#it makes it less overwhelming to choose a shot from a minute than a whole episode

[goatsandgangsters]

I've been asked to post my Personal Variation on how to do timestamp roulette, so!

the original premise is based on closing your eyes and wiggling your mouse back and forth over the timeline to select shots at random, which doesn't really appeal to me bc of the inherent biasing of landing more in the middle than on the ends

SO. my method for timestamp roulette is putting the number of minutes for the episode into a random number generator and going to that minute

from there, you could also RNG 0–59 for seconds if you really want it randomized. OR you could select a shot from Anywhere Within The Randomly Selected Minute Only, which I like because it still forces you to be creative with a random scene and encourages you to gif with shots you wouldn't typically use but still gives you a little bit of creative license

[heliza24]

Character arcs and themes in The Seven

I spend a lot of time in my other main fandom writing meta about dramatic structure and character development, because I’m a playwright and a writer and I can’t turn that part of my brain off even when I’m in love with a show. I haven’t seen a whole lot of meta do that for Dimension 20 yet. I think people might be a little hesitant to write meta for D20 because Actual Plays are based on improv and don’t have a single author, so it feels like a medium we can’t dig into in the same way. But I don’t think that’s true! Once the campaigns are shot and uploaded, they’re complete texts that I think deserve the same kind of loving scrutiny that we offer our other favorite TV shows. So let’s spend a minute talking about character and story structure in Dimension 20, and why I love The Seven so much. 

It’s a kind of accepted maxim that DnD shouldn’t have a main character, and I think that’s very true for home games, where the point is that each friend should be having an equal amount of fun. But I think actual plays are a little different. The fact that they are observed innately changes them (like the way that particles do when they are observed by scientists) and I think the D20 structure, where campaigns are limited to a run time akin to a long TV show, does that even more. A protagonist is traditionally the character who answers the dramatic question of a piece, which is the driving question that moves the narrative and themes of a story forward. I think a lot of D20 seasons end up having a protagonist, or character that is more intricately linked to the central questions and themes of the campaign than the others. Some DnD purists may not like that, but for me as a story nerd? It’s what makes the whole thing work. 

I think The Seven is a perfect example of this. Each one of the six PCs is so well developed. The first episode of this campaign is one of the most effective of any season I think, giving us such a great grounding in each character’s home life, and the personal conflicts that arise from it.  It kicks off Antiope’s complicated relationship with leadership, Katja’s desire to be recognized by her father, Penny’s struggle with perfectionism, Ostentatia’s complex feelings around providing for her family and keeping up with the Joneses, and the way that Danielle’s go-with-the-flow attitude has made her less likely to fight for belonging. And Sam? Sam is struggling with feelings of abandonment as she deals with a transphobic birth mother, a best friend who kidnapped her and then died, and an adopted mom who is moving away after a divorce. Sam is being overwhelmed by change in her personal life even while her friendship group threatens to break apart. And change, and how we choose to accept it or fight it, is absolutely at the core theme of The Seven. To be fair, every other character is also struggling to figure out how she feels about the change going on in the party, and that’s a core part of each girl’s journey. But most of them are balancing a personal question alongside the question of the fate of the group (for instance, Antiope has to decide if she will obey or defy her parents, and whether or not she will take the internship and remain with the party. They’re related, but they’re also distinct questions). Sam is the only character whose personal question hooks directly into the central themes of the campaign, and that sets her up perfectly to become the protagonist of the season. 

I think the dramatic question of The Seven is not, as I first thought, Is change good? But actually How do we accept change with grace? And Sam is the character who figures out how to answer this question. Persephone’s performance as Sam is out-of-this-world good. She instinctively moves towards conflict and scenes that add depth to the narrative, and her portrayal of Sam’s pettiness as a defense mechanism is alternatively hilarious and heartbreaking. Her decision to step away from the others and speak to Talura creates a thematic parallel between her and the Eidolon and creates a connection that drives the back half of the season. 

From the moment the lore became clear, I was obsessed with Brennan’s decision to parallel The Seven Maidens with seven goddesses. The Eidolons went through a similar change that the Maidens are currently going through; in order to seek a better future, they dispersed and assumed a new form. The one who cannot accept this change is the one intricately linked with change as a concept; for Talura who represents endings and death to be the one still holding on to her sisters is profound and heartbreaking. The fact that she forms a connection with Sam feels so meaningful. Sam is probably the Maiden most acquainted with change; she’s the only one of the girls who has gone through a gender transition, and the only one who has been adopted and effectively changed who her parents are. But both Sam and Talura are holding on to stability and resisting change with all their might.

I think it’s a credit to the incredible cast that even with Sam in a slightly more central role, none of the other PCs feels undeveloped. I don’t think there’s a weak link at this table, and each player had a moment where they made me laugh and cry. I love the way that Aabria acts as a leader at the table for other players and also a leader in-story as Antiope. I’m obsessed with the way that Rekha can switch seamlessly between horse girl humor and a heartwarming description of Katja’s inner child. Becca’s quick improv makes Penny so charming (and I have genuinely never laughed harder than the Laertes scene). Every spell that Erika casts as Danielle is beautiful and magical and I loved seeing her begin to assert her own desires. And Izzy is just hilarious as Ostentatia and does so much to unite the group into a cohesive party (I fucking love you!). 

The other reason that each character feels complete and whole is that they each have an opportunity to answer the questions that are set up in the first episode. The penultimate episode, when each Maiden has the chance to confront time and her own death, lets each player create a moment when their character stares down her demons and learns an important lesson. This is really a classic Brennan move, and it’s one of my favorite tricks that he does to help create a cohesive storyline that fits into the confines of the season episode number. I jokingly described it to @bluedalahorse as that inevitable point in the campaign where Brennan “looks straight into a player’s eyes and calmly asks them if their character will achieve self-actualization”.  (Also Lou totally calls Brennan out on this in Fantasy High season 2 when Brennan casually asks “so what’s your character’s greatest fear?” when they head into the Forest of the Nightmare King. “That is the most Brennan thing I’ve ever heard!” Lmao yes it is!)  Those moments are always my favorite in any season, because I can feel the oxygen get sucked out of the room as the story magic starts happening. The fact that it’s improv, and that the player may not rise to the implicit question Brennan is asking, is part of the suspense. But in The Seven I think each player knocks it out of the park, and I can’t watch that episode without fully weeping. 

Even the way the final battle goes down reinforces the theme of learning how to accept change. By a happy accident of dice and initiative order (and I, think, a slight thumb on the scales on Brennan’s part) the battle allows Sam to complete her arc and answer the dramatic question of the show. Sam uses her reaction to save Zelda from Telura’s attack, so she’s powerless when Telura launches a power word kill spell against her. After she goes down, Penny is next in initiative, and although she can’t do anything to revive Sam, is able to remind Telura that The Seven are her sisters, not unlike Telura’s own. Ostentatia is next in initiative, but Brennan has Izzy hold her turn because (I’m assuming) he wants to let Sam/Persephone hit a story beat before Ostentatia revivifies her. Instead he skips to Danielle, who has a connection to Anima, the eidolon of life, who Telura is currently partially presenting as. Danielle and Anima are able to encourage Telura to let go, and to let Sam live, before Brennan switches to a short role play moment between Sam and Telura. It makes total sense that Sam would be able to talk directly to Telura in this state between life and death since Telura is the goddess of death. Sam is able to comfort Telura in this moment and acknowledge that although she’s scared of change, she’s learned that it represents opportunity as much as it represents an ending. “Sometimes change happens,” she reassures Talura, “but it doesn’t mean it will be worse or that you can’t find joy in what happens. And if you never try you’ll never know what can be.” In that moment Sam has completed her character arc; she’s a totally different person from the girl who was desperate to keep her friends exactly as they were at the beginning of the campaign. Her new conviction convinces Talura that it is ok to let go, and to become scattered through the world as the concept of death like her sisters have already done. Ostentatia revives Sam, and Talura stops attacking.  “We can’t promise the future will never hurt,” the other eidolons tell Talura, “but we can promise that if we’re together it will be worth it.”  And that’s the real lesson of The Seven: people will grow and change, but that doesn’t mean we can’t hold each new version of our loved ones in our hearts. We can keep our friends close while still giving each other the grace to become the people we were meant to be. 

Everyone has an absolutely incredible moment in the final battle (Antiope killing Charity! Katja tripping the earth eidolon!) but the way that Sam completes her character arc is especially special to me. As a former teen girl and someone who values her friendships above everything, this lesson that we can love our friends through change is close to my heart. It’s one I keep learning over and over, and I love the way it was explored in The Seven.

[matenrou-fan]

Can we get Doppo, Rio, and Dice comforting reader who's crying please?

Doppo, Rio, and Dice comforting NB! s/o who's crying

of course!! I remember to write something similar with other characters so I decided to combine your request with it and make it as a pt.2 to that post, so it's not hc but one-shots!! hope you doesn't mind!!

NBreader, comfort, cuddles and kissing, just wholesome stuff;;

Doppo (737 words), Rio (826 words), Dice (795 words)

It was finally evening… You groan tiredly and sit on a couch, completely drained. This whole day was.. something. Things just keep bugging you out and even when you try to hold back you feel as annoyance inside you grow more and more. Your head was dizzy and you felt so small, compared to this whole cruel world, so tired and so worthless..

You look at the wall clock and sight again, knowing damn well that your boyfriend, Doppo, is gonna be late after work, probably feeling no better than you. Just why work can be so hard? Even when you tried to complete your everyday tasks everything was falling apart, everything was wrong today..!

You curled up into a ball right on the couch, not bothering yourself to change into comfy clothes and get to bed. Your whole body was too weak and you already can feel as your shoulders start trembling and eyes start stinging.. Some good old cry can make you feel better, right? Or at least you will relieve some of this stress, emotionally exhausting yourself will help you to fall asleep in five minutes..

Sniffing and crying, completely lost in your dark thoughts, you didn't hear as the front door opened and closed.

"I'm home.." - Doppo sighs tired but with a little smile on his face, as he always gets more excited when he sees you after a long day at work.

But when you don't meet him with your casual bright smile and open arms, ready to hug him tightly, he gets so worried! Quickly but clumsy he gets inside the living room just to find you crying silently all alone.

"S/o…" - he gets closer, sitting next to you, his arms that was trembling from the overwhelming feeling of worry slowly caressing your back - "S/o, are you alright..?"

It was too hard to see you like that so he took his hands away from your shoulders just to hug you tightly. He put your trembling form on his laps, and you lean closer to his chest, a little bit embarrassed to be caught like that.

"I'm sorry, Doppo, i.." - you sniff, trying to hide your red nose and puffy cheeks from his concerned gaze but he quickly shakes his head.

"No, no, don't apologize, darling..! Just tell me, are you alright?" - he felt as every beat of his heart was so deep and loud, hurting in his chest, as he already imagined too many grotesque scenarios of what happened.

When you started to talk, your voice was a little bit husky after all your crying, he was listening so carefully, every word was repeated in his head as he was thinking how he could cheer you up. His arms never leave your back, or your shoulder, or your head as he keeps stroking your whole body, trying to show all his care and love through his actions. He's here, for you! He knows how unfair life can be and your warm hugs always clear up his head, so now Doppo wants to pay back. After all, you're his precious darling and he never wants to see you cry..!

"..s/o.. please, don't be sad..! I will always be here for you, and I will help you to fight all these troubles! I know I always tell the opposite about my life but please, there's so many things that can make you happy..!" - he smiled, a little bit awkwardly, as it was hard for him to find the right words.. If he could just open his chest and warm you up with all that love and care that he doesn't know how to unleash..!

"..I will make dinner for you today, darling! You can choose your favorite movie while I'm cooking, so we can watch it together, okay?" - his smiles grow wider when you nod, the sigh of your weak smile makes him feel less worried, as he slowly and carefully puts you back on a couch. Doppo quickly runs to the bedroom and brings you a soft blanket and then a cup of water.

"Here.. call me if you need something, okay? I'm right here, on a kitchen..!" - he kisses your forehead, wiping the last small tears with his thumbs from your blushing face - "And don't think about anything bad today, okay? I, as your boyfriend, will deal with all your worries, okay? Just believe in me ♡"

You sigh through your teeth as you hold his hand, you two were just walking near his tent. Why can't you just smile, why did your mood decide to be like that exactly today?! Rio looks so happy when showing you some of his favorite places, you just can't ruin everything..

Such a good, quiet night in the forest with your boyfriend, what can go wrong? Well.. nothing, actually, as Rio was not only a former soldier but also a great caring partner, so he's always been providing you with the safest and cutest dates, but.. But the problem was you today, as your mood was at rock bottom.

"S/o.." - his deep voice makes you shrug as you didn't expect him to call your name. You gulp and look at him, trying to act as always but your heart skips a beat as you notice his serious look - "Is something bothering you?"

Rio was not a fool. Despite he is no longer serving in the army his skills are still ideal and he can easily read any changes in your behavior. But also, as your loyal boyfriend, he can see that you feel bad even when you smile.

You sigh, wanting to shrug it off and just tell him that you're tired, but a sudden wave of tears hits your eyes. No matter how hard you try to forget about all the bad things they just kept bugging you today and your soul finally breaks.

Without a word, Rio quickly grabbed your trembling form and carried you back to his tent, where he put you on his bed and sat next to you. He embraces you, his big arms around your body like a shield, as he tries to put all his love in this tight hug.

"You want to talk about it..?" - he asks gently after a few moments, looking right into your eyes with such a worried expression. Rio always gets much more emotional around you and now you can see so much care in this puppy eyes as he does not look away even for a second. Every tear of yours hurt his soul and he was ready to fight anyone who caused even a small pain to you. But before that he needed to calm you down, as you were ready to speak.

He was listening to you without any words, still holding you as close as he could. You nuzzled to his chest and now heard his heartbeat, as this sound soothes you a little. It felt like a big plush bear hugging you and listening to all your problems so you just closed your eyes and let your mind speak, releasing all stress that you had.

When you finished, Rio was silent for a moment, as if he was waiting for you to suddenly continue, but then he touched your face with his warm big hand, making you look at him.

"Dear s/o.. I'm glad that you told me all of that. Please, remember that you always can ask me to listen to you, I will never say 'no' to you, okay..?" - he was stroking your cheek gently, his voice so gentle and affectionate - "On my word as a soldier, I promise you to find a way to solve all your problems.."

You just nod and nuzzle back to his big body, you feel so protected under his touches. Warmth of his arms that keep caressing your back makes you feel butterflies tickle inside your chest.

"Want some tea? I made this with flowers from that meadow I showed you last week, they can help you to feel better.." - this offer was really tempting as Rio's herbal tea was always really good and tasty. You nod and slowly release yourself from his hug, sighing a little disappointed.

He noticed this and chuckled, you're just so cute and precious even when you're sad. Without wasting a minute he prepares you a tea and returns to his bed with a warm cup, a light smell of sweet petals hits your nose. As you take this drink he hugs you again.

"Here.. We can spend the whole evening just in bed today, if you want. I won't let you go for another minute now.." - he spoke with a soft smile, patting your head while you drink slowly, hot tea refreshing your mind and soothing your body..

You feel dizzy after all that crying, and the nearness of Rio's warm body makes you so sleepy.. So you just nod and hug him back, leaving an empty cup on a bedside table, as you two lay down together, cuddling and sharing soft slow kisses.

"You feel better?" - your boyfriend asks quietly after kissing your cheek - "I'm always willing to do anything for you, anything, so you will feel better. Always remember that, darling.. There's no one who would be that close to me as you, and I want you to know that..♡"

You whine as you look at the clock, it was almost the time for your boyfriend, Dice, to come. You two planned to meet today for a long time, and you were really looking forward to this little date, but when you woke up this morning.. you just know this whole day would go wrong. Your mood was so bad and you don't even know how to cheer you up.. And now you were sitting here, already tired and just wishing for this day to finally end.

You take your phone and open the messenger to text Dice to not come, as you felt bad. But as soon as you send this text your phone immediately starts ringing. You look at the screen with a confused look because it was a call from your boyfriend.

"Hey!! What do you mean I can't come today?! I'm almost here..!" - after those words you hear a sudden knock on the door. Still confused, you dropped the call and got closer to the front door, just to open it and see your boyfriend Dice standing here with furrowed brows and a little blush on his cheeks.

"No, I didn't arrive too early and stood here all this time because I didn't know what to do, if you wanna know!!" - he scoffs and opens his eyes. But as soon as he sees your sad tired face his goofy behavior goes away and he quickly runs inside your house.

He grabs your arms, so tightly as if he was afraid you will fade away, his gaze so worried as he tries to understand at least something in your red eyes. Is someone bullying you? Or you get hurt yourself? Or do you have some real problems? Or-

"Tell me, s/o, what happened..!?" - he just can't handle something like that, hugging you right here, in the corridor, and dragging you like this back to the couch. His sudden hug surprised you but you just hugged him back, this care of him was so.. clumsy but sincere, it touched your already too sensitive soul. You nuzzled his neck while he was leading you to the living room, feeling little tears forming in your eyes.

But when he looked again at your face, when you two sat down, he noticed that you started crying and got even more scared.

"W.. wait..! I'm sorry, I didn't want to be rude or something..! I can leave if you want, just tell me what's wrong…" - Dice was almost ready to drop on his knees. He just loves to see you smiling and laughing with him, and when you like that, sad and hurted.. It broke his heart much harder than any unlucky pull in the casino would ever have.

You shake your head, slowly taking his hands in your trembling one.

"No, please, stay.. I just.." - you lean closer, snuggle to his shoulder and he immediately hugs you again, holding tightly and mumbling softly.

"Sh.. I'm here, here.." - he kept calming you down, his voice so unusually silent and soft, as he became too sensitive now, almost crying himself.

When you finally start venting about your day and how everything was just awful, he listens without saying a word, letting you push all this stress from your chest. His hands play with your hair as he cradles you gently, noticing how your voice becomes more and more relaxed and you start sniffing less often. He was watching your eyes closely, every little reaction in your face did not go unnoticed. So when you silent and look up at him he immediately kisses your forehead, squeezing you in his hug.

"S/o..! Why didn't you tell me before?! I would have come even earlier to cheer you up..! You know, you can always tell me anything that's bothering you, huh.." - he mumbled, a little bit shyly. After all, he's an airheaded gambler, does his words actually sound reassuring? Well, if not, he would prove them with his actions!

"Here.." - he takes your arms in this, touching your forehead with his own - "This week I was feeling extra lucky and planned to spend whole weekends in a casino, but.. I will give you all the luck that I saved up so you will feel better.."

Dice close his eyes and kiss you softly, such a light and tender touch but your heart flutters from this sudden action from his side. When he pulls away he looks at you with a little smirk, his gaze soft and loving.

"Now you have enough strength and luck to fight back! And I will help you, as you boyfriend I will support you to the very end, understand?! So head up and smile, and together we will solve anything! Okay, darling?♡"

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @k-eke

My name is Kévin, but everybody calls me Kéké! I’m a 2D animator and illustrator, mostly drawing little bouncy animals and sharing them on the internet. I like cartoons and storytelling, trying to create stories where people can find themselves in, also trying to go further and develop stories that are rare in media, such as LGBTQ+ content, for example. I try to keep up with my 3DS to create my work and see how far I can go with it!

Below is our full interview with Kévin!

How did you get your start in animation?

I started animation back on September 4th, 2009, this is when I discovered Flipnote Studio on the DSi for the first time. I did try to animate before but solely on paper, and I had no knowledge about the medium at all, so it was an amazing discovery. I later became self-taught and could keep going by myself.

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as a creator?

I feel the habit that talks the most to me as a creator is communication. I feel it’s important to communicate with your public and fans to keep them updated and knowing how things are moving. It’s getting overwhelming to me the more I grow because the community is massive. Still, I keep up, and I thank many people for always updating me when something wrong happens (thieves, plagiarism, etc., etc.).

From idea to final piece, how long does it take for you to create something?

It all depends on the idea and process of the creation. For example, if my idea is just to animate a cat bouncing, this might take me a few minutes. Otherwise, if I want to animate 50 pigeons bouncing, this will take me around 5 hours or more! In general, an animation takes me less than a day or more if I’m busy on the side and can’t advance as much as I wish I could.

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

Art blocks often happen. I take them as good to rest and do something else. It’s not a must to draw/animate all the time or too often, and when it happens, I take it easy and try to entertain myself and see when it will be back. Also, I scribble sometimes just to feel like I’m still drawing but not with a point to reach a certain idea, just to let my hand go and make something silly. The mood can come back faster this way!

How do you use Tumblr to further your creativity?

I love Tumblr for the fact you can post 10 illustrations/GIFs as one whole post. This is not possible on other websites I know, so that was great for me to be able to make a compilation of GIFs and post it all there in one shot. It was really helpful and also allowed me to make a few little stories with this opportunity.

What is the hardest part of your process?

The hardest part is drawing on a DSi, 3DS literally! It’s so limited, with few colors (4 or 6 depending on the version), 2 or 3 layers, no zoom, and no options to make camera moves …… but I still love it haha. I’m so used to it that those don’t annoy me anymore, I accepted them, and people admire my art for it (I think!)

Have you ever wanted to dive into another medium before?

I did. Now I use TVPaint and Flash, toon boom more often, but in the end, I still come back to Flipnote Studio because it’s my favorite tool and program.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

So many inspire me it would be hard to choose! But I did love Sarah Andersen, Owlturd comics a lot, visually and the humor. Also, the use of Tumblr to post multiple pages at once: it inspired me to try it as well!

Thank you for stopping by, Kévin! Check out more of Kévin’s work over at @k-eke!

[bunnyywritings]

bubbly s/o opens up about trauma pt. 1

bakugou katsuki & shouto todoroki x gn!reader

word count: 1.8k

requested by anon: Katsu, Sho, Izu, and Eiji headcanons to their bubbly, and sweet crush, and close friend, opening up to them about being abused by their parents growing up? They've gotten therapy and are living with their Grandparents but sometimes they get upset when someone brings up parents or asks about the scars from abuse. They tell them they shared this with them because they refused to lie to them. They hug him close, thanking him for being a good friend. -Morp

[a/n: i hope you don’t mind that I’m doing it in parts anon! i ended up doing scenarios for each one, i'm a bit rusty so i apologize if this isn't very well done. you can read part 2 [ here ] ,thank you for requesting sweet heart! here you go! - yours truly, bunny -`ღ´- ]

TW: mentions of parental abuse & scars, nothing explicit but implied

To an extent, he always knew. Maybe not the specifics, but whenever you were alone and thought no one was paying any attention, you’d let your guard down. The metaphorical sparkle in your eyes would dim, your shoulders would slump as if you were taking a break. Then someone would approach and in the blink of an eye, the sparkle was back and the familiar grin on your lips was present once again. Despite what others may think, Bakugou was a good friend.

He worried about you. A lot.

That may be due to the fact that he has a huge crush on you, but it was unlikely. He values your friendship so much. He’d rather have you as a friend than anything else, really. That was mainly his insecurity talking though. He just thought he wasn’t good enough for you. No one was, really. But that’s besides the point.

He had never explicitly said anything about his feelings for you but he didn’t need to. It was quite clear through his actions. Well...clear to everyone but you, that is. Even Aizawa had caught on. And he couldn’t care less about his students’ love lives. He’s had his fill of teenage angst and drama.

During training, he’d always make sure your water bottle was full or during lunch he’d keep an eye out and make sure you were eating. Sometimes he’d even give you extra pieces of meat from his plate, or if he had veggies he knows you like, he’d wordlessly place them into your rice bowl.

Now this wasn’t one sided at all. You also had your ways of looking out for him.

If you were doing a convenience store run with Sero and you saw the particular snack that Bakugou likes, you’d instantly grab a few. For his birthday, you had gotten him custom earplugs for quirk training. It had been after you and him were paired to spar against each other, he always insisted on not holding back against you out of respect, and you had experienced one of his full blown attacks head-on. Your ears were ringing for about half an hour before you could somewhat hear again, and even then, everything was a bit muffled.

Needless to say, you were worried about his hearing

He scoffed and rolled his eyes when he unwrapped the box. Scolding you for wasting money on something he had no use for.

He always uses them though. Especially when he’s doing stamina training, and it’s explosion after explosion.

Anyways. He notices your strange behavior, one day. You stopped trying to keep up the façade and you were sort of gloomy all day. He was absolutely pissed that no one had noticed the change, and he’d yell at them later for it, but he kept his cool and waited until he could be alone with you.

It had been around 8pm, just an hour before his bedtime, when he made some tea for the both of you and carried it up to your dorm room. He paused in front of your door, looking down at both his hands, a mug in each one, then looking at the door handle. Realizing he won't be able to physically open the door by himself, he awkwardly bumped the door with his elbow.

“Hey idiot, it’s me. Open the door.” He grumbled quietly, frowning when you hadn’t responded. Before he could repeat himself a little more aggressively, the muffled sound of your sniffling made his stomach drop. Panic rising throughout his body as he made up worst case scenarios in his head.

“(Y/n), seriously. Is everything okay?” All attempts to sound calm failed as his voice betrayed him, trembling the slightest bit.

On the other side of the door, you started to panic. Furiously wiping any evidence of tears or snot from your face before you slumped over to the door, turning the lock and tugging it open to reveal a frowning Bakugou. He wasn’t upset, he was worried. It was evident in his red irises.

“Here. Drink it before it gets cold.” He handed you a mug before walking past you and into your room. He admired the decor everytime he was in there, no matter how many times he had seen it already, it never failed to make his heart warm. You had a wall full of pictures of yourself with your friends. There were a few solo photos of your friends as well. Most were candid shots, there were a fair few of him.

It always reminded him that beauty is indeed in the eye of the beholder. You cherished those candid photos because in your eyes, when your friends were carefree and themselves, no poses, no facade, that’s when they were their most beautiful.

He took a seat on your bed and patted the space beside him. Nudging the door shut, you made your way over and got comfortable.

“What’s up with you today? You seemed...not yourself.”

You didn’t respond, opting to take a sip of your tea. He knew there was something up and he wasn’t gonna push you. So he leaned back and got comfortable, waiting until you were ready. It was a solid three minutes of silence before you took a deep breath.

“I-I don’t want to lie to you, Katsuki. It just wouldn’t be fair so uhh, yeah. Here goes.” He could tell that this was overwhelming for you so, wordlessly, he put down his mug and held his hand out to you and you grasped it, like it was a lifeline.

And you told him.

You told him about the abuse from your own parents. He felt his blood boil as you showed him a few scars inflicted by your parents’ quirks. You explained that it was the anniversary of the day you ran away and went to live with your grandparents, and how you had been seeing a therapist on the regular since then.

It pained him to see you struggle through the tears, hiccuping a few times as you attempted to catch your breath. You didn’t even have to say it but he could see it, it was an all too familiar feeling to him. He tugged you to him, letting go of your hand and pulling you into his chest, his arms wrapping you up in a warmth that made the stinging tears return.

“You know, this doesn’t make me think less of you. You’re not weak. Those bastards don’t realize how bad they screwed up. You’re strong, and they’re gonna regret every goddamn choice they’ve made when they see how far you’ll go.”

“Thank you.” You whimpered as you gave in to the new wave of tears, hooking your arms around his shoulders. “Thank you…”

If anyone asks, no...he wasn’t crying. (He was though.)

If anyone was familiar with the signs of abuse, it was him. 

It hurt him so much knowing that you had gone through what he did, maybe not to the same extreme but you had experienced it nonetheless. 

He admired you though. Despite whatever happened to you, you were always bright. Always in a good mood and always choosing to see the good in people. He knows that he didn’t have the strength to do that. Maybe eventually, but not so soon. He had never wanted to pry. You guys were friends, practically best friends and he trusted that you’d tell him when you were ready. 

To his knowledge, no one knew. No one mentioned the way you’d flinch around sudden movements or when someone raised their voice. Honestly, it was a wonder that you had even befriended Iida. He was the epitome of loud and sudden. Always waving his arms around at the randomest times and always shouting to chastise someone for breaking a rule. 

He noticed that you tended to cover up your torso often. Never really wearing anything more revealing than a normal t-shirt. Even on the class trip to the beach, you insisted on staying covered up. No one questioned it, chalking it up to insecurity. Even during training when everyone had to wear their gym uniform, while others undid the top part and wrapped it around their waist, being clad in a tank top or sports bra, you had always kept it on. Even when it was extremely hot. More often than not, he found himself resting his palm against your forehead to cool you off. 

It hadn’t been very hot, but Aizawa decided to run everyone ragged with combat training, so everyone was partnered up. Todoroki had been partnered with Denki and you had been paired up with Eijirou.

As he sat with his classmates, watching the two of you spar, he was quite impressed. Not that he doubted your skill but both fighting styles were drastically different. Eijirou and his quirk relied on close combat while your quirk worked best with long-range. He could see the frustration on your face when Eijirou kept charging towards you and engaging in hand to hand.

As the fight went on, Kirishima had hardened his forearm and hand, kinda like a makeshift blade and as he took you down, he had accidentally cut the top of your gym uniform. As the dust settled and the both of you got up, the tear in your clothes allowed the whole class to see your back and shoulders, skin littered with scars. All were different in size, color, severity, etc. 

Everyone was stunned silent, not having expected anything like this. 

“(Y/n)...what happened?” You could feel the breeze on your back and the pity in Kirishima’s eyes made you angry.

Everyone suddenly snapped into realization. Various questions of; ‘who did that to you?’, ‘where did those come from?’ and whatnot were shot at you from different directions. He could see you slowly being overwhelmed by everything. His heart dropped as he made eye contact with you, your eyes tired and filled with tears. 

“That’s ENOUGH!” Everyone froze and looked at Todoroki with wide eyes, his voice booming.

Sensing the tension starting to rise, Aizawa sighed. 

“Alright everyone settle down. Training is over, get back to class. (Y/n). A word.” 

Reluctantly, Todoroki followed the boys into the locker room and changed into his school uniform.  When everyone was out and he returned outside to the training grounds, you and Aizawa weren’t there so he had gone back to the locker rooms. He knocked and called out to you. 

“Can I come in?” He heard a meek ‘yeah.’ So he carefully made his way inside. 

There you were, dressed in your school uniform and sat on a bench with your face buried in your hands, shoulders shaking. 

“(Y/n)...” He gently placed a hand on your shoulder, he winced when you looked up at him. IIt ached him to see your beautiful eyes tainted by tears. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner Sho…” Your bottom lip quivered. 

“Please, don’t apologize.” He opened his arms. You stood up and basically collapsed into them, clutching onto the back of his blazer. “Just always remember that I may understand more than anyone else will. I’ll never judge you, you know that right?” 

“I know…It’s just, ugh-” You pulled away and wiped the tears from your face. “I don’t want anyone to change how they look at me because of what my parents did to me and when everyone saw, and they were asking all of their questions, their eyes...they were just full of pity.” 

“Then look into mine.”

And when you did, you didn’t see pity. 

You saw admiration. You saw belonging. Love. Understanding. 

“Nothing will ever change with me, (Y/n).” He pressed his forehead against yours, “I will always be here for you.” 

[nazyalenskyism]

Not The Time!

Summary: Nikolai and Zoya have the worst timing.

A/N: Because I procrastinate everything including sleep, here’s a 2.4k fic I started at 1am last night because I saw a clip from a movie on twitter and thought, ‘hey, what if Zoyalai did that?’ This ended up a lot longer than originally planned and I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I hope you enjoy! ❤ Thanks for reading! Ao3: Not The Time! “We’re outnumbered,” Tamar yelled as she flung her axes in quick succession at a cluster of oncoming soldiers. “What do we do?” “Stay alive and figure the rest of it out as you go,” Zoya growled, heaving her arms to summon yet another wave of icy wind to push back the advancing Fjerdans. “Excellent advice, Commander,” Tolya cried, running his sword through, “if we survive based on your advice, I’ll write an ode in your name.” “I prefer ballads” Genya called out, flinging another canister of the concoction she had made that instantly knocked out their opponents into Nadia’s awaiting gust. David didn’t look up from the contraption he was fiddling with at the base of the dysfunctional airship, “the poem isn’t for you, dear.” “If we survive, I’ll knight you all,” Nikolai grunted, firing his pistols. “Make holidays in your name, paint royal portraits of your likeness, the whole works.” Zoya scoffed, “you can’t knight people, that only happens in storybooks.” “If we die today, I doubt it will matter!”

The battle was raging on and as the minutes slipped by, the Ravkans found themselves increasingly overwhelmed. Nikolai had known that their chances were slim, but he would not be the Lantsov king who saw his country drown without trying everything in his power to save his people. A passionate rallying speech to his soldiers, a thanks to his family for choosing to stay at his side and to go down for a country who had never given a damn about them, and one last look at the possibility of a future encompassed in the blue of Zoya’s fluttering hair ribbon had been all he’d been able to do before they launched themselves into this fight. Nikolai scanned the battlefield for any sort of reprieve and instead found a slight hole in the Fjerdans’ formations. Were the Ravkans making a dent? He fired off a pistol and inspected the gap further, they could break through the ranks there, they would be able to get to the top of the ridge and perhaps neutralize the battlefield with Genya’s sleep potion...Then the remaining Ravkan soldiers behind the lines could turn the Fjerdans’ hands to surrender… and then, they might win this battle. He might save his people and his friends. But first he had to get to the top of the ridge, and he needed a Squaller for dispersal. He glanced around at the group around him, he couldn’t throw any of his friends, Adrik, Nadia, or Zoya into harm with him, not when he was sure he would probably die trying to get there. He watched as Zoya pulled out her sword, a weapon she was now comfortable using thanks to Juris’ training in the Fold, and wield it like the warrior Saint she’d become, a fearless protector of the people, a queen. All around him, his friends stood out to him like burning embers on the battlefield and he knew that he would do whatever it took to keep them alive. He had to take the leap now, if he had any chance of saving them all. He yelled out to his friends, trying to outline his plan as quickly as possible, but his proposition of completing the task alone was met with raised voices.

Zoya was the first to admonish him, “you’re not going alone, you’ll barely make it past the first three Fjerdans.”

“What other choice do I have? We need to end this battle before we’re overwhelmed.”

“Oh, your plan is fine,” she said, glaring at him, “you’re just not going alone.”

“I can’t risk--” “You’re not risking anything,” she shrugged, “if you die, then the rest of us will probably end up dead too, and I’m sure as hell not letting you die alone on the battlefield. You don’t have a choice, I’m coming either way.” “I can’t let you--” “I’m coming with you, brother.” Tolya objected. “If you’re going, then I’m going too,” Tamar cried out, but her twin gripped her shoulder. “We can’t all die today. Genya and David need you. Nadia needs you. We will be back before you know it.” Her eyes flashed, “if you’re not at the top of the ridge in 20 minutes, we’re all coming after you.” “Fine,” Nikolai said, squeezing her other shoulder, “we’ll give you the signal from the top. He nodded to David, squeezed Genya in a quick hug, “let’s go.” Slipping through the gap in the defenses at the edge of the battlefield was easy enough, but working their way through the remaining number of Fjerdans, though there were fewer than at other points in the formation, was proving to be an issue. Tolya moved through the crowd with one hand exercising his Heartrender’s capabilities, the other tight around the hilt of a massive sword. Zoya was a force to be reckoned with, her new abilities to access all Grisha orders allowed her to summon multiple elements in quick succession, bright lightning seemed to be wreathing her every movement. Nikolai was managing well enough on his own, his pistols were in constant motion, preventing more soldiers from reaching them. He began to walk backwards, facing Zoya as she moved forward, checking her back and preventing anyone from following them.

Zoya suddenly dove, and for a second he thought she was trying to impale him, only to hear a thud from behind him, she’d taken out an assailant he hadn’t seen. She was standing a breath away from him, her chest heaving and her eyes alight with a cackling energy. He hoped it was out of adrenaline and not because she was about to decapitate him. If that was the case, it would make his next words very awkward. She pulled back and turned away, but Nikolai’s hand shot out and grasped her arm. “Zoya!” he yelled over the clamour of the fight, “will you marry me?” She stared at him openmouthedly, whirling around to parry an oncoming sword, “Nikolai, now is not the time!” He turned, shooting at two figures behind her back, “now may be the only time!”

Momentum from his movements pushed him forward and then they were grasping each others’ forearms, “I love you,” he whispered, before turning to disarm a figure from the corner of his eye. They fell back into one another, “I know what I want Zoya, do you?”

Zoya struck someone down behind his shoulder, the use of her powers causing her hair to lift in the wind, highlighted by the blue electricity. She glowered at him for a second, before hitting his chest with her fist, “Tolya! Marry us!” Nikolai grinned, brushing his fingers against her perfect face for a brief moment before kicking someone in the chest, sending them flying. “I’m a little busy at the moment,” the man roared, tossing someone into an oncoming group like the world’s most ruthless game of bowling. “Tolya, now!” Nikolai yelled. “Fine then!” He clenched his fist and a whole cluster of Fjerdans fell to their knees. Nikolai reached out, drawing Zoya in by the waist as they continued moving through the Fjerdans. She glanced up at him and Nikolai found himself near giddy at the understanding of what they were about to do. They may only have a few moments left in this world and he wanted to spend those moments by her side, as her husband, something he had never dreamed would be possible. He wanted the rightful Queen of Ravka at his side for as long as she would have him, whether it was on the battlefield, at a state function, or as it looked more likely by the second, buried beneath the earth.

“Friends, or lack thereof, we’re gathered here today to witness the union of the two people in Ravka with the worst timing.” Zoya turned from his grasp, flipping a Fjerdan over her shoulder before taking his hands in hers, her ferocious eyes trained on his. Nikolai tucked her hair behind her ear, “Zoya Nazyalensky, do you take me to be your husband, your king, your demon fool?” He had never seen such visible excitement on her face as when she replied, “I do.” “Fantastic,” Nikolai hummed, ducking down as she blasted someone back with a scorching flame. With their hands still joined, they pulled apart, Nikolai drawing his own sword from its scabbard and slashing mirthlessly, the mirror of Zoya’s ruthless movements behind him. “Nikolai Lantsov,” she turned her head back to look at him. “Do you take me,” they were facing now, as if they were bound in some sort of strange dance for which no one else could hear the music to. “To be your wife?” Nikolai twirled her under his arm, “in sickness and in health? With health looking less and less likely by the second?” Zoya ducked an oncoming blade, falling against him, and he wrapped his arm around her, taking out another assailant with a pistol. “I do.” He said against her hair, holding onto her as she used a gust of wind to propel them towards the base of the ridge where Tolya had reached. “I now pronounce you king and queen,” Tolya grunted, but he was smiling. “You may kiss, though I advise against it until we’re in the clear.” Nikolai dipped Zoya down but before he could do as Tolya said, he felt a prickle on the back of his neck, yanking her up and she launched herself at an approaching warrior. “You may kiss,” Tolya yelled again, knocking out another group of Fjerdans. Nikolai spun, taking out a few stray soldiers behind both Tolya and Zoya before taking her hand in his and pulling her back towards the ridge. “Just kiss!” Tolya said. Nikolai pulled her into his embrace, relishing the way her arms wrapped around him as he finally, finally kissed Zoya, the press of her mouth against his nothing short of electric.

They broke away all too quickly, the trio scrambling to the top of the ridge, occasionally blasting back those who tried to follow them. At the top of the hill, Tolya unloaded the pack full of Genya’s potion as Zoya rubbed her palms together in tight circles, the scent of a storm descending upon them. “Are you ready?” “Don’t have much of a choice,” Zoya huffed, her eyes shut tight as thunder rolled over the field, “my husband’s stupid plan better work.” “I don’t know if I should be worried more about you or the Fjerdans if this doesn’t work out.” “Me,” she said, her eyes flying open, flashing silver, dragon’s eyes, “always me.” Nikolai backed up, winding his arm up as Tolya did the same launching canister after canister into Zoya’s awaiting gust of wind. He called out direction, telling her where to aim and he could see the sweat breaking across her brow as she maintained the storm and controlled its wind.

When the last of the potion was dispersed, Zoya stumbled backwards into him, sinking to the ground as they watched the people below fall into unconsciousness. “If we make it back to the capital, I want a ring,” she whispered. “When we make it back to the capital, I will give you much more than a ring,” Nikolai laughed, seeing the blush rise in her cheeks. She squeezed his hand tightly, letting out a soft exhale of exhaustion. A flurry of movement caught his eye from below, the flapping of a white flag from the Fjerdans, the sight releasing an audible sigh from Nikolai’s chest. They had done it. Zoya turned to him, her head still resting against his shoulder, “we did it… we won?” “Don’t sound so surprised,” Nikolai teased, smothering a grin as she got up on her toes, bringing his mouth to hers. Once again, the moment was cut far too short when Tolya pulled them both into a bone crushing hug, refusing to let go until Nikolai reminded him that Tamar would kill him for not coming back down as soon as possible. They limped back to the battlefield with Tolya taking the lead, Nikolai with his arm around his General’s waist as she leaned into him, her arm around his neck. They helped up soldiers as they went, Nikolai clapping hands and thanking them, until they finally managed to make it back to their friends. He knew there would be terms of settlement and a million other things to discuss in the coming hours, but for now all he wanted to do was embrace his friends and let the feat they’d managed to achieve sink in. Their friends were bruised and scraped, Tamar had a wicked cut on her forehead, and David had somehow lost a shoe, but they were alive. They were all alive.

“What happened out there?” Genya asked, embracing Zoya, “we lost track of you once you got to their ranks.” ‘We just fought our way through,” he replied, the weight of Zoya against him felt unimaginable, but he refused to let her go. Not that she didn’t seem content where she was, leaning against him just enough that it looked like nothing more than the king supporting his commander. “We fought our way through, knocked out a ridiculous number of Fjerdans, saved the day, and oh yeah, Nikolai and Zoya got married.” “You what?” Genya hissed, turning on them, “you what?” “Looks like David will have to perform an opera naked in the shadow Fold after all,” Zoya shrugged, letting herself fall completely into Nikolai, there was no need to hide from their friends anymore. Nikolai rested his chin on top of her head, taking in the absurdity of the moment. They had won the war, they hadn’t died, and most mind blowing of all, he was married to Zoya, and for once she didn’t seem to be on the verge of throttling him. Was it too early to call today the most ridiculous day of his life? “What?” David said, glancing up at them from the ground in alarm. “You got married without me there?” Genya shook Zoya’s shoulders. “It was very spur of the moment,” Nikolai offered, “we thought we were about to die.”

“Do shut up, your highness. You really thought I hadn’t noticed you asking to access your mother’s old sapphire tiaras, looking for a stone to make a ring with? This was anything but a spur of the moment plan.” Zoya raised a brow, “interesting.”

“Is it really?” Nikolai winced, scrubbing a hand through his hair as the rest of the group turned to him, demanding answers while his queen curled up into his side, her knowing smirk making the barrage of questions that much easier to face.

[strawberrynamjoon]

our last summer

– pairing: taehyung & reader 

– warnings: a bittersweet mixture of fluff and angst, taehyung being a cheesy romantic in love and a sweet shower scene!!

– summary: in order to rescue your failing relationship, taehyung tries to fight for you one last time and flies to paris with you to relive some of your favorite memories – desperately hoping that the city of love will remind you of how much you love him again.

– word count: 7k

– note: this is based on “our last summer” by abba aka the best song in the universe <3 like always, this is not proofread yet, i promise i’ll do it someday.

You weren’t sure if you felt like crying or like smashing plates but by now, just looking at Taehyung was enough to make you feel upset. It was heartbreaking to see how the two of you drifted away, especially when you always were so sure that it could happen to anyone but never to you. At least that’s what you thought for the longest time.

A constant battle was going on inside of you, a turmoil, completely overwhelmed trying to decide between staying for the old times' sake or leaving and trying to move on. Neither of these choices was the right one in your mind but in the end, you still had to make one.

Maybe, your relationship with Taehyung was teaching you that sometimes in life you have to make a decision between two options that both are awful.

As he heard the sigh that escaped your lips, your boyfriend of five years glanced up from the book he was reading on the couch in the living room only a few meters away. The expression in his eyes gave him away easily – he knew exactly what was occupying your mind.

The book was thrown to the side, Taehyung couldn’t care less about which page he was on when he was currently watching his relationship crumble right in front of him, and his tall and broad figure made its way up from the couch over to the dining table you were desperately trying to work on your laptop to get your mind off your real problems.

He sat down opposite from you, closing your laptop so you would concentrate on him.

Studying his face, you still saw the same handsome man he was when you first fell in love with him. Actually, he might even be more handsome now than he was before, his boyish features grew into more manly ones over time. It was still painfully obvious that Kim Taehyung was an attractive man, no question – but the spark was missing.

“What’s on your mind, buttercup?” he asked carefully, lowering his head a bit so your eyes were forced to meet his.

Not even the loving pet name he gave you in the early stage of your relationship made you feel anything anymore. Well, nothing but frustration. Frustration because after all these years you spent together it didn’t seem fair to you that suddenly it didn’t fit anymore.

Thinking back to the start you were so sure that no one would ever be a better match for you than him. The way his hand fitted in yours, the way his body seemed to melt into yours at night as if you were two puzzle pieces, belonging together. Your beginning was such a happy one.

But that was the harsh reality about relationships, the bitter aftertaste. The endings are never happy.

Shrugging, you ran your hands through your hair, trying hard to sound as unbothered as possible, “Just the usual.”

It was hard to say who was in the worse position: You, the one who is falling out of love and sooner or later has to break the other person’s heart or Taehyung, the one who still loves so much and will get their heart broken.

Well, thinking about it for a second both of you didn’t seem to be in the ideal position. It didn’t matter who had it worse, both of you hated the current situation, feeling helpless and vulnerable constantly.

Taehyung was almost reaching out for your hand that was laying flat on the table for a second but stopped himself before he actually touched you. By now he knew that even his touch alone was making you feel burdened.

Now he was the one to let out a sigh. Sighs seemed to be your most common method of communication over the last few months, “I’m trying my best to be the best boyfriend I can. Please, if there’s anything I can do to save this, just let me know.”

It hurt how hard he was trying because you knew he was indeed doing everything that was possible to make you happy again. But the more he tried, the more you distanced yourself. May it be a defense mechanism or just you feeling guilty, it was the sad truth, inevitable.

Both of you were hurting and both of you knew where all of this was going – in the end, you would break up.

Despite the younger versions of yourselves swearing that you would never ever lose feelings for each other, the current you knew better. It was just a matter of time until you would part ways.

Pressing your lips into a hard line, you nodded. You couldn’t count the number of times you sat down like this in the evening to talk about your failing relationship on one hand anymore.

“What if those feelings will never come back, Tae?” you asked him carefully what was burning inside your mind for the whole day. Every time you looked at him you longed for just a hint of the feelings you used to feel – but no matter how much you wanted to, you felt nothing.

On the more positive side, Taehyung has always been your friend. No matter what kind of situation, you never had to choose your words carefully or be afraid of him judging you. If there was something on your mind, Taehyung would be there to listen and talk you through it, regarding your relationship or not.

His gulp, followed by him pressing his eyes together was giving away how much it affected him. You saw him crying one too many times to not know that he was trying hard not to let those tears roll down his cheeks at that moment.

“Don’t give up on us just yet,” his pained request was nothing more than a whisper and you could feel your heart physically cracking a bit, “Let me try one more time to convince you that the feelings are still hidden somewhere inside of you.”

You reached out for Taehyung's hand, squeezing it lightly. The unexpected touch made him look at you again, eyes longing.

"Sure," a weak smile was all you could offer him, "I don’t want this to be over neither. I really want this to work out again as much as you, believe me."

Nodding, his lips carefully pressed a kiss against your hand that was still holding his, "I have something in mind, it just needs a bit of planning."

The curiosity inside of you rose in an instant, Taehyung knew just how nosy you were and his favorite thing since forever was to tease something and then not tell you what it was.

"You're mean," you let out a weak laugh, "But I'll wait. I know you won't tell me anyway."

“Just don’t make any plans for next weekend.”

You startled out of your sleep in shock when you heard the loud alarm clock. After all these years, you never got used to just how loud Taehyung needs to have his alarm sound in order to actually hear it.

But instead of being greeted with a sleepy Taehyung next to you in bed you instead found him standing in front of the bed, dressed in his most fashionable clothes, two luggage bags in his hand.

For a second, just the smallest second, your heart sank, the luggage making you think that he decided that he finally had enough of your constant mood swings and was about to leave you. Even though you played with the thought of breaking up so often, you never felt more vulnerable than in that second.

As soon as you saw him laugh at you though, you realized that he was not leaving you for good.

“What the hell are you doing?” you asked grumpy, stretching while sitting up, “Why do you have your stuff packed?”

“Actually, that’s not my stuff, it’s our stuff,” the proud grin never left his lips, “I have to go and get something quickly before we leave. You have thirty minutes, better hurry up.”

Now you were wide awake, wondering what Taehyung was going on about on this Friday morning.

“What do you mean, before we leave?” you yelled after him but you could only see his back as he was shrugging and telling you that it’s a surprise – certainly the thing he teased a few days ago back in the kitchen.

A part of you was afraid – you knew that he was just trying his best to make you stay with him, whatever the surprise would be, but you didn’t want him to be disappointed in case it wouldn’t work out. It would break his heart if he put the effort into something cute for you and it still didn't work out.

The other and luckily bigger part of you was excited. It has been too long since you felt this excited about anything – real excitement, not the one you feel when a new season of your favorite show gets announced but the one that grows deep in your stomach, almost thrilling.

Knowing Taehyung, his surprises always were a hit, and even though things are rough between you, it was definitely worth a shot. You trusted him enough to know that wherever he was taking you would not be a disappointment.

But before you could give in completely to looking forward to it you felt stress rushing over you, having to get ready within thirty minutes without even knowing where your adventure would lead.

Rushing to the bathroom you were surprised with a letter attached to the mirror with adhesive tape. It had your name written on it, a few red hearts doodled around it.

Sitting down on the edge of your bathtub you opened the letter,  wondering what your boyfriend thought off for this weekend.

A small smile crept onto your lips as you read the letter. Taehyung surely knew how to be romantic, even after so many years.

But you had no time to gush about it, time was running and you had to at least look like a human before you were leaving.

Taking a quick shower and putting on concealer and some mascara in a rush was all you managed before Taehyung stood in the doorframe of your bathroom though, ready for the two of you to begin your adventure.

Turning around, you chuckled as you saw the croissants and strawberries he was holding up in the air, "Got us something for the flight."

"You're insane, Kim Taehyung. Taking me to Paris spontaneously like it isn't a big thing?"

"Anything for you," he shrugged slightly embarrassed and you could swear there was a blush creeping onto his face, "Are you ready?"

Nodding, you walked out of the bathroom with a smile on your face, "I'm always ready to go to Paris with you."

It has been some time since you thought about that trip to Paris many years ago but ever since you stepped into the airplane nothing else was on your mind.

The whole way from the apartment to the hotel so many memories of your first trip as a couple came back to your mind, each one of them making you miss how close you used to be.

Back then there was nothing more important than Taehyung’s and your relationship – you still remember how your heart skipped a beat seeing him fit in with the surroundings, not sure if he or Paris was prettier. 

You couldn’t help but giggle like an idiot when Taehyung insisted to carry you through the door of your hotel room in bridal style just like he did the last time. 

It was beyond you that he somehow managed to get the exact same room you were staying in back then – honestly, alone the fact that he still knew which one it was was impressive enough. It was typical for him to pay attention to the small details, one of the things you always adored about him.

In the back of your mind you couldn’t help but still doubt the intentions of this trip a little bit, fearing that not only it could become awkward but also that your precious memories of your favorite vacation with Taehyung could be replaced with worse ones after that.

But as soon as he insisted to carry you through the door bridal style you couldn’t help but giggle and promise yourself to push away all those negative feelings for at least this weekend.

After all, even if the love might be gone, Taehyung was still one of your closest friends.

“You know I could walk in myself, right?” you asked amused, your grin making Taehyung smile in an instant. It has been some time since he was the reason for your smile – your real smile, one that actually reached your eyes.

He shook his head while scrunching up his nose in the cutest way. Once again, you were blown away by how handsome he actually was. His tan skin, his wide chin and your favorite feature on him, his one double and one mono eyelid. All the things you were able to appreciate for hours back then.

All those pretty traits of him used to make you weak in the knees and you suddenly missed those feelings. Even though you weren’t feeling them right now, at least you started to miss them again. That was a good start, wasn’t it?

“You technically could but that would be pretty boring,” he laughed, kicking the door behind him so it would close while his hands were busy holding you. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and you wondered when you last were this close to him.

Walking to the bed, he gently let you down on top of it. The room didn’t change one bit, it was almost as if the time stood still since you last were here.

Taehyung raised his eyebrow at you, his eyes lighting up as something came to his mind, “I wonder if it’s still here.”

Before you could ask him what he meant he was already stepping outside to the balcony of the room. Curiosity took you over once again, following him out.

As you stepped after him, he was already squatting down, inspecting the lower part of the wall to his right.

“They painted it over,” he almost sounded sulky and you only now remembered what he was looking for.

Your eyes widened, “I completely forgot that we wrote our initials down here. Our criminal side jumped out back then.”

Laughter escaped your boyfriend’s mouth, shaking his head in disbelief, “We were so afraid to get caught. The whole thrill just for them to paint it over like it meant nothing.”

“It was so small, I bet they didn’t even notice it and just painted the whole wall because it needed a fresh coat of paint,” you assumed, remembering the little heart you wrote your initials in.

After the two of you put away your luggage and refreshed yourself a bit, Taehyung told you to get ready for today’s plan.

“Today, you’ll get the best out of reliving old memories and making new ones,” he informed you smugly as he was waiting for you to put on your shoes, standing in the doorframe, ready to go.

Your hotel was close to the centrum, surrounded by several cafes and bars. Taehyung has always loved the aesthetic of Paris, especially on a warm summer evening like this one. He didn’t care about the full streets and the traffic jam, he felt right at home in the overcrowded streets of France's capital.

All Taehyung cared for was the breathtaking views, the old architecture, and being with you. Also known as his biggest inspirations in life, even though if he had to rank it, you would definitely come first.

He always used to say that you couldn’t describe Paris, you simply had to feel it. Back then you thought it was cheesy and cliché of him to say but you knew how much Taehyung loved the city so you never said anything about it.

By now you felt the same way about Taehyung – it was hard to describe being with him, it was something you simply had to feel. And you felt it all, every positive emotion there was, over the span of many years.

You felt the comfort and joy of being loved by the man himself and once again he was proving to you that he was the best boyfriend anyone could have. It has always been like that. And that made it only harder to think of a life without him.

The two of you were walking under the pink-tinted evening sky, people were all around you, pushing and shoving, not caring if anyone gets run over.

“Are you okay?” Taehyung suddenly asked you, taking your wrist in his hand while hurrying to guide you through the crowded street, “I know this must be terrible for you since you hate crowded places.”

“I’ll survive,” you joked, appreciating the way he made sure to get you out of this mess as fast as possible, “Where are we even going?”

To your luck, the ending of the crowded street was right in front of you. The warm summer air was hugging you as you walked next to Taehyung and even though he let go of your wrist again, you took his hand in yours.

For most people that wouldn’t be a big thing but it must have been several months since you and Taehyung were holding hands in public – it almost felt like you were holding hands for the first time again.

“I thought we could start at the street with the cafe we always went to last time,” he immediately shot you a wide smile at your surprising action, squeezing your hand lightly, “I’m so happy to be back.”

You let out a laugh as the two of you were walking down the streets of Paris, “I thought you planned this to sweep me off my feet again but I see, you just did this because you missed Paris.”

It was nice to hear his laugh again, one without worries and filled with genuine joy, “Hey, I’m having the best of both worlds, just like Hannah Montana used to teach us when we were young.”

“Very wise. You’re an idiot,” you replied amused as you eyed the familiar café, a rather small one with the cutest tables out of green metal that reminded you of the ones your grandmother used to have in her garden.

“I agree,” he smiled while coming to a halt in front of the cafe, “But at least I’m your idiot.”

If any other men would say something incredibly cheesy as that it would have made you cringe instantly but Taehyung mastered the art of predictable flirting so well that you almost felt like blushing.

The two of you sat down outside of the cafe on one of the small, round tables as Taehyung ordered two café au lait for you. The ambiance was full of life as people were chattering all around you, enjoying their Friday evening just like you were. There were enough people around you to give the two of you a weird sense of privacy, everyone too busy with their own life to pay attention to anything else.

“I remember last time we were here a mad Jimin called you in the middle of our little date because you accidentally took his keys with you,” you reminisced.

Taehyung remembered that call too well, fearing for his life back then, “It’s been so long, I almost forgot I used to live with him.”

“To be fair, I snatched you away from him pretty fast,” you answered, “We moved in together so fast, once you moved in with Jimin we already made plans to move out again.”

Your boyfriend’s face was resting on his hand as his whole attention diverted to you, his eyes sparkling as he was listening to you talk about old times, “I remember your father wanting to kill me because he thought we were rushing things."

It was heartwarming to think about all the past memories, the smile on your face never leaving as you were talking about them, “You and my dad have come a long way. He might even like you at this point.”

“Well, it only took me several years of convincing him that I’m not leaving,” Taehyung was right. It was a fight for him to make your father like him but he never gave up, “I think as long as you’re not pregnant I’m fine for now.”

“If I’d come home pregnant he’d chase you down with a machete for sure,” the thought alone had you bit your lip so you wouldn’t burst out laughing, “I don’t think he would want to become a grandfather anytime soon.”

Agreeing, Taehyung nodded, "Thank god, I think us becoming parents now would be rather chaotic."

The two of you were having an easy-going conversation, a rare thing nowadays, for what felt like an eternity. He told you about his newest client that he disliked so much and you told him about the new band you discovered and instantly fell in love with. It was almost scary to realize how few things you talked about over the last time despite living under the same roof.

Two coffees each and several topics later, Taehyung and you decided that it was time to leave the café for now, even though you already agreed on coming back for breakfast the next day.

“Where are we going next?” you asked him, wondering what this night still had to offer for you.

As he was standing up he offered you his hand and you gladly took it, “Let me surprise you.”

About twenty minutes later you were sitting down on a picnic blanket on a grassy area close to the Eiffel Tower. Last time you were sitting there, Taehyung kept on insisting how sad it was that he already had kissed you several times before because he thought this would have been the most perfect first kiss to ever exist.

To this day you remember how whiny he was about it, not shutting up until you made him with a long kiss.

“Do you still remember how upset I was about the whole first kiss thing?” Taehyung asked with a smirk on his face while searching for something in his back.

Chuckling, you nodded, if only he knew that you thought about the same exact thing just a second ago, “I just wanted to enjoy the view but you kept on whining.”

“Stop making fun of me,” he laughed, handing you a bottle of wine and a corkscrew, “It was a missed opportunity. Imagine how cool it would be to tell our children about our romantic first kiss under the Eiffel tower. But no, our first kiss was an absolute mess.”

“Stop dragging it,” you insisted with a laugh, “It was perfectly fine.”

Scoffing, he got out a lunchbox filled with several croissants and some cheese, “Perfectly fine? We were drunk in Jeongguk’s bed with Hoseok and Becca spying on us through the window.”

“I loved it,” you assured him, laughing brightly. You did love it - it was perfect in its own way, “Maybe it wasn’t 'kissing under the Eiffel Tower while being wine-drunk' perfect, but it was enough to make my heart flutter.”

Taehyung's deep chuckle as he was thinking back to your first kiss was almost endearing, “I was so nervous back then. I kept on hoping that you wouldn’t try to hold my hand because it was super sweaty.”

Drinking the wine straight out of the bottle, you and Taehyung enjoyed the view as the sun was almost gone and the Eiffel Tower was shining brightly.

It was so easy to think of the old times, back when both of you had nothing to worry about ever because your relationship was the strongest thing to exist at those times.

“We were so much younger,” you laughed as you laid down, head resting in Taehyungs lap, “Just two college kids with no worries.”

Taehyung’s long fingers were playing with your hair as he was looking down to you – the sparkle in his eyes was still there, even after everything you’ve put him through. It never went away, not when you first told him you’re reconsidering you’re relationship, not when you started to sleep on the sofa, not even when you confessed that you weren’t sure about your feelings anymore.

How hard it must have been for him to watch you fall out of love right in front of him without being able to stop it happening – and still he never stopped fighting. This trip was just another try to save your relationship.

And honestly speaking, you felt closer to him right then and there than you did in months. As you were looking up into his eyes, in the city of love, with a thousand stars in the sky you almost thought you could go back to normal. But what would happen as soon as you were back home, the risk of your everyday life catching up and cursing you once again?

He offered you a breathy chuckle, not breaking the eye contact for even a second, “We’re still young, buttercup.”

“Why does it feel like I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders then?" you asked him with  a pout, "It certainly wasn't like that in college."

"That's probably because we stopped drinking in the middle of the week," he joked, his fingers were slowly wandering from your hair down to your cheek, caressing it lovingly.

He managed to get out a chuckle from you, enough for him to be satisfied. Nodding, you agreed with him, "You might not be wrong about that. But that's what I mean. We couldn't just get drunk in the middle of the week because we're simply feeling like it anymore. We're too old for that."

Taehyung let out a laugh, shaking his head in disagreement, "Let me prove you wrong. Next week, I'll buy a bottle of your favorite liquor just for the two of us and we'll drink it in the middle of the week and the next morning we'll both call in sick."

"No way," you scoffed with wide eyes, "We can't just do that."

Your reaction was too cute for Taehyung to handle, he could swear he felt his heart melting at the shock in your face, "Of course we can. And we will."

"You're insane," you told him, "We can't skip work because we're hungover. We have responsibilities."

Taking your hand in his he brought it up to his mouth, kissing every finger individually, "Stop discussing with me. We can and we will. You're always overworking yourself and I bet it could help you relax. Just trust me."

Laughing, you realized that Taehyung was actually serious, "Alright, Tae. I trust you. Let's do it."

It was about 10 p.m. when you and Taehyung decided to end your little picnic and continued your evening in the form of taking a walk along the Seine, your eyes glued to the shimmering reflection of the city lights on the water. Your hand was held by Taehyung’s, exactly where it seemed to belong.

“Hey, stop, for a second” Taehyung suddenly stated, standing still and making you do the same. As you turned around, you saw him smiling at the sky with his mouth slightly open, reaching out to the sky with his free hand.

“What is it?” you asked with a laugh on your lips, wondering what Taehyung was so fascinated by. all of a sudden

Freeing his eyes from the night sky he looked at you, raising his eyebrow playfully before his arm wrapped around your waist and instantly pulled you close to him, your body stumbling into his as his hand found your face.

“I swear I just felt a raindrop,” his eyes were full of excitement like the ones of a child and it was almost funny to see him like that, “This is just perfect.”

“It’s not raining,” you shook your head playfully, amusement in your voice, “I didn’t feel anything. You’re halluci–”

You were cut off before you could end your sentence, your face now shooting upwards too after you felt a raindrop on you. Taehyung and you both were standing there, him holding you close as you were waiting for another one.

“I told you,” he laughed, “I just felt another one.”

And just then, you also felt one more raindrop on you. And shortly after, another one.

“No way,” you whispered amazed before looking Taehyung in the eyes, shaking your head in disbelief, “There’s no way it’s starting to rain right now. This can’t be a coincidence. You planned this.”

The smile on his face was replaced with sincerity in his eyes, the situation turned serious within seconds as slowly but surely, more and more raindrops hit you.

It almost hurt to look Taehyung in the eyes, the moment a bit too perfect to be true. His arm was pulling you a bit closer to him, closing the remaining space between your chests.

“Do you remember what I said three years ago?” he asked with a certain carefulness in his voice.

You only nodded in response, both of you awfully aware of the tragedy of the situation. Of course, you remembered Taehyung's promised last time it was raining while you were walking along the Seine.

“Due to the circumstances I will obviously not drop down to my knees now,” his voice was filled with pain, “But I want you to know that if we manage to get over this and one day come back here I’ll do it without a doubt.”

It always has been one of your personal favorite memories – you and Taehyung, in the pouring rain in the middle of the night, right where you were standing at that moment. A strong feeling of required love to the fullest between the two of you.

The way your heart was racing and your stomach was tingling when Taehyung promised you that the next time he would take you here he would come to the Seine again on a rainy night and he’d ask you to marry him.

He was so sure of it, so sure that it would happen. Ever since you started dating, both of you were sure that you'd end up getting married one day. Not only you but everyone around you thought so.

Back then, no one could’ve known that the next time you would come you were coming to save your relationship instead of taking it to the next level.

You didn’t have to look at Taehyung to know that his eyes were filled with tears, the way his voice sounded already gave him away. You tried hard to stay calm, a deep sigh coming from you as you once again longed for Taehyung's and your happiness.

By now the rain was pouring, both of your hair sticking to your face and your clothes draining.

“We drifted away from each other,” you repeated what you told him ever so often quietly, your forehead resting against his chest, hoping for some kind of comfort, “but I don’t want to lose you. You’re still my best friend and partner in crime. But you also deserve someone who loves you more than I am capable of right now.”

You felt Taehyung’s hand on the back of your head, holding your head close to your chest right before his lips pressed against your forehead. The two of you haven’t had that much skinship in a long time and you almost forgot how much comfort the broad man could give you.

“Well,” he laughed lightly through the tears, “I don’t want anyone but you. It’s always been like that. I just need you to want me too, that’s all we need to work it out.”

Another quick kiss was pressed to your forehead before you dared to look up again, a few of your boyfriend’s tears getting mixed up with the raindrops on his skin but even though the situation was sad you could see a bit of hope in his eyes.

"I don't know where we went wrong," he started talking again after realizing that you were at a loss for words, "but if you close your eyes and think of the future right now, don't you see me in it?"

You never thought of it that way. Closing your eyes, you tried to imagine how your ideal life would look like in five years.

The scenario in your mind was a clear picture – You, on your birthday, coming home from work. You moved out of your current apartment into a house with more space and more daylight, your parents were there, smiling brightly, your best friend was there too, you saw Jeongguk and Jimin playing with your nephew in the garden, running around like crazy and you noticed Yeontan, running after them.

And then you saw Taehyung – not as your boyfriend but instead as your husband, lighting candles on your cake with the brightest smile, just waiting to kiss you and tell you he's proud of you – with nothing but admiration in his eyes. As soon as you noticed him you felt a tight feeling in your chest, not necessarily a bad one though. It gave you a sense of home, a place you belonged to.

Of course, you knew that this was only your imagination, your ideal idea of the future, and that the reality most likely will be different but he had a point – even though it is hard, you haven't given up completely yet.

“You think we can still save this?” you asked him as you wiped the tears from his cheeks, “What if we go home again and fall into old patterns?”

Slowly, he shook his head no with a sigh before both of his hands found your face and you felt him come closer.

And a few moments later you felt Taehyung’s warm lips on you, the contrast to the cold raindrops sending shivers down your spine. The kiss was slow, romantic, and meaningful – it said more than any spoken words ever could.

It meant that he would take care of you, he would work through every problem with you, he would fight and would hold you close. All of the things you always knew, just forgot over time.

Taehyung was always there and he would always be, as long as you let him.

As he broke the kiss, his forehead still against yours he grinned at you, satisfied with the feeling he knew he just gave you. Taehyung felt it too, the butterflies that went right to your stomach.

“See,” he quietly laughed, “I want to make you smile for the rest of your life. That is if you let me.”

You shot him a smile, a real one, one you actually meant, “Let’s go home, Tae. I’m cold and I want to take a warm shower.”

And like that the two of you walked through the rain, hand in hand, talking about everything that came to your mind.

Taehyung, the gentlemen he was, shielded you from the rain by holding his jacket over your head the whole time, working hard as your personal umbrella.

Despite your feet hurting and the rain pouring, the way home was not bothering you at all. It was nice to see Paris at night once again, especially with Taehyung not able to keep quiet about every little thing he loved about it. Every few seconds he'd point to a building or a statue and one time even to a simple bus stop to tell you how pretty it was.

About twenty minutes later the two of you were finally back inside the hotel room, completely drenched and freezing. Even though it was rather late by now, you weren't feeling tired, the adrenaline of the spontaneous trip and all the impressions of today keeping you awake.

The warm water hitting your body as you stepped into the shower was much needed to prevent you from freezing to death. You suddenly became awfully aware of how tired your limbs felt, how exhausted your body was and how much you just wanted to lie down in bed, excited to share it with Taehyung again after such a long time.

Your thoughts were processing the evening – just yesterday you were still doubting that you and Taehyung could ever go back to normal but seeing him today, proving that he still is able to manage to sweep you off your feet, you felt positive.

It might take some hard work and a lot of changes but both of you were more than willing to do anything for your relationship.

As you heard the bathroom door open, you were torn out of your thoughts.

“I’m coming in,” Taehyung warned you with a giggle before the shower curtain was opening, your tan and muscular boyfriend standing in front of you, offering you a big smile.

“What are you waiting for?” you asked playfully as he was hesitating for a moment, not sure if you’d be okay with him joining you but he won’t let you tell him twice.

Hugging you from behind, he pressed a  small kiss right under your ear. You almost forgot how sensational it was to feel his skin on yours, the feeling of it leaving a warm and burning desire in your stomach.

“I missed this so much,” his voice was almost whiny, pressing kisses to the back of your shoulder between every word as his hand was drawing circles on your hipbone, “Missed you so much.”

Turning around to face him, you gave him a small peck with your arms wrapped around his neck, “I missed you too. We should go to Paris more often."

“I’d love to just pick you up and kiss you wildly against the wall right now but the chances that we both slip and die in the process are too high,” he made both of you laugh.

"As sexy as that sounds, I'd prefer no broken bones tonight," you said before leaning in for a kiss. The water between the two of you was kind of distracting but you couldn't care less, just wanting Taehyung to hold you close.

This was the nicest shower you took in the longest time – while Taehyung was busy kissing your jawline, down to your neck, down to your collarbone, and so on, you were shampooing his hair, making him giggle as the kind gesture.

"This feels peaceful," he hummed with his face nuzzled into your neck, hugging you tightly as he was waiting for you to be done so the two of you could go to bed, "I won't let you stay on the couch tonight. Don't you dare to even try."

Turning the water off and reaching for the towels next to the shower you laughed, rubbing his hair with it playfully, the messy wet hair in combination with his puppy eyes being a dangerous combination, "I wouldn't even if you forced me to."

Both of you were slipping into your bathrobes, ready to go to bed after such an eventful day.

"Taehyung," you gasped as you opened the door to the room, your heart skipping a beat, "I don't deserve that."

You were greeted with lit candles all over the room, your favorite show on Netflix already waiting to be played and the biggest bouquet of roses standing on the nightstand.

His arms wrapped around you from behind and you could basically hear the smile he had on his face, "I told you tonight will be a mixture of old and new memories. We had all the old ones, now it's time to create some new ones."

He walked over to the bed, making himself comfortable, "Aren't you going to join me?"

Shaking your head, you told him to wait for a second, looking for something in your handbag.

When you found what you were looking for, you opened the door to the balcony, Taehyung following you, wondering what you had in mind now.

As soon as he saw you crouching down, close to the wall he knew exactly what was going on. Crouching down beside you he kissed your temple as he admired the new artwork decorating the wall.

"I love you still, so much," he almost sounded touched, the small action meaning a lot to him, "We'll get through this. I promise."

[dearest-bucky]

That don’t impress me much (One Shot)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Sometimes fancy dates with fancy people and fancy flowers are not enough to make someone fall in love.

Words: 2.3K

Warnings: none for this one really, just cuteness hihi

A/N: This is loosely inspired by the song with the same title by Shania Twain. I really hope you like it. 

A/n 2: One or two days before my old blog got deleted I got an anonymous request that was in the kind of in the same lines of this story but I will still write it because I will mix it with something else to create a different story. Okay so this was just a reminder for the anon (who probably doesn’t even follow me here lol) that I haven’t forgotten their request and I will have it posted right after I’m finished reposting all my old stories. 

Originally posted: February 27, 2020

“Okay Dad America, he’s here so I got to head out.” She pecked Steve’s cheek lightly, leaving a pinkish mark of lipstick in his skin and headed out of the compound.

“Don’t wait up for me.” She jokingly called behind her shoulder and then she was out of the door.

Steve and Natasha chuckled in unison at her antics, meanwhile Bucky who was pretending to be invested in his book, huffed in annoyance.

She looked absolutely gorgeous, wearing a navy blue long sleeved dress and black sandals. Her make up was as always on fleek and she was ready to make any man in New York fall in love with her.

It was yet another date for her, they were becoming a recurring thing lately and Bucky absolutely hated seeing her dressed up to the nines and  leaving with another man that wasn’t him. Despite his annoyance, he was trying to keep the focus on his book, but miserably failing anyway.

“You know you could always ask her out and then you won’t have to see her run off to another man’s arms.” Natasha stated matter of fact.

Bucky just rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“She’s right Buck.” It was Steve’s turn to speak.

This time the brunet closed his book in annoyance and got up from his spot on the couch.

“Like you two know anything…” His words were out in a mumbling voice all the while he was walking out of the common room, more than relieved to be out of the overwhelming presence of the Black Widow and his punk best friend.

Of course he hated seeing y/n go out on these dates, and he absolutely hated all the guys she dated. They were all too sophisticated and rich and they smelled like money from far away. The good thing was that y/n never liked any of them that much as to offer them a second date, but for how long? Bucky was sure someone would soon come along and steal her heart if he didn’t do something about it, but how could he tell her he had feelings for her? How could he compare to any of those other guys?

Sure, being an Avenger and living in the compound meant Tony was always stuffing their bank accounts, but Bucky felt like he couldn’t even get to the level of those guys, not only financially, but also emotionally. He could never offer y/n what they could. He could never make her happy like one of them could. And that’s why he kept his mouth shut.

*

Another failed date. Y/n realized it as soon as she entered her date’s car. He handed her a big bouquet of red roses, that was way too exaggerated for her liking and kissed her cheek lightly.

She smiled but she couldn’t help feeling she was just wasting her time.

Men always went out of their way with surprises and gifts, like pearly jewelry or in this case overly expensive bouquets of roses, thinking she would appreciate the materials and fall for them or something. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t get a normal date. Possibly one with a certain handsome broody super soldier.

She kept going on these dates with these men trying to make Bucky jealous, desperately hoping he would say something, but she never got a reaction from him. Maybe he just didn’t like her that way.

Maybe all of her attempts to get his attention hadn’t worked.

She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat by the unpleasant thoughts and smiled sweetly at her date. She had to at least look like she was having a good time.

The ride to the restaurant was short and she was thankful for that. But when they set foot inside the place, y/n immediately felt suffocated by the stuffy atmosphere. That place screamed expensive, with the crystal chandeliers and porcelain plates.

While she enjoyed the nice food and everything, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander to the possibility of Bucky being with her there. Maybe they wouldn’t be there at all anyway. She knew how much Bucky hated the crowded places and she knew she would enjoy being with him anywhere, it didn’t matter how classy or expensive the place was.

“So I’m hoping next time we could escape for a whole weekend in my cabin in Vermont.” Mark was already making plans for a second date and y/n couldn’t wait for this first one to be over. He was so sure in himself it made y/n laugh at his face.

“I’ll let you know if I’m free.” She replied politely, not wanting to be unnecessarily rude with him.

They skipped desserts after y/n pretended she wasn’t feeling all that well and he drove her back to the compound again. When he stopped the car outside the building, he got close to y/n, trying to get a kiss from her, but at the last moment she shifted her face and his lips met her cheek.

Mark sighed quietly but smiled nonetheless.

“Thanks for tonight, I had a good time.” Y/n spoke almost too quickly, wanting this to be over already. “Good night.” With a small smile she opened the door of the car and got off.

“Don’t forget the flowers.” Mark called after her animatedly.

She turned around and picked the heavy bouquet. “Sure, we don’t want to forget the flowers.” The words were hushed out under her breath and she bid him good night for the second time before going inside.

It was only a couple minutes past ten, so she was surprised to see that nobody was in the common areas. She entered the dark kitchen with a sigh and put the bouquet on the counter, then headed to the fridge to get a frozen yogurt.

Only when the light of the refrigerator illuminated the place, did she notice a silhouette sitting unmoving in one of the armchairs, head hanging low.

Y/n gasped loudly, despite being an Avenger she was scared easily and immediately turned the light on, seeing Bucky sleeping uncomfortably in the chair.

He woke up by the noise she made and locked eyes with her.

“Hey, you’re home early.” He said after checking the time on his phone.

“Yeah, wasn’t feeling too great.”

Bucky’s eyes averted from her face to the giant bouquet of red roses and he shook his head slightly. “That’s a really big bouquet.”

Y/n chuckled, not totally calm yet.

“Yeah, I thought that too.”

They stared at each other’s eyes for a little too long for y/n’s liking. Bucky made her feel nervous and every time he looked into her eyes it seemed as if he was able to read her every secret thought.

She cleared her throat in an attempt to compose herself, before talking to him again.

“So where is everyone else?”

“Steve and Sam got called on a mission. Tony is in his lab with Bruce and Vision. And the girls went out for drinks I think.”

Y/n felt a little bad for Bucky being left alone. No matter how much time passed he still wouldn’t be 100% comfortable around Tony and vice versa, so with every person left in the compound being with him, Bucky felt like he should just step away.

“We can watch a movie together if you want?” She offered without really thinking.

Bucky’s eyes widened at her words, and she took that for having stepped a boundary or something, so she quickly added “If you don’t want to go back to sleep that is, or if you just don’t want then that’s okay too. I just meant that it’s just us…”

She started rambling and she wouldn’t be stopping any time soon if it wasn’t for Bucky interrupting her.

“I would love to watch a movie with you, y/n.”

She blushed at his words and then nodded her head.

“Okay, great! Just give me ten minutes to get out of this dress and into some comfy pjs and I’ll be right back. You can pick a movie if you like.”

With that she got in the elevator, heading to her bedroom.

Bucky didn’t know what movie to choose, so he figured he would just wait for her to pick one. It was a little less than 10 minutes later when she re-entered in the kitchen, this time without any trace of make up in her face, her previously beachy curls gathered in a messy bun and wearing a cute pajama with little elephants imprinted on it.

Bucky thought she never looked more adorable.

“So, you picked a movie yet?”

“No, I figured you could do that.”

She scrolled down on Netflix to find some good movie, before deciding to watch Clueless. It was a light choice, funny, cute and she always thought that Josh was too cute and he and Cher were so good together.

They sat on the love seat, a blanket thrown casually on their laps and started the movie. It was a good one, a chick flick but Bucky liked it nonetheless.

He was focused on the storyline when around the middle of the movie he felt y/n’s weight on his left shoulder. He tensed a little, but relaxed again just as soon after, because it was y/n, and he loved having her near him. Besides she was never scared or repulsed by his metal arm.

Not long after her, he felt his eyes closing too and they were both fast asleep next to each other.

*

In the morning y/n was the first to wake up, feeling her cheeks flushing with embarrassment when she realized she had fallen asleep on Bucky.

Being tucked close to his chest, his head was resting on top of hers, and she could her his deep breaths. He was still soundly sleeping. Y/n didn’t know what to do, if she moved she would wake him up, but if she didn’t the other members of the team would see them cuddling on the couch and she didn’t want to hear their teasing.

She tried to carefully free herself from Bucky’s arms but his grip tightened unconsciously and she huffed out a short breath.

Bucky started stirring in his sleep and she could sense him waking up.

“Good morning.” He rasped out and oh god, his sleepy voice was the sexiest sound she had ever heard. She slapped herself mentally and tried to keep her thoughts in check.

“Morning Buck. I’m sorry I fell asleep on you last night.”

“I don’t mind.” He replied, now being fully awake.

She smiled sweetly at him and didn’t know what to say. In that moment her phone chimed and she picked it up to read the new incoming message.

Mark: Good morning. :) Would you like going on a breakfast date with me?

She sighed upon reading the message. Bucky who couldn’t stop his eyes from  stealing a quick glance at her phone screen stiffened visibly and started retreating his body from hers.

“I suppose you have somewhere to go..” his voice faltered at the end of the sentence.

Y/n put her phone down and turned to look at Bucky. “Not unless you want me to stay here.”

“Doll I-”

“Should I stay?” Her interruption surprised him. She looked like she was almost pleading him to ask her to stay.

“Do you want to stay?” He asked unsure, not knowing how to answer to her question, actually fearing he would answer the wrong thing.

“Very much.” She didn’t even hesitate to give him that answer. “I am tired of going out on dates with guys that aren’t you.”

Before she could loose that boost of confidence she had no idea where came from, she continued speaking, her voice carrying all the feelings she was trying to communicate to him.

“I am tired of carrying these heavy exaggerated bouquets every other night and I am tired of having to be polite to my dates and refusing their expensive gifts and their second dates requests.”

Bucky eyes widened with every word leaving her mouth, but he didn’t dare interrupt her.

“I don’t want to put myself through the same useless process of dating people I know I won’t give a chance because I have my eyes on someone else. And I don’t want to wait anymore to tell you this, I really like you Bucky. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same because-”

He didn’t let her speak anymore, pressing his lips softly to hers. Her breath hitched when he kissed her, but she wasn’t planning on turning him down. With newfound eager she reciprocated his kiss and he was all too happy to keep tasting her.

Too soon for her liking anyway, he broke it off and rested her forehead against hers.

“I really like you too sweetheart.” He whispered near her lips and she couldn’t hide the smile that spread on her face.

“But I can’t compare to those other guys. I can’t offer you expensive jewelry or fancy crowded restaurants dates and I-”

She pecked his lips for a second, just to get him to stop, before she distanced herself from him, but never going too far.

Her hands went to cup his cheeks while she locked her eyes with his.

“None of that impresses me. You know I don’t care about any of it. I had the best date with you last night, just watching a movie and sleeping next to you.” Her voice was sweet and honest and Bucky didn’t have any other choice but to believe her.

He covered her hands that were still resting on his face with his and smiled  lovingly at her.

“You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to know, you know that?”

[driversmutbucket]

Kitten Part VII

Kylo AU x Reader

Here we go againnnnnn. Im not sure how the hell this fic has become so long. It’s going to start wrapping up in the next part. Enjoy friends!

Warnings: NSFW, oral sex, dom/sub dynamic, daddy kink, praise kink Tag list: @reyloaddict55​ @candycanes19​ @jediminddicks1000​ @finn-ray-nal-beads​ @maybe-your-left​ @thegreenmatt​ @morby​ @sydneyssmut​ @contesa-lui-alucard

To start this fic from the beginning, please refer to my masterpost. 

The week slipped by.

Your dress from Kylo arrived at work on Friday morning, no chance to back out of wearing it.

You took the garment bag and an additional box into your office and shut the door. 

You hung the garment bag on the back of the door. Too nervous to open it just yet. You had enough information to trust his taste, he had your sizing, but part of you was still nervous you would be faced with a dress 2 sizes too small that resembled a wench costume.

Exhaling through your mouth slowly you opened the box. 

You frowned. There were 2 separate parcels. Black tissue paper - of course. You almost rolled your eyes.

You removed the first parcel. Definitely a shoe box. You gasped when you removed the paper and opened the box. 

“Fucking hell Kylo.” You muttered. .

You had watched enough Sex and the City and read enough Vogue to recognize the unmistakable embellishment. Black Manolos. 

You stroked the shoe in wonder, marveling at the craftsmanship. 

You repeat your deep yoga breaths, trying not to panic. This was a lot. Extravagant. You knew damn well how much shoes like this cost. You purchased luxury goods from time to time, usually feeling nauseous after the transaction.

You moved to the next parcel, removing it from the box carefully.

Teasing open the tissue paper you broke into a grin. Black lace. A tiny scrap of a thong and a strapless bustier. You grazed your fingers across the fabric, it was beautiful, the bustier was mostly sheer, the boning visible. 

You were seeing the vision, and you were in support of it, chewing your lip as you imagined yourself in just the lingerie and heels. Imagining the look on his face when he saw you in your gifts. 

“Ok, let's do this.” You murmured to yourself, walking over to stand in front of the garment bag. 

Another deep breath. You slowly unzipped the bag. The first thing you saw was the label. You were going to kill him. This was too much. 

Alexander McQueen, fucking McQueen! You knew it was going to be perfect before you even had the whole bag open.

The neckline was an elegant sweetheart cut. The hourglass silhouette, midi length and black fabric exuded understated elegance. You turned the dress to find a back slit at the hem. 

You held it, staring in awe. It was beyond anything you could have expected. 

You hung it back up gingerly.

You sat at your desk feeling dazed. Overwhelmed by the generosity, unsure what it meant? Just- everything. 

-

You had agreed to meet at Kylo’s prior. 

You felt amazing, the dress fit like a glove. You had never worn anything so beautifully made. Everything you liked about your body was accentuated. The bustier clinched in your waist and pushed up your breasts just enough; you had stared at yourself in the mirror in slight amazement. 

And! the! shoes! So comfortable for a pair of heels, so much so that the price suddenly seemed reasonable. 

In a last minute panic you had had your hair and makeup done. You’d be damned if your cosmetic skills were going to let the team down. 

Your stomach flip flopped as you rode the elevator to Kylo’s floor, nervous excitement coursing through your body. 

You knocked on his front door and waited. 

The door opened. Your jaw went slack as you took in the glory that was Kylo in a tux.

“Wow.” You breathed, walking in the door. 

He was frozen in place, slowly taking you in.

He met your gaze, “Y/n, you look—..fuck you look amazing—...beautiful.” 

“I- this” you motioned at your dress and shoes, “this is too much-...what I mean is, thank you, it’s so generous, but-... fuck Kylo, Manolo’s? McQueen? I just about passed out when I op-”

He cut off your babbling by stepping forward and grabbing the back of your neck, greeting your lips with a bruising kiss.

“So you like them then?” He smiled, against your mouth. 

“I love them. I—” he again swallowed your words, his kiss slow and passionate.

He traced along your collarbone with his fingers, “should have got you a necklace.” He mused, breaking the kiss.

“No…” you shook your head, sighing as his soft lips kissed down your neck. 

“Stop being so oppositional.” He murmured, lips still planting delicate kisses on your décolletage.

You huffed. He stood up to full height, eyes twinkling. 

“Accept it, Kitten. I’m going to spoil you. I want to.”

You sighed, fingering the lapels of his tux, “it makes me a bit uncomfortable” you grumbled, “so much money…”

“I don’t have anything else to spend my money on.” He said softly. You felt a twinge of sadness. “Do you want to know why I got you that dress?”

“Mmmm why?” 

“The collection was inspired by art nouveau which you said you loved. Remember, you showed me that work by Klimt?  Also I knew you would look incredible in it.” 

You look up at him, right into the dark amber of his eyes. You were moved.

“Are you serious?” You murmured in wonder.

He nodded, eyes crinkling with a smile, notably chuffed at your reaction.

“Kylo… this is, wow—...I’m really touched. I have only known you what? 8 or 9 months and this is the most thoughtful gift I have ever….” you trailed off. Feeling a wave of emotion that made you choke up.

“Oh, Kitten, I didn't mean to upset you.” He soothed, pulling you into his chest, it felt so safe there, engulfed by his arms.

“It’s a good upset.” You sniffed, pressing your face to his chest. 

“Oh shit! Fuck!” You pulled away, “fucking makeup, You inspected his shirt and tuxedo jacket, relieved to find no traces of foundation.

Kylo looked at you amused. “I wouldn’t have been totally upset if we couldn’t go because my shirt got stained.”

“Behave.” You grinned giving him a playful smack on the chest before taking his hand, “come on, we better go.”

-

You stepped through the main door of the venue. People were milling around everywhere, beautifully dressed women and dapper men chatting loudly, armed with drinks.

Kylo took your hand and squeezed gently.

“What these things are good for is the booze.” He said as he steered you towards the bar. 

You were soon armed with generously poured cocktails. 

“I’m going to apologise in advance for the incredibly boring conversation.” He said in a low voice.

“It’s ok, I have to go to shit like this for the gallery all the time. Keep the patrons happy, fundraising and all that jazz.”

“Probably more interesting people than this bunch.” He grimaced.

As if on queue a deep voice boomed, “Dr Ren!”

An older gentleman ambled up to Kylo and whacked him on the back jovially. “How are you son?!” 

They shook hands, “great to see you again Sir!” 

The man turned his attention to you, you smiled politely.  

“Ren, who is this lovely lady you have with you?”

“This is Dr y/l/n, y/n is the director at the city art gallery.” He introduced you, a touch of pride in his voice. “y/n, this is Sir David Walker, chair of the medical council.”

“Lovely to meet you Sir.” You shook his hand.

“Likewise, likewise.” He smiled at you warmly. “Excellent to have such bright young minds among us old decrepit lot.”

You laughed as he turned back to Kylo. 

“So where have you been hiding this one, Ren, keeping her away from all this malarkey as long as possible?.” He joked. 

Kylo’s hand crept to the small of your back, where it rested.

You sipped away at your drink as they got into a conversation about the stock market, nodding when it seemed appropriate. 

You crept away at one point, getting another round of drinks for you both. 

You came back to find Kylo alone, you handed him his drink. 

“Told you.” He grinned.

“Oh stop, he was very nice.” You chided, sipping your drink.

-

2 hours later you were many cocktails deep and chatting away to whoever was around, Kylo was a few steps away with a group of men discussing the driest topics known to man. You had tapped out pretty quickly, opting for another drink and mingling.

 His eyes drifted every now and then, checking on you. If you caught his eye you would wink. 

-

It was nearing midnight when you came back to each other. 

You were leaning against a pillar, watching some of the guests dancing outrageously. Kylo came up behind you and slipped his hands around you. 

“You look sooooooooo fucking hot, Kitten.” He murmured in your ear.

Oh he was tipsy. Definitely tipsy. Handsy as well. His hands brushing the underside of your breasts.

“Hiiiiiiii baby.” You grinned, reaching back and stroking his face. “Are you drunk?”

“A little, I’m also hungry, all they have is fucking canapés the size of thimbles.”

“Oh god don’t even talk about food, I’m wasting away here.” Your stomach growled as if in agreement.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here and get pizza.” He decided.

“Now we are fucking talking!”

You were feeling rather tipsy as well, your feet not quite coordinating as you wished. You swore as you stumbled a little. 

“Fucking martinis.” You grumbled, as Kylo’s arm shot out to steady you.

-

You managed to get yourselves down the road and into a pizza shop. Collapsing gratefully into a booth.

Because you were both slightly inebriated, ordering 3 pizzas seemed like an amazing idea, because how could you ever choose? 

When the table was heaving with giant pizzas you realised the absurdity of your order. 

“Babe, smile- this is fucking ridiculous.” Kylo laughed, holding up his iPhone. You posed with your slice of pizza, grinning at the camera. 

He snapped a few, chuckling. 

You both did an impressive job at getting through most of the pizza. Glad to soak up some of the booze sloshing in your stomach. 

Feeling less like a legless teenager, you held Kylo’s hand as you walked down the street. A breeze picked up and you shivered. 

Pausing, Kylo took off his tuxedo jacket and draped it over your shoulders. 

“What a gentleman, thank you.” You smiled, kissing his hand softly. 

“Looks good on you.” He winked, as he opened the Uber app on his phone. 

The car pulled up within minutes. Kylo pulled your body into his, in the back seat, keeping you warm. 

-

You unlocked your front door, “welcome to my humble abode, it’s not quite Casa Ren, but I like it.” 

Kylo walked into your apartment and his eyes flitted around. 

It wasn’t small, but it wasn’t big either, somewhere in the middle. The walls were covered in art, well actually, anything that made you happy really. 

“This is so…..you.” He smiled, seeming much more relaxed than you had expected, “it smells like you.”

“I hope you’ll be comfortable here.” You said softly, tucking yourself under his arm. He kissed the top of your head, wordlessly. 

“Can you undress me Daddy?” You whispered, snuggling into him.

You felt him freeze, and exhale with a soft hum.

“Just let me know if i take it too far or something ok? I’ve never done this...er, roleplay” you looked up at him biting your lip.

He chuckled, eyes fiery “neither have I Kitten, but say it again.”

“Dadddddy.” 

“Fuck.”

“Show Daddy the pretty lingerie he got you, Kitten.” 

You took off the dress carefully. He didn’t take his eyes off you. You looked at him and twirled. 

“What do you think, Daddy?” You asked with a little smile. 

“Jesus Christ, come here.” He said softly. 

You walked and stood in front of him. 

“What’s that in your trousers Daddy?” You asked coyly gazing at his obvious erection, before being unable to control yourself and letting out a laugh. 

His hand landed on your backside fairly hard, making you yelp.

He was grinning, “why don’t you put your hand in there and find out little girl?”

You pushed him against the wall and worked his belt open. You watched his face as you put your hand into his briefs and wrapped your fingers around his cock. 

Sucked in air through clenched teeth and met your gaze. 

You widen your eyes, “so big Daddy!”

He smirked. You were both finding this whole roleplay comical, but it was quickly becoming insanely sexy, you were getting lost in the moment.

“Do you think you can fit it in your mouth Kitten?” He almost purred.

“I can try my best, Daddy.” 

“That’s my good girl.”

You hummed happily at his words, getting down on your knees and pulling down his trousers and briefs.

Wrapping your hand back around the base you began to kitten lick his tip. He leant his head back against the wall making a strangled sound. 

Flattening your tongue you licked him in one slow motion from base to tip, pausing to tease that one spot you knew drove him wild.

“Hhhhnggh good gi-... jesus!” You took him entirely in your mouth without warning, until you gagged.

You sat back on your feet and pouted up at him, “it’s too big, Daddy.” 

His eyes crinkled with amusement, “Shall i take you to bed, little girl?” he asked, kicking off his shoes and trousers. 

You nodded eagerly.

“Use your words, Kitten.”

“Yes, please Daddy.”

He motioned for you to stand up, when you were on your feet he picked you up. 

He carried you to your bedroom, your legs wrapped around his waist.

“Don’t fucking stop with this, it’s so fucking sexy babe.” he breathed in your ear as he walked. 

You chuckled, “this is fun, Daddy.”

He growled, before placing you gently on the bed.

He slowly took off his shirt, you watched, you could almost see his mind ticking.  

“What do you want me to do, Daddy?” you smiled, leaning back on your arms. 

“You can start by taking off those panties and showing Daddy your pussy.” he said casually.

You lifted your hips and slid the tiny thong off, kicking it at him. Leaning back on your elbows you spread your legs wide. 

“Touch yourself, tell me how wet you are.” he instructed, roughly. 

“Yes Daddy.” you purred, taking two fingers and running it through your folds with a little groan. 

He looked at you expectantly, now completely naked, cock angrily red and erect. 

“It’s very wet Daddy, what does that mean?” you asked with a smirk. 

“It means, little girl, that you are ready for Daddy’s cock.” he breathed.

You nodded in agreement, grinning as he got onto the bed next to you and lay on his back, then patted his thighs, “come sit here Kitten, Daddy wants to see your pretty tits bounce in the lingerie he got you.” 

You clambered over his thighs eagerly, dragging your pussy over his thigh greedily. 

He grabbed your hips and lined you up, so you hovered just above the tip of his weeping cock. 

He pushed you down onto his cock agonisingly slowly, watching your face intently as it contorted with pleasure, little whimpers tumbling from your lips as he stretched you out. It wasn't until he had you fully sheathed that he threw his head back with a loud moan. 

“Good girl, good girl, good girl.” he moaned. 

You used all your willpower to stay still and wait for instruction. 

“Fuck, Kitten, move baby girl.” he hissed, taking your hips again and setting a pace for you.

“Perfect, you’re perfect.” he moaned as you moved up and down, rolling your hips slightly. 

His eyes did indeed watch your tits bounce in the bustier, hands caressing your thighs. 

Your hands crept in between your legs, seeking your clit. He batted your hand away and replaced your fingers with the pad of his thumb.

“Oh god, Ky-..Daddy-” you cried out as he pressed firmly on your clit and began to thrust to meet your movements. 

“Need to cum Kitten?” he asked, pausing his thumbs movement on your clit.

“Mmmmm yes, yes please, Daddy, please!” you pleaded. 

He doubled his efforts, sending you barreling toward climax with a gasp. 

You came with a sob, chanting, “Daddydaddydaddydaddy.”

He flipped you both over, so you could lie bonelessly as he held your legs to his chest as he thrust into you to reach his own climax with a loud growl. 

He collapsed next to you panting, “That was…”

“Hot.” you finished before laughing and rolling over, tucking yourself under his arm. 

[regrettablewritings]

Preferences: Guilty Pleasures

Characters: Okoye, Lucifer Morningstar, Dewey Finn, Peter B. Parker, Ahkmenrah

Okoye

Okoye is straightforward and stony upon first impressions. And, admittedly, even afterward. The only real difference is that, if one gets to know her better, they might find shock in the fact that in spite of her appearance, she Dora leader actually likes sweets. However, it’s not sweet things in general that Okoye feels guilty for enjoying: It’s Starbucks.

Starbucks is the antithesis of everything Okoye is associated with: Supremely un-Wakandan, a chain establishment, and overall just not worth the absurd cost. Not to mention superbly unhealthy when compared to the rest of a fighter’s typical diet. But yet you can bet that every time she needs to go out of the country or off-continent, there’s an invasive shout for joy at the possibility that she might be able to get her hands on a Frappucino (followed by an internal scolding).

She can’t even explain exactly why she likes it; there are plenty of good, even healthier sweet things back in Wakanda -- heck, back anywhere else!

But it’s a bit like when someone craves the cheap taste of school pizza over a legit pie cooked in a stone hearth: She just loves the sugary sweetness, the application of whipped cream to an already tooth-rottingly saccharine icy drink, the addition of chocolate. But Bast, she also hates it. But ever since T’Challa practically shoved a grande cup of caramel frappucino into her hands, she hasn’t felt entirely the same.

Against her better judgement, she’s more or less unintentionally tried 45% of the menu drink-wise. She doesn’t particularly care much for the food part of the establishment, though if she should ever find herself in one during the fall, she might indulge in a chunky slice of pumpkin bread under the conviction that it’s healthy enough for being gourd-related. Never mind that it’s just a cinnamon mixture with more sugar than actual pumpkin-derived anything.

Really, of all those mentioned on this list, Okoye is the one who probably feels the most disappointed in herself whenever she indulges in her guilty pleasure: It’s a betrayal to her patriotism, to her dignity, and to her attempts to eat healthy. But damn, if this type of betrayal doesn’t taste so addicting . . .

Lucifer Morningstar

The thing about Lucifer is that it’s actually a bit hard for him to feel any regrets over liking anything; he’s the Devil, after all, so his whole thing is about embracing the things that make you feel good. And even besides that, he’s mostly managed to skate by in his time on Earth by categorizing things as Stuff He Likes, Stuff He Tolerates, Stuff He Doesn’t Bother With, and Stuff Humans Seem to Enjoy But He Doesn’t Quite Get. It’s a tad restricted of a system but you can’t argue with results.

However, just because something is difficult doesn’t mean that it’s impossible. The Devil can, in fact, recognize absurdity in liking certain things. Hence why, to a point, he’s fallen prey to his own bizarre pleasures: The Devil has guilty pleasures, and it’s in stupid YouTube videos, Vine, and TikTok.

After he finally drank the Kool-Aid and got himself a smart phone, it was only a matter of time before Lucifer fell down the rabbit hole that is YouTube prank videos and strange uploads about nonsense and animal humor. It was also only a matter of time before he found himself stumbling into Vine compilations. The Celestial is terrifically mystified by the creative power of humans, managing to tell entire stories and peak comedy in only a span of seven seconds. But he’s also quite loathe to have realized it’s been long defunct by the time he’s discovered it.

He’s even more loathe to find himself making references in his daily life: He has actually quietly blurted out, “I sure hope it does” in response to seeing a Road Work Ahead sign, causing Chloe some confusion (and Lucifer lots of embarrassment). He has referred to a culprit as “Jared, Age 19″. Since discovering Vine, there has been at least one night wherein he and a bed mate were sitting there with barbecue sauce on his tiddies, but that was by sheer coincidence.

But eventually the Vine compilation well dried up, and the inevitable transfer over to TikTok happened. And Luci honestly doesn’t know what to make of TikTok. He would describe it as Vine’s Molly-addicted cousin based on its obsession with dancing, but the dances are so stationary that even that doesn’t seem quite right. The videos on the platform are also much more . . . bizarre. And some of them admittedly trigger a fight-or-flight response in him, to which he always chooses the third option of freezing if only so he can keep watching the train wreck unfold before his eyes.

The trouble with TikTok, he’ll admit to himself, is that it’s not as easy to find iconic content the same way he could with Vine. However, this isn’t to say that he hasn’t found anything worth watching over and over and over again . . .

(Let’s just say the “Wolf Pack Compilation” lives in his head rent-free, and he’s both too amused by it and too overwhelmed by its vibe to try and evict it.)

Dewey Finn

Dewey is . . . a special case. Given that he associates messy living and indulging in one’s pleasure a part of the rocker lifestyle, he’s generally quick to embrace whatever makes him happy. He’s very upfront about his interests and is arguably almost incapable of feeling shame. But it’s in there: Deep down. No, not in himself -- in his Spotify. Specifically, a Spotify account made on an email he never uses because it was made specifically to create this separate, uber secret playlist.

One marked “Actual Musical Bops.”

Dewey hates musicals: They’re cheesy, uninspired, gaudy, ridiculous, totally aimed at chicks with weird fantasies that he could never aspire to, and the music is just overall unimpressive. And yet, somehow, against his music elitist nature, a handful have managed to slip through the cracks. At the very least, a handful of numbers have clawed their way past his defenses and into his ear, where they now live rent-free.

In spite of his best efforts, the problems are that he’s a New Yorker, so it’s inevitable that he hears a song or two; and also that, as an instructor (to wealthy New York tweens whose families can afford frequent tripes to the Great White Way, no less), he’s definitely going to wind up hearing about some shows and their stand-out numbers: Against his will, he knows the lyrics to “My Shot”; he has cried in the secrecy of his apartment to “When I Grow Up”; in the never-necessary reason he needs to remember how many minutes there are in a year, he sings it inside his head; hell, he’s even found himself trying to figure out the electric guitar riff from “The Phantom of the Opera” during his down time.

What’s all the more embarrassing is that, given how he presents himself as a music elitist, there’s just no way he can come back from this if anyone were to know. He has to catch himself when he finds himself humming “Johanna” in the teacher’s lounge. He scowls at himself when he can’t sleep and gives in and starts playing “No One is Alone.” He wants to kick his thick ass every time he realizes he’s excited to have stumbled across a “slime tutorial” on YouTube, this one with better quality than the last. The reason he actually put a password on his phone wasn’t out of privacy like a sensible person would, but out of a need to make sure that no one ever found out that he had downloaded the entire Beetlejuice soundtrack, including jankily-recorded songs that never made it to the official cast recording for whatever reason!

And should anyone ever find out about any of this, Dewey has a plan: “Oh, I’m doing research. I’m studying these songs so I can give the kids a lesson on what not to do as actually competent musicians.”

But the lesson would never actually come. Mainly because he keeps prolonging his “research” . . .

He’s also developed a bit of a soft spot for My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic due to some students gushing about it, but he would rather sooner die than ever be associated with the term “brony.”

Peter B. Parker

Peter is at a point where he’s too tired to really care about the idea of guilty pleasures. The way he sees it, there are bigger priorities at stake than worrying about someone finding out about your love of some hokey activity or food or form of entertainment.

Besides, he’s a New Yorker: There’s way weirder stuff for people to just not pay any real attention to. Hence why he thinks nothing of his bizarre eating habits. And no, this isn’t referring to his disastrous appetite: This is about his tendency to eat food with his hands. Foods that, well, he really should probably utilize eating utensils for.

To be fair, this habit has always existed in him in some form or another, especially since, as Spider-Man, he often needs to eat food on the go. But during the time he spent living the life of a depressed bachelor, it came out in full force. On the rare occasion he wasn’t eating a food that deserved to be eaten by hand, he often found himself loathing the idea of doing the dishes afterward. There would be days he’d feel only slightly less depressed; enough to make a box of Kraft Mac n Cheese in the pot, but not enough to avoid cutting out the middle man.

He’s thankful the craptastic apartment wasn’t also see-through because if it were, he’s positive his neighbors would’ve thought they were bearing witness to a man’s breakdown as he wept into a pot of macaroni and cheese, his hand full of the stuff, while wearing a Spider-Man costume. (And, to be fair, they actually would be.)

In addition to this, there were also those nights where he would be prepared to actually tuck in to a plate of spaghetti, only for some crime going on elsewhere in the city to drag him away. By the time he’d return, the plate would’ve been cold and his energy too depleted to want to even dream about cleaning more than he already had to.

The great news is that he’s thankfully done a 180, now able and willing (if begrudgingly) to clean up after himself. But bad news is that this feral man will still eat a fully-loaded baked potato like an apple. In a park. In front of women and children. He’s just too tired to care anymore. He’s aware of the guilt in this as a concept, but he’s also aware that he needs to take whatever happiness he can get out of whatever he does. And if that means eating everything by hand, then so be it!

Ahkmenrah

Funnily enough, Ahkmenrah doesn’t seem to experience much of any shame for enjoying the things most might feel the need to hide: He’s constantly curious and has missed out on a lot over the centuries, so why should he feel bad for wanting to indulge in them? Celebrity gossip is just a more fun version of the palace gossip he’d grown up hearing as a boy; reality TV is like watching a play, but with much more fights, less deaths, and more faulty romances; and sloppy meatball subs are like a feast for a man of his time!

Besides, he’s a king: Kings shouldn’t have to feel embarrassment over what the common folk might think.

And yet . . . It took some time, but eventually Ahkmenrah did experience it: Guilt in his pleasures.

He couldn’t even recall where it had all started. Maybe he was searching for more content to swallow after the most recent season of his new favorite show had ended? Whatever the case, he wound up biting off more than he could chew when he stumbled upon . . . fanfiction.

The adorable yet sad thing is that he didn’t even think anything of it at first. It wasn’t until he brought up a ship he’d invested his last few nights awake exploring on the computer: Nobody knew what the crap he was talking about, so of course he felt the need to explain it. But the more he talked, the more perplexed his friends looked. And the more he could feel his cheeks and ears burn.

Oh, he thought. Is this . . . embarrassment? Is that what this feels like? Oh, this is just foul.

Thankfully, nobody pressured him to keep talking about it, but the poor king sure as heck didn’t feel much of a desire to talk any further about it. But he needed to talk to somebody about his newly acquired “feels” as those online were calling them.

Joining fanfiction-oriented sites was the next obvious step, of course, but he’s experienced mixed feelings about it: On one hand, it’s nice to talk with people who share similar views and excitement about a fictional couple. But on the other, the digital wars that have broken out both disturb him and bring out the worst in him.

Like, of course there are bigger things to deal with than whether or not So-So is better off with Him-Ham, but if you truly think that Blah-Blah and Himhaw are a healthy relationship, then you can go do a service and bury yourself in the desert sands to provide substance to the hungry beetles with your flesh --

Suffice to say, a lot of the guilt in this pleasure seems to come from the fact that Ahk can get a little too emotionally invested if the work is really good. He tries to limit his interactions to commenting and praising certain works, and encouraging content creators. However, he’s also contemplated contributing his own pieces of fiction to the fandom . . .

[hyperactivepuppy]

Parties Are The Worst - Chapter 1

New fic! I found this partially written story in my google docs from months ago and thought some of you might enjoy it. ^.^  I had way too much fun writing all of the students being crazy XD.

Summary: Todoroki gets dragged to a party at Kirishima and Bakugo’s new apartment, but turns out his tolerance for alcohol is not as high as he thought... **Note—this is set when all of the students are in their early 20s, so there is no underage drinking :).

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28635390/chapters/70190049

~*~

Parties were the worst. They were loud, confusing, and extremely overwhelming. Why on earth would anyone choose to attend such an event?

Todoroki had been wondering this for the past hour, tucked away in the furthest corner of the room to try and escape the noise.

When Kirishima had gleefully announced the event that Monday, he immediately declined. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Kirishima—he just didn’t want to spend an evening crammed in with a bunch of hyped up 20-year-olds. Then Midoriya came along with his wide, innocent, puppy eyes and somehow managed to change his mind.

So here he was, trapped at Kirishima’s apartment while the entire class of 1A shrieked and danced. Someone had dragged all of the couch cushions onto the floor and Mina and Sero were diving off the wooden frame into a mound of pillows. Loud, obnoxious music boomed through the room and Kaminari was screaming along with the lyrics in a horrible attempt at karaoke.

Todoroki wanted to leave. The whole atmosphere was just too much. It was too loud—too overwhelming. And to make it all worse, he didn’t even have Midoriya there to help ground him. Honestly, he wouldn’t even be there if Midoriya hadn’t asked him so sweetly the day before. He’d promised to stay with him all evening and said they could sit in the corner and talk. But Kaminari somehow managed to burn all the frozen pizzas and both Midoriya and Yaoyorozu had gone to the store to buy more.

So now he was alone—anxious, tired, and with no escape. His head was starting to ache from the constant chatter, making him even less tolerant of the chaotic environment.

Sighing, he pushed away from the wall and headed toward the snack table. Maybe a drink would help. At least it would give him something to do. Methodically, he pulled a plastic cup from the stack and filled it with punch.

As he sipped the cold drink, he pulled out his phone, smiling a little as he scrolled through cat videos on Tiktok. Watching cute kittens calmed his anxious mind, but it also distracted him enough that he didn’t notice Kaminari sneak up behind him until the blond yelled in his ear.

“Hey, Todobro, wanna make drinks with us?” Kaminari asked, grinning dopily at him.

Todoroki started, looking up from his phone. He was about to politely decline the offer and head back over to his designated corner, when he remembered something Midoriya had said that morning.

It will be fine! I’ll stay with you the whole time. And if you’re feeling anxious, you could always try having a little to drink. No pressure or anything, but a bit of alcohol might help you relax a bit and enjoy yourself more.

At the time, he had dismissed the idea, wary of the adverse effects of said beverage. He’d seen what some of his classmates acted like drunk and he wasn’t too keen on throwing away his neatly filed inhibitions and making a fool of himself. Even though they were of age now, he hadn’t tried much alcohol. It was usually served at parties—something he mostly tried to avoid.

A sharp cough startled him back and he blushed when he noticed Kaminari still standing there, hand on hip as he waited for an answer. Mina had joined him and was giving Todoroki wide puppy dog eyes.

He swallowed. “Oh, uh… sure, I guess.” He still wasn’t sure if it was the best idea, but it had to be better than standing against the wall stressing. At least he hoped so.

“Yes!!” Mina punched a hand in the air, rushing over to the kitchen. “Kiri, do you have any tequila?”

Kirishima poked his head around the door, eyebrows raised in interest. “We making drinks?”

“Yup!” Kaminari cheered, almost dropping the two glasses he’d pulled from the cupboard.

It was almost as if Bakugo could sense the near accident as he gave Kaminari a seething look. “Watch what you touch, Pikachu. This isn’t your damn house.”

“Chill, man. I’ve got it under control,” Kirishima soothed, patting his boyfriend’s arm gently. “This just comes along with hosting a party at your own flat. Now do you want a drink or not?”

Bakugo rolled his eyes but got out another three glasses. “Whatever.”

Meanwhile, Kaminari was carefully pouring pineapple juice into a glass, tongue sticking out in concentration.

Mina hovered over his shoulder, watching intently.

“Then you add two shots of tequila,” Kaminari explained, nodding expertly like he’d been mixing drinks his whole life.

“Ohhhh.” Mina measured out two shot glasses and handed them over.

“You sure it’s two?” Bakugo asked sceptically.

“Course I am! What, you think I’ve never done this before?” Kaminari dumped the liquid into the glass and started adding carefully sliced lemon peel.

“Dude, are you putting the peel in there?!” Kirishima asked, only just noticing what was going on.

Kaminari nodded, waving the lemon in front of Kirishima’s face to emphasise the point. “Yeah! They give it that extra zest.”

“Omg. You guys are gonna feel so sick,” Bakugo drawled.

Mina shrugged, taking the glass and sipping at it. “Mm! Super good. You were right about the lemon peel, it does add flavour!”

Kaminari beamed, already mixing up another drink. “Here, Todoroki, try it!” He practically shoved the glass at Todoroki, sloshing some of the liquid over the side.

Todoroki blinked in surprise. “Uh, thanks.” He looked down at the glass, frowning as he examined the contents. It seemed a little weird, but who was he to judge Kaminari’s mixology skills when he knew nothing about the subject?

Tentatively, he took a sip of the drink. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that bad. A little bitter and the chunks of lemon peel were kind of weird, but overall it tasted pretty good. Shrugging, he tilted his head back and downed the rest in one go.

When he looked down, Kaminari and Mina were staring at him with huge eyes, expressions of shock mirrored on both of their faces.

“Dude, you’re not supposed to chug it!” Kaminari shouted, barely getting the words out between bursts of laughter.

Todoroki blinked down at the empty glass in his hand. “Oh.” He frowned.

“Still, those are insane skills you got there, Todo. I want you on my team next time we play beer pong,” Mina added, watching him with jealous eyes.

Todoroki had no idea what ‘beer pong’ was but figured it was one of those things that he would be made fun of for if he asked, so he kept quiet.

“Okay, now—who wants jello shots?!”

~*~

Thirty minutes later, Kaminari and Mina had introduced him to a whole array of new drinks, some of which he was suspiciously sure had only been invented that evening.

Surprisingly, he was actually starting to enjoy himself. The alcohol surrounded him in a pleasant buzz, steadily clawing away at his fierce barriers until he was laughing along with the other two.

“Okay, try this—pink lemonade, beer, and that weird rum Shinso likes.” Kaminari held out a glass, giggling so hard the cup shook in his hand.

“Ew!” Mina cried, sticking her tongue out in revulsion. “Kaminari, that sounds disgusting!”

“Can’t know ‘til you try it.” Kaminari raised the glass to his lips and took a long sip, spilling half the contents down his front. Giggling, he pulled away. “Oops. Here, Todo, you gotta try!”

Normal inhibitions dissolved, Todoroki accepted the cup and downed the rest of the drink.

“Dude, you should do karaoke with us!” Kaminari gasped suddenly, eyes lighting up with excitement. He grabbed the mic from the counter where he’d discarded it while they made drinks. “I bet you have a hella gorgeous voice.”

“Yeah!” Mina cut in, waving enthusiastically. “Don’t worry, you can’t be any worse than this idiot.” She snatched the mic from Kaminari, giggling at his gasp of outrage.

“Rude!” he cried, trying to grab the mic back.

“Omg you two. Cut it out,” Jirou said, suddenly appearing as if summoned by the prospect of music. She rolled her eyes dramatically. “If you keep arguing we’re never gonna get Todoroki to sing.” She held out an insistent hand. “Give it.”

Mina sighed and reluctantly handed over the mic. “Fineeeee. But only because I wanna see Todoroki sing.”

Jirou smirked and held the device out to Todoroki, ignoring Kaminari’s dramatic whine as he stumbled over his own feet trying to get over to the karaoke machine and collapsed into the pile of pillows that littered the floor.

“Oh, uh, no thanks,” Todoroki said quickly, taking a step back. No way was he going to sing in front of all his classmates.

“Aw, come on!” Mina cried, pouting. “It’s just for fun!”

Todoroki shook his head, taking another step back. “I don’t want to.” Or at least, he shouldn’twant to. But for some reason he didn’t feel all that opposed to the idea. Which was strange because he would never normally consider singing in front of people.

“Aw, don’t be such a scaredy cat, man!” Kaminari whined from the floor. He sat up, messy hair flopping over his eyes. “How come you can face villains without batting an eye but singing a little karaoke has you shaking?”

Todoroki frowned, genuinely perplexed by the blunt statement. When Kaminari put it like that, it did seem rather silly. Surely there wasn’t any harm in giving it a go… Midoriya always encouraged him to try new things.

“Okay,” he said, utterly shocking the three students gathered around him.

Mina gaped at him. “Sorry, what?!”

“I’ll do it,” Todoroki clarified, taking the mic from Jirou’s limp hand.

It only took a moment for Mina’s excitement to return in full force. Squealing in delight, she ran over to set up the karaoke machine. “What song do you want?”

Todoroki shrugged. He probably wouldn’t recognise any of the songs anyway. He’d never been very caught up on the current popular music. “What do they have?”

“Hm…” Mina tapped her chin. “Come look.”

Todoroki nodded, moving over to peer at the little booklet in Mina’s hands. After scanning the list of unfamiliar songs, his eyes finally settled on a familiar title and his heart gave a little leap of excitement. “This one,” he said, running his finger over the small print.

Mina’s eyes widened. “Dude! I didn’t know you liked the Greatest Showman?!”

Todoroki nodded solemnly, as if this should be common knowledge. “It’s an artistic masterpiece.”

Kaminari giggled from the floor. “Kay, let’s hear it then, Mr. artistic masterpiece.”

Mina broke into a violent fit of laughter as she pressed the ‘start’ button on the screen. “Alright, take it away!”

Todoroki raised the mic to his lips and breathed out a slow sigh, watching the TV screen as the opening notes of “This Is Me” filled the room. He almost felt like he was floating, riding a giddy wave of euphoria that really shouldn’t come from standing in front of a crowd. But this was happening and he felt greatso he sucked in a deep breath and began to sing.

“I am not a stranger to the dark. Hide away, they say, ‘cause we don’t want your broken parts. I’ve learned to be ashamed of all my scars. Run away, they say, no one’ll love you as you are. But, I won’t let them break me down to durst. I know that there’s a place for us. For we are glorious.”

Cheers erupted from his fellow classmates, sending his heart stuttering with a strange exhilaration. Feeling a little like he was whirling through an extremely realistic dream, Todoroki started the chorus with a heightened sense of conviction.

“When the sharpest words wanna cut me down. I’m gonna send a flood, gonna drown them out. I am brave, I am bruised, I am who I’m meant to be, this is me.”

By the time the song ended, Todoroki was positively glowing, his mind swept up in a giddy whirl of excitement.

The others seemed just as excited, whooping and hollering as Todoroki set the mic down.

“Omg! That was amazing!” Mina squealed, grabbing his hands and spinning him around so fast he almost tripped over his own feet.

“Thanks,” Todoroki gasped. Even though Mina had let him go, the room continued to spin around him, creating the unpleasant sensation that he was on one of those spinny theme park rides. He swallowed, reaching out for the wall to try and steady himself. God, he was dizzy.

“You should sing more often! You have such a pretty voice!” Mina continued, still bouncing around in excitement.

“Yeah!” Kaminari enthused, stepping up beside them and throwing an arm over Mina’s shoulder.

Todoroki barely heard them. Suddenly he wasn’t having fun anymore. The swaying room sent his stomach pitching and he wanted nothing more than to lie down on the floor and close his eyes until the spinning went away.

The others seemed to notice his distress, voicing their concerns as they pressed in on him.

“Whoa, you okay bro?” Kaminari asked, eyeing him warily.

Todoroki nodded, mumbling a feeble reply. “Yeah.” His body burned with an uncomfortable heat, entirely different from his own fire. “Jus’ gonna si’down for a mi’te.” He stumbled toward the couch, reaching out blindly as he tripped over his own feet.

Suddenly Kirishima was there, catching his swaying body before he could fall and guiding him over to the couch.

Todoroki groaned, closing his eyes when the change in position aggravated his already queasy stomach. He sucked in a few deep breaths, pressing his cheek against the couch in an attempt to ground himself.

“You good?” Kirishima asked, crouching down next to the couch and laying a hand on Todoroki’s shoulder.

Todoroki nodded feebly, wincing when the small movement intensified his dizziness. Even with his eyes closed the room seemed to spin in lazy circles around him. He swallowed. “Yeah. Jus’ got kinda diz’y.”

Kirishima hummed in understanding. “Yeah, that’s the downside to alcohol. I think maybe you should slow down for a bit, man.”

Just the thought of drinking anything more sent his already uncomfortable stomach churning. He swallowed again, shifting a little on the couch to try and get more comfortable.

“He okay?” A voice suddenly spoke above them

Mina and Kaminari gathered around the couch, watching Todoroki in concern.

Kirishima nodded, hand still on Todoroki’s shoulder. “I think he just had a little too much to drink,” he explained.

Mina and Kaminari exchanged guilty looks.

“Oh…” Mina breathed.

Kirishima frowned, brow furrowed in suspicion. “What did you guys do?”

“Nothing!” Kaminari defended, waving his arms wildly. “We were just making drinks. Todoroki was all for it!”

“Yeah! We didn’t force him or anything,” Mina added.

Kirishima sighed. “Fine, fine. I believe you.” He glanced down at Todoroki’s pale face. “I guess he’s just not really used to drinking.”

Kaminari couldn’t suppress a grin. “Omg, who would have ever guessed perfect IcyHot was such a lightweight!”

Todoroki pressed his face further into the cushions, trying to block out the sounds of the others talking. He really didn’t feel well. And Midoriya was still out with Yaoyorozu looking for stupid frozen pizza. Why oh why had he come to this stupid party?!

Another wave of nausea slammed over him, this one noticeably stronger. The taste of liquor brushed the back of his throat, bitter and rancid against his tongue. Gross—why was he tasting it again now?

You’re going to throw up, his mind supplied, almost as if it was annoyed with his inability to put the clues together.

Shakily, he pushed himself upright, swaying when dizziness slammed against him. He forced his eyes open, searching desperately for any indication of where Kirishima’s bathroom might be. Why hadn’t he asked about that earlier?

“Hey man, you okay?” Kirishima asked, startled by Todoroki’s sudden movement.

Todoroki swallowed, eyes falling to the ground. He knew he should get up and try to run to the bathroom, but his head was still spinning and he couldn’t get his limbs to respond.

“You aren’t looking so good… are you feeling sick?” Kirishima asked tentatively.

Todoroki nodded, pressing a fisted hand to his mouth to stifle a sudden burp. “I don’ wanna drink anym’re,” he mumbled, trying to swallow back the bitter saliva that suddenly flooded his mouth.

“I think he’s gonna hurl,” Kaminari put in, earning him an eye roll from Mina.

“Yeah, no kidding, dude. He’s greener than Midoriya’s hair.”

Todoroki groaned, closing his eyes again as his stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch. “‘M gonna throw up,” he mumbled, voice muffled by the hand covering his mouth.

“Shit, yeah, okay,” Kirishima swore, jumping to his feet. “Think you can make it to the bathroom?” He didn’t wait for a response, already grabbing Todoroki’s arm and dragging him to his feet.

Todoroki tried to steady himself, but as soon as he was on his feet, all traces of control evaporated and his stomach gave a violent heave and vomit rushed up his throat. He tried to bend over, but he was too dizzy to navigate properly and most of the vomit spilled down his front. He whimpered, coughing miserably.

“Shit!” Kirishima gasped, grabbing Todoroki’s arm as he swayed dangerously.

“Sor—” Todoroki tried to say, but was cut off by another rush of vomit. He wiped a hand across his mouth, groaning.

“Okay, okay. Come on. Let’s get you to the bathroom.” Kirishima hauled him across the room and down the first hallway, only just managing to get Todoroki situated over the toilet before he heaved again.

“I wanna go home,” he mumbled, gripping the edge of the toilet as he swayed. “C’n you get Izuku?”

Kirishima reached out, sweeping Todoroki’s fringe out of his eyes. “Midoriya isn’t here right now. He’s out with Yaoyorozu. But he’ll probably be back soon.”

Todoroki gave a miserable little sob, collapsing over the toilet with his arms laid across the lid to keep himself upright. Tears welled in mismatched eyes, blurring his already hazy vision. Kirishima was being really nice about the whole thing, but he wasn’t Midoriya. No one could replace Midoriya.

**To be continued**

[aiorevelations]

A Number, Not a Name: Part 16!

Last chapter for tonight! Feel free to share your thoughts and reactions if you like. We’d love to see them! : - )

15 years earlier:

Liana stared up at the ceiling of her room, gazing up at the stars projected by the galaxy projector. Her mother had loved astronomy or at least that was what she’d heard. She supposed she’d inherited her love for space and celestial objects from her. The stars always seemed to help whenever she was feeling sad and alone. Try her hardest to forget her father’s words from earlier, they had cut through her heart like a knife. Tears filled her eyes and a sob escaped her lips. 

She bit her lip back, trying not to cry. “Venus…” she whispered to herself, “so bright and beautiful.” Her eyes flitted over the ceiling. “And Jupiter, so large and colorful. I wish I was up there…in the sky,” her voice cracked, “away from all this.” 

Haunting images and scenes shook her. Her father lashing his hand across her face. His hand in a vice-like grip around her arm. Abusive words and insults spewing from his mouth. And her shrinking back from him in terror. 

A pang shot through her heart. Why couldn’t her father love her…if only for a moment. From the time she was born he had hated her. Make-believe - it was what had sustained her through the years. In her mind, she saw her fictional family, whose fictional details she’d memorized. Mom, obviously, was an astronomer. One of the best in the world. At least that’s how she saw her in her eyes. Every Sunday she’d make her signature chocolate cake. She and her sister would dash to the kitchen to offer her their help when what they really wanted was to get a small taste of the batter. By the time the cake was ready they, their mom, and the whole kitchen would be covered in flour. The result of one of their “famous” flour fights. Mom at first had disapproved of the whole thing and tried to put a stop to it. However, after being covered head to toe with flour on one occasion, she’d joined in on the fun. 

Dad was a botanist, and he preferred plants to people, except when it came to his family. Gumdrops and lollipops, he’d bring them home every Friday after work. Smiles would fill the living room as she and her sister would eagerly await their Dad’s arrival. He’d playfully pretend to be hurt that they only waited for the candy, not to greet him. They’d tell that wasn’t true and give him a huge hug. And he’d hug them back…both of them. 

Her sister…was the only part of her “family” grounded in reality. Her sister was Lena and Lena was her. Her voice. Her laugh. Her smile. Their epic “battles” in Scrabble. Nearly every time Milena would win to Liana’s frustration. Their happy place was Terzian lake. They’d swim and splash each other senseless. Laughs and giggles would fill the air. All their problems and troubles would melt away in the warm afternoon sun and it’d just be them…together and happy.

Liana turned over on the bed, burying her head in the comforter. Most times it was easier to just try and shut everything out, ignore the real world she was in and the ache in her heart. Tic-tock, tic-tock, the clock that graced her nightstand marked the minutes she laid there motionless on the bed. 

A soft hand gently touched her back. Rolling over Liana saw her sister glancing down at her, a worried look in her eyes. Safety, that’s what she felt whenever her sister was around. Despite his overwhelming hatred toward her, Norvan at least controlled his anger in his oldest daughter's presence.

Milena sat beside her on the bed. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be okay…just thinking.”

Milena tucked a curl behind her little sister’s ear. “Thinking about what?”

Liana looked down at her hands, her mind suddenly blank. What should she say? Tell her the truth. Shatter her view of their father. Reveal that beneath his masquerade as a supporting loving father he was a cruel monster, who she despised. Would she even believe her? For Milena, their dad was everything a girl would want in a father. He supported her and showered her with gifts and affection. He gave her the world. Worse what if Milena turned on her for saying such things. Lena was all that she had. Joy was a rarity in her life and, for her, Lena was its only source. No, she couldn’t risk losing the only light in her life.

“About…mom. I wish I knew what she was like. Do you remember her?”

Milena sighed “Not really. I mean I see her sometimes in my mind. But it’s not a memory. It’s more like…I don’t know.” She sniffed. “ Bits and pieces in time. Fragments. Like…a collection of moments and feelings. The warmth of her arms around me. The sound of her voice as she sang me lullabies. It was the only thing that could get me to sleep.”

Liana sat up. “She sounds…wonderful.”

“She was.” Milena gently rubbed her sister’s hand.

“I wish she was here.”

“Me too” Milena lied back on the bed. “When I think of Mom I feel…it’s hard to explain. It’s more like there’s something missing, an emptiness, rather than a feeling of loss. It’s hard to miss someone you can’t even truly remember.” She turned to face Liana “But I’m lucky I have you.” 

“And I’m lucky to have you.” Both girls smiled. 

“Which reminds me. Yesterday I was going through the things in my jewelry box. And found this” she held up a bracelet. 

“Mom’s old charm bracelet. I always loved the little stars on it.”

“I want you to have it.”

Liana shook her head. “No, no. Dad gave it to you on your tenth birthday.”

“And now I’m giving it to you.” She glanced up at the ceiling “I love stars but not as much as you do. I know Mom would have loved for you to have it. Also, think of it as a way to be closer to her.”

“I-I don’t know…”

“For me…please…I want you to have it.”

Liana relented and took the bracelet. “Okay…for you.” She silently placed it around her wrist and gave a small smile.

“It looks beautiful on you,” Milena commented.

“Thanks.” Liana softly replied, looking down at the bracelet.

“Hey,” Milena gently touched Liana’s shoulder causing her to look up at her older sister’s gaze. “I love you to Saturn and back.”

Liana gave a small laugh at her sister’s use of her favorite planet. “And I love you… to Venus and back.”

“No. No, don't use Venus.” Milena protested.

“Why not? It’s your favorite planet.”

“It’s closer to the earth than Saturn. And there’s no way you love me more than I love you.”

“Okay.” Liana thought for a second. “Then how about, we both love each other to Neptune and back. Since Neptune was the Roman god of the sea and the ocean, and the water is our happy place.”

Milena smiled. “I love that. To Neptune and back.”

“To Neptune and back.”

“Forever.” Milena took her sister’s hand.

Liana squeezed Milena’s hand back. “Forever.”

…..

Present-day:

Jason made his way up the bifurcated staircase to the ballroom. In the distance, he could hear Beethoven’s Für Elise resonating from the room. Some part of him felt a sense of relief that he had made it back to the confines of Dalmar’s home yet another was filled with dread. After the horrific scenes that had just unfolded before him, the last thing he wanted to do was to spend hours with the man behind it all. On the surface, he appeared exactly like any other gala attendee, animated and lively, yet inside a burning anger consumed his soul. 

He looked upon the sea of people gathered in the ballroom. How could these people wine and dine without a care in the world? While not even five miles away an innocent man had been tortured and murdered without a second thought. What he wouldn’t give to be able to take Dalmar down, right there, at that moment. To make him pay for all that he had done.

He saw now how easily what agents saw and experienced out on the field could make them slip into the darkness. Make their whole mission about vengeance instead of justice. Jason had heard stories of agents going rogue and deciding to kill their targets, rather than allowing them to be brought in. He’d told himself that he could never be that easily swayed. That no situation would ever get the best of him. He wished he hadn’t spoken so soon as he now realized that it wasn’t as easy as he had thought. It was one thing to be behind a desk, sticking to your code on the field was another. 

Jason scanned the vast room for Tasha. His eyes landed on her in the corner of the grand room. Dalmar was twirling her around, prompting a laugh from her. How could Tasha just casually giggle and dance with Dalmar like that?

It is what I'm supposed to be doing. It just feels so…like we should be doing more to help these people than playing a role at one of Dalmar’s galas.

He couldn’t help but feel affronted, he then saw Dalmar encircle both of his arms around Tasha, pulling her dangerously close to him. 

Of course, he's attracted to her. She looks even more beautiful and attractive in that dress. Who knows it might even work out to our advantage. If he likes her there’s probably less chance he’ll suspect us. Still, Jason couldn't shake the disgust and repulsion he felt seeing her in his arms.

As Jason walked closer to her Tasha saw him come into view. Immediately a sense of relief washed over her, yet she was still angry at him for choosing to sneak off. She called out to him. “Edward.”

“Mr. Delucas. How kind of you to grace us once again with your presence. I was thinking you had perhaps gotten lost.” Dalmar added. 

“Only in conversation with a lovely blonde,” Jason responded, which was partly true.

Dalmar chuckled. “I must confess I cannot understand how Ms. Tylerson has escaped your attention.”

“Actually, we tried before. It didn’t work out.”

Tasha smirked. “It’s true what they say about mixing business with pleasure, don’t. Eventually, we had to decide whether to be partners in business or life. And well that was an easy choice.”

Jason crossed his arms. “Yeah, for the sake of my sanity.”

“I was thinking of the money” she fired back.

Dalmar was somewhat taken aback by the exchange between the supposed exes. “So…Mr. Delucas, what do you think of this evening so far?” he asked, attempting to make conversation.

“It’s fine. Though with all due respect I’ve attended better events” Jason tersely replied.

Dalmar found himself surprised by Jason’s blunt response. Upon meeting him he’d struck him as someone who kept their inner feelings closed off from others. “And what about the works by Sargayan?”

“They’re fine I suppose. I prefer Surrealism” he responded curtly. Frankly, he was sick of humoring Dalmar. Talking with him as if it were as natural as breathing. As if he wasn’t responsible for the deaths of countless individuals.

Tasha found herself getting a little unnerved and even annoyed by Jason’s aggressive demeanor. He didn't seem himself, or at least the self she had become accustomed to for the past several days. Outwardly, he appeared very much the same but in his eyes, there was a passion, a fire. Images of Jason flooded through her mind from earlier that day confirming what she was nearly sure of, that look in his eyes, it hadn’t been there before he abruptly left the gala. She felt deep in her soul that something was different now. A shift of sorts had taken place which she only now realized had occurred. Things were different now; she didn't know what to expect. One thing she knew for sure: she didn't like it. Nor did she appreciate Jason’s behavior during the evening. It seemed almost to her that he was determined to blow his, not to mention her cover every chance he got. First by sneaking off into the woods and now starting a near verbal confrontation with their target. Completion of their assignment was the only thing that mattered in the end. Especially now when all that was left was to make it through the rest of the evening without being caught. This was no time to mess things up.

Tasha interjected. “I found the pieces to be quite lovely…as well as this evening. I also told Davit that we have to return to South Africa to attend to some business, but that we’ll be back on Wednesday when the weapons are delivered.”

Paying no attention to Tasha’s words, Dalmar directed his reply to Jason. “I had planned to save the highlight of this evening for later. But since you seem to be so bored with tonight’s festivities I’d say it’s time to liven things up a little. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Jason shrugged. “It’s your party. Besides why even ask me in the first place. You do whatever you want.” A touch of anger shone through his voice. One could feel the temperature in the room begin to rise. Beethoven’s Für Elise and the dancing about the ballroom came to a standstill. Whispers from the crowd filled the tense silence as they witnessed the unfolding scene. Everyone knew Dalmar wasn’t accustomed to being addressed in such a forward manner. The glowering expression on his face confirmed that much.

Dalmar walked closer to Jason. The two of them were standing nearly eye to eye. Anger burned in Dalmar’s eyes; his jaw was visibly clenched. He turned his head to Jason’s ear and sharply whispered. “I suggest you remember who is the guest and who is the host.” Dalmar stepped back from Jason and began making his way to the center of the room.

Tasha stood, her heart pounding, recognizing how close things had been to taking a downward spiral. She laid her hand on Jason's wrist; his pulse raced against her fingers. She looked earnestly at him, hoping he’d let it go. Jason sighed and unclenched his jaw. Patience had never been his strong suit. He never could just wait and sit back. Let things fall into place. He always wanted to take action and make things the way he wanted them to be. The way they should be. It didn’t help how easy it was for him to get angry. His parents were always telling him to learn how to control his anger, yet it seemed a part of him. 

Dalmar’s voice echoed throughout the room. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I want to thank you all for attending tonight’s event. I hope you’ve enjoyed yourselves.” The audience spoke and nodded in agreement. “This evening I have something to share with you all. Now I’m sure you all are probably acquainted with the person I’m about to introduce. She’s an extraordinary entertainer. Her voice and songs have captured us all. May I present Krudia’s own Ms. Jemma Kazarian.”

A tall young woman, with shining brown eyes and a beaming smile, came into view. In her hand, she held a microphone which she brought to her lips. The music started and Jemma’s melodious voice filled the room. Neither Jason nor Tasha paid attention to the song. The words seemed to blur in the background; their thoughts elsewhere.

…..

Outside, the sky was as dark as pitch, the sun long since set below the horizon. Tasha and Jason bid their goodbyes to Dalmar and then headed back to their hotel. They were silent on the way back to The Chardell. Tasha glanced out the tinted window of the BMW, burning to tell Jason what she thought of his actions at the gala. They had gathered all the information they needed, their mission was officially complete, yet she knew she couldn’t just ignore Jason's rash actions and behavior. They’d been lucky this time, or at least so it appeared, but what about the next time. True the odds were she probably wouldn’t be Jason’s partner on his next assignment. But what about his next partner, their security. The security of the mission. If Jason’s reckless streak continued on his assignments it was only a matter of time before something happened. Not if, when. Lives could be lost. National, even international security could be put at risk. Jason needed to be reined in before that happened and it was up to her to do that. 

He had to understand that this incident could have resulted in deeper consequences. His passion for helping others, for bringing down the bad guys, for trying to defend the free world, that was undeniable. But along with a desire to make the world a better place agents had to be able to exercise restraint, to know when to hold back. Jason’s relentless drive to catch the bad guys would do them no good if it got them killed. And if they were killed, or worse, successfully interrogated, it could spell disaster for the NSA. At the very least, it most certainly would prevent them from stopping Dalmar, something they couldn’t afford at any cost.

Crisp cool air hit them as they exited the car. How things had changed since they were last at their hotel. Jason had noticed Tasha was unusually quiet on the ride to The Chardell but assumed she was tired from the long evening. 

Once in his hotel room, Jason carefully pulled the pen out of his pocket and placed it next to the stationary on his nightstand. When it came to ensuring its security his best bet was putting it in a setting where it didn’t appear out of place. If it was seen in a safe or hidden somewhere it would be easy to determine that it wasn’t just a pen. 

A knock came from the door. Jason opened it and found Tasha standing in front of him, a serious expression on her face.

“I guess we need to talk,”  Jason spoke.

“Yes. We do” Tasha crossed her arms.

“I was just about to take a shower. So perfect timing.”

Tasha inwardly sighed. I could really use a shower. A long and very cold one to cool me off. 

Jason turned on the shower to its highest setting. “Since it’s late and we’re both tired, I’ll cut to the chase.” Jason took a breath, eager to tell Tasha of his success. “I got it. The intel we need. I took some shots of a file on Dalmar’s laptop. His plans, where the weapons are stored, it's all there. It’s all on my pen in the other room. Not only do we have intel on his plans we also have photographic evidence. That should make it an airtight case.”

“That’s…good,” Tasha replied in an even tone. “Dalmar pretty much told me the same. Took me to a bunker, showed me the weapons.”

Jason didn’t say anything for a moment. He was surprised by Tasha’s reaction. After how she’d stressed the importance of learning this info hours earlier, he had expected her to show more emotion now that they’d acquired the necessary intel. He could tell from the look on her face that something was wrong.

“You know I’d figured you’d be… I don’t know…more excited that we have the intel we need. What’s wrong?”

Tasha glanced to the side and shook her head in disbelief. Anger trembled through her; she knew she couldn’t hold back any longer. “What were you thinking? Speaking to Dalmar that way. Sneaking off like that. You jeopardized this entire operation. You could have easily blown our cover.”

“But I didn’t.” he firmly responded. “I don’t see any reason to get all bent out of shape.”

“Bent out of shape?” Tasha repeated his words, stunned he’d even say such a thing. Why Jason couldn’t see the seriousness of the situation and even regarded it as trivial, she couldn’t fathom.

“Look, there was a good chance Dalmar wasn’t going to tell us anything. I know what I did was a bit of a risk but not as great a chance we were taking relying on him to give us the intel we needed. You’ve seen his supporters. You’ve seen what he’s capable of. An innocent man was literally tortured and murdered not twenty feet from where I was standing.” The horrific scene replayed before him. “All I could think about was how much I wanted to bring Dalmar in, right then and there. To just forget the mission and…take him down on the spot. I was sick of humoring him. Pretending to enjoy his company when I’ve seen all the suffering and pain he’s responsible for.”

“I know it’s difficult to keep up your cover when all around you see the terrible things these people are doing. But when you take this job it’s what you sign up for. We play these roles so we can catch the bad guys.”

“Exactly! We go undercover so we can bring people like Dalmar to justice. But what good is playing a “role” if we have no evidence to do that. I had to ensure we had all the evidence we needed to convict Dalmar.”

“What about our lives? Our security? You put  them deliberately at risk.” Tasha stretched out her arm, emphasizing her point.

“C’mon Tasha, no need to be overly dramatic about this. It’s not like our lives weren’t in any danger to begin with. Besides, what about the security of the free world? We can’t just sit around and wait for Dalmar to get the upper hand. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to stop these guys. Are you?”

Tasha’s voice rose. “So now you’re questioning my ability?  This isn’t even about me.”

“Who said I was questioning your ability? Frankly, I don’t get why you’re so upset. We got all the information we needed and nothing serious happened.”

“Right now I don’t care that nothing serious happened. You took an unnecessary risk!” 

Jason shook his head, his frustration growing by the second. It was obvious he and Tasha weren’t going to see eye to eye on this issue. “Look, doing good involves risk, that's how it works. I thought about it and decided that finding out the truth about Dalmar’s scheme was worth the increased danger of getting caught. I wasn’t just about to sit back and let my first field mission be a failure!” 

Donovan’s words came flooding back to her mind. In my experience I have found that oftentimes new agents are so anxious to prove their skills as analysts that they recklessly take action without thinking. And I...I worry that the same thing will happen with Jason.“Oh, I see. Everything Headman said about you was right. You wanted to prove yourself as a field agent and decided the best way to do that was by not following my plan.”

“Why can’t I try to prove myself? If I can do that, help others, and bring the bad guys to justice…what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. As long as you stay within certain guidelines.”

“Well, I'm sorry. I don’t go by the book.”

Neither of them said anything for a moment. The steam from the shower was almost stifling, fogging up the mirror beside them. Tasha finally broke the uneasy silence between them.“Make sure you pack your things. I’m booking us a flight back to D.C. for tomorrow morning.”

Tasha left Jason behind in the bathroom and made her way to her room. She sat in the chair by the window and buried her head in her hands, exhaustion overcoming her. She was emotionally, physically, and mentally drained. Leaves scattered across the ground outside as the wind picked up. Tree branches slammed against windows on the city street, the noise threatening to interrupt her thoughts. She had hoped that Jason would see her point of view. If not recognize how his actions could have jeopardized their mission, at least understand why she was upset. 

At least we’re going back to D.C. tomorrow. The worst thing would have been if our assignment wasn’t done since we obviously don’t see eye to eye. We probably can’t stand each other right now. Hmm, tomorrow's flight is bound to be awkward. Tasha ran her hand through her hair and sighed. What am I even going to tell Donovan or put in my report? Jason was doing so well…and then this. Headman was right he has all the makings of a great event analyst. It would be a shame if he threw it all away because of his…recklessness and impulsiveness.

She stood up from the chair and went to the closet. After grabbing some pajamas she made her way into the bathroom. The warm, hot water felt especially relaxing after a long day. It seemed in a way to make her forget her problems and worries. For better or for worse she and Jason knew how the other felt about this issue. All they could do now was try to get along as best they could.

….

The older man's eyes felt heavy and sleep called to him. He and his associates had been watching The Chardell for hours. He had to admit this was one of his most boring assignments but at least it paid well. He stifled back a yawn and reached for the car microphone. "White Falcon here. The targets have entered The Chardell.”

Red Sparrow’s reply came through the speaker. “Affirmative. Stay in your current position. In two hours bring them in. Understood.”

“Roger.”

[hazebxtch]

The Empath

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader

Summary: He always saw you wherever he went. You were always alone, even if many people knew of you. None of them knew you. Yet he still wanted you in his life, despite your reputation.

Warnings: Soft Bakugo, mention of death, a little angsty, happy ending :) I was bored so sorry if its not good. I tried to make this as gender neutral as possible 

Word Count: 3,270ish

He always saw you.

It was as if you were stalking him.

You were at the library when he went to study with his friends, you were always sitting by yourself reading some books. You were always in the teachers’ lounge talking to one of the teachers when he went to talk to Aizawa. You sometimes held a small smile on the normally emotionless face. You sat in the courtyard when it was lunch, eating your lunch. Always reading a book.

But something always nagged him when he saw you. Something never felt quite right when he spotted you in your normal spots reading those stupid books of yours.

You were always alone.

You never had anyone around you. You always were by your lonesome and he didn’t know why. You were very pretty and you looked like a nice person. So what was the deal?

“What’s their problem?” Bakugo asked one day when they went to the library to study for one of their tests. “Huh? Who are you talking about Bakugo?” Mina asked, her bright eyes trying to find the person her friend was talking about. Until her eyes landed on your silky (h/c) mane, strands of loose hair pushed behind your ear. “Whoa, they are so pretty!” 

“What are you two talking about?” the red-headed male inquired, walking up to them. The only reply he received was from Mina who pointed at you with the biggest smile on her face. “Aren’t they pretty?” the girl innocently asked. Kirishima followed her finger and immediately grew weary. 

“How about we get to that studying, yeah?” Bakugo looked at his friend, seeing his conflicted features before huffing and going to their studying. He really couldn’t help it. Bakugo always found his crimson eyes drift towards your quiet form. A certain male noticed this and sighed.

“Their name is (L/n), they are in General Studies,” Kirishima said suddenly, successfully grabbing the attention of his friends. “What?” Kaminari looked lost, was this in the test? 

“You wanted to know what their deal was right? They’re a first-year, like us. No one knows what their quirk is, they doubt if they even have one at all.” the red-head mumbled. Looking down at his paper, he just continued with his explanation. 

“No one talks to them because about two years ago, they went all bat shit crazy in the middle of class. Everyone started saying that they were straight psycho and no one wants to associate themselves with someone like that, y’know? Anyway, I think its best if we just leave them alone.” the rest of the study session was silent after that. That didn’t mean a certain person didn’t notice a teacher coming up to you and taking you out of the library.

After that, he hadn’t seen you for the next week. Maybe you dropped out. Or moved away somewhere far away. 

All those theories were blown out the window when the class saw you standing by their teacher when they walked inside Gym Gamma. The class immediately irrupted in whispers, talking about all the rumors they heard about you. Bakugo noticed the very small light in your eyes disappear as your head lowered just in the slightest degree. The bangs of your hair framed your face so perfectly, you wore the school gym clothes just like everyone else, but you just looked so much better than all those extras. Cementoss and Aizawa looked at each other with a knowing look in their eyes.

The moment Aizawa activated his quirk, the whole room fell silent. “For today’s exercise, we will see how well you can do under the pressure of an unknown enemy with an unknown quirk. I know we had reenacted this scenario many times but you must be prepared for a quirk that very few may have.” he began, his hand gesturing towards your submissive body on his left. “This student will be your opponent if you successfully detain them. You pass.” his bland voice finished his instructions, looking at his colleague for a moment before putting a calloused hand on your shoulder, leading you away from the crowd. 

“You will be separated into teams of two. Each team will have a different environment, your goal is to locate the enemy and detain them. If you run out of time, you fail. If their quirk overwhelms you, you fail. Now, you may pick your pairs.” with that Cementoss left the students to themselves so they can choose their partners. 

Naturally, Bakugo chose Kirishima. The pair were formulating a plan to successfully capture you and pass their class. He had a strange feeling that someone was watching him, so his eyes roamed the expanse of the gym. Soon catching those (E/c) that he always wanted to see. Your gaze wasn’t as suddenly the ground started to form various barriers. All varying in size and shape, the ground the students stood lifted into a railed platform. 

Team after team, they failed. They either ran out of time or they became overwhelmed. Never once did you surface from the obstacles, no one ever got close to you. Yet you always beat them.

Nine teams have gone and failed, then they were finished they were sent to another platform soother could share their experience with the others. The only two who didn’t go yet was Kirishima and Bakugo. It was nerve-racking, how did no-one get you yet? Deku and Half n Half almost got you but ran out of time. Making their way to the ground of the gym, it was like a sudden wave of realization hit them. They were not going to pass this exercise. No one else did.

 How could they?

One the mark of three, the timer started. The pair split up going different ways, hoping that they could at least cover more ground. Soon, he heard his friend scream in an emotion he couldn’t decipher. 

“Kirishima!” he yelled out, calling for his partner. Growing more and more irritated, blasting away obstacles, trying to get a bird’s eye view to not only find his friend but find you. 

He found his friend first much to his relief, not that he would ever admit it. “What happened to you, Shitty hair?” his voice was aggressive but he felt genuine concern, Kiri never cracks under pressure like this. Bakugo watched as his partner’s body shook under his calloused hand.

“Get away from me Bakugo!” Kirishima yelled, pushing his friend as far away from his as possible. This angered the blonde greatly what the hell happened to him? Why was he yelling? His anger only grew as he watched Kirishima harden his hand, running towards Bakugo without another word. 

With each blast and hit. Bakugo’s anger and frustration grew, it was overwhelming. The more time the two fought, the less time was left for them on the clock.

It was just another minute and a half before the round was over, but it was so much.

His anger.

It was growing on its own and it was eating you alive. 

How did someone hold this much anger? Why couldn’t you control it better? How did it even get this bad? It was so much. Too much.

Then a scream erupted through the arena.

The scream didn’t belong to neither one of the boys that were fighting. Bakugo snapped his head around to see you.

Your hands covered your ears, tears threatened to fall past your eyes as you fell to your knees. The links severing,

You were so caught up in the overwhelming emotions that you felt, you were too busy trying to calm yourself down. You didn’t realize the too boys that walked up to you until you felt your wrists fall under the rough grip of someone. Opening your eyes, you were meet with the hateful gaze of the explosive male before you. 

“P-please let me go,” you whimpered, “Not a chance, not till you tell me what the hell your quirk is.” the growl in his voice made you want to hide, he intimidated you beyond understanding. The more you squirmed the tighter his hold on your wrists became. The frustration in his eyes grew more and more, he almost yelled at you to answer his question before you were saved. 

Aizawa released you from Bakugo’s deathly grip, “Surprisingly, Bakugo and Kirishima pass today’s exercise.” the tired male announced. Usually, this announcement would’ve made the blonde happy but this time he couldn’t help but feel bad as he stared at your retreating frame. _______ “Do you guys know what (L/n)’s quirk is?” Asui questioned her classmates as they all lounged in the dorms common room. Everyone in the room shared a silence, no one bothered to ask again when their teacher shot it down the first time. “I asked Mr. Aizawa after classes were dismissed, all he told me was that they would be working with us often.” Midoriya broke the silence with his soft voice.

And that you did.

You were often stationed on the sidelines, just standing there and staring. Sometimes you would break down and fall to your knees if training got intense, especially with Bakugo. Other times, you had to take a break because you overused your quirk. But your exposure to the class was still the same, some of the nicer ones started to talk to you. Even if it was hesitant.

The ones you knew as Deku, Uraraka, and Todoroki were the main people that spoke to you. They never bugged you about your quirk. They never bugged you about your personal life, not unless you wanted to. You were then moved to their dorms but never took any hero classes aside from their training.

You opened up bit by bit, everyone in the class soon found out that you weren’t as crazy as everyone rumored you to be. One day, the entire class was hanging out in the dorms talking like they always did. Bragging about how far along they came with their quirks, you enjoyed how everyone held pride in their advancements. Then someone brought you into the conversation, 

“Hey, (L/n)! What is your quirk? You never told us,” Midoriya’s voice echoed through your ears.

Your quirk.

At first, you hesitated, but you knew them for a long time now. You were close to the class of future heroes, save for the hot-headed one. The strength of his emotions were scary, you saw how he acted with the others of the class and it scared you. You didn’t want him to yell at you like that. No matter how attracted you were to him.

You looked down at your crossed legs, it felt weird. You never had such close relations with people ever since the incident. It felt nice,

“You don’t ha-”

“I’m an empath,” you started slowly, “I can create emotional links with people as long as I have them in my sight. When the link is established I can influence that person’s emotions, calming them, angering them, making them sad. Whatever I please they feel it,”

You noticed how everyone in the room grew silent at the explanation, you felt it as a need to continue. Maybe they wanted to know more, or maybe they were too shocked to speak. 

“It has its downfall though, if I use it too much I start to get dizzy and need to take a break. That is the reason why I leave the training exercises for a short time. Another weakness is…” everyone looked on at the newly announced Empath. Especially the explosive blonde, he listened to you intently even if it seemed like he didn’t care. He grew rather fond of you, not that he would ever admit to anyone. Mostly because he saw how you tried to steer clear of the male as if you were scared to even look at him. And that pained him a little.

“Another weakness is if the person whom I linked with has very strong emotions, my quirk will have the opposite effect and its very painful. The stronger the emotion is the more painful it is, that is another reason why I take breaks.”

“So what happened two years ago? Why did you go all psycho?” your eyes shot up to look at the one who asked the question. The devil himself. “Bakugo! Y-you can’t go around and ask people things like that!” Uraraka scolded at him as tough as she could. “Yeah man, that was not very manly of you.” Kirishima aided her in your defense. “Oh shut it, you were all wondering the same damn thing I just had enough balls to ask.”

“But st-” 

“It’s fine,” you said almost quietly, “It is an explanation that is long overdue,” Bakugo looked over at you. Adoring how you picked your lips gently, avoiding the gaze of everyone in the room. He always found it cute when you fidgeted like that. He loved how you bounced your leg as you waited for results of a test to come in, how you paced when you were worried about something. How you picked your lips when you got a little emotional.

“Part of my quirk is being about to make permanent links with people I hold dear to my heart. It is a very intimate act to me, a sign of my ultimate trust and loyalty, y’know.” the little giggle you let out as you picked at your skin sent his heart racing. How could you be so cute?

“I did it with my parents when I figured it out, it was their anniversary and I wanted it to be something special for all of us. When I did it I could feel every emotion they did. I knew when Mom was sad, I knew when Dad was angry. If it got bad I would start crying, it was intense sometimes but we still loved each other. That day, I could tell something was wrong. I felt….distressed. I didn’t know why, both Mom and Dad felt terrified. And then I felt a terrible pain, it was unbearable. It felt as if I was being ripped in two, I tried to act like nothing was wrong but it got too much and I broke.”

“What happened to your parents?” Bakugo looked for the voice that asked the question, meeting the eyes of Yaoyorozu. Everyone looked at her before their attention shifted back to your small frame. All he wanted to do was go up to you and hold you to his chest but he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

“I was directed to the Principles office for disrupting the class, but I could barely keep myself together. I later found out that my parents died in a car crash. They made me take a psychiatric test to see how I was doing. I guess the results were bad because the next thing I knew I was being transferred to a Psychiatric Institute and that is how I spent my summer. When I was released, I was sent to my Grandmother. I had connected to her the same way I did to my parents for her birthday before their death. Sometime early in the first semester of high school, she died of a heart attack. I felt nothing, I didn’t even know until the hospital called the school.” 

“Does that mean you only get like that if the death is not natural?” it was that Icyhot bastard who spoke next and you just nodded your head in agreement. The silence was awkwardly comfortable, it was like they all understood you better.

 On a more intimate level.

There was only so much silence you could handle until you had enough. “Thank you for listening, but I need to go to sleep now.” with those words you had gotten up from your spot on the floor and made your way to the stairs that lead to your dorm. 

You were just about to open the door to your room when you heard his voice call out to you. You looked over to your side to see him walk over to you, you couldn’t help the slight blush that dusted your cheeks. How could you? You saw his strong frame from that tank top he wore.

“Yes, Bakugo?” you couldn’t keep your voice from shaking, how could you? “Why don’t you ever talk to me?” his rough voice questioned you when he was right beside you. You couldn’t meet his gaze, you were already flustered from just looking at him. You couldn’t form actual words in that moment, he was so close, you could practically feel his breath on your neck.

“Well? I’m waiting,” why? Why was he waiting? Did he care why you never spoke to him? Why you avoided him?

“Because your anger is overwhelming when you train, it scares me. And how you talk to the others always threatening to kill them, that’s kinda scary too.” since it was already a night of honesty on your half, you might as well have told him. But for the blonde, it hurt him. Did he scare you? To the point where you avoided his mere presence?

“I scare you?” his voice was shakey. It shocked you, to say the least. He sounded so vulnerable in that one moment, it left you so speechless you could only nod your head. 

“Is there a way for you not to be so scared of me?” that question surprised you. He didn’t even care, right?

“Why do you want to know something like that?” you grew the courage to look back at his built frame to see the softest face you could expect from someone like him. 

You had infected his heart and he hated it. He hated being the reason that you had to take breaks to recover from his intense feelings. He hated the fact that his emotions were the reason you avoided him. He always wanted to speak to you, he always wanted to hold you close while you watched movies or just for the hell of it. 

But he scared you.

His next moves were unexpected, and he gave you plenty of time to push him away and rush into your dorm. But you didn’t.

Not as he turned you around to face him.

Not as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

Not as his calloused hand met your cheek.

Not when he hesitated to connect his lips to yours.

Not even when he tilted your head to deepen the kiss.

You just melted into his hands like butter, you didn’t want this moment to end. You raised your hand to rest on his as you kissed him just as intently as he did. He pulled away too soon for your liking as you let out a small whimper. Leaving his hand to rest on your cheek just a little while longer before he left to go into his dorm. In that small little moment, you understood everything.

“Wait, Bakugo.” your voice called out to him shyly. He didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. You knew that he stopped in his doorway to hear you out,

“(Y/n)…” you paused for a moment before you continued, “My birth name is (Y/n).”

You heard him let out a small scoff, you could practically see the small smile on his face as he spoke. “Katsuki.”

 And as his door closed behind him, a blush irrupted on your cheeks as you touched your cheek. He was so gentle.

With a small smile, you turned to enter your room before you irrupted in a fit of little squeals and giggles. 

Unaware of the blonde who laid in his bed, smiling from your fit of happiness.  

And unaware from the eyes of said blondes friend, watching from the corner of the hall.

It was a nice night for all.

[zebrabaker]

Choosing Destiny; Part 3

Here we go!

Raven followed Vil down the halls of the dorms, trying to ignore the stares of those around her. There were dozens of boys lining the halls, peaking out of various rooms, staring at her and whispering to each other. There must have been at least a hundred of them, all staring at her like she was…interesting. This was so weird. Less than four hours ago, she had been the most hated person at school, now she was the interesting new girl.

“Raven, dear, are you okay? You look rather stunned.” Vil asked, setting a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m fine! Just a little overwhelmed.” She answered, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m only ever the center of attention when it’s bad.”

“That’s nonsense, mademoiselle. Here, you’ll be treated far better than that.” Rook smiled, ruffling her hair a little, making her giggle.

“Rook! Her hair was perfect!” Vil snapped, hands flying to fix Raven’s hair. Raven suddenly froze, grabbing a random lock of hair and pulling it in front of her face, before groaning.

“My magic wore off!” She huffed, letting the hair fall.

“What do you mean?” Epel asked.

“I usually use magic to keep a small glamour over my hair, adding in purple streaks. It makes me look more like my mom. Without it, I get confused for a Royal.”

“But…you are royalty.” Epel pointed out.

“Not Royalty, a Royal. Ever After was divided by civil war for a few years when I was young. The first faction was the Royals, typically Princesses and Prince Charmings, or those who got happy endings. They were led by Snow White and her husband, James Charming. Then, there were the Rebels, monsters, beasts, witches, and other villainous beings. They, well, they were led by my Mom. As is, I don’t look much like previous Evil Queens, I look more like a Royal, even a Princess Charming if you push. Hence the heels, and the glamour and makeup.” Vil hummed to confirm he was listening around a mouthful of bobby pins as he quickly braided her hair back.

“So, wait, your mom led a civil war?” Rook asked. “What was she fighting for?”

“Huh? I…I don’t know. After the Rebels lost, my Mom was locked away for good, and everyone was forbidden from even mentioning the war. We don’t even learn about it in school much. It’s seriously taboo to talk about it. My visits with Mom were all heavily monitored so that I wouldn’t accidentally let her out of the mirror dimension, so I never got to ask about it. She just said that she hoped I would follow in her footsteps.” Fiddling with the end of her braid once Vil was done, Raven frowned a bit. It had always bothered her, never knowing why her mother was serving a life sentence.

“Well, now is not the time for such heavy matters. We have an audience waiting on you, and Headmaster Crowley has called a meeting for all Dorm Leaders tomorrow morning, and has requested your attendance.”

“Okay. Um, before we begin, how many people are going to be asking me questions?” She asked, biting her lip.

“Oh, only about one hundred eighty!” Vil cheered, steering her by the shoulder into the main room from earlier. Raven gulped. This was so not what she had planned for today!

X0X0X

Raven had been seated in a plush plum-colored armchair in the center of the room, opposite the fireplace. Everyone was gathered around her, making her feel painfully claustrophobic.

“So, where are you from, Princess?” One voice asked from the back of the crowd.

“Well, my Dad rules the Good Kingdom, so I grew up in the palace. It’s technically split in half between Mom and Dad. I was raised mainly by servants, since Dad wasn’t too happy with his destiny, and Mom was locked away. I learned a lot of valuable skills though. I can cook, clean up after myself, I can balance a budget, and my Nanny taught me to play guitar and a few other instruments.”

“Could you play for us, Princess?” One of the boys near the front asked.

“An excellent idea!” Rook cheered.

“I…I guess? I should be able to summon my guitar if you’ll all give me a minute.” Raven stammered, cheeks and ears stained red with blush.

“Only if you don’t mind, mademoiselle,” Rook assured her, setting a hand on her shoulder.

“Not at all, I don’t get to play much, so this will be nice!” Raven patted his hand, before closing her eyes. What Raven did not see, however, was the vivid purple aura surrounding her as she murmured in the ancient tongue her mother had taught her. The purple aura around her began to condense into a tight mist, before taking the shape of a guitar. With a loud popping of displaced air, a plain purple guitar appeared in her lap. There was a floral pattern painted around the hole, which looked to be done in shades of silver and grey.

“It worked!” Raven cheered, running her hands down the strings. “What do you guys want to hear?” She asked, looking at the crowd. Sadly, she got no answer, as the entire crowd was captivated by the way her lavender eyes sparkled with happiness in the light.

“Why not play your favorite song, Princess?” One of the boys who helped her earlier asked.

“Okay!” Raven chirped and began to tune the instrument. “This is one my Mom used to sing to me each night, before she was sent away. Sorry if I’m not very good.”

“I’m sure you sound lovely, Raven,” Vil assured. Raven shrugged, before beginning to play.

“Where the Northwind…meets the sea~.” Raven’s voice was…enchanting, high and sweet and pure. “There’s a river, full of memory. Sleep my darling, safe and sound. For in this river, all is found. When all is lost, all is found~.” The whole dorm was silent, staring at the tiny angel whose voice seemed to come from heaven itself. As her song wound down, she seemed to come out of a trance. “Where the north wind meets the sea, there’s a mother, full of memory. Come, my darling, homeward bound. Where all is lost, then all is found. All is found, all is found…” Raven, who had kept her eyes closed as she sang, slowly opened her eyes.

“Raven, that was most wondrous!” Rook cheered, clapping wildly.

“Rook is quite right, dear. I simply must record you playing for my MagiCam sometime.”

“I will not lie to you; I have no idea what that is.” Raven giggled. “So, Vil said you guys had questions for me?” She set the guitar aside, folding her hands in her lap and smiling at the crowd.

“How did you get here?” A redhead asked.

“Ah, I was practicing my magic and got scared…something went wrong, and I wound up in the woods here. I was wandering for hours when I found the school, and Rook helped me to the nurse. After that, headmaster Crowley said…something about enrolling me? He had me sorted, and then called Epel here to escort me to the dorms. Honestly, it’s been an intense few hours!”

X0X0X

As Raven fielded questions, Epel kept a close eye on her. She was being nothing less than the epitome of polite, answering all the questions she was asked, but her shoulders were starting to slump.

“So, Princess, do you have a boyfriend?” One of the boys further back called. Raven suddenly went a deep red.

“Or a girlfriend?” One closer to the front added.

“No! The one guy I kinda like is…not interested in me. He would never be.” Raven smiled in a melancholy way.

“What? Dear, you’re royalty!” Vil gasped, clutching his throat like a lady of old England.

“I’m also the daughter of the Rebel leader, Vil, and he’s expected to be the next Prince Charming, as in the guy who marries Snow White. Not exactly an ideal relationship.” Raven sighed a bit. “Anyway, anyone else have questions?” Several hands shot into the air, making Raven giggle.

“Vil, hey!” Epel whispered, tugging on the taller boy’s sleeve a little. Vil raised an eyebrow at him, keeping his attention on their resident royal. “Raven looks pretty tired, and she’s had a long day. We need to make sure she gets her beauty sleep, right?” Vil tensed at the magic words.

“Alright, that’s plenty of questions for now! You can all get to know Raven later; she needs her sleep.” There was a collection of disappointed groans, but everyone slowly bid Raven goodnight, trickling out of the common room in clumps and batches.

“Thanks, Vil. I was starting to get pretty tired.”

“Of course, dear. You will, of course, be joining me for my evening skincare routine. I create my cosmetics and skincare products, so they’re top of the line. Epel, Rook, go make sure that Raven’s room is completely ready.” Both boys nodded and walked off, leaving Vil to lead Raven to his bathroom.

X0X0X

Vil eyed Raven as he gently scrubbed off his makeup. She was eyeing his array of skincare products with great interest, and yet there was a wary air about her. Going through the steps, he explained the ingredients of each product, along with their general purpose.

“-and this one contains apple extract; its purpose is to serve as a sunblock of kinds.”

“I…can’t use that one,” Raven muttered, burying her face behind a curtain of her hair.

“But Raven, you’re so pale! It cannot be safe for your skin to be out in the sun, exposed to the light.” Vil tutted, crossing his arms.

“It…it’s stupid, but I’m allergic to apples. Just the skin makes me go into anaphylactic shock, I can’t be anywhere near them. Like I said, stupid. Who’s ever heard of the evil queen not being able to handle apples?” Raven chuckled a bit, but Vil could see in her eyes that this deeply bothered her.

“Well, in the traditional tale, the one I was taught, the queen tried a myriad of ways to dispose of Snow White, like a cursed comb or an enchanted corset. Besides, you said you didn’t sign the book, so there’s no point in fretting.” Vil shrugged, handing Raven a face cloth. “If you can’t use that one,” Vil made a mental note to dispose of the bottle later. He was responsible for this sweet girl, accidentally sending her into shock would be terrible. “then try this. Cucumbers and pomegranate juice. Works wonders.” Yes, Vil was determined to protect this girl.

Once they had both cleaned their faces and applied a variety of things that Raven was very confused by (Vil had looked like a ghost when she said she usually just used soap and water to wash her face) Vil had asked her to wait in the hall while he checked his room for something. He stepped back out a moment later, holding a bundle of shimmery cloth in both hands. “I want you to have this, dear. It’s my back-up robe. We typically eat breakfast as a dorm in our pajamas, but it isn’t appropriate for a young lady, especially a princess, to be seen in her pajamas. Speaking of, do you have appropriate sleep clothes?”

“I can just change this into something, don’t worry!” Vil paused, before sighing.

“If you insist. Good night, Raven dear.”

“Good night, Vil!” Raven chirped, making an about-face and walking to her room, closing the door and leaning back against it with a sigh. Summoning her guitar had taken a lot out of her. It was a complicated spell normally, but with the odd barrier between here and Ever After, it had nearly knocked the wind out of her. Not to mention the endless questions, she honestly didn’t understand! She wasn’t special, she was a villain! Even Dad had been wary of her most of her life! Summoning the dregs of her magic with a sigh, Raven switched her transfigured dress into a comfortable set of sleep pants and a tank top in a shade of teal that made her desperately miss Maddie. Throwing the robe Vil had given her (it was lovely, a rich purple with gold patterning and a large gold sash) over the back of a chair, she slumped over to the bed and collapsed onto it, groaning at how soft it was. This had certainly been one hell of a day.

X0X0X

The knock at the door came far too early. Groaning, Raven dragged a pillow over her head and rolled over, effectively tangling herself in the comforter.

“Mademoiselle Raven, breakfast is ready!” Rook (he was the only one with a habit of speaking French, oddly enough) called through the door. “Vil also needs to escort you to the dorm leader meeting today, so you won’t have much time for breakfast.”

“Just two minutes and I’ll be out!” She called back, sitting up with a silent huff.

“Alright! Vil had me bring you a basket of shower things, I’ll leave it out here for you.”

“Thanks a million, Rook.” Raven slowly swung her legs over the edge of the bed, shivering when the cool floor came in contact with her feet. Thinking fast, she transfigured a random dust bunny she spotted from the corner of her eye into a pair of slippers that matched her pajamas. Grabbing the robe from the chair at the last second, Raven swung it over her shoulders, tying the sash as she made her way to the door. Upon opening the door, the first thing to catch her attention was the basket of bottles set on the floor. There were three bottles and a few washcloths, along with two large fluffy looking towels, a toothbrush in a sealed bag, and a container of toothpaste. On closer inspection, the bottles, which contained a pearlescent powder blue substance, were shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Heaving a sigh of relief, Raven set the basket on the vanity and stepped into the hall, absent-mindedly wrangling her voluminous hair into a set of pigtails. Looking around the halls, she cautiously followed the source of the noises she could hear, voices and the clinking of dishware. After a few minutes of wandering, she found a large dining room filled with several circular tables, each filled with boys in pajamas. Along the furthest wall was a long table, loaded with foods of all kinds. Raven had barely set foot into the room when she heard Vil call for her.

“There you are, dear! Come sit down, we need to eat.” He was seated at a larger table in the middle of the room, with Epel on one side and an empty chair on the other. Raven slowly made her way over, conscious of all the eyes on her.

“Good morning, Raven.”

“Good morning, Epel!” Raven responded with a smile. Without Epel, she probably wouldn’t have gotten to go to bed till much later last night.

“I already got you a plate, so dig in,” Vil commanded. Raven complied, beaming at the selection in front of her. There was a strip of bacon, an omelet, and a small bowl of what was likely yogurt, topped with nuts. Honestly, it looked like a breakfast she would have at home, with Cook. Picking up her fork, Raven took a moment to observe those around her. Vil’s manners were impeccable, while Rook’s were decent, and Epel’s made her want to cringe a little. Despite being the next Evil Queen, she was still a princess, and had been given almost four years of etiquette lessons as a kid. From what she could see of other tables, it was a mixed bag.

“I can’t lie, I’m pretty happy to see a healthy breakfast. At Ever After High, it’s all sweet foods and pastries every morning. Most of us Rebel kids can’t stomach it, but the Royals love it, so we don’t ever get anything good.” Raven commented, cutting up her omelet into small pieces.

“Really? How odd, here every dorm takes a weekly poll on what to have for breakfast each week. Headmaster Crowley would never exclude an entire group of students like that.” Epel scoffed, wrinkling his nose.

“Indeed.” Vil sniffed. “I can’t imagine that’s very good for their skin, either. Ah well, you’re here now, Raven, and that’s all that matters.” Raven smiled a little. Yeah, this wasn’t so bad, not at all.

X0X0X

As soon as Raven finished eating, Vil shooed her off to get ready for the day, making Raven giggle. He may act vain, but the boy was rather maternal. Once she was back in her room, Raven quickly hopped in the shower, pleased to find that the shampoo and conditioner Vil gave her were not heavily scented, but instead smelled faintly of jasmine. After she had rinsed the last of the conditioner, Raven hopped out and spelled one of the towels to dry her hair as she brushed her teeth. For some reason, her magic was working far better here than it ever had back home. Not once had something gone wrong. It was odd, being able to rely on her magic. Shrugging it off as a problem for later, Raven spelled her clothes clean and transfigured them into the same clothes as yesterday, this time pulling her hair into a four-strand braid. Sliding her feet into her heels, Raven made her way back into her room proper right as someone knocked on the door.

“Just a second!” She called, trying not to glance at the mirror on the vanity out of the corner of her eye. She’d need to get something to cover that with. Raven opened the door to see Vil, wearing an odd layered outfit, waiting on her.

“You look lovely dear. Now, we barely have time to do your makeup, but I’m nothing if not capable under pressure.” Vil grabbed her shoulders and spun her about, guiding her over to the vanity. Raven sucked in a deep breath at seeing herself in the reflection. She neverlooked in mirrors if she could help it, especially for long periods. With the glamour out of her hair and no lipstick, she almost looked like her half-sister….

“Now, I’m thinking a natural look, we’ll leave your lips bare, but a touch of highlighter and blush will look lovely. Hold still, this won’t take five minutes.” Vil’s words snapped her from her thoughts, making her shake her head a little. With expert precision, Vil swiped a brush across the top of her cheekbones and along the bridge of her nose. After a few more swipes, he clicked the compact in his hand closed, smiling.

“I am too good. Alright, take a look and then let’s be off, it would be rude to be late.” Vil was so busy packing his things back into his purse that he didn’t notice the slight panic in Raven’s eyes when she realized that she needed to look in the mirror. Taking as quick a glance as possible, Raven stood and pushed the chair in.

“Ready when you are!” She chirped, folding her hands in front of herself.

“Alright then, let’s be off! I can say with certainty that the other dorm leaders will adore you.” Vil said, smoothing a few flyaway hairs out of Raven’s face.

I hope so… Raven thought. 

@keiwahikari

@sayuricorner

[alfredo-kesmann]

WIP ask game!

My Italian ass is asking for "Ci sarà", but my angst heart beats for "Solitaire". I don't want to be greedy, so let's pick Solitaire.

Unless...?

Thank you so so much for asking, and I'm sorry for reponding so late! The reason for this is mostly that I actually finally got inspiration for Solitaire again after you send me this ask, so thank you for that! I'll give you little snippets of both WIP's, because greed sometimes is good (namely when it motivates me to finally work on WIP’s). 

So, first things first: Solitaire.

You're absolutely, completely right about the angst. The entire plot is Martín angst, I'm not even kidding. The general outline is that it forms a series with Fear and loathing/ Now I see, I see it for the first time, which is about Andrés in the Mint realising he should never have left Martín but accepting that it is too late now anyways. Solitaire is to be Martín's experiences of the Mint heist and the time afterwards. The title is taken from MARINA's song by the same name, and although it only is vaguely is inspired by the song, I want to match the vibe I get from it: a supposedly beautiful life that actually is just... loneliness and tears. A ‘we could have had it all’ and ending up with empty hands. 

I only have a few paragraphs jotted down yet, though, because I find it one of my hardest WIP's to work on: I want to show a canon compliant Martín, and I want to accurately portray the way he feels like a victim, even if he isn't truly one. I want to correctly talk about his mental ilnesses (I am guessing at least depression and narcissistic personality disorder, though I’m not planning to label them in the story), but I am no psychologist. I started this WIP around March or April and I suppose I am now more sure about what I'm doing, and now the words are (finally) slowly flowing. 

That being said, enjoy these little snippets:

“Andrés was like a poisonous drug, flowing through my veins and cutting off any necessary blood supply, but it felt so exquisite, like a breeze in the warmest summer day."

[....]

Martín sat in the middle of broken glass, a reflection of him in more than one way, and cried until breathing was getting hard and his eyes were red and dry. 

[...]

The two of them had become so intertwined that sometimes it was difficult to see which one of them was dead and which one of them was still living.

[...]

The television only showed static now, ever since he had thrown an empty bottle of vodka towards it. ‘Don’t shoot the messenger’, went the saying, but Martín hadn't been able to think straight after he had heard the news. In a way the image was fitting, because Martín’s life had become static too, ever since that horrible day.

[...]

But now he understood Andrés’ romanticizing of the death, for his best friend had lived his whole life knowing he would take his own one day. And he had wanted to make his final show grand, he had wanted a last standing ovation, one that deafened his eyes, before the red curtains closed forever. Martín also knew that Andrés would dissaprove of the method he was contemplating, in his sad little flat, a simple shot instead of blazing guns. So he put the velvet box back and instead took a bottle of vodka in hands, waiting until a better idea came to mind, waited until he had a plan, ignoring how those were harder to come by now Andrés wasn’t with him anymore.

Now, Ci sarà is practically the polar opposite of Solitaire: it's pure and unadulterated fluff. The only thing they have in common is that they both are named after a song and both get too little of my attention ehehe oops. I have no idea where I want to go with this story, whether to make it a one shot, or something more. I think the latter, though.

Basically, I had been studying (very) late and it was around 3AM. I was listening to a music playlist when Ci sarà came on. It is one of my favourite Italian songs (though honestly I love anything by Romina Power and Al Bano) and yes I know, I know, my music taste is just as basic as Andrés de Fonollosa's. I, myself realised that exact fact then as well. So, I thought: what if this would be the song for Berlermo's first dance at their wedding? The song just makes me so happy in an undescribable way, and since feelings are always much stronger deep in the night, I felt so incredibly happy and in love listening to it, in the middle of the night, at a volume that was a little too loud. This resulted in me putting the song on repeat, and trying to describe that feeling I had felt. So in a way, ci sarà is a writing exercise. 

The plot thus far basically is Andrés being overwhelmed by happiness during his wedding dance with Martín (and everyone is alive and happy). Because as much as I love making him suffer in stories, I also like writing his strangely soft side around Martín. I might write the entire wedding and also the proposal, because I have ideas, especially for the latter (Andrés had been planning to propose for months, then Martín is the first to ask him. Andrés is divided between tremendous frustration and great happiness, but obviously says ‘yes’; that’s also why I imagine that they both take the surname ‘Berotte-de Fonollosa’). 

So, here some snippets (I couldn’t choose so it’s slightly more than ‘some’):

They were spinning, whilst the music was swelling, and it was dizzying Andrés. One step back, to the side, close, one forward, to the side, close, an endless repetition. Martín spinning him around and pulling him in his arms again. Their friends all singing Ci sarà, all wearing white clothing and pearly smiles, the adoration clearly visible in Martín’s eyes, how beautiful Martín was looking in the suit. No, not just Martín, his Martín Berotte-de Fonollosa. They were turning again, his husband’s -he couldn’t believe it, his husband’s- warm hand burning on his waist, then on his right cheek, only shortly and suddenly the refrain started and Martín was singing too, albeit softly, yet it’s still too loud in Andrés’ ears. Everything is so loud, so bright, so vibrant. It’s all so pure, and he’s drowning in love, with the sun shining brightly as if it was God’s blessing of their union, the perfectly green grass as nature’s wedding gift to the new spouses. 

[...]

Andrés manages to spot his hermanito in the choir made of bank robbers, he’s holding hands with his wife and Paula and he looks so happy and carefree. He has finally accepted Andrés’ relationship, he had even been the one to walk Andrés to the altar, and the things Sergio had told him then were still going through his head.

The butterflies in Andrés’ stomach were taking him over more and more, he is growing dizzy and dizzier. All this love, he has no place for it, it is seeping through his veins, bursting out of his fingertips like rays of sunshine, out of the fingertips that are currently in Martín’s hand and on his shoulder. Andrés knows that he hasn’t had much to drink yet, but he has never been more intoxicated, intoxicated on this eternity captured in less than four minutes. Martín is turning them again, leading him gently, keeping him steady. Martín is there for him like he has always been. And now it’s finally right, it’s finally the way it should be, the other ring on Martín’s hand. Finally, he has married his last spouse, it’s finally the one who he was meant to be with. Finally, finally, finally.

[...]

Andrés feels like he is flying, like his feet aren’t touching the floor anymore. The two of them form a leaf in a strong summer wind by the blue sea, slowly going upwards in an intricate dance, but they’re also so much more. They are the wind and the sea, the entire universe is drowning in their love and they are drowning in the universe. It’s all so much, so so much, yet so small. There is no Berlín, no Palermo, no monastery, no friends forming a choir, no wedding cake, it’s just Andrés and Martín Berotte-de Fonollosa, and their love for eachother. 

[...]

Andrés is oh so dizzy with happiness and love, and then he feels it, wet on his cheeks, rolling over his lips, Martín’s hand gently sweeping the oceans welling in his husband’s eyes away. He wants to open his eyes, but he can’t and he doesn’t need it anyway, he already knows what Martín’s soft smile would look like. When Martín kisses him again, softly cupping his cheek, Andrés realises his husband had been crying as well, their tears mixing together like everything between the two of them always has, the way they’ve always been. Like so many of their clothes, their ideas, their furniture, their past and future, their personalities, their love. They have always been intertwined, it just took Andrés a while to see. 

[...]

“I can’t believe you cried,” Martín said as he giggled, truly giggled, and Andrés thought it was somewhat comparable bubbles coming to the surface in a fishing pond, and then decided it was a stupid thought because nothing can compare to his husband. Andrés can’t help smiling. “You were crying too, mi marido,” he says softly, the quip in there lost, replaced by pure adoration. He takes Martín’s face into his hands. “Today was my last wedding, I know it for sure. No one else has ever made me feel like this.” And normally, Martín would have joked that he must had said that to all of his wives too, but he didn’t. Instead, his hands mirrored Andrés’, softly stroking Andrés’ cheekbones, which were still wet with tears. Their lips met without any of their usual aggression and hunger, and maybe this kiss was even more important than the one after the exchanging of vows, for Andrés just had made a promise that was much more meaningful. 

Thank you again for asking, I hope you liked these snippets! I might or might not have just started another WIP based on the season 5 trailer, so I have no clue when these two will finally be published. 

[sadaboutniall]

something about you;

introduction | masterlist | tag | wattpad

Nineteen. April, 2016. 

He gets back to London and throws himself straight into it—writing, playing, fixing everything. It’s a little easier than he expected it to be, finding a life for himself here, fitting himself back into society. It turns out, Niall learns, that dropping off the face of the Earth for a few months doesn’t actually erase your existence from the world, and your friends still want to see you when you get back.

He spends every day in the studio, head shoved into a notebook, fingers constantly picking at a guitar. When he’s not writing he’s on conference calls and email chains with various record labels, back and forth negotiations and mock-up contracts, lawyers and assistants and more business than he’s ever done in his life. For the first time in as long as he can remember Niall feels like he knows exactly what he wants, and how to ask for it. Soon enough, he thinks, he’ll have something to show for it, too. 

When he’s not writing or juggling record execs vying for his attention, Niall’s reconnecting—or at least giving it a shot. He starts with Mully, knows he’ll bend easiest. A meet-up for a pint to talk about his trip blossoms into weekly nights out, which blossoms into Emilia joining them once in a while. Mully’s been spending time with Niall’s mates in London while Niall’s been away and they welcome him back without much fuss: Eoghan McDermott, Laura Whitmore, the lot. It’s all easier than Niall expected, even if there’s one painfully gaping hole right in the middle of it. 

On a Friday night near the end of April Mully calls him, fifteen minutes before they’re meant to meet down the pub for a few pints. Half dressed, Niall sandwiches his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he works on fixing his hair in the mirror. 

‘Alright, Mullz?’

‘Change of plans,’ says Mully. ‘Mia just called me. The whole LIC is going to The Hereford Arms tonight, you wanna join?’

‘Sure,’ Niall shrugs, though he’s never heard of the place. ‘Laura, Eoghan, the whole lot?’

‘Yeah,’ Mully slows down a little bit and Niall can imagine him on the other end of the phone in the flat he shares with Emilia, the face he pulls when he’s starting to get nervous. ‘The, uh, the whole LIC, Nialler.’

 It computes in Niall’s brain like an electric shock, like a jolt of some indeterminable emotion through his nervendings. He can’t tell if he’s excited or terrified when he says, choosing his words carefully, ‘Got it. And, erm, does the whole LIC include anyone… Scottish?’

‘Huh?’ Mully sounds genuinely confused and Niall almost laughs. He’d tried so hard to be delicate.

‘Jack,’ he says, deciding to say fuck all to pretense. Mully is his best mate, he should be able to ask him out right. ‘Will Isla be bringing Jack?’

‘Oh, Jesus, no. They broke up, mate.’

‘They what?’ Now it’s excitement, for sure, vibrating in his fingertips. He can’t even bring himself to care about how cruel it is to be happy that someone you love is going through a breakup. ‘When?’

‘Ages ago,’ Mully sounds casual, like this is something Niall should’ve known. But Niall hadn’t asked—half because he was afraid of the answer and half, he thinks, because he didn’t want it to get back to Isla that he was asking about her. The thought of it makes him feel a bit queasy. ‘But, uh, Bressie will be there.’

‘Okay?’ Niall’s clearly missing so much information that it makes him feel like he’s on another planet. ‘It’ll be sick to see him. It’s mad that we’re both in London and I haven’t.’

‘Right, okay,’ Mully sounds resigned. ‘It’s in South Kensington. See you there in half an hour?’

--

The pub is pretty packed, doors and windows propped open to welcome in the spring warmth, a gaggle of people spilling out onto the sidewalk with pints and cigarettes and loud, boisterous laughs. Paddy cap pulled down snug over his forehead, Niall’s sure no one will recognize him here, so he lets himself in without too much hesitation, eyes scanning the crowded room for his friends. 

He finds them thanks to Bressie’s height: six of his favorite people standing in a snug circle near the back of the bar. For a moment, Niall watches them, his heart humming at the sight. These are his people, he thinks, his family. And in the middle of it all, Isla. 

From here he can almost pretend. He can imagine what it would be like to walk over to them in another, less complicated life, and squeeze right in. He’d talk about his day at work, whine about delays on the tube, slide his free hand around Isla’s waist and press a kiss to her lips before getting himself a beer. He’d spend the night not worrying—not looking over his shoulder for cameras, not double checking that every stranger who talks to him doesn’t have their phone set to record. Maybe he’d even snog Isla against the wall outside for a little bit, until someone tells him off for being annoying, and then he’d take her home and fuck her against the inside of their front door, in their cozy little flat, in their easy little lives. For just a second, from just this far, Niall can pretend. 

Someone walks past Niall, accidentally jostling his shoulder a little bit, and his daydream is over. Instead, he swallows his heart in his throat and makes his way over to his friends cautiously, a gentle smile, a desperation in his chest. 

-- 

It’s fine. It really ends up being perfectly fine. 

He’s seen everyone other than Isla and Bressie recently enough for it not to be weird, and he should’ve remembered, really, that with Isla it can never be weird. She hugs him like no time has passed, pulls away from it like he couldn’t feel the quickening beat of her heart against his own chest. 

He doesn’t get any alone time with her until around 11:30, when Bressie, Laura, and Eoghan go to get another drink, and Mully and Emilia disappear without a trace. It’s just him and Isla then, sitting across from each other in the booth their group had commandeered hours ago. He feels his stomach clench when he looks at her for too long—at how much she’s grown, at how much she still looks like the girl he fell in love when when he was a boy. He thinks of himself, fourteen years old and desperately in love, and feels the same. 

He’s literally been all the way around the world and back, and the person he wants the most is still right here. 

‘Hiya,’ she says, after a few moments of silence. She tilts her head a little, a lock of dark brown hair falling from where it was tucked behind her ear. She’s gotten more piercings there—Niall only remembers two, the last time he was kissing her. ‘I’m glad you’re home.’

‘Me too,’ it’s pointless to lie around Isla. ‘I missed you.’

‘Missed you too,’ she smiles, just for him. ‘How was your big adventure? Or are you sick of people asking that question?’

‘It was brilliant, and, yeah, I kind of am,’ Niall can’t help his stupid fucking smile around Isla, and the alcohol isn’t doing him any favors. Still, he carries on. ‘Thanks for asking. How’s uni?’

‘Almost done,’ she says, looking overwhelmed just at the thought of it. ‘I graduate in May.’

‘Fucking hell.’

‘I know.’

‘I’m not gonna ask you what your plan is next.’

‘Thank fuck,’ she giggles, pulls a long sip from her Guinness. ‘Knew I could trust you.’

He’s had enough beer to make him braver than usual, to not stop himself as he says, ‘I’m sorry to hear about you and Jamie.’

Pint still at her lips, Isla smiles, shutting her eyes for a second as if she’s trying to hold back a laugh. She swallows, slow, thick, and then parts her lips pointedly, eyes locked on Niall’s. ‘His name was Jack,’ she tells him. ‘And I really don’t think you are.’

Niall can feel himself heating up, a red flush making its way from his cheeks to his chest, exposed thanks to his partially unbuttoned shirt. Isla’s smiling gently, her lips pressed together, and Niall doesn’t have enough time to think up anything smooth, to let her know he really, really isn’t, before Mully and Emilia come back, swollen lips and stupid smiles and fresh drinks for all four of them, completely oblivious. 

-- 

He wakes up the next morning with a dull headache, a sour taste in his mouth, and a buoyant feeling in his chest. It’s too early to get excited but Niall’s never been good at controlling his emotions around Isla, never been good at separating fact from feeling when it comes to her, and he doesn’t really want to, either—it’s been so long since he’s felt like this about anything. He stretches out in bed and lets himself have just a few moments of it. 

It’s his phone vibrating next to him for the fourth time in ten minutes that snaps Niall out of it. 

Holding his phone up over his face, Niall squints at the screen, too bright in his dark room. It’s only 10am and he didn’t get home until nearly 2 and somehow he’s got over a dozen texts already: from Mully, from Kim at Modest!, from Deo. It’s a weird enough combination to make Niall swipe his phone open right away, worry creeping in as he does. 

All three of them have sent him the same link from the Sun. 

He clicks on Deo’s text first, least worried about leaving him on read if it’s an emergency. He taps through and gets in two full deep breaths before it loads: a series of pictures of them all at the pub last night, of him and Isla, taken through a window from the street. It’s just a few seconds, Niall knows, but the pictures make it look like it lasted all night: their lingering hug goodbye, Niall’s arm resting around her waist for a moment too long, his lips pressed to her cheek, just a little bit too close to her mouth to be friendly. It had been enough, last night, for him to spend the entire cab ride home in a fever dream of what could come next—but it wasn’t anything serious. 

But pictures can be spun, Niall knows that. Especially when there’s a headline involved. 

He reads it, stomach tight: NIALL HORAN HAS STEAMY LONDON REUNION WITH EX-FLAME AMIDST HER RUMORED FLING WITH FELLOW MULLINGAR MUSICIAN NIALL BRESLIN (PHOTOS). 

Two deep breaths. 

Niall feels the alcohol coming back up. 

####

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