity Doomsday Theory (the theory that, as quirks combine through generations, kids will end up with stronger and stronger quirks with bodies that cannot control them).

In the manga, this is just Deku talking to All Might, but the anime adds the same flashbacks Endeavour had during his Nomu fight for some visual intrigue. Not only does this flashback remind us that the Todoroki siblings exist, but it implies that they are somehow connected to the Quirk Singularity Theory (Shoto is shown as an example of how quirks combine to create stronger quirks, but perhaps we’ll learn some more about Touya to connect him to the theory as well).

The Mystery Continues: Touya’s Quirk

Season 5, Episode 7 gives us another flashback to Shoto’s childhood. Here, Endeavour comments on some very interesting details of Touya’s quirk...

“Touya was close. He had more firepower than me, but he had Rei’s weak constitution. He... was close”

It’s also worth noting that the English Dub of this scene has Endeavour end this line with, “He was close, until...”

So what does this teach us?

FIRST: The English Dub implies he was doing well UNTIL something happened. Was it the incident that Natsuo was referring to? Either way, it has once again created intrigue.

SECOND: Touya had a fire quirk, and it was even stronger than Endeavour’s (hey, look at that, kind of like quirk singularity, right? How the next generation gets stronger than their parents?).

Viewers may have been able to theorize that Touya had a fire quirk based purely on his hair colour (think of how Shoto’s hair represents which side produces which quirk) but this line gives us solid confirmation on his quirk.

THIRD: Touya “had Rei’s weak constitution”. Now, it’s debatable on what exactly a “weak constitution” means. Is this referring to his resolve? Was he too passive? Or is this referring to something else? (Perhaps Rei’s physical constitution?)

Well, wouldn’t you know it, but all the way back in Season 5, Episode 2 (the same one where we learn Touya’s name, go figure) we hear this exact phrase used in reference to the original OFA user... but ONLY in the English Dub.

Here’s what AFO says in the sub...

“My brother is frail”

...vs the dub

“My little brother has a weak constitution”

This gives us a direct reference point that a “weak constitution” in this series can be another way of saying someone is frail (and even if you don’t want to cross reference the dub and sub, OFA is portrayed as weak no matter what). This seems to tie in well with the fact that Touya was so much smaller and appeared weaker than his supposed younger siblings.

The Through Line: Arc Rearrangement

If you didn’t know, I’m here to tell you that the anime pulled a little sneaky on us manga readers by rearranging the arcs.

The manga originally went from Joint Training to (the upcoming arc) to Endeavour Agency, and while the anime has kept these events in the same chronological order, it changed the way they were presented to us. Endeavour Agency has been put first, which means we get more Touya information a heck of a lot closer to the rest of his reveals, compared to the manga.

Regardless of how you personally feel about the arc rearrangement, it works wonders for Touya’s mystery. Endeavour is sprinkled throughout many episodes of the Joint Training Arc in the anime, so it feels rather natural to go straight to the Agency Arc because Endeavour is acting as our narrative through line. He’s been a reoccurring presence, so it doesn’t feel as if he’s coming out of nowhere. 

The Reward: The Photo

If you’ve been paying attention to the clues the series has left regarding the missing Todoroki child, you are rewarded in Season 5, Episode 17.

The episode is rather... flashback heavy, but it does a good job reminding us of all the Todoroki drama before we head to the dinner. And at the end of the episode (literally the last thing we see before the ED), observant viewers who have been keeping track of Touya are rewarded when we finally get to see...

... Touya’s face. The first instance where it’s unobstructed. There he is. The missing Todoroki son. He’s so cute!

(Also yes yes I know his hair is now white and I’m sure that was very confusing for anime onlies. However, I promise it is the same kid.)

But, perhaps more importantly, we learn the implication that Touya is dead. His photo is on a shrine where Endeavour is praying, and the shrine seems to be set up in a child’s room that has remain unchanged (small shoes, a soccer ball, and toys on the bookshelf, all of which seem to be too young for any of the living Todoroki siblings). Suddenly it becomes all too clear why the family didn’t bring him up that often, and why Natsuo was so upset about “what happened to our big brother, Touya”.

The Tease: What Comes Next?

Season 5, Episode 18 leaves us with a teaser for the future of Keeping Up With The Todoroki's.

Touya’s death is confirmed, and we even learn a bit more on the circumstances surrounding it, as we learn Endeavour feels responsible for whatever happened. We also learned that Natsuo blames Endeavour, hinting that he certainly played some part in it.

However, all of these hints lead to a story for another time (more likely Season 6, to be precise). I won’t spoil what exactly happens, but I can confirm that we eventually see Touya’s death and the events leading up to it through flashback, and I’m honestly so excited.

Perhaps I’ll make a part 2 to this post when the anime gets to that point.

Hope you enjoyed!

[perpetual-stories]

How To Fight Writers Block

hello, hello. hope everyone is doing well. as you can all tell, this post will be about how to fight writers block.

it’s really annoying to me when I hear people say “oh you don’t have writers block, you’re just lazy.”

first of all, yes, I am naturally lazy. second of all, how dare you. writing isn’t as easy as many think. granted, all you have to do is write down words on paper, but it’s not always easy to find the right words to express what you are feeling, or what you wish to say.

I have had terrible writer’s block for the last few days and it’s horrible! as a business owner or a small writing store, I have to be ready to write and fulfill my clients’ ideas and orders.

it’s not easy. It takes a heavy toll on my imagination, and digs me a deep pit of blockage, drowning in the lack of originality because of the constant writing and repetition or certain phrases and sentences in different projects.

i am making this post in the hopes to remind myself about over coming the dreaded and sometimes skeptically believed writer’s block.

What is writer’s block?

Yeah, I know. We all know what that is, but let me define it.

is the state of being unable to proceed with writing, and/or the inability to start writing something new

some people believe it to be a real problem, others believe it's “all in your head”

What Causes Writer’s Block?

in the 1970s, clinical psychologists Jerome Singer and Michael Barrios decided to find out

they concluded that there are four broad causes of writer's block:

Excessively harsh self-criticism

Fear of comparison to other writers

Lack of external motivation, like attention and praise

Lack of internal motivation, like the desire to tell one's story

How to overcome writer's block: 20 tips

1. Develop a writing routine:

Author and artist Twyla Tharp once wrote: “Creativity is a habit, and the best creativity is a result of good work habits.”

it might seem counterintuitive

if you only write when you “feel creative,” you're bound to get stuck in a tar pit of writer's block

The only way to push through is by disciplining yourself to write on a regular schedule. It might be every day, every other day, or just on weekends — but whatever it is, stick to it!

2. Use "imperfect" words:

A writer can spend hours looking for the perfect word or phrase to illustrate a concept

You can avoid this fruitless endeavor by putting, “In other words…” and simply writing what you’re thinking, whether it’s eloquent or not

You can then come back and refine it later by doing a CTRL+F search for “in other words.”

3. Do non-writing activities:

one of the best ways to climb out of a writing funk is to take yourself out of your own work and into someone else’s

Go to an exhibition, to the cinema, to a play, a gig, eat a delicious meal

immerse yourself in great STUFF and get your synapses crackling in a different way

Snippets of conversations, sounds, colors, sensations will creep into the space that once felt empty

4. Freewrite through it:

free-writing involves writing for a pre-set amount of time without pause — and without regard for grammar, spelling, or topic. You just write.

The goal of freewriting is to write without second-guessing yourself — free from doubt, apathy, or self-consciousness, all of which contribute to writer's block. Here’s how:

Find the right surroundings. Go somewhere you won't be disturbed.

Pick your writing utensils. Will you type at your computer, or write with pen and paper? (Tip: if you're prone to hitting the backspace button, you should freewrite the old-fashioned way!)

Settle on a time-limit. Your first time around, set your timer for just 10 minutes to get the feel for it. You can gradually increase this interval as you grow more comfortable with freewriting.

5. Relax on your first draft:

Many writers suffer form perfectionism, which is especially debilitating during a first draft

“Blocks often occur because writers put a lot of pressure on themselves to sound ‘right’ the first time. A good way to loosen up and have fun again in a draft is to give yourself permission to write imperfectly.” — editor Lauren Hughes

perfect is the enemy of good,” so don't agonize about getting it exactly right! You can always go back and edit, maybe even get a second pair of eyes on the manuscript

6. Don’t start at the beginning:

the most intimidating part of writing is the start, when you have a whole empty book to fill with coherent words

instead of starting with the chronological beginning of whatever it is you’re trying to write, dive into middle, or wherever you feel confident

7. Take a shower:

Have you ever noticed that the best ideas tend to arrive while in the shower, or while doing other “mindless” tasks?

research shows that when you’re doing something monotonous (such as showering, walking, or cleaning), your brain goes on autopilot, leaving your unconscious free to wander without logic-driven restrictions

showering is my favourite thing to do if I may add

8. Balance your inner critic:

successful writers have in common is the ability to hear their inner critic, respectfully acknowledge its points, and move forward

You don't need to completely ignore that critical voice, nor should you cower before it

you must establish a respectful, balanced relationship, so you can address what's necessary and skip over what's insecure and irrelevant

9. Switch up your tool:

a change of scenery can really help with writer's block. However, that scenery doesn't have to be your physical location — changing up your writing tool can be just as big a help!

if you’ve been typing on your word processor of choice, try switching to pen and paper. Or if you're just sick of Google Docs, consider using specialized novel writing software.

10. Change your POV:

great advice from editor Lauren Hughes: “When blocked, try to see your story from another perspective ‘in the room’ to help yourself move beyond the block. How might a minor character narrate the scene if they were witnessing it? A ‘fly on the wall’ or another inanimate object?

11. Exercise your creative muscles:

Any skill requires practice if you want to improve, and writing is no different! So if you’re feeling stuck, perhaps it’s time for a strengthening scribble-session to bolster your abilities

12. Map out your story:

If your story has stopped chugging along, help it pick up steam by taking a more structured approach — specifically, by writing an outline

13. Write something else:

Though it's important to try and push through writer's block with what you're actually working on, sometimes it's simply impossible

feel free to push your current piece to the side for now and write something new

14. Work on your characters:

It follows that if your characters are not clearly defined, you’re more likely to run into writer’s block

15. Stop writing for readers:

write for yourself, not your potential readers

this will help you reclaim the joy of being creative and get you back in touch with what matters: the story.

this is something I really need to do. because of my etsy business i don't write for fun anymore, but instead as a business and a deadline. i'm going to have to pull out my old crappy wattled fanfics or write some new ones.

16. Try a more visual process:

when words fail you, forget them and get visual. Create mind maps, drawings, Lego structures — ideally related to your story, but whatever unblocks your mind!

17. Look for the root of it:

writer’s block often comes from a problem deeper than simple “lack of inspiration.” So let's dig deep: why are you really blocked? Ask yourself the following questions:

Do I feel pressure to succeed and/or competition with other writers?

Have I lost sight of what my story is about, or interest in where it's going?

Do I lack confidence in my own abilities, even if I've written plenty before?

Have I not written for so long that I feel intimidated by the mere act?

Am I simply feeling tired and run-down?

once you identify what's wrong, it'll be so much easier to fix.

18. Quit the Internet:

If willpower isn’t your strong suit and your biggest challenge is staying focused, try a site blocker like Freedom or an app like Cold Turkey

19. Let the words find you:

meditate, go for a walk, take that shower

Word Palette is a great app that features a keyboard of random words, allowing you to simply click your way to your next masterpiece.

You can also try AI auto-completers like Talk to Transformer, where you can enter a phrase and let the app “guess what comes next.”

even though they often produce nonsense, it's a great way to help that writer's block.

20. Write like Hemingway:

And if your biggest block is your own self-doubt about your prose, Hemingway offers suggestions to improve your writing as you go

it's a pretty cool app if you ask me.

it highlights your sentences (if need be) and makes suggestions on how to improve them!

well, there you have it! a lengthy post on how to fight writer's block. now i just hope i can combat my own soon.

like, comment and reblog if you find this useful! feel free to reblog in instagram and tag me perpetualstories

Follow me on instagram and tumblr for more writing and grammar tips and more!

[ask-hunterxhunter]

Helloo royal Guards as yandere please

But without the presence of Meruem because I find it difficult for them to fall in love with Reader while serving the King.

Mmmh, Neferpitou with a Reader male because my headcanon is that she is a infertile female uhhh I dont know how to explain it but I think that in the ant castes there are infertile females that are workers

Yeah, as far as I know, that's how it is with ants... I'm not an expert, but I think the female workers are infertile and care for the queen. Their development depends on how much food they receive when they're larvae. If there is abundance, some larvae will be "princess ants" (fertile and will leave the colony to start their own once the time is right).

Hmm... The Chimera Ants, however, seem to work quite different. Besides the whole "Ant Giving Birth to an Anthro Lion" and what not, they didn't end up starving once the queen died (which I read happens because there are no more larvae and the ants need them to properly feed) and many of them left to try starting colonies of their own (even some of the males seemed to want that, not just females like Zanzan)...

Perhaps this is more like some species of wasp? I've read that the queen produces a pheromone that keeps the others infertile. Once she dies, they battle for dominance in order to become the next queen. With the Chimera, however, they left for new territories rather than stay and fight...

...

Is there an entomologist in the house?

Neferpitou

The royal guards, regardless of Meruem’s presence, are not exactly easy to deal with even in their normal state (and I don’t think this is simply because they are not humans). Take them to Yandere level and, well, let’s just say it is not a pretty picture…

Pitou is not someone whose interest is easily aroused (she is the kind that “knows several people but regards only a few of them as her actual friends”) and, in a sense, the opposite is also true: It’s not easy to lose such interest, either. With her in Yandere-mode, well, it’s basically impossible. Once you’ve realized what is going, taking the usual measures to try dealing with it (such as moving, contacting the police, so on), don’t waste any time hoping she will “move on” or “change targets” as some stalkers do. It's not in her nature (both due to her personality and instincts).

Not that you would certainly realize what is going on right away. It would depend on her mood and how she decides to deal with her feelings (and she can’t change this decision): She may just go for the straight, extreme actions or keep a convincing facade of normality for a while… Regardless of whether this “normality” is you trying to kill each other or being friends (or she at least living in peace among humans)...

In the “enemies” case, Pitou would not spend days brooding about having fallen for an enemy and trying to get rid of those feelings. She would just shrug the situation off and start to debate whether it’s best to kidnap you right away or try to court you. If she’s working with other Ants for whatever reason or they just happen to be in the area, she would make sure everyone knows you are not to be hurt (and may God have mercy on whoever doesn’t listen). Her attacks would still be convincing from your point of view while being harmless playing in Pitou’s mind. After all, she lets you escape with no injures!

The “convincing facade” is more regarding how deep (and unsettling) her feelings are. In both scenarios, she would confess soon and, being what/how she is, likely act on it. No matter how much you explain you’re not interested or what arguments you use, Pitou would just wave her tail, perhaps ask what you mean exactly in that “innocently curious” tone of hers and… Completely ignore what you just said.

Well, okay, maybe you need to remember she isn’t completely human, so you can’t demand that she behaves like one, right?

Oh, boy, are you making a mistake… Not being human doesn’t mean that Pitou doesn’t understand that there are limits.

She understands.

She just couldn’t care less.

Remember when she probed Pokkles’ brain with him still alive? When Gon and Killua saw her for the first time? This is nothing next to how she can be when she’s obsessed with you.

I mentioned she would act on her feelings, right? Here’s another thing: She is also likely to do so in the manner of an animal trying to attract a particular mate. And because we’re talking Yandere-mode, I don’t mean the “bird dancing” or “penguin offering a pebble”. Not even the “cat giving you a dead prey”…

If you’re friends/she’s living in the human society, there would be some restraint at first, to the point her insistence would seem innocent… Then she would either grow impatient and kidnap you, or things would escalate, giving you hints to the darkness of her feelings until you’re forced to accept that this friend is a threat to you. Maybe after returning home, you find a note in your bed in which Pitou wrote that she loves how soft your bed is, how your home’s security is lacking… And, by the way, that person seems to have a crush on you… Hmm… Should she break their hands or their legs? The playful tone of the note only makes it darker.

Somehow you know she is not kidding.

If you’re enemies, well, she has no reason to restrain herself from the start. Her interactions with you would become far darker even if she miiight not kidnap you right away (for whatever reason) especially since she wouldn’t waste time playing by human rules. Pitou would find a way to make a claim (pinning you down, rubbing herself against you like a cat, and even leaving a love bite/hickey on your neck are very much on the table) or say it loud and clear in battle when there are other humans around. This isn’t just for the other humans, but for you as well: You’re hers, now. There is no room for discussion.

Also, in this scenario, it’s not impossible that Pitou’s “love” started with her deciding to make you her pet. Collar and all.

It should be said that Pitou is a cat in almost every sense, so the tendency to “play with her food” is very much present... Yes, she sees you as a “mate” rather than “prey”, but your attempts to avoid/hide from her consist of an opportunity that is far too good to miss! You change address and, after a few days, start to relax… Only for her to leave a new “present” at your door! It’s both funny and cute how you thought something so simple would keep her away! Awww, you’re so adorable!

Again, it’s true that some of her actions (such as this) have no malice whatsoever behind them, but I repeat, don’t let yourself be fooled: She is very much aware that what she is doing is creepy and wrong and why. I’m repeating this because Pitou can be as charming and cute as a cat… And as devious and sadistic as any human.

While some yanderes give you time (perhaps hoping you’ll eventually come around or because chasing you is so much fun), Pitou is among those who won’t take long before deciding to “take you home”.

Pitou loves having you all to herself and will be very affectionate, especially when it’s just the two of you. Maybe this sounds a little cute on principle? Yeah, trust me, it is not. It’s terrifying! Even when you reject her and she caresses your head saying you’re cute, you can see the insanity in her eyes, mixed with a sick infatuation.

It doesn’t help that, at times, her being “affectionate” involves brushing your hair, cuddling and even bathing together. Not only this invasion of space can already be uncomfortable, something about how Pitou does it makes you feel too much like a pet, especially when she talks about how much she loves you, how lovely you are, and how she is never going to let you go. In this situation, and the way she speaks, those words make you feel cold.

You should have realized by now that there is no reasoning with her and this isn’t because she is not human. Pitou is likely to twist your arguments or make points that would frankly make you think she learned from Illumi or Hisoka (and she only does that because she thinks it’s funny, anyway).

As for Pitou, well, she can’t say she is happy that you’re uncomfortable, but she believes it’s just temporary and you’ll get used to your new life… Hey, humans capture animals all the time to put them in zoos or circus. She isn’t that bad in comparison, now, is she?

She’s easily the kind of yandere that responds to pleas for freedom by caressing your head and saying you’re cute. How could she possibly let you go? You’d run away! Besides, she can keep you well-fed and protected. You say such silly things, love!

That’s not to say Pitou doesn’t have a limit to how much rejection she can take or her patience. And this is a line you don’t want to cross. It’s hard to say if Pitou would get to the point of physical punishment, but this doesn’t mean she wouldn’t make use of other means.

Menthuthyoupi.

It’s not easy to catch the attention of any of the Royal Trio, each for their own reasons. In Youpi’s case, it’s partially because he doesn’t have any human DNA on him, so despite being able to communicate and all, he doesn’t usually pay that much attention to people. It’s almost like he’s an alien (or we are, in his view). Even in a scenario when he is living in peace with humans, he doesn’t have exactly a clear opinion about them. They just exist. Maybe a few of them are okay enough, but that’s it… And in a scenario when he is still fighting them, well, they are the enemy. It’s pretty simple.

Youpi is direct, both in personality and as a Chimera Ant (in that he follows his instincts without hesitation). As such, like Pitou, he wouldn’t avoid his feelings once he comes to understand them. It’s a little strange, yes, but he accepts the fact that he loves you and that’s it. That said, Youpi would be initially confused (especially if you’re an enemy. How on Earth did he develop this sort of feeling for someone he’s supposed to kill?), and he wouldn’t make a move until he is sure of what he is feeling and what he wants.

Sadly, because this isn’t him in a healthy state of mind, this doesn’t mean anything good for you. This isn’t a shy monster-boy finding a human he considers special. This isn’t even “enemies falling in love” or “dark romance”. This is an “already dangerous individual” developing an equally dangerous obsession.

At first, Youpi starts to stalk you (if you’re his enemy/if you’ve never spoken before) or try to find excuses to spend more time with you (if you’re on friendly terms) in this attempt to understand exactly what is going on with himself. During this time, his feelings for you become stronger along with his desire to know everything about you. He’s curious. He’s fascinated. He wants to see you more often. He wants to talk with you… He just wants to be near you…

It’s pretty disturbing because, despite his size, Youpi will find the means to stalk you without anyone realizing it, just like an animal hunting. You may notice a shadow here and now, feel a chill up your spine, but it won’t be enough to make the danger clear enough. If you two are enemies, there are chances you’ll realize that there is something is wrong, as he either avoids fighting you (no issues with anyone else, though) or that he doesn’t seem to be actively trying to hurt you as much as before… Despite this, you’ll never, ever imagine he is in love with you.

Well, disturbing as it may be, it sounds almost as harmless as he can be in this scenario, right?

Not the case. You can’t forget how obsession grows, how it affects a person, and that it gets to the point when merely stalking isn’t enough. There is no such thing as a harmless yandere/stalker. So even if Youpi, at first, is satisfied with merely watching you from afar and making sure you aren’t hurt, it starts to not be enough. He sees you with your friends, smiling at them, hugging them, laughing… And he starts to imagine how it would be to have you doing these things with him, to be the one who makes you smile, to be the one holding you… And he realizes he wants it.

He loves you. He wants you.

And there is no reason to not act on those feelings.

Regardless of the circumstances between you, he seems to take the rejection well (if you manage to control the shock, act calmly and explain your reasons for it). At first, he thinks about your points and may even understand them… Only to find out that he doesn’t care. He can’t forget you. He can’t let go of you… And honestly, he doesn’t really want to. That you don’t feel the same now doesn’t matter. Don’t some couples start not feeling the same for each other, only for those feelings to change later?

In the case of “peaceful existence”, it might be easier to get a glimpse of his instability than with the Neferpitou, but it doesn’t make much of a difference. Even the precautions people normally take in those situations would only work for a certain time… The myth of the animal that “will pursue its prey to the ends of the Earth once it has its scent” is true when it comes down to Youpi (literally even).

Now, while Youpi is less likely to resort to kidnapping (at least right away), he would still find ways to inject himself into your life, so even then, you can’t say you’re free. He may not go straight to threatening your loved ones (and it’s hard to predict if he would follow with it), but there are many other tactics that he could and would use.

And being less likely to kidnap you doesn’t mean he wouldn’t if he didn’t decide it is the better course of action. After all, no matter how strong you prove yourself to be, it doesn’t mean you’re invincible. It doesn’t mean you can’t be hurt. If he keeps you, he can’t make sure you’re safe.

Either way, there is no way to be free of him.

If he kidnapped you, Youpi wouldn’t go so far as to place you in an actual cage or chain you up, but he would find means to make sure you can’t leave.

He is easily the most patient of the trio, including with your rejections and attempts to escape. It doesn’t please him and nothing can convince him to let you go, but at least Youpi doesn’t get angry, condescending, or twist things around. In fact, it gets to the point when you can lose control and try hitting him that he wouldn’t even raise his voice. He would just hold your wrists (carefully) and try to calm you down…

Now, just because he isn’t human, it doesn’t mean Youpi is unable to understand that what he is doing is wrong and why you’re so unhappy. Hey, animals also don’t like to be taken from the place they consider their home like that. He can relate, he can understand. But his obsession is too great for him to let you go and, instead, he hopes that you’ll adapt with time.

Not having human genes and understanding even less about humans than Pitou and Pouf, in his desire to make you comfortable (and make you accept him), Youpi would likely try to learn what he can about humans (probably even asking for Pitou’s help).

For Youpi, your presence alone makes him feel good. While he wouldn’t force you into things that make you uncomfortable or excessively invade your personal space the way Pitou might, there would still be times when Youpi would want to show you some affection. Chances are, he would enjoy holding you close (especially because, next to him, you feel so small and cute) and nuzzling you, which is not only a common expression of affection among animals, but it also gives him an extra opportunity to enjoy your scent.

Youpi might be less cruel than most of yanderes, but this doesn’t mean much. At the end of the day, whether he has kidnapped you or not, the situation is still essentially the same. You’re being hurt either way…

Shaiapouf.

Even in his normal state of mind, for all his apparent calmness and self-control, it’s been showed several times that Pouf can be actually quite intense with his emotions, to the point they cloud his thoughts (and that’s a polite way to say it). Well, multiply that by a thousand and you’ll only scratch the surface of how he becomes as a Yandere.

Even if, by some miracle, this is a scenario where Pouf lives peacefully with humans it doesn’t mean he likes them. It’s more that he “tolerates” and “accepts” their existence as an unpleasant fact and it’s very much unlikely he would have human friends (he would probably find a way to live with comfort and luxury while having as little contact as possible with them). In a sense, you can compare him to some yokais in Inuyasha… He doesn’t go out of his way to antagonize humans (and risk a fight), but he sure as hell doesn’t care for them.

Until you, that is.

Pouf will never be able to say when his feelings for you started to grow and it will take a long time for him to understand them. By the time this happens, well, he is way into “Obsession Land”. Once he can no longer deny what he feels and it hits him that he loves you, his first reaction is… Well, pretty much an emotional tantrum, followed by self-despise and intense fury. How could he ever fall for a human? Disgraceful! Terrible! How could he fall so low? He even tries to hate you for making him feel that way, only to realize he can’t.

This lasts for a while, with him trying to convince himself to bury those feelings, no matter what it takes. If you two are enemies, be prepared: Pouf may consider killing you as the only way to “get rid of this shame”. He soon realizes he can’t bear the idea of you being hurt, let alone by him (well, like this, I mean)… But at least you’re not having to deal with his obsession yet.

Sadly, it doesn’t mean this will last long enough for something to happen before things get out of control. Pouf can’t get you out of his mind, possibly deciding to “observe you” in order to “remind himself” that you’re just a human: Flawed, inferior, and unworthy. This evolves into stalking and has the opposite effect: He becomes more and more infatuated, as well as worried that you might get hurt. You’re so beautiful, so gentle… You should not be fighting! At all! Oh, you’re an angel. No wonder he fell for you! You’re perfect for him!

If this is the “peaceful scenario”, the course of events is still pretty similar, no matter how you’ve met. At first, wanting to get you out of his system, he may be cold whenever you meet and even a little nasty, but it won’t work. He will start to long for more of your presence and if he manages to spend time with you, to consider you only of the few (if not the only) human who is better than the rest of the masses.

Either way, once he accepts that he loves you, you’re screwed.

In the “enemy scenario”, Pouf may try once to convince you to come with him, speaking highly of you and how much he loves you… In his mind, it’s poetry. In reality? The words may be pretty, but the way he says them, the shine in his eyes, the way he insists to hold your hands between his… Well, it’s creepy. Pouf may accept you denying him for a while, but it won’t take long until he seizes the first chance he has to take you. He was just being polite, offering you the chance of doing so by choice (if he does that when you’re gravely injured in a battle, he will use that frequently to point out he saved you and how you need him to keep you safe).

In the “peaceful scenario”, again, it’s not that much a different course of events. Your attempts to make him understand you’re not interested are ignored and there is precious little that anyone can do to keep you safe and, yes, including the Hunter Organization. He would do everything to get you.

In his mind, he is not doing anything wrong. If anything, his actions are almost heroic and proof of his devotion to you.

When you wake up in an unknown location and start to freak out or try to escape, Pouf reacts as if this is just adorable, then going on about how he loves you and wants to keep you safe. And let me tell you, this isn’t a “flowery speech” or like his funny moments in the anime. At this moment you realize you’re in a lot of trouble and that the chances of Pouf ever letting you go are non-existent.

It's not easy to determine exactly how deep his delusion goes; if it’s only about the “perfect life” you two will share or if it includes you. It’s not impossible that Pouf isn’t really in love with you, but rather an idealized version of you. He may also believe that, deep down, you do love him and just need time to realize it.

Pouf is the “adoring” kind of Yandere. He would love to spoil you, care for you, and would want to lavish you with gifts. Perhaps you’d expect him to be the less dangerous of the trio, or at least the most manageable, right? You’re dead wrong. Pouf is actually the worst of them, maybe even on the list of the worst yanderes of all Hunter cast.

His personality also means Pouf doesn’t believe anyone is worthy of your attention and if there is anyone you like (or that he thinks you like), it’s just because they’re manipulative and toxic. It’s his sacred duty to keep you safe from such scum! Perhaps the better term for him, rather than “jealous”, would be “possessive”. As far as he is concerned, you have no need to get in contact with another human ever again.

You thought he hated Komugi? Trust me, that was nothing compared to this.

He would lock you in a room, which you’d only leave while accompanied by him (he can’t have you trying to run off, can he?). Actually… If that happens, you should be glad. This guy isn’t above placing bars along a corner of his chambers (they are certainly large enough), turning that area into your “room” (bed and all). It certainly would appeal to him, especially since it gives him more chance to watch you.

There are stories about how excessive love can be suffocating, the “The Chaser” episode from the “Twilight Zone”… Well, Pouf’s love wouldn’t follow this line. This would be just tiresome. His adoration is frightening, even for a Yandere. The way he’s so sweet to you is mixed with a certain darkness, not letting you forget you’re dealing with an unstable person.

He understands this is a time of adaptation for you and this change of life is a shock, but he wouldn’t be happy if you asked him to let you go every day. In the same sickly-sweet way of always, he will mix subtle (or not so subtle) threats with words of adoration. Maybe he should chain you up… Maybe you’re thinking about that person who (he believes) has a crush on you? Maybe he should make sure you never think of them again…

There is also the fact that Pouf is among the Yanderes who would have almost no respect for your personal space. For all his adoration of you, he can be quite manipulative and controlling: If he wants to hold you in his lap, brush your hair, have you sleeping next to him, dance with you, well… There is little point in fighting. You would have to choose your battles wisely and keep in mind that Pouf isn’t above tying you up if you “start to be difficult”. Some Yanderes are happy enough with having you with them and may have enough patience to “wait for you to love them back”… Well, with Pouf, it depends on his mood.

There would be times when his behavior is all “patient and loving” (more like he just smiles when you try to get away or lash out)… And times when he would basically “demand” that you love him. Not with words, though: You’d learn that there are times when it’s safer for you to act a little more loving towards him (within reason) rather than antagonize him.

[soldmysoultootomeboys]

Hi! Can I request headcannons for the human brothers accidently summoning an angel mc instead of a demon and the angel mc insisting on sticking around and helping them?

The other brothers: :) Satan: >:)

This has been in the drafts for too long. I really love the absolute mood switch between Lucifers and Mammons. And just Satans in general ig.

Lucifer

After years of religious trauma at the hands of his father Lucifer finally thought he was free of any connection to the church. Summoning a flaming seraphim at 3 in the morning was not a pleasant way to find out that he was wrong.

As for you, being summoned for the first time in your long long life was an unwelcome surprise. You were a seraphim for heaven's sake. The cream of the crop, highest of the high, and that wasn’t pride speaking only facts. You were crucial to running the celestial realm.

But somehow you’re undeniably tied to his human. You could feel where his soul became intermeshed with your very essence. How wrong it felt to be tied to something so mortal, and delicate, and free.

Any attempts to leave would surely be met with disaster.

So you stay. Lucifer is cold. You can’t blame him. Being there reopens old wounds that he’d rather have remained closed. But just ignoring each other isn’t going to work.

He’s not interested in the celestial realm, and despises any blessing you try and give him, but a fresh cup of coffee during an all-nighter seems to make him brighter than any magic you could do and when you run your hands through his hair he looks at you with more fondness than you can comprehend.

You learn to be more human. He learns to let go of the past.

And one day you find that you don’t want to leave anymore.

For celestial sake that thought should as well be treason! But it’s true.

It’s a spring afternoon and Lucifer plays celestial lullabies on his piano and you want nothing more than for the beautiful night to come so you can sweep him in your arms and remind him how he glows.

You don’t know what is right and what is wrong anymore, but you know that this human is yours and you are his. To rip off your wings would be to find solace in his arms. But you can not give him that. This he knows.

So you promise to protect him, in words he can’t hear but he understands. The spread of your wings shield him from the world and you press blessings to his skin in the shape of the crescents in his back and your lips on his neck. If nothing else you’ll keep him safe. When the world seems too big and the stress of his life gets him down you’ll always be here for him to crawl back to. You can give him that much.

Mammon

That was it

You had to have been assigned the stupidest human in the world

When you were promoted to guardian angel you kinda thought it would be more ‘protecting orphans’ and ‘guiding lost puppies back home’ NOT watching a grown man spend his last paycheck on his eighth Nigerian prince scam

Seriously mammon? Did the prophetic dreams you sent mean nothing? The visions of the future he coincidentally had after hitting his head on a light post, only simple illusions? What more could you try beyond simply marching down their and clocking him on the head yourself?

...unless

Raphael would have your wings if you went to the human world. But that would be a lot less painful that having to watch whatever Mammon was going to do with all the rubber cement he just bought.

The next morning you decide to sneak down. The city was amazing, all colored light and fun machines that whizzed by you on the streets

But you had to stay focused

You were an angel on a mission

You made your way towards central park. Mammon went there every morning to swindle tourists out of their wallets. If you were fast you’d get there before the first patrol office started chasing him.

Spotting the albino you marched straight towards him, readied yourself, and smacked him over the head.

Maybe not very angel-like but it worked.

One introduction later and you're officially a guardian angel

Mammon’s actually pretty nice once you get to know him. Sure he may be a bit too obsessed with lining his pockets but for all his talk he never hesitates to try and help you out.

Consistent affection and care is good for him. He never really knows how to react when you wrap your wings around him but even with his tsundere objections it's obvious he’s pleased.

He’ll take whatever scraps of affection you’ll give him and practically beams at every little gesture you do, no matter how small or insignificant.

You do have to be careful though.

At his request you had attempted to bless him with a bit of luck. An easy enough spell for an angel like you (even if you were 90% sure he planned to go gambling after). Whatever scheming he’s doing immediately stops the moment you cup his face. He seems to freeze when you lean in, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek

You were about to congratulate yourself on a spell well done when you noticed the condition he was in. He was like a living statue, a statue with a very very red face

Before you can ask what was wrong he flails pushing you away and darting off to his room

Any attempts to speak to him the rest of the day were met with incoherent shouting.

It might be best to withhold any magic until you can figure out how humans work

Levi

Once again Levi’s dedication to anime gets him into trouble

It started with his most recent obsession, a new anime that follows a group of angels, produced by the famous company, Dove. The plot, the animation, the soundtrack, all of it was amazing so when they came out with a new limited edition item featuring the very symbol that the main character wore he just had to have it

The moment it came he was setting it up on its own altar, a handmade replica just like in the show only for- Oh no

Before his eyes burst a shining visage of light and then you

You blink in surprise, whether it's from taking a human form for the first time in decades or the strange new room you were in, only you know

The scene may be foreign but the guy quivering on the floor was not

BE NOT AFRAID

Your booming voice echoes around the room

For some reason the guy begins to freak out even more

Didn’t he see your halo? You even told him to not be afraid. Were humans really so strange? :(

Oh well. You hum making your aura as comforting as possible and slowly the guy calms down enough for you to coax him into a seat as you begin to explain.

Which might not have been the best move.

The moment it sunk in he was bombarding you with questions

Yes you were an angel, no you didn’t know what anime was, yes you had wings, no you didn’t have any secret ultimate moves...whatever those were

He ranted and raved over this and that and you let him. He seemed like he needed someone to talk to. It also let you piece together what had happened.

He seemed to be a natural sorcerer, and a powerful one at that if he could someone an angel with no training or even knowledge that he could do magic

Just a few minutes in his presence made his self loathing obvious. Mix in a bit of anxiety and envy and you essentially have Levi in a nutshell

So you decide to stay

What kind of angel would you be if you just left him here? Michael would understand.

Or he wouldn't, it didn’t really matter because you already made up your mind.

Living with Levi is an experience for both of you.

He introduces you to so many new things. He had little boxes that could control light and screens containing actual people to talk to. It was all quite fanciful

In return you act as his friend, encouraging him to go out with you and attending cons with him, even if you still weren't exactly sure what cosplaying is

Slowly he begins to open up for you

He’s still nervous to go out in public, and a complete introvert at heart.

But that was fine. You could both figure out this new world together, at your own pace

Satan

Definitely was not trying to summon a demon to lay havoc on his enemies

Nope, not him he says all while trying to casually kick away vials of mysterious fluids

...Right

You’ve been down to the human world enough to know a demon summoner when you see one

Or in this case a failed summoner

He has no excuse for why he called you and instead seems more insistent that you leave

As much as you you might like to return to the celestial realm, you cannot in good conscience leave a man that you know is going to try and raise hell on earth the moment your gone

So you stay, and it's a good thing you do

This man has anger issues like no other

You thought Raphael was bad this guy is like a demon himself

However he seems willing to try and make the best of what he considers a bad situation

He asks you a lot of questions on the celestial realm

For a guy who knows so much about the devildom he seems to really be lacking on any knowledge on the other celestial beings

He mostly asks you questions on the celestial war, which is a touchy topic at best and downright upsetting at worst

He’s very interested in your opinions as your point of view is very different from his own, what with being a different species and everything

You learn things too, mostly about humans and cats but you suppose its a fair trade

Because of this you become close friends

You really win him over when he finds out your calming aura naturally attracts the stray kittens Satan's been trying to pet for the last few months

It’s not uncommon to head out to late night coffee shops and discuss the merits of different aspects of your lives

But maybe you’ve gotten a bit to close when he starts asking you to revise his summoning notes

Asmo

Apparently a lifetime of partying has prepared Asmo for some very weird discoveries

When you're sent down to the human world you have one job, find and keep an eye on the potentially dangerous summoner who's been in contact with multiple high level demons in the past few days.

Instead you end up meeting Asmo

You were prepared for a fight, not to be tackled into a hug the moment you revealed yourself

Asmo on the other hand is squealing with excitement

Sweetie, he's been waiting for this moment! This is his first time meeting an angel after all

He immediately begins talking about everything he wants to do

You quickly find out that he hasn’t made any pacts...yet, if only because he “couldn’t bear to damage his skin with such an ugly mark”

...Well you suppose that's a reason to not sell your soul

Even thoughts he's aware of the three realms it doesn’t make him any less enamoured with you

He’s never met an angel, he’s quick to mention. He’d love to get to know you, if you get what he means ;)

Are all humans so upfront?

If you decline he still wants to see your true form, even after you explain that no, if you transform you will not just be a beautiful angel with wings but instead a glowing mass of eyes and feathers and angelic light that will probably end up blinding him

Blinded because of your beauty ;) ;) ;)

That said he’s easily satisfied when you just bring out your wings.

He loves fussing with them and decorates them with jewelry and roses whenever you leave them out

He even starts an angel trend on insta after posting a photo as if they were coming from his back instead

Claims your glowing aura is great for his skin

You’re not sure if that’s a pick up line or if he’s serious but he definitely basks in your presence

Loves when you talk about the celestial realm, somewhere he desperately wants to go

I mean it's the only place that's fit for a beauty like him right? But of course he can’t die yet, his fans would be sooo upset

You agree to bring him up there one day, even if that sounds a little morbid

Of course he asks you to become his guardian angel

That may not be your actual job but you can’t resist his puppy dog eyes

You and him go pretty much everywhere together, bar some more xxx rated sites

He introduces you to parties and bars, and while you don’t indulge it's enjoyable to see humans in their natural element. They’re so fun and free spirited just like Asmo

Maybe that's what attracted you to him in the first place

He loves life for what it is, something so admirably human

But you don’t slack off either. You take your role as Official Guardian Angel seriously. You guard his drinks when he goes to the bathroom, and hum celestial lullabies when he’s sad and escort him down dark alleys when walking home. He has nothing to fear with you around.

You’ve become very fond of this human. Perhaps you’ll stick around a bit longer than you planned

Beel

It’s rare to be assigned to a human so...mundane

But that’s exactly what Beel is. He goes to the gym in the mornings, works a nine to five, and comes back home to his dog

He even has a good relationship with this family, do you know how hard that is to find in this day and age???

The only thing even slightly abnormal about this guy is his appetite

He could put a gluttony demon to shame with the way he eats

But the point is you really can’t figure out why you’ve been assigned to him or how your supposed to guide him

Eat a little less? Stop stealing your brother's lunch?

It’s the first time in a long while you’ve been so stumped

So you do what any sane angel would, go down to the human world to meet him yourself

He’s a likeable guy and it’s easy to get close to him, more so do to your angelic status

Although it’s surprising how well he takes the whole angel revelation

To be honest your pretty sure he forgets most of the time

He tends to follow you around, especially at night when he insists on walking you to wherever you need to be. It’s sweet even though there's little that can really harm you in the human realm

You quickly realize that he’s the type to have nightmares, usually calling out for one of his brothers or his sister

It’s become habit to wake up and head to his room

Just being there seems to calm him down

The first time he wakes up when your doing this he ends up asking you to stay

Isn’t shy about sharing the bed either.

He’s easy going so goes along with whatever idea you have

Especially when he starts finding snacks in his bag, each one blessed for a good day or to stay full or whatever little thing you thought of that day

Belphegor

Humans can’t see angels. Not unless they want to be seen, you remind yourself for what must be the tenth time.

But you’re almost certain that guy is looking right at you.

Step to the left, his head follows

To the right, his eyes narrow looking at you like your some puzzle he just hasn’t figured out yet

…this was fine

You turn around pretending to just not see him in hope that he’ll get distracted by something else

...you glance back. Why was he still looking at you? What is with this creep?

Enough is enough.

You march over there ready to ask what his problem is. Instead he beats you to it.

Eh? You’re an angel right? He asks before you can say anything.

???? Shouldn’t he sound more shocked.

The guy just sleepily blinks. He doesn’t look like a sorcerer or a witch, in fact you can’t feel any magic from him at all.

You go to ask only to realize he’s sound asleep. It’s not like you could just leave him here. And at the same time a human who can just see angels is an oddity of itself.

You decide to hang around for a while. Belphegor doesn't mind. He only says something about it being "too troublesome to drive you off," and "you'd look like you'd just come back anyways"

Belphie sticks to you like glue, if glue was absolutely insufferable and seemed to enjoy annoying you at every possible moment

You would think this would be easy. I mean he sleeps all day and when he’s not sleeping he’s napping. Simple enough right? Wrong

When he was awake he was committed to pushing every single button you have

If it seemed like it might inconvenience or annoy you he was already doing it. Trying to smack your halo, pounce on you, or even jump off the roof just to see you scramble to catch him. He was like some terrible terrible cat

Luckily he was never energetic for long. When he wore himself out he’d retreat to the roof of his crappy one bedroom and wait for you to join him

He liked to look at the stars and he’d point them out to you. Orion, Polaris, Sirius, he would mutter, bringing you back to the days when Michael, who was once so fond of you, would sneak you down to the human world just to show you the stars and darkness the celestial realm could not offer

When he finally got tired you would take over reciting Celestial names and marking the sky with your finger just to show him where they’d be.

Those times were pleasant. Even if they were brief.

“I’m gonna jump.”

“Do it.”

“You’re an angel. Aren’t you supposed to stop me before I do something stupid?”

“You won't.”

“Aight. Bet.” Belphie pitches forward and you just manage to catch him by the leg before he falls off the roof.

Brat.

Always ruining a good moment.

You can’t even be mad. The moment you pull him up he’s already resting his fluffy head in your lap waiting for you to pet him.

He may be the most troublesome human in the entire three realms, but he’s your human

[tsukiida]

pining — bakugou katsuki

— info :: bakugou x gn!reader ; sfw ; slight angst & humour ; 3.13k words.

— contents :: quirkless reader ; bakugou’s pov ; one-sided attraction ; bakugou being bakugou ; well-meaning wingmen bakusquad.

— synopsis :: katsuki hates the way you make him feel.

— note :: this is my first time writing bnha, let alone bakugou, I hope I do it justice… if you read this, thank you, I hope you like it! :)

katsuki swears he hates you.

to be honest, he’d rather hate you, than feel like… this about you.

he’s convinced you’re messing with him. your quirk must make it so, because there’s no other reason why he feels his body heat up, his heart beat quicker somewhere deep in his chest, every time he thinks of you. you’re definitely doing it on purpose.

it’s that damned shopping trip to blame.

the girls had dragged everyone out to have some bonding time, which is the shittiest excuse katsuki has ever heard for splurging and buying pretty dessert that clogs up arteries. he’d have skipped out on it, but raccoon eyes begged kirishima, who in turn begged katsuki.

that’s another thing that pisses him off; remembering exactly how the other boy had convinced him. really, he couldn’t give less of a shit about something like romance, but of course the extras are going out of their mind about how popular they are with their preferred gender, and of course they had to drag him into it.

no, he doesn’t care at all, but it hurts his ego pride to entertain the idea that he might not be #1 at something even as petty as that.

hell, he doesn’t even care about being #1, as long as he’s doing better than deku.

but he’s not blind. cheeks is obsessed with the green haired idiot, her heart probably having a taste of her own quirk and shooting off into the universe fluttering madly every time she looks at him.

it’s like the world is out to get him, because not only did he have to accompany all the losers to their stupid trip, but he also had to, under duress, with that goal in mind? really? grade schoolers, the whole lot of them.

what he hates most about the whole thing is you, though.

and you’re doing exactly the things he hates.

ever since you stumbled across deku during that trip, tapped him on the shoulder and smiled at him, it’s like you punched katsuki in the gut. he can’t forget the way you’d looked so meek, but still somehow comfortable around deku, and he’d be damned if he doesn’t hate that.

and for the life of him, he can’t recall ever seeing you during his days in middle school. you claimed that you’d been classmates with deku – and by extension, katsuki – for an entire year, and deku sure seems to recognise you. but katsuki doesn’t. deku lights up like a stupid bulb, but katsuki does not.

he hadn’t needed to know details about any of the dumb extras that had infested middle school, more so any of them who didn’t already seem to know that he is the best. that must’ve been why he didn’t know you. there weren’t too many people who didn’t believe in his worth, but the ones who didn’t… they weren’t special enough for him to remember. they could never prove him wrong, after all. they were nothing.

but you.

he hates you. he strongly dislikes you. he can’t stand you.

and you seem to love that shitty deku.

no, it’s not the same kind of emotion that uraraka holds for him.

you absolutely adore that girl too, and she treats you nicely enough despite the wary look in her eyes initially, when she thought she was being subtle while hovering around deku.

no, katsuki hasn’t been observing. especially not because he’s interested. he is literally just looking out for himself, because he doesn’t want to be blindsided just because he wasn’t careful of some scheming pest.

the pest in question being you.

you’re already wreaking havoc on his mind, full of nothing but thoughts of you, other than being #1. he would never give up on that, no matter how much you make his heart pound and palms sweat.

you’re kinda helpful for his quirk, actually, and that’s the only reason he hasn’t already blasted you off into nothingness. the accelerated heart rate does wonders for him. but he doesn’t want to credit you either for something he could achieve with his own hard work.

he can definitely credit you for being the most annoying idiot that he knows, though. your quirk is painful, because late at night when he’s alone, he’s hit by images of your face. you hang out so much with his classmates now, he can’t help it. he can’t even sleep peacefully, because when he does fall asleep, his often dreamless nights are swapped out for stupid sequences produced by his subconscious involving you, because of your silly little quirk that you think katsuki is unaware of.

it gets worse.

he finds out you’re quirkless.

he storms up to you when he’s had enough. not only do you go to a school quite near theirs, but you also always have time to meet up, and isn’t that super convenient for whatever grand scheme you’ve concocted in order to try and take down bakugou katsuki.

it’s a half-growled and half-whispered, threat-filled one-sided conversation between him and you when he asks you to stop whatever you’re trying to do. you, being the infuriating person that you are, just tilt your head and stare at him in confusion. in the name of all might, that should not make his heart skip a beat, because he doesn’t have any intention of using his quirk right now. he just wants you to stop using yours. that’s all he’s there for.

but then you just shrug slightly, that damned nervous smile plastered on your face that you’ve barely been showing anymore, now that you’re comfortable with the extras. you shake your head when he asks you, as nicely as he can, to stop whatever messed up thing you like doing to him.

“this your way of trying to win against me? you can’t,” he grits through his teeth, fingers itching to create little explosions. he’s not going to show his off when asking you to call yours off. he won’t—

you tell him you have no idea what he’s talking about, because you’re as quirkless as they come.

with all the strength that he can muster within himself to not have an outburst, he asks you to repeat yourself.

you do. “i’m quirkless.”

in the end, he can’t help himself, and sets off a series of minute explosions that have you hopping back, out of his arm’s reach. as if he’d harm you with them, he thinks while glaring at you.

katsuki would like to say that he got over it quickly, but it takes a while, truthfully. at first he can’t wrap his mind around the fact that you’re quirkless, because then every thought of you that’s haunted him the past few months is without explanation.

you being quirkless literally opens up so many other questions. if you’re quirkless, then who’s to blame for everything happening to him? is it someone else at fault? are you just stupid and oblivious and unaware of your own quirk? did it manifest late? did someone grant it to you? there are so many questions, and things are still the same, if not worse. he barely thinks of anything else.

at least he can write it off in the name of being better at defending himself from stray quirks affecting him.

he hates it, but he asks kirishima, very subtly, if he’s heard of anyone whose quirk has the effects katsuki hates suffering from. the stupid redhead simply looks him dead in the eye and says that it sounds like the case of a bad crush quirk, something out of cheap romance novels which might be quite dangerous in practice, before proceeding to ask katsuki why he’s curious about it. bless his stupid soul, sometimes, because he completely buys the lie katsuki feeds him.

he didn’t want to have to convince kirishima that he doesn’t have a crush. because he doesn’t want to even entertain the idea of having a crush on stupid little you.

especially when you barely even give him the time of day anymore.

well, you’ve never really been the closest to him, nor does he want that, thank you very much! but it seems like the only time you and him ever had a proper conversation was when he asked you about your quirk, and that too ended badly, with barely any words exchanged. but at least you used to smile at him. not that he liked it or anything, but it was better than you giving him the cold shoulder.

are the extras actually more interesting to you than katsuki is? he’s a little miffed if that’s the case. but whenever he talks, you hear him, sometimes even respond to him, so perhaps it’s not a matter of ignoring him.

it’s just one thing you do.

you avoid his eyes.

it’s subtle enough that no one else notices, and the first few times he sees you look away when your eyes meet his, his breath catches in his throat and he’s almost too shocked to breathe in.

he knows that he’s not done anything to warrant that reaction from you. perhaps you’re simply realising after a long time that he’s the one you should be paying attention to, rather than all the extras. and perhaps it’s easier for you to pay attention to him with your ears rather than your eyes. he can understand that. your eyes seem to have that effect on him too; it’s entirely possible that this way is easier for you to focus on him.

maybe he makes you nervous.

there are so many maybes, but that thought still makes a grin tug at his lips, seeing which kirishima almost gets nervous. yeah, he’s getting cocky.

but that’s fine. he doesn’t plan on approaching you yet.

after all, if you’re into him, you should be brave enough to tell him.

…

honestly, it’s completely the electric eel’s fault. really, it’s 100% his fault because he thinks it’s fun to talk about stupid shit around katsuki. stupid shit like you possibly having a crush on deku, even though all signs say otherwise.

katsuki was willing to overlook that, but then raccoon eyes decided to encourage that hypothesis, and soon the idiots around him were talking in hushed whispers about deku’s supposed fanclub. such a situation definitely warranted katsuki blowing up their asses during training.

katsuki hates training with deku with a burning passion, but such a situation also warranted going up to him and demanding that he train with katsuki. if only he’d had enough mind to notice that the class was ending. if only he’d not run his mouth—

“they’ll never even look at you.”

deku doesn’t know shit about what katsuki just said, looking at him like he grew another head – which pisses him off even more – but kirishima and the rest of them know—

they know that katsuki is still hung up over that stupid conversation from days back, and they also know something’s up, and katsuki hates himself for being an idiot.

they corner him, as impossible as that sounds. katsuki would’ve blasted them off into outer space but they literally pile up onto him, clinging and refusing to let go of him even when he threatens to beat their ass again. curse sero’s tape.

katsuki would like to say that he fends them all off and throws them off his case. unfortunately, that does not happen. they find out a few things that day. thankfully, the only things they do find out are: you really get on katsuki’s nerves, and you also have a silly little crush on him.

“for real? are you sure?” ashido asks, eyebrows knit together like it’s something particularly unbelievable, and kaminari nods along uncertainly.

katsuki scoffs. “no other reason why they can’t look me in the eye.”

“i mean, you are kinda scary…” sero starts, but one glare from the scary person in question has him trailing off.

kirishima politely provides, “he’s manly!” and the conversation ends there.

…

oh, but the scheming doesn’t end.

kaminari is a bloody idiot, and encouraged by the equally idiotic sero, both of them come up with various scenarios wherein you and katsuki could stumble into each other, completely coincidentally, as if katsuki can’t hear them gossiping right behind him.

he ends up having to intervene when they get increasingly creative, which only means disaster in katsuki’s book.

“i’ll just wait.” he simply shrugs, watching the idiots get confused.

“fun to watch them squirm when they think they’re being subtle,” he offers further, and kirishima gives him a disapproving look, mumbling something about sadists.

“bakugou,” ashido stares at him critically, opening and shutting her mouth many times before eventually asking, “do you like them?”

after several more explosions, katsuki’s heart beating too fast in his chest, the sweat beading at his temples written off as part of his quirk, he’s able to dispel the idea from her mind.

he’ll never like someone like you.

and he’s still wary of you in the secret corner of his mind, not sure why he reacts the way he does to you. he’s not stupid, he knows what a crush is and how it works, but he really can’t see himself being attracted to you at all.

it has to be something someone concocted to get him weak, but they’re not going to succeed.

even if not having your eyes on him pisses him off more, making him feel irrational and prone to dangerous stunts and outbursts. even if not seeing you around much makes him feel like there’s not much to show off to. even if he really doesn’t feel like there’s anything worth showing off when he spies poor little you hanging around his classmates, quirkless and gentle.

gross.

…

katsuki hates being wrong.

katsuki hates knowing he’s wrong.

katsuki barely ever is wrong.

but when he is, he messes up completely.

if he were to possess the ability to correct one thing, he’d just lock up the idiots who call themselves his friends, and not let them near you.

they notice your little mannerisms too, of course they do when katsuki himself told them that you like him. they notice that you don’t meet his eyes and prefer staying away from him, but still respond to him whenever he talks. they notice that you don’t seem to fear him like some people do; almost as if you’re comfortable with him.

and they also notice things he wishes they didn’t notice, like the way his skin reddens imperceptibly when he sees you, and the way he makes an effort to not blast things up too much in your vicinity.

(it’s not really much use anymore, unfortunately.)

it’s definitely kaminari who is to blame; he always is for everything. katsuki doesn’t need any more reason to want to absolutely pummel him, because with the tape idiot’s encouragement, he bounces up to you one day and asks the dreaded question.

“what do you think of bakugou?” the blond asks, grinning from ear to ear as if he’s done something wonderful, but the way your eyebrow creases in confusion makes katsuki’s heart skip a beat. erratic. he doesn’t know what to make of the expression on your face. and no, he’s not waiting for your response, dammit. he’s 100% busy ignoring everyone. he can’t let you know all of his attention is on him, especially when you’re about to turn your head to look in his direction.

“he’s okay,” the words eventually leave your mouth, and he almost snorts. just okay? are you stupid, or just pretending to be? he knows your vocabulary is bigger than that.

“don’t you…” kaminari leans in dramatically, and katsuki has to strain his ears to hear—

“don’t you like him?”

well, hell. guess someone missed the tact memo.

that’s fine, though, katsuki’s okay with that. maybe letting you shyly avoid him isn’t the best course of action when you refuse to make a move.

you let out a non-committal noise, prompting another round of questions. the way you further get confused and respond with questions of your own makes something nag at the back of katsuki’s mind.

there’s something steadily sinking, and said sinking feeling grows the longer you talk to the electric idiot. by this point, katsuki has realised he’s missing something, but he’s still confident that it’s nothing he can’t overlook at this crucial moment when you spill the beans.

“my dear, sweet y/n, don’t you like bakugou?!” kaminari finally exclaims, possibly frustrated, and katsuki internally wheezes. he’s preoccupied with what you’ll say next, so laughing at the idiot’s expense takes a back seat.

he has to hand it to you; you’re really hard to crack, and it’s almost annoying. katsuki’s tempted to just burst his way over to you and demand a clear confession.

the answer isn’t something he’s expecting.

“not that he’s not, y’know, nice and all,” you babble, clearly stalling. you exhale at the same time as katsuki inhaling, and he holds his breath, waiting for the shoe to drop. really, maybe kaminari isn’t so bad if he can actually weasel the truth out of you with his stupid self.

“it’s just… he’s kind of scary. i try not to get in his way.”

kaminari seems just as stumped as katsuki feels in that moment.

“but… the way you act around him…”

well said, pikachu.

“oh.” that single word feels a bit like a gunshot. “oh, oh, i see. oh, no.” you need to stop saying ‘oh’ so many times, as if that changes anything.

“i’m sure he’s a good guy, but nope, i’m not interested in him romantically. i only act so awkward around him because that’s exactly how he makes me feel. i don’t even know him that well.”

can you stop twisting the knife?

“bakugou noticed,” kaminari mumbles, loud enough that katsuki hears. the words sound like they’re laced with pity. katsuki hates it, but what he hates more is how the idiot’s voice lowers to a whisper to say something to you that he really can’t hear from the distance.

katsuki also hates how your lips part and understanding dawns on your face.

he hates how your eyes meet his, head-on, because he completely forgot to look busy and has been gawking at you for the past few minutes. he hates how your eyes widen before a wary expression crosses your face.

katsuki hates the way you make him feel.

“is that what he’s passing it off as?” you ask, loud enough that he can hear. you’re not making an effort to lower your voice either.

kaminari does not respond to you, and you let out a short laugh, no doubt incredulous.

katsuki feels something within himself snap.

he leaves the room.

— note :: feedback is appreciated! :) I like this open ending because there’s a lot that can happen with it, let me know if anyone wants to see more of this! thanks for reading! :) ETA: if you’re interested in a continuation, you can read “honey”! :)

[softyoongiionly]

Portraits of a Tiger|| 01

Legends of a great and equally terrifying warrior nicknamed the Tiger have been emerging from your fellow villagers for quite sometime. Stories of his skill, his stealth and his supposed wickedness have been passed around to the point where he is more prophecy than person. You have lived your life with a strong sense of conviction, rarely letting gossip influence your opinion. However, you would be lying if you said that his legacy didn’t intrigue you. When the Tiger and his infamous army arrive in your village to refuel, you come face to face with the man behind the myth.

And no amount of marketplace gossip would ever be enough to capture the true complexity of his nature.

Pairing: Merchant! Reader x Warrior! Yoongi

Genre: Adventure, Romance, Smut (later), Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: language, depictions of violence both verbal and physical however they are fairly mild, mentions of war and power dynamics, there will be smut in future parts so, (18+ only please).

Current Tag List: @bulletproofbirdy​ @gldnrecs​ @naajix​ @bluewhale52​ @nikkikenji​ @lustedkisses​

A/N: oh okayyyyy HELLO!!! Its here!!! Warrior! Yoongi is finally emerging from the depths of my writer blocked brain and I am SO happy you get to meet him. Once again, this series will be posted in parts just as Mama Mia! is and it may not necessarily follow a linear timeline. 

Also, I know I mentioned her in the tag list post but, SERIOUSLY you guys this story would not be possible without my wonderful friend @bulletbroofbirdy aka Rachel who has literally spent so much time dreaming up with wonderful universe with me. My sweet angel, you are the greatest in the world and I love you. Please go follow Rachel and send her all the love in the universe and thank her for her genius brain because, without her, this fic wouldn’t exist. 

War.  

It’s not an uncommon occurrence where you’re from.  

The ever-present shifting of the borderlines is a constant reminder of the struggle for power.

Many see it as a valiant effort, a noble cause...

But, war is something that doesn’t appeal to you.

It doesn’t sit right with your perspective on the world.

Sure, you understand it’s strengths and why it could be seen as necessary.

However, the consequences of war, of violence- never seem to be worth it.  

Death.

It’s not an uncommon occurrence where you’re from.  

When war is constantly raging on the background, it should be expected.  

It should be normal.  

To most of your district, it is.  

To you?

Every single rise in the death toll sends icy despair into your heart.  

Every drop of blood spilled feels as though it’s your own.  

You’re desperate to find the solution for peace but, you know it’s not that simple.  

Man is never content.

The struggle for power is never ending.  

As you grow up, you learn to adapt.  

Learning a trade is the easiest way to establish yourself so, you take up knitting and medicine.  

You sell your wears and remedies in the market every other day and spend your off days replenishing the stock that you sold.  

Your parents live comfortably but in order for them to do so, you’re in the market for hours on end.  

Today starts as any other.  

You’re gathering your wears in your family’s home as the sun is beginning to peak over the mountains.

The colors it throws through your window are breathtaking and, if you weren’t so exhausted, you’d be able to enjoy them a bit more.  

Thankfully, your preparations don’t wake your parents as they sleep soundly in their bed.  

You wish for nothing more than for them to be at peace every chance they get.  

They have sacrificed so much.

The market displays its usual scenery.  

The fishermen are always first setting up their catches from the evening prior, the butchers are hanging up their kills from the overnight hunt whilst the farmers arrange seasonal produce on their carts...

You always have your cart near the end of the market.  

It’s easier for people to think about softer things such as knitted blankets or healing elixirs once they’ve purchased their food.  

Thankfully, business is decent.  

Your wares are well-made and your elixirs have an exceptional success rate.

The prices are fair so you attract all walks of life but, you focus more on serving the lower class folk such as yourself.  

One of the fisherman, who you’ve grown acquainted with over the last few months, nods to your cart as you’re setting it up.

“What do you have today __?”

With a smile, you hold up a mauve woolen blanket which you’ve spent nearly two weeks on.

“This is the item of the day. I used a root dye to get the color- what do you think?”

He purses his lips, nodding in consideration, “I’m sure someone will snag that right away. It looks warm. It will be very useful over the next few months. Do you have any of that uh- “ Lowering his voice, he cranes his neck to assess whether or not any of his team can hear him, “ginseng mixture that you sold to me last week?”

You bite back a smirk as you nod towards the woven basket containing your various medicines, “I do. I made a new batch last night. Did you need some?”

A rapid nod is sent your way along with a handful  of coins, “Thanks. It worked wonders last time. My wife sends her gratitude.”

Your cheeks heat up immediately but given that you’ve heard worse things in the market place, you merely giggle and file your payment away.

Ginseng is a natural stimulant that you often recommend to men experiencing issues with sex or fertility. Whilst you completely stand by its effectiveness, you won’t deny that it’s slightly awkward working with the men you’ve helped. Especially since they often insist on loudly announcing how many times they had sex the night before.

The rest of the setup goes smoothly and by the time the sun fully takes its place in the sky, you are ready for the market to open.  

As your adjusting the sign on the front of your cart, you hear an interesting bout of conversation ignite in front of you

“Did you hear? The Royal Army is arriving today to refuel.”

“You’re lying. Are you serious? Do they- do you think they have him with them?”

“Of course! They aren’t stupid enough to travel without him. They’d be ambushed immediately.”

“Yah, what are you talking about?”

“The Tiger. He’s coming through town today.”

Instantly, your heart stalls in your chest.

You try your best to appear unbothered but, it doesn’t stop the panic from seeping into your bones.

The Tiger and the fleet of warriors he oversees are well-known in your village.  

Word of mouth is truly a powerful mechanism for spreading information and, stories of The Tiger had been circulating for quite sometime.

They started out simply depicting a powerful new recruit into the Royal Army.

Despite his initial inexperience, The Tiger quickly rose through the ranks due to his otherworldly fighting skills.  

According to the rumors, The Tiger was known for his silent destruction.  

By the time his enemies could grasp what was happening, The Tiger and his men had already completed their mission.  

They had already killed, maimed or destroyed whatever they were after.  

A recent success had led to The Tiger becoming the General of the largest fleet in the Royal Army.

From what you had gathered, he wasn’t much older than you so the fact that he essentially lead an entire army is quite impressive.

However, given the stories of his cruel and cold blooded nature, it makes a lot of sense.

“I heard he beheads the enemy general on the battlefield after he wins...”

“I heard he killed 3,000 men all on his own in the middle of a thunderstorm!”

“I heard he keeps a viper on him at all times and he sets it loose on anyone he disobeys him!”

“I heard that he never sleeps.”

“Do you think he’ll come here? Would he be seen out in public like that?”

“Why wouldn’t he? He has nothing to fear, there isn’t a single soul in this village who could take him on.”

“Plus, he never travels alone. He’ll have his men with him.”  

With a snort, you continue displaying your cart as normal and, only then do you realize that you stand out amongst the other merchants.

Every single one of them has an offering for the warriors.

It’s not customary to do so and, you’re only viable guess is that it has something to do with the market fawning over this tiger character.

“Were we supposed to put something out?” You murmur to the woman beside you, brows knitting in confusion.

She chuckles heartily, “When a normal fleet enters, no. We usually just offer them food and the resources we can spare.” A bit of excitement flashes through her eyes as she adjust the basket of radishes on her cart, “However, this is no ordinary fleet. I suggest you put something out too dear, that pretty face of yours could land you husband on the Tiger’s army, any one of his men would be a worthy mate. They aren’t shooting blanks like my husband over here!”

Her body jostles with laughter as she shoves her hand up against the man beside her, who looks whole-heartedly unamused.

“Jane, please...” He grumbles

You can’t help the grimace that comes across your face when Jane mentions finding a husband but, it’s quickly replaced with a mixture of amusement and sympathy.

“I have something for that.” You offer in a hushed tone and, the man seems to unfurl from his submissive position as he offers a meek smile.

“You do?”

You don’t have time to answer him before the mood of the market shifts into quiet chaos.

“I think they’re coming!” The fisherman whispers frantically, adjusting the sign on his cart for the millionth time.

As much you hate to give in to the hype, you feel compelled to go with the flow and, put something out for the warriors.  

You settle on a basket of your most popular anti-inflammatory ailment that’s proven to be quite effective amongst your customers.  

The long strips of white wood are haphazardly placed into a woven basket as you brace your ears for the piercing sound of trumpets.

Magnificent as the musicians in your village are, the blaring cacophony of noise is far from something you wish to be apart of this early in the morning.  

However, the noise never comes.  

The gates open up as normal as a reasonable size crowd begins meandering throughout the market.  

You turn towards Jane with confusion painting your features, “Where’s the music?”

Jane is adjusting her radishes once again, glancing eagerly towards the crowd of people, “The Tiger does not allow fanfare of any kind. A far away village defied his orders once and played for him and his fleet anyway and- well...” She smirks bemusedly, “it didn’t end well for them, so we respect his wishes.”

Your eyes widen at that as you nod, swallowing back any fear that threatens to crawl up your throat.  

“Got it.”

The usual slew of customers begin filing in and as business begins to pick up, you slowly forget about the famous warriors that were to enter.  

Roughly, an hour later, your basket of willow bark remains untouched and, you begin to consider putting it back in its normal place. This particular bark is quite annoying to obtain and you don’t feel great about giving it away to some warrior after you’ve spent hours trying to procure it.  

However, as you glance at other offering baskets, you notice that some of them have been emptied.  

This means of course that either your fellow merchants put their offerings away or, the warriors are already in the market.  

A strange and unsettling feeling washes over you at the thought of deadly warriors perusing throughout town. You expected that they would be recognizable, especially given their reputation but, nothing seems to give away their presence.  

As a paying customer leaves your cart with an armful of various items, you notice something that normally doesn’t garner your attention: hair.  

You see it amongst the crowd, peeking over the tops of heads.

It’s a shimmering icy platinum and it’s tied up atop a strangers head with a beaded string. It moves throughout the crowd slowly, stopping at various points, likely exchanging words with another merchant before you finally make out the face it belongs to.  

A man dressed in cotton linens maneuvers out of the crowd, dark eyes scanning his surroundings almost anxiously. As he moves closer to you, you’re able to fully take in his features.  

Pointed and smooth, his face is the epitome of contradiction.  

Deep brown eyes, rounded button-nose, pouty lips and strong eyebrows adorn his face whilst his rather large hand flexes instinctually towards the object hanging off of his hips.

It’s a sword.  

This man certainly isn’t a civilian.  

Unfortunately, you’re unable to ignore the beauty he possesses. He is quite ethereal once you get a closer look at him; you don’t think you’ve ever seen another person that looks quite like him.  

As he speaks with the fisherman, your ears perk up to in an attempt to hear the sound of his voice.  

Faintly, you can discern a bit of rasp and calculation in his tone but, you aren’t able to absorb it over the sound of the market.  

Its then you realize that you’ve been staring at this stranger for far too long and, if you’re ever going to meet your quota today, you need to avoid distractions.  

You sell another one of your blanket moments later, increasing your daily total by a reasonable amount. Making blankets is enjoyable yes but, it’s extremely time consuming so it feels good when someone rewards you for your hard work.  

“Please have some radishes! They’re grown in top soil from the northern region! It gives them a certain uh- “ Jane’s shrill voice pulls your attention towards her cart which now brandishes a new visitor: the stranger with the blonde hair.

You're realizing that Jane is pausing mid-sentence because, she is desperately looking to you for answers.

You've assisted Jane with her produce before as she was having trouble with the flavor of some of her vegetables. This was mainly due to the fact that she had been using the wrong kind of fertilizer but, you had also given her several tips to improve the overall taste of her produce.

“A certain crunch...” You finish for her, stabilizing your tone as you brave a glance towards the man. “The mixture of the soils helps with the texture.”

His feline gaze rushes towards you at the sound of your voice, as if he wasn’t expecting you to speak.  

At the sight of you, his lips part momentarily before quickly sealing in a tight lipped smile which directs toward Jane.

“Thank you.” He nods toward her as he takes one of the radishes and tucks it into the pocket of his linen pants.

“Of course! Um thank you- sir for your...services...” She stutters and it’s then you notice that she hasn’t made eye contact throughout the entirety of their conversation.  

A bit of discomfort flashes through his eyes but otherwise, he merely grunts in acknowledgement.  

Jane’s comment is the last bit of confirmation you need that this man is indeed a warrior.

However, his reaction to her words strikes you as odd. Warriors rarely shy away from gratitude. They are often proud and boastful regarding their positions but, he seems to be bothered by what she said.  

The man never looks back at Jane as he makes his way to the next cart. Every so often, you notice him looking over his shoulder or glancing towards the entrances/exits of the market. His presence doesn’t necessarily make you uneasy but, his behavior sure does.

He acts as though he is in danger.

It puts you on edge but, you direct your attention back to the customer in front of you.

“Good morning.” You smile, “Anything catch your eye?”

The man cards a hand through his salt and pepper hair as he leans over your cart, eagerly scanning the items you have on display.

“Eh do you have anything for dry skin? With winter around the corner, I gotta start thinking about this old skin of mine. The wind does a lot of damage on my knuckles.”

“You know what? I think I have just the thing...” You bend down to access the crate beneath your counter and grab a medium sized glass bottle, “This is an olive oil and honey treatment, it will treat dry skin immediately but, it’s meant to treat dry skin over a longer period of time too. I also-” You bend down once more to grab a tin of cocoa butter and place it on the counter top, “have this. This should help with daily wear and tear. You only need a little bit so this tin should last you through the winter.”

The man smiles eagerly and quickly reaches for his pockets before he freezes. You don’t notice until you look up from your counter but, the platinum haired warrior is back and, he’s standing right behind your customer.

“O-Oh go ahead, go ahead. I uh- I'll go next...” The man stutters, gesturing frantically to your cart.

With a quirked brow the warrior moves to step in front of him until you raise your hand.

“No sir, it’s ok. You’re in the middle of a transaction.” You insist, eyeing the warrior sternly,  “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

The immediate crowd surrounding your cart seems to pause, nervously glancing towards the warrior who merely nods and steps back into place.  

The shock is apparent on the faces of the crowd but you ignore it and send a reassuring smile towards your customer, “Ok, that will be 11.50 and-” You slide a bundle of rosemary towards him, “take this too, on the house. Brew it in some hot water to aid digestion, winter food tends to be a bit harsher on the system.”

The man swallows nervously, dragging his items toward his chest, “Thank you—uh so much. Thank you.” He turns towards the warrior, directing his gaze towards his feet as he bows his head, “Thank you for your service...”

The man doesn’t allow the warrior time to respond before he rushes off back into the crowd but, you get the feeling that it wouldn’t matter regardless.  

The warrior doesn’t seem interested in anyone’s gratitude.  

“Let me know if you have any questions.” You nod your head towards him, pushing the basket with your offering towards the edge of the counter before busying yourself with putting a few things back in their place.

He says nothing but, he approaches the counter whilst his eyes shrewdly observe the ins and outs of your set up.

He’s even more striking up close. His smooth, tan skin is mostly unmarked except for the giant scar running down the center of his right eye. It goes up the center of his eyelid and disappears right above the center of his brow. It’s still red and angrily risen against his otherwise angelic looking face.  

A warrior indeed.

The bit of people around your cart haven’t stopped their staring but, they are at least making an attempt to look like they aren’t paying attention. It doesn’t stop you from wishing that you didn’t have an audience.  

“Tree bark?” He questions with an arch to his brow

You look towards the basket he’s gesturing to before returning your gaze back to his.

“White willow bark.” You correct, almost defensively and it cause his lips to twitch.

“Is this some kind of decoration?”

You shake your head, placing your fingers on the edge of the basket, “No. It’s meant to be chewed. It reduces inflammation. I figured it would be useful since I imagine you deal with muscle soreness quite often.”

He smirks, “Amongst other things yes,” With long elegant fingers, he points to the basket, “So- if I chew on this, I should feel relief from any pain I might be experiencing?”

An all too rapid nod comes from you as you continue your explanation, “Well it’s mainly used to treat pain in your muscles and joints. If you’re looking to treat other types of pain, I have other options...”

He shakes his head, his hair swishing to the side as he does, “This should do, thank you.”  

You suspect that he’s done, given that the bark is (annoyingly) free and he’s only seemed to be interested in the offerings thus far so, he surprises you when he asks yet another question.

“Do you have any more of that salve?”

“Of course,” You offer him a smile now that the initial tension is starting to lift, “Did you want a big tin or small tin?”

He purses his lips in thought, looking towards his hands, “What do you recommend?”

Without a second thought, you step towards him and take one of his hands, bringing it closer to your face for inspection.  

The man seems to freeze in place, eyes widening in absolute shock, his own limb betraying him as it goes limp.

His hand displays evidence of the life he lives.  

Rough, calloused and blistered...

His nails are bitten down to a point that almost looks painful but, the thing that stands out the most is how beautiful his hand is to you.  

The strength in his skin is palpable and the indigo veins protruding against his hand are a firm reminder of what he is likely capable of.  

What you don’t notice however, is the utter panic that flushes across his face or the way his eyes dart nervously between you and his hand.

Just as you would during any consultation, you briefly run your fingers over the palm of his hand and up the length of each of his fingers

“Hmm I would recommend the big tin, I think...you have a lot of rough spots but the skin between your callouses is quite smooth so,”  You carefully set his hand back onto the counter and return your eyes back to his, “what that tells me is that your skin is roughened by your environment rather than by an actual lack of moisture.” You slide the big tin towards him, “Apply this to the dryer areas as needed throughout the day but, every night before you go to bed, make sure to put this on. Sleeping with it will allow it to seep into your skin and heal the dryness over time.”  

The warrior’s eyes are transfixed on you and for a moment he is completely speechless, his hand lingering on the counter before hurriedly places them back at his side.  

He can’t understand you and why you just touched him.  

But what’s worse, is he can’t understand why his mouth is suddenly dry.

Or why his skin is on fire...

Or why his heart is thrashing around in his chest.

He clears his throat and nods, “Very good. I’ll be sure to follow your instructions.” He sticks the hand you didn’t touch into his pocket, fishing around for something, “What’s my total?”

“That will be 3.50.” You say with a smile, holding out your hand.

He dispenses his payment into your palm before stowing his items away in his free pocket.

“Thank you.” He grunts, the hand you touched still kind of awkwardly lingering away from his body.

Was he going to wash it as soon as he got the chance?

Did you smell weird?

“Of course, have a nice day. Safe travels.” With a wave, you send him off, missing the small smile that momentarily appears on his face.

You’re genuinely relieved that the encounter is over but, you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t intrigue you.

Before you’re able to get your bearings and move on, Jane is rushing over to you frantically.

“What on Earth was that??? Do you know him??? Why didn’t you tell me you knew him?!” She swats your arm, her eyes wide with incredulity.

“Ow!” You grip your arm, “What are you talking about?”

The man has already disappeared back into the crowd but, you’re still attempting to keep your voice at a reasonable level.

Jane does not follow suit.

“You just put your hands on the Tiger!” Jane shrieks causing you to recoil in response, “He could kill you for that! What were you thinking?”

“He’s going to kill me because I touched his hand?” Your brow arches in amusement, as your lips threaten to smile, “I had no idea who he was Jane, I was just helping a paying customer.”

She doesn’t like your answer and quickly swats your arm again, “Y/N this is not a joke! He’s a dangerous man. I nearly fainted when you looked him in his eyes but, then you touched him and-”

“Jane, that’s enough.” The fisherman hisses, gesturing wildly to the crowd of people, “You’re making a scene and he’s still out here somewhere.”

She huffs her hands rushing to smooth out the apron over her dress before rushing a finger into your face, “You won’t be laughing if he shows up at your house with a sword in your face. You need to be careful.”

You smirk at this but otherwise comply, not wishing to fire her up any further, “Thank you for your concern Jane, I’ll make sure to carry my sword around too, you know, just in case.”  

Jane snorts then and rolls her eyes, scurrying back to her cart and mumbling something along the lines of:

“That mouth is going to get you killed...”

You can’t help but giggle.

There’s no doubt that the man you just spoke to was a warrior and, maybe he was some almighty warrior but he other than an intense staring problem, he didn’t scare you at all.

Thankfully, business is booming for the remainder of the day and although you’re thrilled at the money you’ll be taking home, you aren’t looking forward to all the replenishing you have to do.  

The last order of business before heading home is picking a few things for your parents and grabbing the last of the steamed buns for your best friend.

Rachel has lived beside you ever since you can remember. The two of you spent most of your childhood running around the village, causing mini bouts of chaos everywhere you went. Despite the challenges life had brought the both of you, you grew together rather than apart.  

Rachel is the village’s most treasured teacher and she’s been running the school for the past few years. She’s kind of the best and, you have a feeling she’ll be interested to hear about the rather interesting events that had transpired over the course of your day.  

As you turn down the dirt path towards her home, you start to wonder where the Tiger and his fleet would be staying.  

Your village wasn’t run-down but it wasn’t exactly luxurious by any standards.

The rubble near the beginning of the street along with the various empty wooden barrels doesn’t exactly count as décor and, the occasional drunken argument outside the village’s tavern certainly doesn’t add any class to the area but, its home.  

Rachel's house is easy to spot amongst the rest of the street as it’s the only one completely covered in plants.

She’s had a love of greenery for quite sometime and, it’s amongst the many things you two bond over.  

Adjusting the bag on your shoulder, you immediately reach for the handle and use all your weight to shove the front door open.  

Rachel is sitting on her sofa and despite the fact that she was expecting you, she still jumps at the sound.

“Oh my goodness!” She exclaims “Have you ever heard of knocking???”

You giggle but otherwise ignore her and lean against the door dramatically, “Rachel, you better get one last look at me because, this might be the last time you ever see me.”

She laughs lightly and folds her arms, “What did you do this time? Did you call the apothecary a fraud again?” Wiggling her fingers, she reaches out for the snacks your holding.

“Ok first of all, he is a fraud but no....it’s much much worse.” You shove the snacks into her awaiting hands before flopping down on the armchair, “I touched a man’s hand...”

She freezes, the bun lingering near her mouth, “Alright, now I am officially curious, why is hand touching worse?”

You smirk, “I touched...the Tiger’s hand” You point a finger at her quickly as her lips part, “Before you even make the joke, no it wasn’t a real tiger...it was THE tiger.”

Rachel snorts with laughter before going wide-eyed in shock, “You...wha--the Tiger? THE Tiger??? You TOUCHED the Tiger?!!?!? What were you thinking?!? Oh my god, did he bite? Wait, focus, Rachel---Why did you touch the Tiger?!?”  

Whilst she’s rambling on you burst out in a fit of giggles, snuggling back against the chair, “He came to my cart looking for a good salve for his hands. All I did was do an assessment as I normally do to see what he needed. I don’t understand why everyone is freaking out...he seemed pretty harmless to me.”

She leans forward on the couch, “Harmless? He seemed...harmless?!?” She whispers frantically, “He has personally slain hundreds of men with those very hands!!!  

“Why are we whispering?...”

Rachel returns to normal volume, rolling her eyes “Fine. More like thousands if you count how many his army has obliterated. And you just pawed at him--are you insane? He has killed people for less! At least that’s what the rumors say.”  

You keep giggling, completely unfazed as you make yourself at home, “The rumors also say that he killed an entire village because they played their trumpets for him. I don’t know how credible these rumors are.”

“Well....what was he like then? You cannot drop this information on me and not give me every detail.” She insists, gesturing wildly at you before leaning back and sipping from her mug.

“Uh he was fine. I mean- he was normal I guess, I don’t know. He has really long hair, its blonde- like really blonde. He looks young, way younger than I thought he’d be. He has a big scar over his eye. Jane was practically drooling over him...”

Realization crosses Rachel’s face as she watches you intently. She relaxes back into her chair as a knowing smile spreads across her face, “Ohhhh young, blonde, mysterious...Jane must really HAVE been drooling. Seems like she’s not the only one, though...”

“I mean- the fisherman guys were pretty excited too I guess. I don’t know what the big deal is honestly, I know he’s supposed to be good on the battlefield but they were treating him like he was some kind of king or something.” You narrow your eyes “Are you suggesting I was drooling over him? Because I definitely wasn’t...I even told him to wait his turn in line.” You insist, shifting around on the chair.

Rachel crosses her legs dramatically, steeping her fingers as she observes you, “Was that before or after you found out he was handsome? Hmm?” She smirks again, holding her hands up innocently, “I am implying nothing, I am just NOTICING that you are definitely affected by him. I haven’t seen you impressed by....well, anyone.”

She’s not wrong.

“Hey hey whoa...who said anything about impressed?? I’m not impressed. I’m not impressed at all.”

Rachel eyes you suspiciously”...right...not impressed at all. Well, did you at least hear anything about them? Any word on how long the army will be here? We’ve got to be the safest village in the country as long as they are in town.” Suddenly, she facepalms in realization, “My students will be so distracted as long as they are here.”

“Not impressed. He’s just a man with a scar and sword...” You insist, twiddling your thumbs “I guess they are just refueling, I’m not sure how long they will be here. Jane told me I need to watch my back so, hopefully not for long...” You giggle again, thinking of how excited the schoolchildren will be now that the legendary Tiger is in town, “maybe you can make an assignment out of it...”

She stares off into space for a moment and mutters, “that’s not a bad idea...we could get outside, maybe a soldier could come speak to them? There’s got to be at least one that’s not terrifying?...” Rachel shakes her head, unimpressed with your lack of understanding, “Just a man with a scar and sword—he is the most feared military leader of our generation! And I wouldn’t worry TOO much about watching your back. After all—none of the legends involve the Tiger killing civilians, do they? At the very least his presence here means good business for the village. If you can get the Tiger as a repeat customer I can only imagine the profits you’ll turn at that little stall!” She muses, laugh heartily, “Buy the salve that soothed a beast! I can hear the gossip already...”

You point a finger at her, “I like the way you think. If you ever want to stop educating and enriching the minds of our youth and be my business partner, let me know...” Suddenly the humor within you dissipates as the reality of your situation seems to sink in, “You don’t think I should be worried though right?”

Rachel lets out a short laugh, “Thanks for the offer...” She shakes her head, “As far as this Tiger business is concerned...I don’t think your safety is under any threat. How did he react when you touched him? Did he seem angry?”

“He just froze...” You recall, your eyes unfocusing slightly, “It was kind of weird honestly. I’ve never had anyone do that before. It’s pretty normal to get checked out during an apothecary visit. I guess I wasn’t supposed to look at him either but, how the hell am I supposed to do an exam if I can’t look at his face?”

“Hmmm...that is strange. I’ll be honest, I thought he would have scolded you or pulled away based on the stories. Unless...” Rachel slumps back against her sofa, her face relaxing into a smirk, “...he was just as surprised by you as you were of him.”

You wrinkle your nose, “Ew no. Definitely not.”  

Rachel doesn’t look convinced but you continue nevertheless, suddenly wishing to change the subject.

“He looked nervous I guess- I don’t know. His hand just sort of hung there after I finished. Today was weird...anywayyy-” You nod to the dough between your palms, “How are the buns? Did anything interesting happen in the education world.”

“Oh three boys got in a worm eating contest and threw up on their practice parchment so I could go without that kind of interesting for awhile. The buns are transcendent as usual but you-” She narrows her eyes in your direction, “- are dodging. Why would a general be nervous around you hmm? You said he is young...is he also handsome?”

“Ah god I love kids...” You note with a giggle before shrugging, shrinking back into the chair, “I don’t know. Objectively he- he definitely wasn’t ugly.”

Rachel raises an eyebrow, “I sense there is more to it than that.”

“Fine. He was easily the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life. There! Are you happy now?” You grumble before dramatically staring off into the distance, “Oh to be murdered by the most handsome man alive...how romantic.”

This prompts a twinkling bout of laughter from Rachel who has finally finished the first of her many snacks, “I can think of worse ends my friend. Perhaps that was your only interaction? I am sure he is busy making preparations; too busy to be executing smart-mouthed apothecaries. I wouldn’t fret too much Y/N.”

With you sigh, you accept her analysis, sending a nod her way, “You’re probably right and, that’s probably for the best.” Despite the conviction in your tone, you can feel the disappointment on your face, “Thank you for calling my mouth smart.” You smirk before nodding toward the door, “I should probably head home. My father has a nasty cough and I seriously doubt he’s taken the medicine I left for him.”

Meeting you at the door, Rachel pulls you in for a big hug, “The smartest mouth in town- that's why I keep you around. Give your father my love and tell him, if he gives you a hard time—I will find out!”

You laugh, hugging her tightly, ���The second smartest mouth in town...” You insist, “let’s do the tavern this weekend please. The children have been taking all your time and I miss my best friend!”

“Of course! No pack of tiny ruffians can get between me and a night out.”

You pat her shoulder gently before stepping out of the doorframe, “That’s right.” You smile, thankful to have someone like her in your life, “love you, have a good night.”

“Good night, sleep tight...” She sings, slowly closing the door, “don’t let the Tiger bite!” She laughs wildly before slamming the door shut to prevent your retaliation.

She’s a menace.

The walk back home is pleasant, the fall breeze nips at your skin through your sweater but, it feels refreshing against your flushed cheeks.  

Your parents are asleep by the time you return home.  

It’s common for you to arrive well past their bedtime but, despite your lack of contact, they still manage to make you feel loved.

On the kitchen table sits bowl of stew and freshly baked bread, along with a new blanket for the winter.  

Your mom makes a fresh one everywhere with thicker fabric to combat the icy freeze of the winter climate. The stew will be cold but, your heart will be warm and your stomach will be full.  

In truth, these are the only things that matter to you.  

Living simple certainly has it’s drawbacks but overall, you are comforted by it. Your parents raised you to be thankful for the things you have and to only set your sights on obtaining things that truly matter to you. It doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t have goals but, your parents have always stressed that external success can be fickle and, material possessions only take you so far.  

Being content is truly priceless and, you’re thankful they instilled these values into you.

Climbing into bed, you allow your mind to wander to the man you met today.  

You couldn’t quite understand the legend behind him. Not to say that he wasn’t worthy of such folklore but, it’s more so that you didn’t exactly understand the warnings behind it.  

He didn’t seem scary.

Although, it’s possible his demeanor is something he uses along with his beauty.

It could be that the Tiger lives up his animal comparison.

Beautiful and deadly.

Village gossip shouldn’t keep you awake longer than necessary, you think, it’s time to rest up so that tomorrow’s work day doesn’t feel like a never-ending task.  

With the sound of the whistling wind just outside your home, you slowly close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

Your plan for a peaceful nights rest is completely demolished when you feel the frantic hands of your mother shaking you awake.

“Y/N! Wake up! Wake up! Raiders- they are raiders outside, hurry!” She drags the covers off of you, “We have to go!”

In a haphazard blur, you spring to your feet and arm yourself with a few important possessions and your sword.  

Your parents tow behind you as you make your way out of your home.  

The village is in utter chaos; shouting, clanking metal, screaming, amber flames peaking out from above the rooftops.  

You grab your mothers arm, keeping her close to you as you try your best to follow procedures.

Like most smaller villages, your area is equipped with a protocol that will ensure the least amount of damage if there were to be an invasion.

Collect the essentials and gather your loved ones

Arm yourself

Make your way to the town square; there is strength in numbers.

Allow the raiders to take what they want (with the exception of human lives)

Negotiate

Simple in theory but, rarely in practice.

It’s difficult to keep up with a protocol during times of intense stress.

Amidst the chaos, you see Rachel scrambling out of her house, with a bag slung over her shoulder.

You cry out for her, desperately hoping she will hear your voice over the madness,

“Rachel! Over here!”

With wide eyes, she reaches out for your mother’s hand, bowing her head to shield from any possible debris.  

“The army is here, they will protect us.” Your father murmurs solemnly beside you, his face stoic and rid of any bit of positivity

This could end very badly.  

The four of you rush into the town square, trying your best to remain calm throughout the screaming, back up against a wall. Your grip tightens on your mothers hand as you spot the tents of the armed guests currently residing in your village.

The raiders continue their plundering throughout the town accompanied by the sounds of glass breaking and shouting.  

Suddenly, there is a different sound: the clanking of swords. Briefly, you can see glimpses of armor peeking out of homes, the sight causing your eyes to widen.

“Look!”

Rachel and your parents crane their necks to see what you’re pointing out as the sounds coming from within your village begin to change.

Grunting, groaning, more clanking swords and a bit of shouting shoot out of the main street like fireworks.

“Clear the path!” An unfamiliar voice shouts and it’s then you can see what’s going on.

The raiders have been captured thanks to the ominous group of tourists that arrived yesterday.

Oddly enough, you don’t even remember seeing them leave their tents and it makes you wonder how the hell they managed to move so quickly undetected.  

There are several men, dressed in black and gold armor, dragging the raiders by their shirts to the center of town square. One of them is a tall, doe eyed looking man with shaggy brown hair and biceps that could likely snap a neck if they so desired. He has his sword to the back of one of the raiders who scuffles along on his knees to meet with the rest of his captured teammates.  

As the rest of the soldiers file in, another leader of the troop, tall and equally broad, gestures to Bambi with the biceps.

“Jungkook-ah! Bring the leader to the center; let our general deal with him.”

Jungkook does just that, quickly the toe of his boot into the back of the raider and jerking his head to the center of the plaza, “You heard him- move.” He grunts and the raider reluctantly shuffles forward.

Your fellow villagers are reasonably alarmed but, they all seem to freeze in place as they watch the show unravel before them.

This is already more excitement than your village has had in ages and, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t eating it up.

The man who has now been identified as Jungkook, steps away from the raider, still pointing his sword at him, a smug smirk on his face, “You know for a master thief, you were far too easy to catch. Lucky for me, I made a bet with my brothers here that I would catch you in 10 minutes,” Jungkook walks back towards the man, entangling his fingers in the roots of his hair before tugging backwards, “, and according to the clock tower, it only took me 8.”  

Beside you, Rachel seems to swallow back her surprise before subconsciously starting to fan her face,  

“Goodness, he really is something huh?”

Despite the tense nature of the situation, her demeanor makes you giggle,  

“Stop drooling over the calvary...”

She smacks you playfully which causes your father to shush both of you, a moment which reminds you of your schoolyard days.

A bit of immaturity is actually refreshing after the events of this morning.

“Jungkook-ssi,” A voice bellows throughout the plaza, sending a chill down your spine, “What have I told you about placing bets on our captors huh?”

As the voice grows louder, you see him: the Tiger, stepping out from the main street, his long platinum hair flowing freely in the wind. His hand brandishes a sword, one that most certainly possesses the ability to inflict some serious harm.  

Sheepishly, Jungkook smirks, releasing the man’s hair roughly and stepping back to his original spot, his sword posing to strike.

“Sorry hyung, this one was just too easy. I saw him skirting the perimeter last night, I know it would be a sure win once I saw his technique.”

So that’s how the army was able to move so quickly; they already anticipated this attack.

The Tiger chuckles darkly, his eyes alight with pure delight, “Aish- what am I going to do with you people hm?”  

He moves like his name; slow, deliberate, deadly- you know that you’re about to witness an execution and you aren’t sure if you can stomach the sight, even if these raiders deserve it.

Its your turn to swallow back your reaction to him which doesn’t go unnoticed by your best friend standing beside you.

“Now look who’s drooling...” She teases, giggling as you playfully shove your elbow into her side.

The crowd is dangerously still, hanging on each syllable the Tiger speaks whilst his men, six other soldiers roughly his size, watch intently.

The rest of the raider clan are being held captive by the remainder of the fleet, bowing their heads in shame and fear but, the leader seems unaffected by their defeat.

“You lot aren’t men.” The man spits, his accent thick,  “you’re narcissistic little boys who like to play dress up. You’re cowards, hiding behind your swords, killing everything that stands in your way. You have no idea how the other half live. You have no honor.”

There are gasps throughout the crowd then as your village grows shocked at the way he’s spoken to the Tiger.

If you had any hope that this wouldn’t end violently, it’s been squashed by the time the leader finishes his sentence.

The Tiger however, merely chuckles again, a light smirk on his carnation lips,

“It’s odd that a man who earns his keep by stealing from others would have the authority to lecture my men and I about honor.” He kisses his teeth and slowly raises his sword to brush against the man’s cheek, “Look at all these poor people hm? You've terrified them. Your lack of intelligence isn’t their burden to bear now is it? But you have made it their problem; ripped them from their homes, terrorized their children, their livelihoods and, all because you’re too incompetent to learn your own trade.”

The Tiger’s words infuriate him and the next thing you know, he’s lunging off the ground towards the Tiger, a snarl arising on his mouth.

It prompts your hands to fly to your face and your feet to nearly trip over themselves as you brace for the inevitable fight.

But it doesn’t come.  

With one swoop of his arm, the Tiger has the leader knocked to the floor and underneath his leather boot. Jungkook has reacted quickly as well, his arm raising in the air to slice his sword through the man’s body. With one twitch of his hand however, the Tiger stops Jungkook from following through,

“See? You can’t do things like that my friend. Because if you do, my big friend here with the sword will slice your greasy head in two.” The Tiger smirks again, before turning his head over his shoulder, “You folks wouldn’t want to spend the day cleaning blood of your beautiful plaza now would you?”

Overexcited villagers quickly shout various commentary at him,

“Kill him!”

“Cut his head off!”

“Make him pay!”

The Tiger chuckles once more, raising his brows as the man struggles beneath his boot, “Well, I guess you’re lucky they aren’t in charge of your punishment...” He looks up towards the remainder of his fleet, nodding his head at the other prisoners, “Namjoon, Jin: ensure that none of these men are here against their will. If the rest of you are here by choice, I suggest you make yourselves disappear into the forest before I allow these fine people to get ahold of you.”

Immediately, the Tiger’s fleet begin following his orders and take the men away towards their tents. As they walk out of the plaza, only Jungkook, the Tiger and the clan leader remain.  

You notice Jungkook scan the crowd then, peering out at the eager faces watching the show he is willingly apart of. Very briefly but noticeably, his eyes land on your best friend and as they do, they seem to linger.

He looks curious, almost boyish in a way as his ways seem to memorize her face but before Rachel even realizes what’s going on, his eyes quickly return to the raider.  

“If you’re going to kill me, just do it. Don’t be a coward, I can’t listen to you ramble any longer.” The man growls which prompts the Tiger to push his foot down a little harder upon his back.

“I’m not your executioner, thief. Your fate resides with the Queens.” He explains, matter of factly before jerking his head towards Jungkook, “Put him in the portable cell. I’ll send a notice to the council that we have a criminal that needs to be dealt with.”

Jungkook nods, eagerly crossing the bit of plaza and kneeling down to restrain the man with handcuffs.

He grips the chain linking them and heaves him upwards so he’s standing between the two men.  

“I’ll hose him off first,” Jungkook wrinkles his nose in disgust, “I don’t want him stinking up our camp.”

“Fuck you-” The man spits, jerking his wrists in Jungkook’s grip which then causes the Tiger to raise his sword once again.

“Behave yourself, thief.” He commands, his eyes darkening for the first time, “I’m assuming if you’ve heard stories of my fleet, you are privy to the fact that we don’t miss our target. Please don’t give me a reason to live up to my name.”

With that, the two men drag off the clan leader towards the rest of their fleet, not bothering to look back at the dozens of people they just saved.

They ignore the applause, the gratitude, the pleas for them to return and feast.

You have to admit that you’re shocked.  

The supposedly wicked and ruthless Tiger sure seems to have quite a bit of restraint and diplomacy.

“Did he- did he really just let him go? Unharmed?”

Rachel asks a very good question and it seems to be the one on your parents minds as well.

“It’s extremely odd. I was fully prepared to witness an execution, he would have been within his right.” Your father notes, his eyes still trained on the center of the plaza.

Generals have a certain level of freedom with the prisoners they choose to capture; they are expected to have good judgement and carry out punishments if necessary.

In essence, the Tiger had every bit of authority to end that mans life and, given that he an eager crowd behind him, it genuinely perplexes you.

“Organized raids come with an automatic life sentence, the leaders are usually executed within a few days of their trial.” Your mother notes and it’s then that Rachel notices your silence.

“Well I think it’s safe to say that you didn’t make it on his hit list. You can’t be worse than a lead raider...” She grins, knowing full well that your confusion also comes with an annoying amount of curiosity.  

She also knows that you plan on finding a way to speak with him again.  

And she is absolutely right.

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

“Should I say hi to Jungkook for you? Ask if he’s betrothed?” You tease and Rachel promptly throws balled up dress your way.

You went to her house after the excitement in the town square to bake a batch of fresh bread for the Tiger’s fleet.

Bread is increasingly hard to come by these days due to a crop shortage in the northern region so despite what people may think, most military diets consist of salted meat and corn.  

Doughy, fluffy, cheesy, rosemary bread is a luxury.

“I have a feeling you’ll be preoccupied with your mission to court the Tiger.” She retorts but a deep frown comes over her then, as she wraps the last loaf in parchment paper, “Are you sure you should be doing this? Waltzing over to a tent full of dangerous soldiers doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

“I want to thank them.” You insist, loading your basket with the rest of the loaves, glancing up at your worried friend, “All the village ever talks about is how ruthless they are, how cruel they are known to be but, the reality is: they saved us. It must be frustrating to refuel just as any other fleet would and have people gossip about you or fear you unnecessarily. I’m not planning on staying for tea or anything, I just want to show my appreciation.”

Rachel raises her brows, “That’s all hm?”

You nod, “Yep.” Your lips pop with the sound of the p and Rachel remains unconvinced.

“This has nothing to do with the Tiger?”

“Of course not.” Your answer tumbles past your lips far too quickly and, it causes your friend to grin knowingly at you.

“I know that look-”

“Ugh what look?”

“The look. That one-” She points at you, “You’re about to do something you know you shouldn’t.”

Her smile is far too contagious and her knowledge of you surpasses anyone you’ve ever known in your life.  

She has your number and there really is no point in lying to her.

“Fine, ok maybe it has a little something to do with the Tiger-” You smirk, trying to stifle the giggle that threatens your disposition, “Don’t laugh at me!”

Rachel’s twinkling laughter fills the room as she rounds the counter. Placing her hands on your shoulders, she smiles fondly at you, “Just be careful ok? I know he intrigues you and honestly I’m not at all surprised but, don’t let your curiosity get in the way of your safety. That’s the most important thing.”  

“I won’t.” You promise, smiling back at her, placing your hands on hers, “I promise, I’ll be careful.”

Rachel helps you out once again, insuring you have everything you need before her soft voice is answering a question you asked moments earlier.

“And uh about that Jungkook boy-”

You smirk, “He’s definitely not a boy, did you see his muscles? He looks like he could bench press a mountain lion.”

She grows flustered, “No, I didn’t see any muscles, I have no idea what you’re talking about-”

“Oh so you also didn’t notice him staring at you in the plaza today right?”

Rachel’s eyes widen, “Wait he was?” She clears her throat, amending her eagerness as you giggle, “He definitely wasn’t staring at me don’t be ridiculous. What I was going to say-”

“What you were going to say is that ‘no Y/N, I don’t want you to check on Jungkook’s marital status directly but, should you happen to come across his left hand, let me know whether or not you see a shiny band around his finger, not that I would care or anything. Because, I totally don’t have the hots for him.’ “

Her mouth opens and then closes like a fish before she playfully nudges you through her doorway, “Shut up.”

With a laugh and a few parting words, you are off to visit the tent of your village's heroes.  

You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous.

But you’d also be lying if you said you were nervous for the right reasons.

The concept of walking into the basecamp of a supposedly elite and ruthless fleet is one thing but, talking to someone you find attractive?  

Absolutely terrifying.

Your presence is immediately noted by the men inside the camp.

Two of them are seated at a table outside of one of the tents, hands and teeth full of meat, their motions freezing in place as they see you.

As you pass by one of their horses, you notice of them is speaking with a group of raiders.  

The conversation seems amicable, suggesting that many of the raider clan was indeed in your village against their will.

You approach the main but, before you are able to make ring the bell on the outside, you are crashing chest first into a very firm and very broad chest.

“Holy-” The voice sounds familiar and as you look up, you are meet with the bambi with biceps himself: Jungkook.

“Hello I-” You attempt to begin but his panicked voice interrupts you.

“Yah hyung??? Uh there’s a-” He swallows thickly stepping away from you, “There’s a girl here!”

The word seems foreign on his tongue and his behavior genuinely surprises you.

Where was the cocky warrior from this morning, brandishing a sword and placing bets on his captors?

“Jungkook, for the last time- we don’t use that word. We say young lady or woman...” Another voice, one you don’t recognize fades into your scope of hearing before pushing open the fabric of the tent. He is arguably just as beautiful as the other men, tall, dark haired, buff- as if he would be anything else.

“Oh, hello. Are you...” The man narrows his brows as he looks towards the group of raiders speaking with one of his counterparts, “Are you with the group or?”

You shake your head, your basket swinging when you turn back towards the village, “Oh no, no I’m from the village. My name is Y/N Y/L/N...” You bow your head slightly, “I came here to bring you this,” You gesture to the basket, “It’s fresh bread. I wanted to thank you for saving my people today.”

You feel the need to rush out your explanation as the rest of the fleet continues to stare at you. In fact, the way they are looking at you is rather unnerving.

It isn’t disrespectful just intrusive; they are looking at you as if you’ve sprouted a second head.

“You-” The man before you cocks his head, looking befuddled, “You came here to- thank us?”

“Well yes, I know bread is hard to come by and I figured you could use a pick-me-up after your fight this morning.”

He smiles now but his incredulity doesn’t change as he takes the basket from your hands, “It’s warm.” He notes, “Did you bake this recently?”

“Yes I baked it today, just now actually uh-” You decide to speak candidly now since the possible threat margin seems to be closing, “You look confused.”

Jungkook is practically hiding behind the man you’re addressing and it takes a large part of you not to laugh at his behavior.

“Forgive me.” He chuckles, “We aren’t exactly used to hospitality. Most villagers avoid us like the plague, it probably has to do with our General but regardless.” He bows his head, “We appreciate the gesture. I’ll make sure to pass along your gratitude to him once he returns.”  

“Oh is he not here? I was hoping to thank him myself.” You try and mask the disappointment in your tone, not wishing to come across as stranger than you already did.

The man shakes his head, “No. He often takes a walk after an invasion; gotta make sure the perimeter is secure.” He smiles and you are taken aback by how white his teeth were, “My name is Seokjin, I’m the outreach expert on the fleet and unofficial chef. I promise your bread will be put to good use, it’s been months since we’ve had any decent carbs.”  

His comment makes you smile and you are delighted that his demeanor is so welcoming.

“I’m sorry to heart that. Will you be in town long? I can try to set you up with a few more baskets before your departure?”

Seokjin chuckles warmly before snorting as Jungkook paws at the basket, “Easy.” He admonishes but its too late, Jungkook already has half a loaf down in his mouth, his chest rumbling with the sound of his groan.  

“Oh my god hyung, it’s so good...”

Seokjin looks disgusted with him but hands him the basket anyway, nodding to the rest of the fleet, “Share. Make sure you save a loaf for Yoongi and I.”

Jungkook happily obliges but not before turning towards you and bowing, “Uh thanks for the- for the bread....”

His sentence is choppy and over before it even begins as he goes bounding off in the direction of his team.

“Pardon him, he’s been in the army since he was fourteen. We haven’t done an amazing job at socializing him but, he’s getting better. He’s still a bit antsy around women though.” Seokjin chuckles, fondness in his eyes, “Ah but to answer your question, yes. We've decided to set up here for a few weeks to train our new recruits. I would love to more of this bread if it’s not too much trouble.”

You smile, waving him off, attempting to conceal your happiness at the news he’s just delivered, “Nonsense, I’d be happy to bake some more.”

“Excellent!” He chirps, clasping his hands together, “I’m sure Yoongi would be happy to know we’ve finally manage to contact with a villager. It’s been an issue for us, stories spread like wildfire you know? And just like wildfire, they tend to do more harm than good.”

“And Yoongi is?”

Seokjin chuckles, “Ah I believe you’d know him better as...” He flutters his fingers dramatically, “ the Tiger.”

Yoongi.

So that was his name.

“Oh yes,” You amend, “I’ve certainly heard of him but, I prefer to make my own judgements rather than succumb to the gossip.”

He smirks, “That’s very noble of you Y/N. I for one,” He places a hand on his chest, throwing a wink your way, “, live for the gossip.”

Your meeting with Seokjin ends soon after that with a promise that you would return with more bread.  

As much as you wanted to rush back to Rachel’s house to inform of your meeting with the ‘most dangerous fleet in the world’, you remind yourself that school is in session; a necessary but annoying inconvenience.

However, there are plenty of ways you plan on keeping busy for the remainder of the day and one of them involves visiting the river to collect more herbs for your remedies.  

You obviously weren't able to sell your wares today as the marketplace was still littered with evidence of the robbery.  Your parents had insisted you take the day off to restock and recuperate whilst they helped the village leaders clean up.

Reluctantly, you agreed and you are now very grateful that you had.

The river has always been one of your favorite places. It was rich, green, buzzing with life and, always a few degrees colder than your village. Surrounded by mossy trees that seem to stretch as high as the clouds, the river is encased with life. Rabbits, squirrels, tortoises, frogs and a plethora of birds all coral in the area the river resides in whilst bears, big cats, wolves and monkeys hide behind the dense forest. It’s any apothecary’s paradise as it is also the residence of any herbs capable of growing in damp areas.  

Angelica, Blue Vervain, Marshmallow, Stinging Needle and more: the river is your one stop shop for so many of your essential ingredients.

Today you’re after a particular herb though and armed with another woven basket, you make your way towards the large bushels of it growing at the base of a tree trunk.

Valerian is an essential herb in your arsenal and due to its popularity, it’s something you’re consistently having to restock.  

Gathering it carefully, ensuring you don’t disturb the root of the plant.

You are so enthralled with your current task that you don’t even notice that you are no longer alone.

“Is this where the tree bark grows?”

You jump nearly six feet out of your skin, whipping your head around to face your intruder.

Standing before you is the myth himself, the Tiger or as you’ve recently learned: Yoongi.

He’s still in his armor from earlier, his long tendrils pulled back away from his face into a low ponytail. Between his lips, which are curving slightly, is a piece of the bark he had taken from your cart the day prior.

He is chewing it as you instructed.

“You of all people should know not to ambush someone like that...” You breath, placing a hand on your chest, “I could have wacked you with this basket or something.”

He just smirks, “I’ve had worse.” He notes, taking the bark from between his teeth, “I’m sorry I frightened you though, I didn’t expect to see anyone here.”

“Likewise.” You retort, nodding your head at the bark, “Is it helping?”

He shrugs, “Too early to tell I suppose but, it’s tending to my oral fixation so, either way it has a purpose.”

You straighten up a bit more and smooth out your dress, “It will work, it just takes a bit of time.” You assure him before adjusting the herbs in your basket, “I came by your tent earlier to offer my thanks for what you and your men did today, your outreach coordinator Seokjin told me he’d pass along the message but-”

“You did what?”

His tone doesn’t entirely lean one way or the other and you quickly grow worried that you offended him.

“I brought a basket of bread to uh-” You swallow thickly, meeting the intensity of his gaze, “to your camp as a thank you for saving my village.”

Several emotions flicker across his face before he settles on surprise, “I see. Were they polite?”

You can’t help but smile, this day truly has been full of surprises and, Yoongi’s demeanor is only adding to that list.  

“I only had the privilege of meeting Seokjin and well- I kind of met Jungkook but, he seemed a little-”

“Awkward?” Yoongi smirks

“A little.” You amend, “But both of them were very polite. They explained that they often don’t receive any hospitality on stops like this; I was very sorry to hear that.”

Yoongi’s teeth seem to catch the inside of his cheek as he nods curtly, “There’s no need for apologies. Hospitality is welcome but, never expected. I try to teach my men that we should never expect gratitude for what we do as it so often comes with a price.”

“I suppose gratitude should be offered situationally then, there was very little draw back to what you did today. Our village is privy to raiders; maybe if word gets around that you all were in town, that might prevent this from happening again.”

He purses his lips before nodding in consideration, “I see you’re point. Regardless of its necessity, gratitude is always welcome: especially when free food is involved.”

His comment makes you giggle and your laughter makes his lips itch in a way they never have.

“I wholeheartedly agree with that. I get a surprising amount of baked goods sent my way doing what I do so, I’ll have no problem dolling out the gratitude while you all are here.”  

Yoongi’s brows knit in confusion, “Do you people often pay you in baked goods?”

Laughter flows freely out of your mouth then and you shake your head at his question, “Definitely not, I sell my goods for currency as does any obedient member of society,” At this Yoongi smirks again, he likes your wit, a lot, “but I do receive muffin baskets, cakes, pies and whatnot from happy customers. They’re mainly from women whose husbands have taken my ginseng remedy.”

His curiosity blooms, “And why is that?”

You feel a bit of heat rushing to your cheeks, “Ginseng enhances uh- drive, often times it can be used a stimulant to promote you know-” You’re hoping Yoongi will put the pieces together but instead his eyes remain expectant, “passion.”

The word makes Yoongi straighten up a bit and in an effort to look casual, he nods quickly and hums a little too loudly.

“Ah yes. Of course. Well, as I said- free food is free food right?” He wagers, his fingers rubbing at the bit of bark.

Its your turn to smirk now but, you quickly change the subject when you ask, “Is the leader of the clan secure? I didn’t see him when I passed through your camp.”

He clears his throat, bringing the bark back towards his mouth, “He is. I have him locked up just behind the trees so he isn’t able to influence the new recruits. He had an alarming number of unwilling participants within his group, many of them claimed to be brought there with the threat of physical harm.”

You kiss your teeth and shake your head, “I don’t understand that kind of behavior. I understand that sometimes desperate people do desperate things but, to exert power or harm over another person without a viable cause...it just makes no sense to me.”

He’s intrigued now and as he brings the bark back to his lips, his brow knit with curiosity, “Hm. So do you think there is a justification to steal but not to commit violence?”

You can’t figure out why your opinion would matter to him but, you sure as hell aren’t going to question the length of this conversation.

“I think that some people believe they have no other choice but to steal. Wealth and power aren’t possible without a poor man to stand on, to oppress- I don’t support the idea of taking what doesn’t belong to you but, I could see why people are driven to do so. People are growing tired of being the poor man. Senseless violence isn’t something I could find a justification for. What the raiders often do, is both so I guess-” You hesitate, “I’m conflicted.”

Yoongi is captivated by your explanations, not because they are particularly ground breaking but, because they are particularly human. You aren’t afraid to discuss the complexity of life nor are you afraid to admit when certain things confound you.

“That’s a fair assessment. Do you agree with today’s outcome?”

Your smile returns, as you adjust the basket on your arm again, “I did. Especially because it seemed to surprise everyone, myself included.”

His lips return to his smirk, “Why? Because I didn’t behead him?”

“Exactly.” You breathe out a laugh before continuing,  “I for one was shocked to see you deal with the situation without your trusty viper...”  

His face turns to one of incredulity, “Oh my- you're not serious are you? Do people genuinely think I keep a viper on me at all times? Do they have any idea how unpractical that is?”

Yoongi’s reaction sends you into a fit of giggles and the sound makes his lips itch again.

He decides he enjoys the sound very much.

“I’m sure you’ve set a few people straight after this morning,” You offer, wiping a bit of moisture from the corner of your eye, “I doubt the rumors will repopulate the same way after you leave.”

“What do you think of them?”

“The rumors?”

“They’re entertaining.” You shrug, “But I don’t like to make assumptions about people unless I’ve met them, not even scary and supposedly cruel generals like yourself.”

The ghost of a smile shows itself on Yoongi’s mouth and his eyes seem to glimmer, pleased with your answer.

“I wish more people had that mindset.”  

It’s all he says before promptly dropping the subject again, nodding in the direction behind him, “I should probably head back to camp. I have a feeling that the longer I am away, the smaller my chances of getting any of that bread become.”

“You’re probably right, I have to be back before sunset anyway.” Your parents don’t like it when you’re out at the river after dark, “It was very nice meeting you Yoongi. I hope you enjoy the bread.”

His lips as he realizes something vital, “I’m sure I will. Forgive me, I don’t remember catching your name...”

At his observation, you extend your hand towards his, “Oh of course, my name is Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

Without looking down, he grasps your hand gently as if he were afraid to break it, “Y/N- I’ll remember it.” He promises unnecessarily but it still sends a flutter through your heart, “Get home safe.”

When he releases your hand, you step back towards the bushel of Valerian before smiling once more,  

“You too.”

As Yoongi departs from the river, he smirks to himself.

Perhaps this wouldn’t be the routine stop he had planned on.

Perhaps this would be so much more.

[novelconcepts]

Not sure if it’s Drabble worthy. What if Peter and Rebecca don’t die and therefore Bly doesn’t need a new Au Pair. Do Jamie and Dani still meet somehow?

There is a woman in the pub. Not, strictly speaking, an oddity--there are people here every night upon Jamie’s return from the manor. People with drinks and conversation, taking up space she doesn’t have the energy to deal with. 

This woman, though. This woman is strange simply because she isn’t. Because there is a look about her, too normal, too put-together. Because her eyes are too bright, and her hair too shiny, and she is--most important of all--not of Bly.

Not Jamie’s problem, either, she thinks, pushing past the woman’s table with little more than a glance.

Blue eyes, she registers. Blue eyes, catching hers for a bare moment. 

Jamie keeps walking.

***

The woman is back again. Still looking a bit too clean, a bit too bright to be allowed in a smudgy place like this. She’s seated at that same table, nursing a drink with her eyes on a book, and she is...

Just a woman, thinks Jamie, whose day has been marked by Miles’ attitude and Flora’s perfectly splendid’s, and whose head is in all honesty ringing just a bit more than she can stand. 

She could use a drink tonight. Could use a bit more than a drink, really--could use a long rest, a long break from memories of Peter fucking Quint moving about the house like he owns the place. Tonight, she’ll settle for the drink. It’s cheaper than therapy, easier than talking to Hannah or Owen about the whole business. Certainly easier than cornering Rebecca, pressing her toward sense.

Problem is, there is a woman in the pub. 

At her table.

She drinks at the bar instead and finds her eyes searching out that woman’s face in the mirror. Finds herself coming back time and time again to the curve of the woman’s cheek, the angle of her nose, the way she bites the edge of her thumbnail as she turns the page. 

Her eyes never raise, never seek Jamie’s in return, though Jamie is certain--judging by the insistent tap of one boot under the table, the fidgety quality of her fingers around her glass--she knows she is being watched. 

***

The woman, she supposes, has nowhere else to be. What must that be like? What cart must have overturned, tipping her onto the pavement of Bly, to this pub, to this dark corner of the world? 

Jamie can remember all too well what it feels like to have nowhere to be. To just stumble into whatever place will hold a person up. This woman, with her tailored blouse and her hoop earrings, doesn’t much look like Jamie had, living that sort of life. But what does Jamie know?

Blue eyes. Shiny hair. Very little else.

Jamie has taken in a drink every night this week, less for the value of the alcohol, more out of curiosity. Could the woman really be here each time she walks through the door? Could this same woman always set up shop at her table, alone, peaceably making her way through a battered paperback?

So far, survey says yes. 

And the week has been long, it’s true: Rebecca, growing agitated as tensions between Peter and the rest of them wind ever-higher. Last night, Hannah had gripped her steak knife as though considering plunging it into Peter’s thigh. Tonight, it had taken every ounce of Jamie not to take a swing with the expensive wine bottle he had produced from thin air. 

Deserve better, chick, she’d thought as Rebecca had soothed Peter’s glower with a kiss. You have to see that. 

Rebecca, predictably, does not. 

Jamie, sitting here with yet another drink, watching the strange woman at her table in the mirror, isn’t sure who she is to talk. 

***

Someone is trying to talk to the woman tonight. Someone--a bulky man in his mid-thirties who Jamie has already marked as endless trouble--is trying to take a seat at the woman’s table.

Jamie watches with hackles raised, glass poised at her lips, waiting. The woman looks like the sort to make polite conversation, to smile warmly, to find herself in a bad situation before she realizes. Not that it’s any of Jamie’s concern. Not that Jamie ought to be making noise in the pub above which she sleeps. 

The man is leaning across the table, his huge hand reaching for the woman’s book. His grin is sloppy, his eyes ale-muddled, and when he moves toward the woman’s hand, she recoils. Glances toward the bar. 

Glances directly at Jamie. 

Hell, thinks Jamie tiredly, because this isn’t the way. This is never effective, never wise. Keep to yourself, keep your bloody head to your own bloody business, that’s the trick. 

The woman’s eyes are so goddamned blue. 

“Saved me a seat, I see,” Jamie hears herself say, cocking her hip against the man’s chair with a fuck out of it smile. He squints up at her, clearly trying to piece together some bleary vestige of memory. 

“You’re,” he slurs, “upstairs.”

“Seem to be down among the locals tonight,” Jamie says cheerfully, and gives him a single jerk of the head in warning. He frowns, pushing himself clumsily to his feet. 

“Borin’ conversation anyway.”

Jamie watches him go, raises her glass to her lips, smiles when he shoots a dark look over his shoulder. She does not look at the woman, not until she hears a soft voice say, “Thank you.”

American, realizes Jamie. 

Mistake, realizes Jamie.

“Hang a jacket over the seat next time,” she suggests on her way back to the bar. “Dissuades the stupider ones.”

***

The woman buys her a drink. 

She seems, Jamie notes with some alarm, to have registered Jamie’s schedule. How Jamie seems to walk in around eight every evening, her shoulders tense with a day’s battles still hanging tight. How Jamie has long given up trying for her usual table, sacrificing it in the name of pretty blonde Americans. 

There is a drink waiting for her--her usual, though in a place like this, it isn’t hard to guess. 

“That one,” the bartender--tonight, a fiftyish woman with a smirk--says, and points exactly where Jamie expects. She glances over, finds the American with her own glass raised. Eyebrows arched. Head gesturing for Jamie to come on over.

Mistake, she thinks again, even as she’s obeying.

“Wanted to thank you again,” the woman says, as Jamie hovers beside the second chair. There is, she notes, a denim jacket tossed over its back.

“Not a problem.”

“Sit?” the woman suggests, and Jamie finds she can’t locate a reason not to. She settles awkwardly, trying not to dislodge the jacket, all-too aware of the filthy floor beneath her boots. 

“Really don’t think,” she begins, but the woman is saying something. She blinks. “Sorry?”

“Dani,” the woman says again, touching a hand to her chest. “Dani Clayton.”

It’s a bad idea, Jamie thinks distantly, because the woman is so goddamned pretty, it hurts. She’s pretty, and she’s smiling, and there’s something about her eyes that makes Jamie’s pulse do tricks she hasn’t entertained in years. 

“Jamie,” she replies, and allows the woman to clink a half-finished glass against her own. 

***

Dani, as it turns out, actually works here. 

“Just started,” she says, almost sheepishly, when Jamie makes blustery noises of surprise. “On the early shift. Just to have something to keep me busy, until I figure something else out.”

She’s in England, she says, on a sort of personal retreat. A finding myself sort of adventure, she adds with a laugh that rings in Jamie’s ears like the best kind of music. 

“Better places to do it in,” Jamie points out, “than a hole in Bly.”

Dani shrugs. “I like it. The people are nice, mostly. And it’s quiet.”

“Home wasn’t quiet?”

Dani doesn’t answer. Dani doesn’t seem to like to talk about herself all that much, Jamie is noticing. She likes, instead, to talk about the town--the strangers, the clients, the newness of it all. She’ll talk about the beer, about the book resting at her elbow, about the weather. Most of all, she asks after Jamie.

“Not much to tell,” Jamie says--a lie, if you go back far enough, but honest enough for now. “Groundskeeper, over at the big house down the way.”

“What does that entail?” Dani, unlike most, actually sounds interested. She is the oddest bird, Jamie thinks, and is startled to find a sense of light affection behind the notion. 

“Gardening, mostly. Keep up the grounds, like I said--minor repairs about the house, too. Make sure everything keeps moving.”

“You like it?”

“Love it,” Jamie says honestly. Dani smiles. 

“That’s what I want. Something I really love. Thought for a while it would be teaching, but...”

“Kids,��� Jamie says. “Take a lot out of a person. That why you’re here?”

Dani thinks on it, seems to step right up to the edge of a reply before changing her mind. “Couldn’t be at home anymore,” she says instead. It’s a non-answer, Jamie recognizes. A too much truth answer. 

“Fair enough,” Jamie tells her, and doesn’t push.

***

“So--he lives there?” Dani is three drinks in to Jamie’s two, her hair falling across her forehead as she tries to piece it all together. Jamie shakes her head. 

“Nah, not most days. Hannah, she lives there--full-time, I mean. And Rebecca, she moved in couple of months back. Kids love her. Quint, though, he’s...” She can’t find a nice way to put it. Isn’t sure why she’s even bothering. “A cockroach. Hard to kill, harder yet to wish away.”

“Sound like you’ve tried,” Dani says with a faint smile. Jamie shrugs.

“Waste of everyone’s time. He’s Henry’s fuckin’ lapdog. Long as he’s pulling at the leash, we all just need to make do.”

Dani mulls this over with the interest of someone who has not a single face to put with any of these names. “Rebecca really likes him, huh?”

“Likes him. Stuck into him. Not much of a difference.” Jamie leans back, pouring the remainder of her drink into a single swallow. The idea of it, of Peter’s hands on Rebecca’s waist at dinner, still makes her stomach sour. “You ever just--you ever meet someone who is like a human pair of handcuffs?”

Something flickers in Dani’s eyes. She nods once. Jamie sighs.

“That’s Quint. Fucker never met a woman he didn’t try to win--and I do mean win. Like a prize. Like women are little more than trophies to be locked behind glass.”

She watches Dani rub absently against her lips with the back of one hand, unable to tear her eyes away until Dani says, “I don’t understand.”

“It’s like,” Jamie begins, trying to find the best way to explain, “like he thinks she’s property, right? Like he thinks any choice she makes without his say-so is a fucking--”

“Not that,” Dani says quietly. “I mean I don’t understand how people can do that. To each other. When they say they love--I mean. It’s the wrong way around, isn’t it? Trying to own someone out of love? You can’t do it. That’s...they’re not...”

“They’re opposites,” Jamie finishes. Blue eyes skip up, hold hers, don’t so much as waver. Dani’s lips turn up at the corners, her head giving a single nod. 

“Yeah. Exactly. How do people mix that up?”

“No idea,” Jamie says, and swallows against the clamor of her own heart.

***

Peter tried to pick a fight this afternoon, out among the roses. Would have succeeded, Jamie thinks with no small amount of shame, had Miles not been lurking just behind him, watching everything.

She is vibrating when she reaches the pub, every motion just a little more exaggerated than she likes. She slams down into her usual seat, hands clenched into fists against the table. 

“Bad day?” Dani asks, sliding a plate toward her. Half a sandwich, carefully set aside as if for Jamie all along. 

“Not great,” Jamie agrees. She softens, looking Dani over, reading the tension behind her smile. “Look like you can say the same.”

Dani glances over her shoulder, eyes finding the mirror behind the bar and darting jerkily away again. “Hard to explain,” she says. 

“Do you want to?” Jamie asks. Dani’s eyes land on her with all the abrasive surprise of an explosion. Jamie taps light knuckles against the tabletop. “Just sayin’. If you want to get it off your chest--”

Dani shakes her head. “It’s...really hard to explain,” she says, almost apologetic. “It--it makes me sound...kinda crazy.”

Jamie has never met someone who looks less crazy. Someone who holds herself with such steadiness, though her hands are twitchy and her smile doesn’t always reach her eyes. 

“If you want,” she says, knowing she will, in a moment, let the moment slide. “I don’t mind.”

There’s silence between them, a great comfortable swell of it that shouldn’t exist in a small pub, on a night like this, between two women who barely know one another. Jamie lets it ride, taking a bite of sandwich, watching Dani read her expression with tentative interest.

“I had a fiancé,” Dani says at last, and Jamie feels something in her stomach turn over. And then a second time, when Dani adds, “He died.”

“Dani. I’m so--”

“He died,” Dani says, staring grimly ahead as though trying with everything in her power not to glance toward the mirror again, “and I had just--I had just told him I couldn’t--”

She hesitates, pressing her face into her palms. When she lifts her head, her eyes are blazing. 

“I’d just broken--up with him. Broken the engagement, broken the whole--because he wasn’t what I--and then he died. And sometimes, I...I...”

Jamie waits. Dani sucks in a ragged breath.

“I see him. Sometimes. In mirrors, mostly. In--and it’s insane, I know, but I can’t stop.”

“S’why you came here?” Jamie guesses. Dani nods. 

“Crazy, right?”

Jamie shakes her head slowly. She’s not much for ghost stories, for fairytales, for dreams made flesh. Loss, though? Grief? Missing who a person was, who they could be? Those aren’t the marks of a crazy person. Those are just...

“Sounds like a rough time,” she says, and lets herself reach across the table. Dani’s hand is soft beneath her own, and she is suddenly too aware of her own callouses, of the skid against Dani’s skin when she turns her hand over and squeezes Jamie’s fingers in return. 

“Thank you,” she says softly, and looks once more toward the mirror. Jamie watches her: the tension in her brow, the way her eyes seem to narrow. “I think I...needed to tell someone. Finally.”

She’s still holding Jamie’s hand, even as she turns the subject to the day’s customers, to Jamie’s plans for tomorrow. She’s still holding Jamie’s hand, and doesn’t even seem to notice.

***

There is a fight, but it isn’t Jamie who starts it. Isn’t Jamie who finishes it, even. 

Jamie is only stupid enough to step in the middle. 

“Your eye,” Dani says in greeting, standing briskly up from the table. Jamie, who is aware she is no longer bleeding, aware that the glass thrown could have done significantly more damage on a less-fortunate occasion, waves her off. 

“Bit, ah. Messy at the house tonight.”

Bit messy is a gentle way of putting it. In truth, it had been a horrorshow: Hannah already furious with Peter for having barricaded Rebecca in the bedroom all afternoon, Peter furious with Owen for having enlisted Rebecca’s help with dinner, Rebecca wound tight with the rising pressure of a situation primed to go bad for days. When the glass had been thrown--by Peter or by Rebecca, Jamie still can’t say; she suspects it had really slipped from a gesticulating hand, regardless, given momentum by a moment of frustration more than genuine violence--it had been the bomb they’d all been waiting for.

Rebecca had stormed off to her room. Peter, out of the house. Hannah had collected the kids, both of whom were sobbing, and Jamie had pushed Owen’s helpful hand away and cleaned her own wound. 

“Theater,” she says now, aware of Dani’s eyes on her, of the abject concern in Dani’s face. “S’all it was.”

“Not good for the kids,” Dani says quietly. Jamie sighs.

“None of this is good for ‘em. Miles, he keeps...picking up shifty habits from Quint, and Flora’s enamored with the whole rotten mess. Thinks it’s romantic.” Jamie shakes her head, winces when her head rings back in answer. “Like there’s anything fuckin’ romantic about the way he talks to her.”

Dani is quiet a moment. She reaches across the table, presses her fingertips very gently to the place along Jamie’s brow where the glass had landed. 

“Lucky it didn’t break,” Jamie murmurs, almost unaware of leaning into Dani’s hand. “Shouldn’t have gotten in the...”

Dani is gazing at her with eyes too blue, an expression too meaningful. Jamie reaches up, closes her own fingers around the hand gingerly exploring her brow. 

“I’m okay,” she says. “Really.”

Dani seems not to believe her. Dani, whose palm slides across her own, thumb working a swipe along Jamie’s skin. 

“Do you,” she begins. Clears her throat. Tries again. “Do you want to go somewhere?”

Dani nods.

***

She leads Dani upstairs, and even as she’s unlocking the door, she thinks, Mistake? This is, she knows, the kind of thing a person can’t take back. The kind of give that can’t be explained away. 

Dani has not stopped looking at her since leaving the pub. Dani has not let go of her hand. 

Dani, she is sure, feels it, too. 

She’s aware of all the bits of the flat that feel wrong when set alongside Dani Clayton: last week’s shirt tossed over the back of the sofa, last night’s cup on the counter, last month’s dust painting the bookshelf. All the little merits of a life lived alone, she thinks. If she’d known--if she’d planned--it would look different.

Not much different, maybe, but enough.

Dani is looking around with an expression Jamie can’t read. It isn’t unease, or polite interest, or even amusement; it is, Jamie thinks, genuine awe. It is, Jamie thinks, a hunger to belong. 

She’d fit in, she catches herself thinking, watching Dani walk slowly around the flat with the faintest smile at her lips. In that house, with the rest, maybe better than I do. She’d fit right in.

“This is yours?” Dani asks, not gesturing at any one thing in particular, and Jamie nods slowly. 

“Serves its purpose.”

“I’ve never had this,” Dani says. Her eyes linger on Jamie’s face, and she adds hastily, “A place of my own. It seems...quiet.”

“It is,” Jamie says, and wonders if there isn’t more to it. If I’ve never had this is reaching for more than four walls and a bed Dani wouldn’t have to share. 

***

They don’t really talk about it, as Jamie’s flat commandeers the pub’s place in line altogether. Sometimes, Jamie even finds Dani seated on her steps, book propped upon on her knees, waiting patiently to be discovered. It never feels like expectation, Jamie notes with feelings too big to look at for long. It only ever feels like Dani, warm smile and easy hand accepting Jamie’s for balance, has belonged here all along.

“D’you ever just,” Jamie begins, cutting herself off before the rest of the words can spill out. Dani, curled on the sofa with a blanket half-tucked around her, furrows her brow. 

“What?”

“Feel like someone was always there,” Jamie finishes after a moment’s deliberation. It’s too much, probably, but she walked in on Peter and Rebecca screaming at one another again, and Flora spent the whole day in a sulk, and Hannah’s got a weariness around her eyes Jamie doesn’t like. Maybe it’s just a day for too much. 

Dani doesn’t seem to think it’s too much. Dani is nodding.

“Like you don’t even have to introduce yourself, really, because you remember them from another life. Yes. Yes, I’ve...felt that.”

It’s romantic rubbish, Jamie wants to say, something out of one of Flora’s story-time adventures, but the words seem to settle along her skeleton like she needs them. Like they’re offering some kind of strength she didn’t realize she was lacking. 

Dani is gazing at her, her expression fixed and unblinking in a manner that should be off-putting, and Jamie finds herself pulled irresistibly in. Finds herself leaning across the sofa, her thigh pressing to Dani’s, twisting at the waist to face her head-on.

“I’ve never,” Dani says softly, though her head is inclining, her lashes fluttering against her cheek. 

“Don’t have to,” Jamie replies, though her blood is singing, her fingers itching to delve into thick blonde hair. 

“But we could...” Dani is an inch away, and Jamie wants nothing more than to close the gap. Wants to take something for herself, for once, something soft and warm and easier than it ought to be. 

She hesitates. Flexes her hands against her own knees, resisting the urge to grab for Dani’s shirt. 

“Dani, I don’t want to--”

Dani is leaning back, nodding feverishly. “Right. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry--”

“No, listen.” She allows herself this, one hand reaching for Dani’s fingers, unfolding the instinctive fist she’s made. “I'm not...people don’t make sense to me. Understand?”

Dani shakes her head, puzzlement spreading over her impending humiliation. Jamie closes her eyes. 

“There’s a lot to it, and if...if you want to hear it all sometime, I’ll...but for now, just know that people are hard for me. Exhaustive. Complicated. They ask too much and they return too little.”

“Even me?” Dani asks, eyes shining, and Jamie smiles grimly. 

“Even you. Even me. Everyone, understand? But sometimes I still want...”

Dani waits. Dani, who never hurries Jamie anywhere. Who never tries to argue Jamie into a corner, or tells Jamie she needs to be kinder, or sneers for Jamie to get out of her way. Dani, who only sits on Jamie’s sofa, watching Jamie with an intensity no one else seems to possess. 

“If you do,” Jamie says, almost helplessly, letting one hand brace beneath Dani’s elbow. “I want--”

***

Some people--some women--kiss to escape. To flee from their lives, to hide inside Jamie’s hands and lips and fleeting desire. Some women kiss to build up armor: to convince themselves they really are brave enough, even for a night, to be someone else. Some women even kiss to shame themselves, because the memory of Jamie on their skin will rise up at unexpected moments and make them feel something, anything, even if it’s terrible. 

Dani doesn’t kiss like any of those women. 

Dani kisses like she wants. Simple and steady and nothing more. Like she wants to be kissing Jamie, wants to be learning Jamie, wants the want of it as much as the thing itself. There is no shame, in the way Dani kisses her. There is only breathless excitement, Dani moving across the sofa to press tight to Jamie’s frame along the cushions.

“I’ve never,” she says again, only this time, she’s curling the words into the underside of Jamie’s jaw. She’s letting them spill across Jamie’s skin from within the loose grip of Jamie’s arms, her hands wound tight in Jamie’s shirt, her voice jittery with anticipation. 

“If you want to stop,” Jamie begins, and Dani is shaking her head, kissing her neck, murmuring against her in such a way, Jamie can’t help but shiver.

“It’s what I--it’s right. The right way.” She lifts her eyes, and Jamie can’t help but grin at the joy reflected back. “I’ve never done it the right way.”

Jamie wants to know what that means, what the wrong way was, but it doesn’t seem a question for now. Now is just Dani, the one golden light untouched by a bleak day, the one bright spot after a tattered house Jamie doesn’t really belong in. Dani, who sighs against her lips, smiling, like she’s never been so happy to kiss someone. 

She’s waiting for Dani to reel back, to gasp, to mention the fiancé again--but Dani only presses in closer and lets her mouth linger against the thunder of Jamie’s pulse beating along in her throat. Dani only finds her lips with such a sound of relief, Jamie can do nothing but grip at her back in response. 

Have we done this before? she thinks with feverish uncertainty. Have we been here before? Dani is new, each press and slide of fingers along her skin calling forth unexpected sounds, but Dani is also right. Like meeting someone and knowing they were meant to be in your story the whole time. 

“You’re sure?” she asks, though Dani is gazing down at her with such obvious desire, it makes her stomach clench. 

Dani, in answer, kisses her as no woman has ever kissed her, and Jamie lets herself fall. 

***

Dani is still in her bed come morning. 

Dani is still wrapped around her, naked skin and rapturous smile, and Jamie thinks, How can I be so happy, when the rest of it is falling apart?

“All right?” she asks, half-expecting the awareness of the previous night--of their slow stumble across the flat, of Dani’s shirt over her head and Dani’s hands cradling Jamie’s skin--to crash in around them both like a bad dream. Dani only wriggles against her under the blankets, face pressed to Jamie’s shoulder. 

“Yes. Are you?”

No one has ever asked that, Jamie realizes dimly. Not even the first girl she’d ever loved, the one who had taken Jamie by the shoulders and kissed her hard enough to hurt. Jamie, who had only been preoccupied with the sense memory of a moment like that, with the teeth buried in her bottom lip and the hand cupped between her legs, hadn’t much cared at the time. 

Now, though, with Dani looking at her this way, she can’t imagine being with someone who doesn’t ask. Who doesn’t trail the tips of their fingers along her shoulder, her collarbone, her neck, and smile like they knew all along they were needed here. 

“I’m glad,” she hears herself say, morning rasp tracing the words, “you stayed.”

Dani is still beaming when Jamie kisses her, the implication of I am, too buried in the gentle press of her hand against Jamie’s cheek.

“Are you going to be late?” she asks a little while later, when there’s fresh sweat on her breast and Dani is gulping air against her neck. Dani shakes her head, dusting light kisses across Jamie’s skin. She swallows, laughs, groans when Dani finds a particularly pleasant spot in the hollow of her throat and sets to exploring it properly. “Keep doing that, and I will be.”

And would that be so bad? To leave the house for a day. To pretend like it isn’t all imploding around her, a little family divided by one man’s arrogance. Like Jamie doesn’t feel, more and more each day, as though she is the odd one out, the seventh wheel amid three solid pairs.

Dani, still teasing the clench of her stomach with curious fingers, says, “Guess you should go, then,” and Jamie thinks no one has ever said as much to her with less pleasure. No one has ever sounded quite so inclined to keep Jamie close. 

“I’ll be back,” she promises, and Dani--spilled across her sheets like she was placed by some grand wish--grins all the wider.

***

Rebecca spends the day in silent fury, tears running down her cheeks. Hannah spends it trying to keep her lips pursed around I told you so-shaped phrasing. Owen spends it in the kitchen, head down, and Jamie spends it teaching the kids how to properly weed out a garden, just for the distraction of it all.

Peter, they tell her, is gone. 

Peter, they tell her, left last night. 

“Gone where?” Dani asks when she pushes into the flat that night to find her still here, wrapped in one of Jamie’s favorite shirts and a pair of shorts. She has spent the day, she says, feeling intrusive, feeling as though she ought to be somewhere. Jamie, unable to explain the ease with which she does it, only leans in to kiss her slowly. 

“Here,” she says. “Meant to be here.”

As for Peter--she doesn’t much care where he’s skittered off to. Good fucking riddance, in her opinion. 

“Rebecca probably doesn’t agree,” Dani says, folded onto one of the sparse kitchen chairs with bare feet and a worried expression Peter doesn’t deserve. Across from her, Jamie sighs. 

“Maybe he’s got the right idea.”

Dani tips her head, waiting, and it strikes Jamie that this is an already that doesn’t make much sense. Like the comfortable silences, Dani’s capacity to already understand when she needs to talk something out, when she needs to come to a matter on her own terms without being rushed along, is a thrill. 

“Been thinking,” she goes on slowly, giving voice to thoughts she’s been batting around for months, “maybe I’ve outstayed my welcome, as it were. At the house. With the others.”

“You said you loved it,” Dani points out. Jamie sighs.

“Love the work. Love the people, some of ‘em. But there’s something about it--something about being bound to the place that feels...”

Suffocating, she doesn’t say. Like trying to walk against the wind. Like a clock ticking down.

“Been thinking for a while,” she says instead, “about moving on. Traveling some. Can find good work for my hands anywhere, can’t I?”

Dani doesn’t answer. Dani seems to recognize this is Jamie’s future to parse out, Jamie’s thoughts to sift through. Dani having spent a night in her bed is not qualified to deter or convince her. 

“It can be lonely,” she says, when Jamie goes quiet. “Traveling without a destination.”

“You’ve been doing it,” Jamie points out, smiling a little, and Dani looks almost embarrassed. 

“Seemed the only thing to do, at the time. If I had to do it again...”

“You’d stay home?”

Dani laughs. “No. No, absolutely not.” Her hand slides across the table, tangling with Jamie’s fingers. “But...I don’t know that I’d do it alone again. If I didn’t have to.”

Jamie says nothing, the words revolving around and around between them. It’s too early to say it, she thinks. Even if she feels as though she’s known Dani far longer than these few weeks, these spare bundles of days spent talking, laughing, kissing, it hasn’t been long enough to say a thing like this. 

Dani is watching with serious eyes, with a strangely calm expression, and Jamie wonders if she can see it in her eyes, the thing she is deliberately not saying out loud.

***

She expects to find Peter back again the next day, but his absence is etched into every inch of wallpaper like a smoke stain. Rebecca seems to be moving in slow motion, going about the business of teaching the kids with very little investment. Hannah and Owen exchange concerned looks over the lunch table, and Jamie--who had enjoyed a languorous morning with Dani in her entirely too-small shower--finds herself thinking again of this house, how good it is at building pairs of people. How, without her pair, Rebecca seems lost. How, without Jamie around each morning, Hannah and Owen seem to be revolving ever nearer to one another. 

And maybe that’s for the best, she thinks. Maybe it’s like science, like the simplicity of an atom. Maybe without Peter holding her to the structure, Rebecca will ultimately bounce off again, vanish into a space built for, instead of around, her. Maybe Owen and Hannah will finally speak of quiet lovely truths they’ve been dancing around for years. Maybe it will all balance out. 

“Where are you off to next?” she asks Dani one night, the two of them curled close in bed. Dani, who had been drowsing against her shoulder, raises her head. 

“Kicking me out?” There’s a smile on her lips which, when paired with the genuine edge of worry in her voice, makes Jamie’s heart hurt. 

“No, I--I mean, I know it’s...early. And you can say no. Please, by all means, say no if you--”

“Ask,” Dani interrupts gently. Jamie sighs. 

“I’m going to call up Wingrave. Let him know he’ll be needing a new groundskeeper for the autumn season. I can’t...”

Keep listening to the walls breathe around me, she doesn’t say. Keep watching Rebecca mope, and the kids checking every window for Peter fucking Quint’s reflection. Can’t keep still in this place that only ever wants a person to stay the same. 

“I can’t,” she repeats solidly. “I was wondering if you’d...if you wanted...”

It’s been a week since opening her bed to Dani Clayton, and a week is nothing. A week is barely a breath, in the grand scheme of things, but there are feelings Jamie can’t bury once dug up. Certainties she can’t turn from, once looked in the eye. There is something about the way Dani exhales across her skin in her sleep, about the way Dani kisses her with open abandon when Jamie touches her, about the look in Dani’s eyes when she thinks Jamie doesn’t see. A week in her bed. A month in her life. 

Sometimes, she thinks recklessly, you know it’s worth trying for.

“If you wanted the company,” she says finally. “Not even forever, if you didn’t want--”

“Forever’s a long time,” Dani replies, though she’s smiling. Heat winds its way up Jamie’s neck, settling between her shoulder blades, at the small of her back where Dani’s hand seems always to grip tight around her shirt. 

“It is. Yeah.”

“Start smaller?” Dani suggests quietly, even as she’s pressing close, one leg sliding between Jamie’s beneath the sheets. “Only, I knew someone once, who demanded forever. It...didn’t work out.”

“Smaller,” Jamie agrees, relieved. Dani smiles against her lips, each kiss a little longer, a little more wanting than the last. “Little at a time, maybe.”

“Company would be nice,” Dani answers, and then she’s kissing Jamie for real, pressing Jamie into the sheets, and Jamie doesn’t care that the summer has been a mess of other people’s feelings, that the house is a cataclysm of old ghosts and unpleasant exhumations, that people are rarely worth the effort sunk into them. Jamie doesn’t care about anything just now except the distinct sound of Dani’s laugh in her mouth, the distinct pressure of Dani’s fingers against her heart. 

A woman in her pub. An event built of a dozen tiny accidents, a dozen roads taken without expectation of consequence. Maybe in another life, Dani would have chosen the next village down the way. Maybe in another life, Jamie would have been too wary to meet her eyes. Maybe in another life, Rebecca would never have come to teach those kids, Peter would never have made a misery of that house, Owen and Hannah would have built a love in Paris to put them all to shame. Other lives. Other roads. 

In this one, Jamie dreams of adventure, of a soft hand tucked into her own, of blue eyes and a brave little grin, and thinks, Half the fun, isn’t it? Never knowing where you might land. 

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Not Bad

Prompts: Hihi, i have a Merlin prompt if you're interested. Merlin thinks he's a bad person bec he was taught that magic is bad, but also Bec of all the stuff he did/does to keep Arthur safe and ig throw in some touch starved!Merlin too for fun. But the knights compliment/hug/etc all the time and Merlin just doesn't understand what he's supposed to do with this, so the solution is to breakdown crying and try to convince the knights he's the bad person he sees himself as and the knights are just like "but you're wrong and he's 25 reasons why you're wrong" Plz, thx, love your writing - anon

im a fuckin sucker for soft knights & arthur w merlin so, if ur still takings reqs, i would love to see when the knights realize merlin still views himself as a "monster" like is hinted in first ep (? i thinkk, im rusty on my merlin trivia)- is it a passing comment he makes and they realize all together? knight cuddle pile? just give the poor boy some love - anon

if you'd want to write it i'd love to see the collective moment that the knights realize that merlin is self-harming in some way (in my brain this is probably in like a denial-of-things type thing that he probably doesn't even see as self-harm bc he's an idiot, could even be something like healing everyone else w magic but refusing to heal himself... idk feel free to do whatever you see fit!). i can only imagine they'd be frustrated with him and themselves but theyre just loving large idiots (': - anon

ahh yes all the prompts

Read on Ao3 Part 2

Warnings: implied/referenced self-harm in the form of intentionally depriving oneself of physical contact because THAT COUNTS

Pairings: merthur, can be platonic or romantic I don't care

Word Count: 3462

Arthur is confused, very upset, and nothing is alright anymore, thank you very much.

Because you see, despite the image that he tries to present—emphasis on the word ‘try’, there, according to his knights—he does care an awful lot about his people, especially his one particular person that happens to be able to say an awful lot without saying anything.

Merlin. He’s talking about Merlin, in case you hadn’t noticed.

The problem is that for all the man can ramble on about seemingly anything, at any time, he’s remarkably good at saying absolutely nothing about himself. He claims he’s an open book, but he’s certainly in a language that Arthur doesn’t know how to read.

He does know how to read, just to clarify. That isn’t the issue here.

No, no, the issue is that after months, years, almost a decade of Merlin by his side, watching his back, taking care of him, he’s discovered that there’s a secret that Merlin’s keeping from him. One he never intended to tell Arthur.

And before you panic, no, he’s not talking about Merlin’s magic.

Come on, it’s not like it’s not obvious, the man isn’t exactly good at hiding it. Does he seriously believe Arthur can’t see the tree branches that miraculously pick themselves up and fly at the nearest bandit or the spears that fling themselves at the foe about to behind Gwaine? Or the chores that mysteriously get done too fast for Merlin and far too efficiently? Or the way certain magical ailments seem to vanish mysteriously along with his idiot of a servant only to be greeted with a soft shrug when he pokes?

Merlin’s eyes also turn gold, that’s pretty neat.

So Merlin has magic.

Yes, we know, we had a small tantrum over the fact that he told Lancelot first, but it’s fine. Quite frankly, a lot of things make more sense now.

Except for this. Not this.

Merlin is hiding the secret that he believes he’s a bad person.

Now, Arthur’s not sure if you’ve met Merlin, but the man isn’t exactly the image of the evildoer that springs to mind when someone says ‘bad person.’

The Witch Finder, now there’s a bad person. Storming into Camelot, preying on the fear of the people, bribing and threatening and drugging people, torturing them, and condemning them to death just for the sake of a few coins.

Merlin did storm into Camelot, that is true, but he decided to pick a fight with the crown prince and then save his life. He’s not here for coin—if he were, they wouldn’t have had that small, er, issue about the steward not paying him anything for his work for the past eight years, honestly—and he’s certainly not preying on anyone’s fears. Except perhaps Arthur’s fear of losing his dignity.

The look on his father’s face when Merlin dodged the pillow…

Speaking of his father…there’s another one.

His father did not prey as openly on the people’s fear—or as obviously as Aredian, but prey on them he did. He was a strong king, sometimes too strong. He was a blind king, saw the people as nothing more than subjects, not the living breathing humans they are. He remembers Morgana’s voice, saying that authority should derive from the consent of the governed, not from the threat of force.

He always wanted to see Uther’s face when his ward—when his daughter said that to him.

And what he’s done to Morgana…

Arthur grimaces and shakes his head. Perhaps the very truth that he resents the idea of thinking about what Uther did to Morgana, to him…perhaps that is enough.

Those are bad people. At least to Arthur.

Merlin, on the other hand…

Merlin came into Camelot, knowing that if it was discovered that he has magic, he would be burnt at the stake. He came, not with any aspirations of glory, simply because he trusted his mother when she told him to come to Gaius. He came and he was given a job he never asked for, one he had no idea how to do, and stayed.

Merlin learned. Slowly, perhaps, but he learned. Now he has enough knowledge on what a servant should do to break the rules in the most spectacular fashion. Arthur smiles, biting back the chuckle at seeing George dressed up like Merlin and acting perfectly proper and the urge Arthur had to throw him out of the room.

And that’s not even mentioning what he does when he’s not following Arthur around.

Merlin learned. Merlin stayed.

Not just for Gaius, but for Arthur.

Arthur leans onto his desk, staring out into the courtyard where Merlin is tending to the knights’ horses as they mount up for patrol. He watches Leon step a little closer, lowering his head to mutter something to him, watching Gwaine clap Merlin on the shoulder.

Watches Merlin flinch a little too hard.

Watches Leon’s brow furrow and Gwaine take a step back.

This. This is the problem.

Merlin believes he’s a bad person. Which is wrong, but for some reason, he does.

And because Merlin believes he’s a bad person, he believes that anytime one of the knights touches him—or anyone touches him—it will be to hurt him.

How did they come to this conclusion, you may ask?

Arthur bites back a snarl as he turns away from the window.

It had started with the complements.

Gwaine, to no one’s surprise, was quite fond of flirting with anyone and everyone that would let him, Merlin no exception. Talking about Merlin’s looks, his personality, his work ethic, anything, and everything. Merlin would flush, bright red, ears and all, mumbling to himself.

But then Percival had said something and Merlin pushed him away—well, prodded his arm, no one really moves Percival without Percival letting them—and shook his head. Percival had shrugged but the rest of them had noticed the tension in Merlin’s shoulders.

Then Elyan complemented Merlin’s tracking abilities and Merlin hadn’t even acknowledged it, instead insisting that they keep moving before it got too dark to see and they’d be forced to make camp in the woods. They’d agreed, pressing on, but noting the way that Merlin refused to say so much as thank you.

Leon’s perceptiveness should be considered magical. Seriously, Arthur’s not entirely convinced the man can’t see into people’s heads, what with the information he’s able to produce out of nothing more than the twitch of a finger or the slightest huff of breath. But he sees the way Merlin shies away from any display of affection, even as he gently repeats it, watching Merlin turn his back and get back to work.

Arthur never saw what happened with Lancelot. All he knows is that one night, out in the woods, the two of them had gone off to collect firewood and Merlin had been hiding red-rimmed eyes when he returned, a few paces ahead of Lancelot, not ten minutes later. Arthur had glared but the forlorn confusion on Lancelot’s face had given him pause.

Then it was the touching.

One would expect Merlin to be a quite tactile person, and he is. He’s all shoulder nudges and pokes and prods and gentle shoves to get people to move where he wants them to go. And it’s not like the man has much concept of personal space.

No, some of that is not Arthur’s fault, how dare you?

But when someone else tries it, Merlin tenses reflexively, already moving before their hands make contact. He gives everyone he can a wide berth, scuttling around the outside of rooms until one of them breaks and tells him to come here, Merlin, it’s alright, we won’t hurt you. His face never quite believes them.

The strangest thing is how much of it Merlin makes small adjustments for.

He always wears those god-awful tunics, that he won’t let Arthur replace with fabric that doesn’t feel like it’s a burlap sack, with the sleeves pulled all the way down and those kerchiefs tied around his neck. Arthur’s seen his sleeves rolled up before, but only when Merlin’s working and he hasn’t realized Arthur’s there yet. It’s not like Arthur doesn’t know Merlin has forearms, but Merlin will always jump and guiltily roll his sleeves down.

He doesn’t notice why until he accidentally brushes Merlin’s bare skin once and Merlin all but tears away like he’s been burned.

He doesn’t know why.

Merlin has a secret. The secret is that he believes he’s a bad person. That means he can’t accept compliments and he can’t let them touch him.

This is a problem, because Arthur would very much like for Merlin to believe that he isn’t a bad person.

This is also a problem because Arthur has no idea how to do that.

He looks up when there’s a knock on the door.

“Enter.”

“Sire?” Leon steps through. “May we come in?”

Arthur nods, his eyebrows raising as all of his knights spill into the room.

“Shall I assume you’re on the warpath again?”

“Nah,” Gwaine grumbles, throwing himself into a chair, “know this isn’t your fault.”

Leon shakes his head. “It’s Merlin, sire, we’re…concerned.”

Arthur just sighs and tells them what’s been buzzing around his head for the past…however long it’s been. The knights nod.

“He doesn’t like to be touched when he doesn’t expect it,” Lancelot offers, “but when I ask…he doesn’t seem to want to agree either.”

“But he does,” Gwaine argues, “you’ve seen the way he stares at us when we hug each other, he looks like a poor child that’s never had a hug in his life!”

“Which isn’t true.” Elyan folds his arms. “Gwen’s hugged him.”

“We’ve all hugged him.”

“But he still thinks we’re going to hurt him.”

“Well,” Arthur mutters, “we can’t exactly blame him for being paranoid, can we?”

“If you lot are going to talk about me behind my back like it’s a war council, then yeah, I reserve the right to be paranoid.”

“Merlin!”

“Thank god, where’ve you been?”

“I thought we were meeting by the stables.”

“Did you get hurt?”

Merlin raises his hands and takes a step back. “Whoa, can I get through the door first before the interrogation starts?”

“This isn’t an interrogation,” Arthur says, glaring at the knights, “we’re concerned.”

“Uh-huh,” Merlin mutters, weaving through them to the table so he can set down the thing hooked over his arm, “yes, I’m all too familiar with your concern.”

Arthur frowns. “What does that mean?”

Merlin waves a hand. “Oh, just that it’s a prelude to more chores and things to do.”

Is that…true?

“Yes.”

Did he say that out loud?

“Also yes.”

Arthur shakes his head. “Merlin, we’re not coming up with lists and lists for chores for you to do.”

“Really? With how many you all constantly give me, here I finally thought I’d cracked the code as to why.”

Leon steps forward. “We’re not coming up with things to give you, Merlin, nor are we intending to gossip behind your back.”

“So what are you doing?”

“We’re worried,” Lancelot repeats, “about you.”

“Well, I’m right as rain, no need to worry.”

“Lie.”

Merlin’s eyes go wide and he stares at Leon. The knight smiles ruefully and takes another little step forward.

“Lie,” he repeats gently, “you don’t have to lie to us, Merlin.”

Merlin’s mouth thins. “Maybe I don’t want to tell you, then.”

“Why not—“

“No,” Arthur breaks in, causing Merlin to swing his head around again, “no, if Merlin doesn’t want to tell us he doesn’t have to.”

Gwaine looks on the verge of protest, but another look from Lancelot is enough to quell him. He sinks into the chair and tosses an apple to Merlin.

“At least eat something,” he says by way of explanation, “you’ve not eaten anything since lunch.”

Merlin looks very confused—good, now he’s just like the rest of them—but bites into the apple nonetheless. His gaze travels around the room before coming to rest on Leon.

“Why are you all concerned?”

“Because you won’t let us complement you, Merlin,” Leon says softly, “you believe that every time we touch you we intend to hurt you, and you believe that this is deserved because you are a bad person.”

The flabbergasted look on Merlin’s face is almost enough to make Arthur laugh. Almost.

“How…”

“We notice things, Merlin,” Leon says patiently, “we notice you.”

Lancelot snorts. “Good going, mate, you’ll freak him out.”

“Um—there’s nothing worth noticing about me—“

“Not we all know that’s not true,” Gwaine says, and if it had been any other time it would’ve sounded like the next pick-up line at the tavern, “you’re worth noticing, Merlin.”

Merlin’s gaze darts back and forth, finding no disagreement in any faces.

“What—what were you concerned about?”

“Aside from what we just told you?”

“But I don’t—why is that a problem?”

Arthur swallows a curse. “Are you asking why we’re upset that you believe you’re a bad person and you deserve to be treated badly?”

“…yes?”

“Because you’re not a bad person,” Elyan says, “and you don’t deserve to feel like everyone’s about to hurt you.”

Gods, the look of disbelief on Merlin’s face hurts.

“You don’t know that,” he says lowly, setting the apple down, “you don’t know that.”

“Sure we do.” Elyan uncrosses his arms. “We know you, Merlin.”

“I don’t think you do.”

A look passes around the group of knights. Elyan smiles.

“I know that Gwen came home and told me she’d made a friend the first week you arrived in Camelot. I know that you’ve reminded us what family means. I know that you care, Merlin, about your friends, because they’re important to you.”

Merlin blinks in confusion.

“I know you’re a strong man,” Percival says, “and not just because you can lift the packs for the horses without complaining. But you work hard, because you know you can, and so that people don’t have to. You provide what you can because you know what it’s like to have nothing.”

“I—I—“

“I know you’re brave,” Lancelot says softly, standing, “I know you feel the same fear that we all do and you stare it straight in the face.”

He pauses, takes one step closer.

“I know you don’t chase the glory of being brave, but the feeling of being brave and using it.”

“Guys, I—“

“I know what you’ve done.”

Merlin’s face goes pale at Leon’s words.

The knight tilts his head to the side and smiles.

“I’ve been around the longest,” he says in a near whisper, “and I have seen the changes from when you arrived in Camelot until now. I’ve seen the differences, not just in the other men in this room but in Camelot.”

He lays a hand on his chest.

“I know that you’ve made me prouder to serve this kingdom than many others that have tried.”

Poor Merlin is shaking right now, his fingers trembling on the edge of the table. He looks around in confusion, terribly frightened, sending more aches through Arthur’s chest.

“You wouldn’t say that—“ he gasps— “you wouldn’t say that if you knew the truth.”

“And what truth is that?”

“That—that I—“ Merlin’s breaths start to ring in the chamber— “I—I—“

“That you have magic?”

Merlin’s head jerks around to stare at Arthur. Arthur raises his hands and takes a step closer. Merlin flinches.

“It’s alright, Merlin,” Arthur says softly, “I’m not angry. I’m not going to hurt you. You have magic, though, right?”

“Yes—yes, I—but I’ve only ever used it for—for you Arthur, I—“

“Easy,” he soothes, fighting the urge to reach out and pull him close, “I know. It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not,” Merlin all but whimpers, “it’s not okay, it’s bad, it’s bad and I’m bad, I’m bad—“

“You’re not.”

“I am!”

Merlin yanks his arms to his sides, curling them tightly around himself, much to the protest of the knights. His fingers whiten as he clutches the sides of his tunic.

“I’m bad, bad people get hurt, you don’t—you don’t touch bad people.”

“Merlin,” Arthur breaks in softly, “Merlin, sweetheart, I’m going to come over to you.”

He can hear the quickly stifled gasps and Gwaine’s ‘oh shit’ as he inches towards Merlin. The poor man doesn’t move, but the tremors get worse and worse the closer Arthur gets.

“I’m right here,” he murmurs, “I won’t hurt you, sweetheart, do you believe me? That I won’t hurt you?”

“I—I—“

“Because I won’t,” he promises, still fighting the urge to swoop the poor thing into a hug, “I’ll never hurt you, sweetheart.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not bad, Merlin, and you certainly don’t deserve to be hurt.”

“You don’t know that,” comes the strangled whisper, “you don’t know what I’ve done.”

“But I know you, Merlin,” Arthur murmurs, “and that’s enough.”

He can’t stop the concerned noise at Merlin’s huff of disbelief.

“It’s enough, sweetheart, it’s—hey! Easy, easy,” he soothes as Merlin’s knees buckle and he catches him before he can hit the ground, “I’ve got you, shh, shh, you’re alright.”

“Oh,” Lancelot murmurs as Merlin starts to shiver terribly, “oh, Merlin, you’re touch starved.”

“Touch starved?”

“He’s not been touched for a very long time,” Lancelot murmurs, hustling to join them on the floor, scooping Merlin’s legs into his lap, “and so he’s not used to it, but he needs it.”

“We all need touch?”

“Yes, otherwise our bodies get…unhappy.” Lancelot shakes his head. “I’m sure Gaius could explain it more. The short version is humans aren’t built to hold each other at arm’s length.”

Arthur tightens his grip on the lapful of shaking Merlin he has. There’s a cold nose buried in the crook of his neck, arms looping awkwardly around his shoulders. Distantly, he hears the scufflings of the other knights as they move closer.

“We’ve got you, sweetheart,” he fins himself whispering, “we’ve got you, we won’t hurt you, you’re safe, you’re good, we have you, it’s alright, now…”

Poor Merlin is still shuddering terribly.

“Shh, shh, easy, just try and relax, we have you…”

Since when has Merlin been this cold?

“Oh, I’m definitely hugging you every day,” Gwaine mutters, helping to prop Merlin up away from the table.

“Why—“ Merlin swallows— “why are you all so warm?”

“You’re cold,” Arthur says, “we’re helping.”

“I’m—I’m—what is it? Touch—touch—“

“Touch starved,” Lancelot offers gently, “yes, Merlin.”

“You’re helping?”

Gwaine shifts behind him. “We’re helping.”

“You’re not…mad?”

“No, Merlin, we’re not mad.”

“I’m not bad?”

Arthur tightens his grip. “Never, Merlin.”

“You—I can—I can stay?”

“Yes, Merlin,” comes the chorus of knights, “for as long as you like.”

Arthur is still upset, very confused, and more than a little overprotective right now.

But so is Merlin.

And they’re…they’re starting to figure it out.

One thing’s for sure: Arthur’s definitely pulling Merlin into bed to cuddle with him instead of getting up in the morning.

[thatblackboianarchist]

Giftedness is a Spook

I personally think giftedness is a stupid concept. Basically, it’s the idea that certain children, so folks under the age of 18, are “smarter” in some general or abstract sense than others, or more competent, more talented, more skilled, “better thinkers”, whatever. This concept originated pretty much in the 19th and 20th centuries, where we began consolidating under the “intelligence” label and categorizing people based on “how smart” and “how dumb” they are. There is a lot of baggage associated with the term giftedness, a lot of it historical and bigoted, so let’s investigate and such.

The most used definition of giftedness is having an IQ score above 130, or two standard deviations above the mean of 100. Though this historical definition has faced lots of criticism, since it is clearly possible to have superior ability in some domain without having a conventionally high IQ score, such as in the arts, or debating and public speaking, or sports, or chess, or really anything really.

Due to the fact that the “IQ above 130” definition of giftedness falls short of actually capturing all high-achieving children, most modern gifted education programmes no longer use this as the sole indicator of giftedness, and rather adopt a more multidisciplinary approach. Now, most simply look for superior skill or talent in one or more key areas, which can be art, or sports, or leadership, and attempt to cultivate that, as well as looking for people with a generally higher IQ than the average in their age group.

The issue with this approach is that it views giftedness as some sort of intrinsic, fully general, conserved property that is only found in certain sects of the population, and thus categorizes people into “gifted” and “non-gifted”. This categorization falls short in part due to the existence of “twice-exceptional” students, who are gifted in one area, but require unique accommodations in other areas. So it appears that it is possible to be “gifted” and “non-gifted” at the same time, so just how useful is this concept?

What’s more, giftedness often focuses on general cognitive traits, such as gifted children have greater white matter density, or faster information processing speed, or hear sounds faster, or think more critically, but from my perspective, these just seem to be variations in human characteristics, in the same way that some children are taller than others or start puberty earlier than others. Everyone develops at their own pace and there are plenty of people who develop out of the norm, especially since concepts of child development almost always exclude neurodivergent children and their different cognitive and psychosocial milestones.

And they are not necessarily NATURAL or inevitable variations in human characteristics either. All the traits associated with intelligence - information processing speed, critical thinking, white and grey matter density, working memory capacity, creativity, executive functions, enhanced senses - are heavily influenced by societal factors.

For instance, a child that has been well-fed since birth is obviously going to have a more developed brain with a higher capacity for all those things than a child that has suffered chronic hunger. A child that receives nurturing and good parents is going to have a more developed brain a child that receives abusive and neglectful parents. A child that grows up in a war zone is going to be different cognitively and intellectually than a child that grows up in a relatively peaceful location.

And those developmental consequences aren’t always natural in the sense that they are innate, they are artificial, engineered by politicians, corporations, and a society that absolutely refuses to take the suffering of children seriously. Yet the children who have been disadvantaged by this abusive society are unlikely to be categorized as gifted. These children show lower scores on IQ tests and the school system thinks they’re dumb, or worse “average”. These children don’t show superior performance in any particular area, there must be something wrong with them, they’re not “special” like these gifted kids other here. They don’t need special help, they just have to follow the curriculum for the regular or the *gasp* dumb kids, geta 9-to-5 job, and wait 50 years to retire, they won’t be these gifted kids that change the world.

LAME. This is lame. This is the wrong way to think about the differences that exist between children. And what’s worse, it’s so definite and unchanging, as if the traits associated with intelligence cannot be changed. As if we can’t help children with their working memory capacity, or their creativity, or their critical thinking, or their executive functions. As if we can’t help children find something they enjoy and let them cultivate that activity. These are all skills that can be taught, but they aren’t taught at all. We just let the bell curve “form naturally” and then take the kids on the right-half of it and label them “gifted” and then discard the rest, even though we are capable of teaching them those skills.

Giftedness promotes two unhealthy narratives: (1) being average isn’t good enough and (2) being below average is bad. With regards to (1) and (2), it completely ignores all of the facets of a good life, or what can be a good life. In my view, a good life is one that you enjoy and are proud of. Where you have strong relationships with others, actual freedom and control over your life, where you have things that you’re good at or enjoy doing, where you are proud of what you’ve accomplished. It has nothing to do with “having a higher working memory capacity” what the fuck?

There is value in being “average” or “mediocre” or “below average” or “stupid”. You can still produce art that people enjoy. You can still be a good athlete. You can still get really good at a specific area of academia. You can still be a competent engineer. You can still connect with others and mean something to them. You can still travel the world, drink wine condescendingly, and have a good time meeting people and seeing things. You can still contribute to society, and you can even make innovations that change it, but you don’t have to make a “significant contribution” to a worthy member of society. You can still care about others. You already change society, just by being part of it, and that is enough.

Focus on the experiences you want to have, the relationships you want to build, and the skills you want to learn, not on “I want to be smarter” or “I want to have better memory” or “I want to be the best”. It’s okay to want to be smarter, or to have better memory, or even to be the best at something (since it’s not possible to be the best at EVERYTHING), but those things are relative.

When you become “smarter” at something, or the “best” or just better, at some specific domain, you will find that all the traits associated with intelligence tend to increase with regard to that specific domain. For example, when you get better at chess, you develop better problem-solving skills associated with chess, or more critical thinking in regards to games, or better memory for recalling chess piece arrangements or movement formation or techniques, or faster information processing speed in regards to processing your opponent’s and your own moves, or better “chess logic” or “chess reasoning skills”, or the ability to understand and reason about chess on it’s own.

Intelligence is relative and domain-specific, the superior memory you would develop in chess won’t cross over to, say, memorizing decks of cards, or generalize into just having a superior memory for all things. That’s not how human brains work, they are highly specific and skill-oriented. So when you focus on becoming “smarter in general”, you are essentially setting an impossible goal, because it’s not specific enough for you brain to be able to systemically learn and apply it. You have to be specific if you want to make any progress, after all, and this applies to our constructs of giftedness.

We have to be specific! We have to let children choose their interests and hobbies and help them develop natural talents, as well as explore their interests and help them reach a suitable level of competence, where suitability is determined by THEM, the child. When you let them develop interests and hobbies of their own choosing, they naturally will get “smarter” in that area, you know, better working memory and stuff in that regard.

And even if they don’t reach expert levels of performance, or perform averagely or even below average, it doesn’t really matter, since it’s not something they need to be an expert in. For knowledge that is universally relevant, like comprehensive sexual education, you should work on ensuring that your average is a high standard. But if the piece of knowledge or skill doesn’t meet “nigh-universally relevant” or “necessary to function in this society”, then who cares how will people learn it? Especially since they can always come back in the future and re-learn it, or improve on it.

We also have to address child suffering and ensure that all children have good and strong support networks, are well-fed, have medical care, are free from abuse, etc. This makes it easier for them to actually have the time, energy, and cognitive capacity to choose their own interests and hobbies, AND work at them. It also helps them make relationships, explore, learn, and make a good life for themselves.

Also, a quick note. Interests are just things that you like to do or have a feeling for; hobbies are recreational pursuits that you actively engage in. So, an interest can be looking at pictures of castles online, a hobby can be actively seeing castles in person. It’s more or less an arbitrary distinction, but I like to use them in tandem to cover all the bases.

[writingblock101]

Waffles or Pancakes? (Tim Drake x Reader)

Miss me? More explanation at the bottom. Enjoy this vent fic! 

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,600

Tags: @idkmanicantenglish @mayahoelland2013

You pick up a stone, fiddling with it in your hand. You don’t have daddy issues. The complicated relationship with your father doesn’t run that deep, and it definitely isn’t some kink… but there are a lot of unresolved problems threatening to boil over the surface. 

Complicated relationship...More like lack thereof. You suppose that’s what happens when you have divorced parents, and you only see your dad every other weekend. Then other shit happens, he marries the wrong woman, you get older and more involved in your own life, and there’s not much effort on either side. You suppose that’s the origin of most of these problems, but you’re not the adult in this situation, dammit! 

You throw the rock in frustration, watching it disappear off the side of the building, then a puddle of dread pools in your stomach. You’re on top of a building, and pedestrians are walking below, minding their own business. Sure, it may be close to 3 a.m. in Gotham, but still! Your actions have consequences. 

You rush to the side of the building to make sure you didn’t bodily injure some random person, only to look down and see empty streets. Your pebble most likely joined another heap of loose asphalt. Plopping down heavily onto the ledge of the apartment building, you stare into the streets below and idly wonder if Batman and Robin are patrolling. When do they ever sleep? Do they sleep? 

You should be asleep, and you know it. You said good night to the friend you were messaging over an hour ago, but instead of rolling over and passing out, your mind wandered to your family, specifically your father. Probably because you’re going to be seeing him in a few days for the holidays. It’s not exactly dread. Your father is a very loving man who loves you very much, but it never felt like he put effort into your relationship. Of course, it wasn’t until you were older that you realized how little effort he genuinely put in. As a child, you strived for his love, his approval, his interest. That’s what you really wanted. You knew he loved you and was so proud of you, but you also knew he was never truly interested in you or your life. And that stung. 

So now, instead of ever bringing up your dad during therapy, you’re sitting on a roof, throwing rocks into the abyss, and getting teary-eyed over arguments that will never happen. 

“Care for some company?” A voice startles you. 

You turn to see Red Robin of all people, standing a few feet away and looking as non-threatening as possible. You shrug and gesture to the ledge. 

“Plenty of ledge here for the both of us. Besides, I’m sure you could teach me a few things about perching on tall buildings.” 

Red Robin chuckles and moves to the edge of the building. He tosses his legs over the side, sitting a foot away from you, and stares out on the city. You wonder what he sees when he looks on the city. He, Batman, Robin, and Red Hood protect Gotham for whatever reason. You’re not sure this cesspool deserves it, but apparently, they see something in it. 

“I wasn’t going to jump,” You tell him. 

“I didn’t think you were,” He responds simply. 

“I’m not suicidal,” You plow ahead. “I don’t want to die, but I kept spiraling the longer I laid in bed.” 

Red Robin nods along, like he gets it, like he understands. And maybe he does. You suppose despite all the rumors about the Bats, they probably are normal humans under those cowls and masks. Humans with a deathwish, but at this point, who isn’t? 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He offers quietly. 

“With you?” You raise an eyebrow. 

Red Robin pretends to look around the empty rooftop. 

“Well, unless you’re seeing someone that I’m not, then yeah, with me.” 

He chuckles at his own joke, and silence falls between you two again. 

“I know it’s weird,” Red Robin admits. “To talk about something that’s probably really personal with a total stranger, but I’d figure I’d offer. Talking… It helps. So if you don’t talk to me, you should think about talking to someone.” 

You pause, mulling over his words. You don’t know Red Robin. You’re pretty sure Red Robin doesn’t know you. But why would he want to listen to some pity party at 3 am on some random apartment rooftop? Surely, he has better things to do. 

But he sat down. He offered. He’s making an effort. 

That’s more than some people can say. 

You sigh heavily, your shoulders slumping. 

“It’s my dad,” You finally admit. “We’ve always had a… complicated relationship. It’s not that he doesn’t love me-- he very clearly does. He’s always been a very affectionate man, but… it feels like he was never really interested in my life. Not in a malicious way, but in an oblivious way. And when it was happening before my eyes, I was a kid, so I didn’t see it, but now being older… It’s more obvious. It’s so clear that he doesn’t know me… And it stings.” 

Red Robin listens patiently, nodding along with your words. He says nothing, letting you speak. 

“And in my head, I keep bringing up things that happened years ago that still bother me so much, but it was so many years ago. He probably doesn’t remember because he doesn’t think they’re significant moments, you know? It’s things he said in passing that he doesn’t think of as hurtful that left… Much deeper marks than I’m willing to admit.”

You sigh, scrubbing your face in frustration at the burning in your eyes. You don’t want to cry. You don’t like crying. You don’t care if you need to cry-- you cried earlier, and now, you’re not going to cry in front of Red Robin about your damn daddy issues (okay, maybe they are daddy issues, but you’re sure as hell not going to be calling anyone “daddy” in the bedroom). 

“I just… I’m tired. I’m tired of trying to put effort into a relationship that he doesn’t seem to want to put effort into. And the thing is, I doubt he even realizes that he’s doing it! If I talked to him, I’m sure we could figure something out, but… I’m not sure I want to… I love my dad very much, and I know he loves me… But I don’t think I like him.” 

Right as the words pass your lips, you feel instant regret seize your chest. 

“Oh, God, does that make me a bad person?” You bury your face in your hands, fighting back the watering in your eyes. “He’s such a loving man. He’s a damn bleeding heart, and I know if he heard me say that, it would break his heart!” 

The thought alone sends tears spilling over onto your cheeks. You love your dad, you don’t want to see him heartbroken, but it’s getting harder to ignore your own bruises. 

Red Robin scoots closer to you, rubbing your back soothingly. 

“No, it doesn’t make you a bad person,” He tells you softly. “It sounds like you’re really hurt. While we can love our family, it’s hard to like someone who’s brought you so much pain.” 

“But he… He’s so sweet,” You sob, taking a stuttering breath. “He’s one of the most loving people I’ve ever met.” 

“But that doesn’t mean he can’t hurt you,” Red Robin tells you gently. 

The tears well up in your eyes again, and you give up trying to make any sense of your thoughts. Instead, you let the tears fall. Red Robin pulls in arm around your shoulders, rubbing your arm as you lean against him and silently cry. 

You two sit there in silence for what must be an hour before you finally sit up and rub your face. 

“Well, that’s certainly not how I expected this to go,” You admit sheepishly, wiping your face. “Sorry for making you listen to my dumb sob story.” 

“I’ve been there,” Red Robin offers a tissue that he produced from somewhere on his suit. “It’s not dumb. Having someone who will listen makes all the difference.” 

“Thanks,” You say softly, offering a watery smile as you blow your nose and finish wiping your face off. 

“Are you hungry?” He offers. 

“Hungry?” 

Red Robin shrugs. 

“Crying takes it out of you. And it sounds like you’ve had a long night. How about some 4 am breakfast?” 

“But I don’t have my wallet,” You dumbly state as if not having a wallet is the only issue with his proposal. 

Red Robin waves you off. 

“It’s my treat.” 

You look down at your clothes: sneakers, mismatching socks, stained sweatpants, an old sleep shirt, and the first jacket you could find in your room, which was a jean jacket. 

“You look fine,” He assures you. “Besides, it’s 4 am. If anything, you fit the vibe more than I do.” 

You giggle at that, grimacing at how tight your face feels from the crying and the snot dripping from your nose. Wiping your nose with your sleeve, you glance around the rooftop. 

“How are we going to get there? I don’t have a car.” 

Red Robin pulls what looks to be a grappling hook from his side. 

“I have an idea. But I have one important question before we proceed.” 

You look at him warily. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks. 

And considering you just cried on his shoulder for the past hour and info dumped a small piece of your tragic backstory, you suppose you kind of do.

“Yeah,” You tell him. 

“Great,” He smiles. “That wasn’t the important question, but that was needed information. Get on my back.” 

You blink at him. 

“Um. What?” 

“Get on my back,” Red Robin repeats like it’s the most simple thing in the world. “I’m going to swing us to a breakfast place,” He waves his grappling hook.

“Um.” 

“You said you trust me,” Red Robin reminds you. 

And you suppose you did say that, didn’t you? He does this just about every night, he can keep you safe… Hopefully. 

Red Robin bends down so you can hop onto his back. Once he’s sure you’re securely situated with your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, Red Robin climbs up on the ledge of the apartment. Your grip tightens as he stands dangerously close to the edge. 

“Wait,” You say before he jumps. 

Red Robin turns his head in acknowledgment. 

“What was the important question?” 

He grins at you. 

“Waffles or pancakes?” 

“What?” 

“Waffles or pancakes?” Red Robin repeats like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“That was your important question?” You shake your head in disbelief. 

“It is an important question,” He insists. 

You pause for a moment, pondering your answer. 

“Pancakes,” You say decisively. 

“Good answer,” Red Robin grins, then steps off the building. 

For a moment, your breath is stuck in your throat as everything tenses, bracing for impact. Then, there’s a tugging—something dragging you away from the ground in a long arch. You tear your eyes away from the ground to see Red Robin almost effortlessly swinging with his grappling hook. Every shot is perfectly timed and calculated. It looks like second nature at this point, and it makes you wonder how long Red Robin has been doing this. Who is Red Robin under the cowl?

Eventually, you land in front of a mom and pop dinner which advertises 24/7 breakfast. 

“It doesn’t look like much, but this place has the best pancakes,” Red Robin promises as you slide off his back. 

You shrug, looking up at the old sign and well-loved booths inside. 

“Like you said, it fits the vibe.” 

Red Robin grins and opens the door for you. He directs you to a booth in the back. An older waitress comes by your table holding two mugs and a pot of coffee.

“Hey, Red,” She greets, looking tired but friendly. “Who’s your friend?” 

Red Robin glances over at you with a small smile. 

“A fellow pancake lover.” 

The waitress chuckles as she pours him a cup of coffee. 

“Coffee?” She offers you. 

“Uh, sure,” You’re doubtful that you’ll drink it since pulling an all-nighter sounds less than ideal but holding something warm sounds nice. 

“So, a stack of pancakes for both of you then?” The waitress asks, not bothering to write down the simple order. 

“That sounds great, Brooke,” Red Robin smiles. 

“Sure thing,” Brooke heads back to the kitchen to place the order, leaving you at the table with Red Robin. 

You blow on your hot coffee and wrap your fingers around the mug, enjoying the heat. 

“Alright, another important question for you,” Red Robin begins as he adds sugar and cream to his coffee. 

You smile, ready for this all-important question with rapt attention. 

“Acceptable toppings on pancakes?” 

Midway through your heated debate about which fruits are acceptable to top pancakes with (“Oh, so pineapple can go on pizza, but it can’t go on pancakes?!”), Brooke drops off two stacks of fluffy, golden brown pancakes. While Red Robin is wrong about pancake toppings, he wasn’t lying about these pancakes being delicious.

“Okay,” You say through a mouthful of heavenly pancake. “These pancakes are delicious, but I cannot fathom the thought of you ruining them with Miracle Whip.” 

“It sounds weird, I know,” Red Robin admits, opting to dunk his pancakes in syrup only, thank God. “But trust me.” 

“Miracle Whip,” You repeat. “Like the substitute for mayonnaise.” 

“It’s sweeter than mayo!” Red Robin argues. “It’s like a sweet cream on pancakes.” 

“I think you’ve had one too many concussions.” 

“Oh, really?” You’re sure that Red Robin is raising his eyebrows at you under his cowl, judging by the look on his face. “So, what’s your excuse for orange juice and chocolate chip cookies?” 

“Okay listen,” You point your fork at him. “I never said it was my idea. A friend made me try it, and it wasn’t the worst thing in the world!” 

“How can you question my judgment about Miracle Whip on pancakes when you eat orange juice with your cookies?!” 

“It’s not that different from drinking a glass of orange juice while eating a chocolate chip pancake!” 

“Yes, it absolutely is!” 

By the time you two have your fill of pancakes, coffee, and arguing, it’s close to five am. Red Robin drops you off on your apartment rooftop. 

“Thanks for the pancakes,” You smile, sliding off his back. “You’re right. I did need that.” 

“Helping is what we do,” He shrugs with a small smile. 

“If only someone could help your taste buds.” 

Red Robin laughs then shakes his head. 

“If you think mine are bad, you should see some of the things my siblings eat.” 

“There’s more of you?” You toss your head back dramatically. “What kind of cursed bloodline do you come from?!” 

Red Robin grins. 

“A diverse one,” He answers vaguely. 

“Seriously,” You tell him, sobering up. “Thank you.” 

“Anytime. If you ever need someone to talk to, go to the roof. I’ll be there,” Red Robin promises. 

“Thanks,” You say softly, then you kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you around, Red.” 

He’s frozen for a moment, then a smile stretches across his face. 

“See you around,” He solutes, then disappears into the night like the bat he is. 

You smile to yourself and walk back to your apartment. Some sleep sounds pretty good now…

So, hey guys! It’s been a minute... 4 months to be exact... Sorry about that. I’m not dead! Just in college. I just finished an 18 credit semester so I’ve been busy and tired. Next semester will not be better. It’s suppose to be my hardest semester of nursing school, so that’s great. I am hoping over break to work through some of my requests. I think to help I’m going to try to make them shorter. I also might delete some, so if yours gets deleted, I’m sorry. Eventually request will open again and you’ll be able to request, but as of now, I’m just trying to get content out and some of the things on the upcoming don’t really do it for me. Anyways, I’ve missed y’all and I’m sorry for the wait. Thank you for being patient, you guys are the best and I hope you enjoyed this vent fic! 

[littlemessyjessi]

“Pamper”: A Sirius Black Imagine:  Plus Size Reader

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Sirius Black Imagine Sirius Black x reader: PS Reader, Plus Size Reader

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Sirius Black narrowed his eyes at the sight before him.

His best mate of since first year and his girlfriend of just over a year sat there practically giggling together.

You'd always got on well with the boys but it would seem that over the last week or so you and James had decided to become the best of friends.

At first, Sirius had found it comical when he'd walked in and James was letting you paint his fingernails because you'd been kinda sad that day.

He knew his best mate was a good guy and he genuinely did like to see most people happy.

Especially if they were important to him and the one's he cared about it.

So Sirius hadn't really thought much else of it.

However, the next day he'd walked in his dorm to find the two of you again, laid back in his bed, eyes closed as your faces were covered in a bright blue face mask.

Sirius had teased the both of you for it relentlessly and honestly hadn't thought too much of it.

James had had a rather nasty pimple that day anyway and everyone around knew that you knew all the tips and tricks for anything beauty related.

"It's a muggle trick but I swear by it." you had told him.  "Toothpaste on it at night to bring it to a head.  Gently, and I can not stress this enough, Jamie love, GENTLY pop it the next morning.  Clean it and immediately begin moisturizing.  If you don't it'll scar." you had told him and he had nodded with rapt attention.

Sirius who knew you know your stuff very well didn't question it but that little nickname had turned his stomach just a tad.

Jamie, love.

He didn't know why it bothered him so much but it had.

The next day, he'd literally nearly had an anuerism when he found you sat across James' lap as he let you put makeup on him.

He refused to say anything and had to force a smile when you turned James' made up face to him.

"Isn't he stunning, love?" you'd asked him.

He hadn't said anything and James fluttered his newly mascara coated eyelashes at him.

"I just knew this would turn out great." you had said. "You've got lovely eyes, Jamie, love.  And great lashes!"

Sirius physically twitched at that name again and he'd drawn everyone's attention to himself when he literally stomped up the stairs to the dorm.

You tried to see him later on that night- even retrieve him for the evening meal but he wasn't having it and made Remus tell you that he wasn't feeling well and wanted to sleep.

You knew this to be a lie because even if he wasn't feeling well the first thing he'd do is actually make one of them find you to cuddle and coddle him until he felt better.

It's just the way he was and you wouldn't trade it for the world.

You were a bit put out for the rest of the night and worried after him but you knew him well enough to know that you couldn't push him.

He'd freak out if you did and so you just waited for him to come to you.

Decided not to draw attention to it and just let it go ... for now.

So needless to say... that morning you carried on as usual, perhaps even a little chipper because the pictures you'd taken of James had officially finished developing.

Loads of photographs of him prancing around in his full face of makeup wearing your clothes and being the drama queen he is.

You rushed the Great Hall and practically tackled him.

"'Ello, there, love." James had chuckled at you when you excited produced the pictures and the two of you laughed at the silly little adventure.

Meanwhile, Sirius' blood continued to boil as he sat across from the two of you.

So much so, in fact, that his face had begun to change colors.

It eventually gained your attention and you looked at him alarmed, "Siri, love, are you ok? You don't look so good, ba-"

"No, apparently not!" he snapped.  

Your eyes widened at his outburst.

Sirius had never raised his voice at you.

He was rarely snippy with you because you always gave him the space he needed and then doted on him when he was ready.

So to have him so angry and it seemingly directed at you, threw you a little.

"Hey, Pads, what's wrong?" James said.

"Oh, you shut it!" he snapped at him and James lifted his brows at him. "I don't know what's worse. The fact that my girl is after my best mate or that my best mate is after my girl."  

"Excuse me?" you gasped.  "What on earth are you on about?"

"Oh come off it!" he seethed, seemingly unaware that he had gained most of the hall's attention.  "You were literally in his bed the other day! In his lap after that!"

"That's out of context, Sirius and you know it!" you said, offended that he would even insinuate such a thing.

"You know, everyone gave me hell about dating you." he said venomously.  "Said I could never settle down and get with a good girl like you. Doesn't look like I'm the one who couldn't settle down does it?"

The boys just stared at him... along with just about everyone else.

You leveled Sirius with a look that he had never seen grace your angelic features and for a moment he knew he fucked up.

For a second, he thought you were going to cry but you simply lifted your chin.

"Sirius, I love you but you are being really, really stupid and mean right now." you said and he narrowed his eyes.

He opened to his mouth to say something but you cut him off-

"No, don't you even.  You just shut your mouth." you snapped and he flinched.

You never talked to him that way.

Ever.

You'd only ever been so sweet to him, even long before either of you had expressed an interest in each other.

"I love you." you said. "This is about as obvious as the fact that Lily is a redhead.  And don't you think that it would be nice when you love someone to get to know those that are important to them a little better?"

Sirius just stared at her and she shook her head.

"I've always got on well with the boys.  Remus and I have been fairly close since third year and after Peter started dating my sister, we learned alot about each other.  The only person who I didn't have an extremely close bond with was James.  Which is exactly the person that I wanted to because he means so much to you.  He's your best mate.  He's like your brother.  He's important to you and you're important to me... therefore HE'S important to me."

Sirius' jaw tightened as things began to click into place.

"And yes, we have been spending a lot of time together."  you said.  "We've invited you multiple times because I didn't want you to have to juggle spending time with me versus your friends.  I was trying to merge it all together.  For you.   And yes, we do have fun.   We have a lot of fun.  I don't have any brothers and my sister never let me do makeovers on her so when James didn't mind and actually enjoyed spending time with me, I jumped at the opportunity."

Sirius began to curl in on himself a little when he realized.

"Sirius, I love you." you said. "And I want those that are important to you to like me.  I want your family to like me.   And you're family isn't your last name.  I couldn't give two fucks about them.  But James and his parents are your family.  And that's important." you said taking a shaky breath.

No one said anything for a moment and you just shook your head.

"Peter." you said gaining the boys attention.  "Will you help me look for your girlfriend?  I think I need a little sister time."

Peter nodded and the two of you left the Hall... which promptly burst into whispers of gossip as soon as you did.

James gave it all of about three seconds after Sirius sat back down before he kicked the shit out of his shin.

"OW!"

"You shut it." he said reaching over and pulling Sirius in by his collar.

"Get off!"

"No, I will not." James said. "First of all, how dare you ever think I would do such a thing?  I'm your best mate and I'm obviously hopelessly in love with Lily.  Who by the way, did not seem to be phased by Y/N and us hanging out because she has some common sense."

Sirius finally shoved James off him.

"And two, I could murder you right now for even thinking that Y/N would ever hurt you." he said narrowing his hazel eyes. "You know she adores you. You're literally her favorite person in the entire world."

Sirius said nothing for  second, "I know. I'm sorry."

James just nodded, still honestly a bit miffed.

"And for the record, I enjoyed spending time with her too." James said. "I don't have any siblings.  We're like brothers now.  You, me, Remus, Pete.  But I've always been an only child.  And I certainly don't know about what it's like to have a sister.  It was fun to let her play 'dress up' on me so to speak."

"I'm sorry, Prongs." Sirius said, feeling worse by the second. "I didn't realize."

"I know you didn't." he said. "And we're fine, Pads.  But you have to know I'd never do that to you.  You're happier than I have ever seen you with Y/N.  She wanted to get closer to me for you.  And I wanted to get closer to her for you as well. It just so happened that we ended up clicking really fast.  I like spending time with her.  She's like a little sister to me now."

"Except for the fact that she's older than you." Remus said with a smirk trying to ease the tension.

"Shut it, Moony." James chuckled.

"I should go find her and apologize." Sirius sighed.

"You should definitely apologize." James said. "But I'd let her cool off a bit.  Let her talk to her sister.  You hurt her feelings and she probably doesn't want to talk to you right now."

Sirius' heart broke a little at that.

"But I have to make it up to her." he stressed.

"Oh, you're going to." James said pointedly before a smirked worked it's way onto his features making both Remus and Sirius lift an eyebrow at him.

"We're going to have a pamper night." he said matter of fact.  "Complete with facials, nails and hair styling."

"I don't let anyone touch my hair." Sirius said automatically.

It was true.

He didn't.

"You're going to let that precious angel do whatever she wants to you hair and you'll shut your trap about it." James snapped.  "Now, quit being a toad and eat your breakfast.  We've got a busy day of planning ahead."

Sirius didn't feel like eating and just poked around at his breakfast.

"And Remus, you will be participating." James said making the boy's jaw open and close.

"But I didn't-"

"I don't want to hear it." James said. "Pamper night in our dorm tonight. Now, excuse me while I figure out what we'll need."

And with that he was off to join Lily, Marlene, Alice and Dorcas to discuss the plans.

All four of them were in, of course and they spent the rest of the Saturday collecting what they'd need.

Later, that evening after a much needed cry with your sister you began to make your way towards the Great Hall for supper.

You weren't really feeling it to be honest but you knew you needed to eat so you figured you'd just get it over with and then go to bed.

Maybe tomorrow would be better.

However, you never made it there because you were intercepted almost instantly by Marlene and Dorcas who claimed that they had a fashion emergency in the dorm room.

"Guys, I'll look in a bit.  I just want to grab a quick bite and then go to bed.  But I promise I'll help you sort you fashion catastrophe in a bit." you had sighed.

"It can't wait!" Marlene had said. "I have a date tonight and I'll be late if you don't help me!"

"It really can't." Dorcas agreed and you groaned but let them drag you to the tower anyway.

As soon as you stepped foot inside you were tossed over someone's shoulder and being carried up the stairs to the boys dormitory.

After some wiggling, you discovered that it was in fact James who'd kidnapped you.

"James, listen, I love you to death and all and just cause Sirius and I got into a fight doesn't mean we'll stop hanging out but I really don't know if facials is gonna help anything right now considering."

"Oh ye of so little faith." he said with an impish look.

You simply lifted a brow at him.  "Really?"

He smiled, "Listen you've had a rough day.  So we've got a bit of a surprise for you."

"We?" you pressed and he simply yanked you into their dormitory.

You furrowed your brows at the room.

It was covered in more beauty products than you'd ever seen in your life as well as more snacks that you even thought were possible.

All four boys were there as well as the girls and in the middle, looking rather sheepish, was Sirius.

"Hey, love." he said.

You just looked at him for a moment and said, "Hey."

"Listen, I-"

"We're starting with hair masks!" James announced.

"Yep." Lily said joining his side. "So Sirius, you're first.  Y/N, wash his hair.  You're the best at it. Off with you!"

The two of you were shoved into the small room adjacent to the boys dorm and you glared at the door.

"Suddenly, I am remembering why it was a blessing that I never had a brother." you grumbled and Sirius couldn't help but chuckle.

"Eh, he has his moments." he said and his hand came up to hold you cheeks, "Baby, I'm sorry."

"I know." you said.

"And not just a sorry son of a bitch." he teased. "Although, still true."

You couldn't help but laugh and he smiled, a thumb tracing over your cheeks.

"There it is." he whispered. "My favorite thing in the whole world."

You simply looked at him for a moment and finally let out a breath, the tension easing out of you.

"I'm sorry if I made you feel left out, Sirius." you said.

He shook his head, "No, love.  I was being stupid.  I just couldn't see the forest for the trees.  What you were doing, the both of you, was really nice.  And if you and him ending up bonding and having some kind of cool brother sister moment, then that's great, baby.  Honestly.  I just got a little jealous."

You nodded and peered at him through your lashes.

Making him absolutely weak like you always did when you did that.

"Are we ok now?" you asked, softly- just a little fear trickling into your voice. "Because I love you, Siri and I don't wanna fight with you anymore. I just want us to be ok again."

He melted and cradled your cheeks in his hands, bringing your lips together in a sweet kiss.

"Of course we're ok, baby." he said, resting his forehead against yours and staring into your eyes.

"Ok." you said, a little smile tugging at your lips. "You, uh, you gonna let me wash your hair?"

He sighed and winked at you, "I guess I kinda owe you."

You grinned mischeviously and shrugged, "I mean, you don't but I want to play with your hair so I'm going to play into this and let you think that you do until I've had my fun."

He laughed and you set to work washing his long, thick locks.

His eyes rolled back as you scratched his scalp and he looked up at you from his spot on the floor by the tub as you poured water over it to wash it out.

"This does kinda feel good." he admitted.

"Yeah." you shrugged. "I know."

You gently squeezed the water from his hair and he handed you a towel but you threw it at the door aggressively.

"No!" you said, clearly offended by such a notion.

"You want me to walk around like a wet dog?" he laughed.

"No, but we can't use a towel on your hair." you said, "It'll ruin the curl pattern."

"My hair isn't really-"

"Yes it is." you said. "I know it because when you play Quidditch and you get sweaty it stays to curl.  You just brush it while it's wet with a vengeance so it doesn't show."

He lifted a brow at you again but let you wrap his hair up in an old clean t-shirt anyway.

"Don't brush when your hair is wet by the way." you said. "It can cause breakage."

"You're amazing you know that?" he said and you just nodded.

"Yes, now out with you.  Go let one of them put a mask on your face.   Be sure to let them know you want something with  honey and preferably almond oil. It will make you glow as well as other things." you said.

Sirius just smiled and pecked your cheek, "I love you."

"I love you too, lovebug." you said. "Now send James in so I can attempt to do something with his rat's nest."

Sirius barked out a laugh before sending James in and settling down for Lily to give him a face mask.

"Not a word." he said when she smirked at the pink shirt in his hair.

"I wasn't gonna say anything." the redhead smirked.

"She said to ask for something for honey and preferably almond oil.  For glowing skin or something like that." he said.

Lily smirked evilly and produced a pink face mask which made him sigh but he let her do it anyway.

Not long after, James emerged from the bathroom, hair wrapped in a purple shirt and ready to be pampered.

Dorcas approached him and he hissed at her.

"No one touches my skin but my little evil genuis." he said, yanking you along with him.

He flung himself across his bed, "Now work your magic, you skincare enchantress! My body is ready for your secrets."

"Prongs..." Sirius said with a warning but a smile still tugged at his lips.

You smiled softly and pecked Sirius' lips before turning to James and covering him in a green face mask.  

Sirius watched the two of you for a moment, cutting up as siblings would do and he realized that he was actually really happy.

Everyone he loved was in this room and having a good time together.

The love of his life and his best mate were getting on really well and he never been so at peace.

He didn't care if you wanted to dress him up as the Queen of England for the rest of his life.

He'd let you do it just to watch you laugh like that for the rest of his life.

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Hello loves! I hope you liked this little request! I had fun writing it! If you want to see more of this version of Sirius/Reader please let me know! I had such a good time writing them and also writing the sibling dynamic between James/Reader.  I hope you're all having a lovely day and I would love to hear from you in the comments/ask box!

All my love darlings!

Kenny

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Love, Kenny

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