#lemme comfort him he’s been thru too much!!

[floral-force]

OHHH JESS MY LOVE !!! this was EXCELLENT !!! yummy, descriptive, soft, sexy…checking every single box!!

A flash of a grin, where he leans over you. Broad chest and the curve of a stomach - forcing himself deeper, until it feels like he’s in your throat.

for some reason i love this description. i don’t know why but it just really hit me.

There’s a twitch of his jaw at that, the silence lingering. The ache reminds him of the time that has passed. Throwing him into past regrets.

vulnerable and tender boba has me 🥺 lemme give him a hug right now!!

i loved this!! thank you for writing and blessing us with your craft ♥️

— maybe I just wanna be yours

boba fett x f!eader

Rated E - 1.8k

Tags: fluff and smut, feelings, flirting, dirty talk, spitting, rough PiV, unprotected sex, comeplay, emotional hurt/comfort, references to chronic pain and age, nightmares

Summary - Spending 4 different kinds of evenings in the company of one Boba Fett.

A/N: after I wrote an Obi-Wan fic last year to celebrate May the 4th, @wingofshadow had very kindly asked if I’d consider writing more! So a bit late - but was feeling really inspired to write one for Boba this year 💕

i.

You lost all sense of time hours ago. Swaying with the smooth, low notes of the band in the corner - wrapped up in the buzz of conversation, the dimmed and flickering lights.

Chin propped up on a palm, eyelashes lowered as you watch. Something easy to do from where you lean against the bartop, trading the stool for a chance to stretch your legs.

Making an idle pass around the room, though your gaze always returns to the middle.

To him.

The easy way he lounges against the stone. A thick arm draped across the curving back, the glint of a golden light above reflecting against the dark shadow of his visor.

It still thrills you.

The feeling in your chest that you wish you had a name for - swooping low, like the music. Rising and swelling until it feels like it's about to burst.

But feelings are dangerous, in a place like this.

With a man like Boba Fett.

Your eyes find him again, unable to help seeking him out.

This time, his helmet tilts in your direction. You can feel a heat rising up your neck, to your cheeks, thinking about him thinking about you.

Joining him, on that throne.

He's confessed he has. When lips loosen late at night. That moment with he's buried in you and the filth pours, desperate for release.

There's a fraction of a second as he holds your gaze. A little tip of his helmet, towards a corner of the room you know well.

A secret message, just for you.

Only for you.

It has you rising - weaving carefully through the crowd. Watching how he moves towards you at the same time - how he's given a large berth. Respect following each heavy footstep, as he is brought your way.

A gloved hand catches your elbow, steering you down a narrow hallway. Out of sight from prying eyes - the hiss as the helmet is removed, tucked easily under an arm.

You move ahead of him, turning in time to just catch the slow drag of his eyes. Not looking away when caught, but smiling instead. The smallest curve of pretty lips, a crinkling of dark eyes.

His voice, as low and smooth as the jazz notes that follow you in.

"There's something I have to look into tonight."

You know better than to ask now. If it's important - he'll fill you in later.

Instead, your head cocks, appreciating that he's telling you. Your own smile lightning up your face, reaching out to touch his forearm.

"Will you come find me, when you're done?"

The look darkens, like there's nothing he'd like more than to do that now. Stepping into your space, a curled fingers tipping up your chin.

Your eyes flutter shut as your lips part, waiting.

The words breathed out, as his own mouth hovers. A teasing promise for later, knowing that the anticipation will only build in his absence.

“Always."

ii.

The groan you make sounds broken, as it’s forced from your lungs. Your breathing short and sharp with the way he has your thighs pushed back towards your shoulders, each harsh thrust sending sparks skittering down your spine.

Fueled by the way his thumb presses circles into spit-slick skin - teasing right against the spot that has you clenching down hard around him.

You can still picture the way he leaned over you. Soaked from his mouth, from the release he had coaxed from you once already - but that didn’t stop the saliva from pooling on his tongue.

Parting his lips to let it drip onto your cunt, before he was pulling back - hands catching on the juncture of your knees.

Opening you up for him.

Putting you on display, thighs spread wide so he could watch the way his cock slid through the mess. The tip catching on where he fucked you open with his fingers, but you had still gasped when he had worked his way inside.

Filling you in a way that only he can.

His fingers tighten their grip against your thigh. Eyes bright as he watches - taking in how you’re splayed out beneath him, your fingers twisted in the sheets.

Words spilling freely - pent up from the days you’ve been apart.

“Woke up so fucking hard, thinking about you.”

His lips part with a groan, your hips bucking into his touch.

“Was gonna take care of it. But I didn’t want to waste a drop, spilling myself outside of your cunt.”

Teeth grit, a rough noise in his chest when you sigh out his name. That feeling rising again - getting ready to crash over you. Pull you under, muting everything but him and that sweet spot where you’re connected.

“Is that where you want it, princess?”

Your nod feels like it takes ages, mind already hazy and swimming. Tongue swiping over your lips as you try to find the words to answer.

He’s impatient. Pressing, wanting to hear the words himself, “Tell me.”

“Yes,” You manage, “Gods, I want you to come in me.”

A flash of a grin, where he leans over you. Broad chest and the curve of a stomach - forcing himself deeper, until it feels like he’s in your throat.

“That’s my girl.” Boba coos, “Gonna make you come again. Make you clench around my cock while you’re stuffed full of my cum.”

He can feel the way you tighten at his words. The panting of your breath, so close to what you need.

The little warble of his name is enough to tip him over.

“Fuck.” He growls, hips slamming against yours. Eyes dark and fixed on yours, as the thrust goes sloppy - pressing deep, sheathing himself one last time.

“Fuck-”

Fingers still pressing, still pressing - as he gives you what you want.

He always does.

iii.

There's the mechanical whir as you enter the bedroom. It tells a story, even before you can see the heavy lines in his face and brow - allowing the small dressing droids to remove the painted-gold knee armor.

A strung-tight look to his shoulders, a weariness layering underneath the irritation. You hover - waiting as the nimble fingers take him apart, storing each piece carefully. Until they leave him, before you cross the room.

The way your hands move is familiar, as you lower yourself in front of him. On another night perhaps his thighs would spread, a canting of his hips into your waiting, eager mouth.

But tonight, your thumbs dig into sore flesh. A groan as you press into the muscles near his knee, fingers curving to the soft spot behind the joint.

You know the pain comes. Scars and aches from before, things that still linger from that unspoken time in the pits. Always hiding it so well, the helmet masking each and every expression. The armor covering the movements that come slowly at times.

Never using the droids unless he needs to. Too proud, insisting on strapping the pieces on himself.

He lets out a sigh. Long-held, some of the tension going out with it. You can't do much to help but you can do this - a listening ear as you work through some of the knots. 

"Time has worn away at me, cyare.” 

His tone is self-deprecating, eyes not meeting yours as they lift. As your fingers stop, coming to rest against his thigh. Fingers lacing together as your chin rests on top, fixing him with your own long look.

When they eventually drift back your way, your smile is small. A kiss pressed to the inside of his knee, over the dark jumpsuit.

"It wears away at all of us." You tell him, gentle and coaxing, “But from where I sit, I see plenty that remains.”

There’s a twitch of his jaw at that, the silence lingering. The ache reminds him of the time that has passed. Throwing him into past regrets.

Unable to help wondering what will remain, as more time passes. Forgetting that he's survived and endured - something that was very much worth acknowledging.

Your voice softens, a small frown forming, “Is it really such a bad thing, to grow old?”

Something lingers in his eyes then, as he takes you in.

"No." He concedes, "I suppose it isn’t."

A small smile, as you push yourself to move behind him. Hand running over broad shoulders - still strong,“I can’t turn back time, but I can try to help with the rest.”

Your own small sigh comes then, with your quiet admission, “I wish there was more I could do more for you.”

His head hangs between those shoulders as your fingers press into his neck. As he tells you, his voice low but sure. 

“You do more than enough already.”

iv.

“You do more than enough already.”

The ground seems to crumble with each of your steps. Blurry figures flashing by as you race forward, fingers outstretched.

Everything just out of reach.

A voice that yells, but the sound is broken - whisked away as soon as it leaves your lips.

Dread rising, rising, rising-

You wake with a gasp, eyes flying open. Chest heaving like you'd been yanked underwater, something rousing you from your nightmare.

A warm hand cups your shoulder. Squeezing, before brushing down your arm, smoothing over your skin. Pulling you out, when he woke - hearing the sleepy sounds of your whimper.

"-just a dream, cyare. Nothing more." He soothes, voice rough with sleep.

Slowly, your hearing returns over the racing thud of your heart. As your head relaxes back onto the pillow, when you feel him press against you, a strong arm curling around.

He runs too hot sometimes, in the heat of the desert. But right now, with the cold flush of fear, it's welcome. Warming you, like the sun.

Here, you lean into that warmth. Wiggling until you can flip around. Half-lidded, sleepy eyes look back, as you're pulled closer.

You're safe here.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He rasps, as your head shakes.

"No." Your voice is small, "It was just - I don't even know."

Silence stretches, his finger tips tracing patterns over bare skin. The man who’s experienced unthinkable horrors waiting for you to continue, if you wanted to.

It feels silly now.

Just a dream.

Nothing to be scared of.

"I think I was reaching for you. But I couldn't make it. I tried to call out, but I couldn't make any noise."

The fear from the dream is tempered, already starting to fade at the edges. He makes a low sound at your words, a humming rumble in his throat.

"I know you were dreaming," His hand rises to cup your jaw, a thumb smoothing acroess your cheek, "Because that's not going to happen."

He won't let that happen.

You read into his words, spoken so late at night. When he's half-awake and stripped clean of his armor - when those walls come down.

All you can do is nod, that feeling coming back. Starting in your stomach and swelling to your chest, stealing your words in a different way now.

"Now, go back to sleep." He coaxes, as your head presses into his shoulder, "You don't have to worry."

And you believe him. Safe and warm within his arms - breathing him in as the his words wash over you, sleep already tugging at your limbs.

"I'm right here."

cyare/cyar’ika - sweetheart/beloved

[nijigasakilove]

The much anticipated reunion between master and student is finally here and it was as good as we’d hoped. “I’ve been down here a whole month” yea so lemme smell it lmao. That’s the best part 😭

Nah but in all seriousness really cute reunion between Roxy and Rudy and I love how awkward Roxy was at first. Throughout the episode she stays all flustered and conservative around Rudy because it’s obvious she’s into him. I think Rudy is the only one who hasn’t realised it because he still sees her as his teacher and goddess , someone who is way over mere mortal things like romance.

It’s cute that Roxy’s idea of a date is a labyrinth raid. Asking Rudy to solo tackle a dungeon took a lot of courage for her. Love how comfortable and at peace she looked just taking a nap on rudy’s back! Rudy being so much bigger than her now reminds me of how when you’re younger you think your parents are so big and strong, then as we grow up we see that they’re not as big as we remember and they need help. Often we still keep those idealised versions of our parents in our head like Rudy has for Roxy

Only thing that annoyed me though is Rudy not mentioning he got a wife and a kid on the way at all to Roxy. I know he’s too slow to realise she’s into him rn, but when she asked if Nanahoshi was his gf he should’ve been like “oh no, I’m married” wouldn’t be able to have harem antics tho if we did that ig..

Paul’s two swords/wives analogy went right over his head 😂 sylphie and Roxy would serve different roles. One helped him thru his lowest point and the other serves as constant inspiration/an ideal to strive toward..

Anyway before all of that, we need to save zenith, the whole point of this expedition. Hopefully they get there soon! The backpat scene was so funny, everyone’s hitting Rudy so hard on the back and Roxy is too scared and shy to do it lmao.

Oh yea and Paul being excited about being called stronger by Rudeus was so sweet.

[baekhvuns]

IKR like the kind of love that's so soft and vintage? Like not too old types you know. But still i think the old romance was far more comfortable and ethereal as to what we have today. And let me tell u letters ARE ALWAYS SO CUTE!!

It's alright bae Idc abt how long has it been as long as ur still keeping up with us 😭. Oh and

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CncHfCMBCFi/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

Also, i finally had a dream with san 🥹. Lemme tell u before sleeping i listened to his cover song and I ACTUALLY DREAMT ABT HIM idr much but we were in my school and like he came out of nowhere in his...tht one backless red and black tour outfit 😃and all the girls from my class started swooning over him.... nuh-uh i didn't take tht and started gatekeeping like nah dude he's mine wdym?? Hmph nvm...i don't know how it ended but it got me in my feels ✨

old romance is so whimsical, so full of love and poetry and handwritten letters, shyness and exchanging glances and having conversations thru the eye contacts 😭😭😭 ME WHEN !!!!!

i m still so sorry bc this is actually bad on my part bc i like to get it over with fbwmbfsk hopefully im able to, feels uncomfortable to write atm bc of the recent news so ive not done anything special on it </3

[X] IM GOING TO NEED U TO STOP.

choi san feeding all the delulu’s, AS HE SHOULD.

[earlyspringtranscendence]

corin pushing past his own comfort zone to allow patrick the comfort of touch during a deeply traumatic time for p like literally im so fragile right now i can’t even begin to explain all of what’s going thru my mind. but i will.

like i think the biggest reason this mental image is so important to me is that andrew rowe’s writing with patrick (and mara tbh) has always held so much nuance & tenderness, like here’s this golden retriever type of boy who holds so much love and positivity in his heart, here’s this little nerd who loves the world he lives in & loves his friends so much theyre family (again, same goes for mara who im p sure was the one who said she needed family time while they were discussing blackstone banditry but it could very well have been sera which is still a win for me bc all these characters are so fantastic*) & he would do ANYTHING for coring — remember him being the first person to stand up to magnus for corin ?? remember corin being hit & his first thoughts are thank fuck patrick saw this? cause i dont think he’d have felt that way if it were anyone else, not even mara or sera or even derek or keras (though derek & keras ymmv bc they are still adults in this situation so theyd be far more likely to be able to do anything, but still theres the shame of it which i think would be more pronounced w them than it is w patrick bc he’s just such an unbelievably kind hearted character)

he doesn’t have the same sway over corin’s emotional intelligence as sera does but he still offers guidance by just being so emotionally intelligent himself, and anyway these are all his perfect traits but then not only that he’s also vulnerable (which is still a perfect trait but you get what i mean) and its not the first time he gets to be vulnerable but for the tables to have turned so severely that now its corin who has to be the brave, kindhearted one.... when patrick gets to be fr scared and hurt and young it’s by far one of the best parts of the books that happens outside of the story, because theyre ALL like that, bc in silence of unworthy gods im pretty sure theyre still only 18 (and you can tell the difference btwn an 18yr old who grew up in an awful family, an 18 yr old who grew up practically without a full family/her current family, an 18 yr old who had the best family but other circumstances denied her certain privileges and an 18 yr old whose home life idk jackshit about but i feel like it was probably pretty good bc a) how could u not adore patrick and b) well he came out bright as sunshine so you know, but anyway theres nuances in their maturity and patrick is by far the youngest but theyre ALL young & scared & inexperienced & going through far too much... i mean like read wobm keras is 21 in that im p sure and like ok yes he does go through a whole thing in book 1 fighting gods or whatever (overachiever) but his actual training is a piece of cake in comparison to what these guys go through)

anyway idk where that was going so nvm but its not only corin, it’s keras who .. ok to be honest i havent read more than the first book in 6ss which i need to get to bc i feel like im missing some context lately but keras clearly is in a very bad very stressed out place right now & mara telling him he needs to fucking COOL IT &&&& all of this being done through the medium of touch, which is such a taboo topic in AA because its from corin’s perspective and corin is you know. traumatised to hell and back.

its fucking magnificent. andrew rowe is so fucking good, not just for his worldbuilding but for his characters and his KINDNESS towards them, UGH !

* i was gonna go in depth on that but this is long enough so lemme just say im also loving sheridan this book i mean i loved them before but now that theyre like a more established type of love interest (.. sorta ??) it just makes me giggle bc there is no one for coring to end up with without me adoring the shit out of it. jin? im so down. cecily? i feel like itd be a little sad & they need to build to it but i LOVE cecily so sure !!! sheridan? literally i’d scream itd be so funny and SO good, LUTE ??? i mean. no ones even hinting at that happening but yes 100% yes.

plus i feel like corin has a crush on keras in that ‘thisman is 26 and beautiful & knows so much’ kind of way. anyway. AH !!! 

[number1mingyustan]

Kiss Me Thru the Phone ☾ ♡

bf!minghao x fem!reader

Warnings: mutual masturbation (m.+f), fingering (f.), dirty talk, phone sex, voice kink ??

Summary: Your boyfriend misses you but he thousands of miles away.

Word Count: 1.3k

(a/n: shocking news !! i didn’t proofread)

Minghao couldn’t sleep. He’d been tossing and turning for the last 20 minutes. It’s been like this almost every night for the past week. There were two reasons.

One being that he was sleeping in his bed from his teenage years which was far too small. And the other being because you weren’t there. He missed your scent, your cuddles, your warmth.

He’s gone back to China to stay with his family for two weeks, but it had been less than a week and he missed you like crazy. He loved being with his family again, he truly missed them. But that was during the day. When nighttime fell, he needed your comfort.

The two of you talked as much as you could, but the drastic time zone differences made it hard alongside your work schedule.

He groaned when he saw the clock, reading 2:43 a.m. He grabbed his phone, deciding to text you.

minghao <3

hi

You were watching a movie in bed when you heard your phone vibrate on the nightstand next to you. You picked it up curiously, only to see that your boyfriend had texted you.

y/n 🤍

shouldn’t you be asleep

minghao <3

can’t

i miss you

y/n 🤍

i miss you too

minghao <3

i wanna bring you with me next time

y/n 🤍

i’d love that

but it depends on my work schedule

minghao <3

i know that

it’s just hard here without you

y/n 🤍

i get it

i’ve resorted to cuddling the pillows

and wearing your clothes a lot bc i can’t have you here

minghao <3

fr? like rn?

y/n 🤍

yeah

minghao <3

lemme see

y/n 🤍

Attachment: 1 Image

minghao <3

i’m calling you

Before you knew it, your phone screen changed, a dark screen with red and green buttons appearing. You hit accept, placing the phone against your ear.

“Hi sweetheart,” you heard on the other end of the line. Your heart fluttered at the sound of the name. His voice was quiet but raspy. You could tell he was still tired.

“Hi,” you replied.

“You look pretty in my shirt baby,” he complimented. “Wish I was there with you.”

“Mmm,” you hum. “Me too. It’s so boring around here.”

“What are you doing right now?” he asks.

“Watching a movie, but it’s not that go-”

You start to hear his breathing pick up, which causes you to stop mid sentence. His breathing grows heavier, and it’s just quiet enough for you to hear.

“Baby?” You ask.

“Hmm?” He responds.

“You okay? You sound a little-”

“Yeah,” he breathes out. “Just keep talking. Tell me what you did today.”

You hear slight shuffling in the background, but don’t pay much mind to it as you continue telling him about your day. You’re not saying anything too important, mostly just rambling about your previous events. However, you’re halfway into telling him about one of your coworkers when you hear his breathing grow heavy again. He’d been silent most of the time, so it suddenly caught your attention.

“Minghao?”

“Oh fuck,” he whines. “Can you say that again?”

You feel a rush of heat dart down to your core. It wasn’t until now that you realized what he was doing. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to help with your aching heat.

“Minghao,” you repeat. “What are you doing?”

You hear him sigh on the other side of the line. “What do you think I’m doing?”

He’s teasing you. You could be very oblivious, but now he knows that you know. He knows that you’re flustered right now and working your way up to feeling equally as horny as him.

He smirks when he doesn’t hear you respond. “I missed your voice. Feel like I haven’t spoken to you in ages.”

His voice is still hushed, probably because he doesn’t want to wake up the rest of his family.

“Yeah,” you whisper in agreement. Your fingers travel down your naval, stopping on your panties. You slowly rub yourself through the cloth, pressing down to feel your wetness deep through the material.

“Are you touching yourself baby?” he asks.

You bite down on your lip. “Yeah.”

“Fuck,” he replies. You hear more shuffling before he speaks again. “Can you rub your clit for me, please?”

His voice is whiny and quiet, only turning you on more. You slip your hand into your panties, allowing your fingers to rub small circles around your sensitive bud.

“Shit,” you whisper. You moan at the self inflicted pleasure, which your boyfriend absolutely loves to hear.

“Sweetheart you sound so sexy right now,” he moans. His voice is unsteady and you can hear movement through the phone. His pace doesn’t falter as he touches himself. He’s desperate to get off, hand stroking his length quickly.

You push two fingers into your aching core, moaning out his name.

“That’s it baby,” he cooes. “Fuck your fingers.”

You whisper out a few ‘yeahs’ with your hand thrown back as you pleasure yourself. You fingers are soaked in your arousal, slipping in and out of your hole with ease.

“Not big enough,” you whimper to yourself.

You hear him curse through the phone. “ ‘S okay baby, open your legs and think about me.”

You nod frantically even though he can’t see you while doing as he says. You slide your panties off, spreading your legs embarrassingly wide. With one hand holding the phone, you continue to fuck yourself with your fingers. Having shifted positions, it’s easier to push your fingers deeper into your core. You allow your hips to buck up, meeting the thrusts of your fingers.

Whimpers and moans spill out your mouth incessantly as the image of your boyfriend pounding into you clouds your mind. You feel your orgasm starting to approach, quickening as his hushed moans and groans continue to stimulate you.

He’s still quiet, but he’s just loud enough for you to hear. His hushed voice is so sexy, especially when combined with the raspiness due to how late it was.

“Ha,” you breathe out weakly. “Gonna cum. F-Fuck, gonna cum.”

“Me too,” he replies, holding back a moan.

You unfold seconds later, your orgasm coursing through your lower body. It’s so intense that your phone slips out of your hand and onto the bed. You’re too swept up in pleasure to notice as your body spasms and shakes.

On the other end of the line, Minghao continues stroking himself to the sound of your loud moans until his orgasm hits. A wave of pleasure washes over him as he cums. White ropes of hot cum shoot out the head of his cock, spilling into a tissue. He buried his face into a pillow to suppress his moans and he body squirms.

He hears you panting on the other side of the line as he too catches his breath with a satisfied smile. He cleans himself up, disposing of the tissue and dressing himself properly.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you pants. “Can’t believe you were touching yourself while listening to me talk about my day.”

He chuckles. “Sorry baby, I wasn’t listening to a word you were saying. My mind was elsewhere, your voice is so sexy.”

You let out a fake scoff. “Rude.”

He starts easing into his post-orgasm exhaustion, feeling the sleepiness start to take over. It’s silent for a moment before you speak.

“Tired?” You ask.

“Mhm,” he nods.

You roll onto your side, adjusting the phone in your hand. “Okay baby, goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he mumbles. “Thank you.”

You smile to yourself. “You’re welcome. I love you.”

He yawns. “I love you more.”

And even though you’re not there, he falls asleep with the sound of your soft voice ringing in his head. It’s all he really needs to help him sleep at night.

——————————————————————————

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[moonlight-tmd]

Observing from shadows

[Part 1]  Song: rises the moon - Liana Flores (music box cover) [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cZKr6FLHGbQ]  [1 hour version = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MkAsMSG69MI&feature=youtu.be] You weren't sure when you became "alive". When you started to think on your own. When you started to move on your own. When you started to have those... feelings. When you fell for them. For you, they were the light in the dark, little shine of hope that kept drawing you back to the surface. The one place you felt you belonged to. The Daycare. At first it's been grey, you were following others around the pizzaria, seemingly going after something in the tunnels, occasionally hearing little footsteps or sounds. All seemed normal, dark and grey tones on the walls, eeriee atmosphere of the place anyone barely visited. Until one day... You were wandering around the magazines. Old supplies, decor and robot parts scattered in the rooms next to dusty boxes and crates. After a while of pointless walking you heard a tune, little sounds making a melody that played on loop. You were curious, where were these sounds coming from? You decided to follow it, the music getting louder and clearer as you walked thru the tunnels and up the staircase. It led on the surface, a place you never really went to considering your appearance. You saw a faint light creep from under the closed doors to the supply room that you walked into. The music was calm, soothing. It was something you never heard before, you always heard music coming from attractions above but they always were fast, up-beat, making you wanna go run and jump around. This was different, this music was quiet and almost made to calm someone down, make them relax in a way. Slowly you crept to the door and peeped outside... It was the Daycare area. It was dark, the benches and tables were almost unseen, the jungle gyms peeking from above the glass barrier seemed ominous, the only sources of light were the nightlights scattered on the walls. The music was there too, loud yet quiet. It lured you out, quietly stepping to the big wooden doors to the playpen. You hesitated to open it, slowly you brought you metal hand to the surface and gently pushed in ajar. You peered you head inside the play area. The area looked like most of the attractions in the facility, only this one was designed for younger children, one thing did stand out though... There were children there. Sleeping on the cots with their plushies, so peaceful and calm. Just like the music... You looked around and at last found the thing that was playing it. Or rather someone who was playing it. There near one of the kids was an animatronic, not any animatronic but one of the two daycare attendants who took care of the place and the kids. Painted white and blue, dressed in starry pants and a night cap. Moon. He was petting the kid's back, seemingly comforting him from a nightmare. From his chest played a sweet lullaby. You did not know how much time has passed before you heard a sleepy groan from one of the other children. You quickly hid yourself behind the big doors. You didn't know what happened but you could not pull your gaze away from him. Something about him, had you wanting to stay there, come closer to him even. You peeked inside the play area again, moon was there comforting some other kid from sobbing. You decided it was time to head back to the magazines, both to think about what happened just now and because it was still open hours and guests seeing you would be really bad. Though one thing was for sure, you would come back to the daycare some other time. = = = = = = = = = = I hope you enjoyed reading part one of my fic.I really like this idea, i have a lot planned but i don’t know how i’m gonna write it yet. It was a long time since i wrote a fic so lemme know what you think about it, kudos/hearts appriciated as always! Love you! <3

[iwriteweightgainbullshit]

“Yew look good in my clothes, but yew look better without” 18+

Lee Bodecker x reader.

Requested by @chubbychaser384

Edit made by me.

I hope you enjoy this fic! Thank you very much for requesting a fanfic about Sheriff Bodecker!

And sorry that you had to wait so long. :’)

Please check out their blog! @chubbychaser384

Words: 1450

Warning: 18+ content, cursing, cumming, light stuffing, belly kink, handcuffs, sex, tell me if I’m missing a warning.

*

You are around the age of 25 and you are married to Sheriff Bodecker who is 45 in this fic.

*

Sheriff comes home after a long day at work, he is surprised to see you sitting on the couch in one of his uniforms.

He greets you with a small kiss on your lips and sits down next to you.

“Do you like my outfit babe?” you say while smirking at him.

“Hm, ye’r missin’ one thing sweetheart” he grabs his sheriff hat and puts it on your head. Of course, the hat is way too big for you and falls over your eyes.

“Yew look good in my clothes, but yew look better without” He smirks at you and throws you on his lap.

You start rubbing small circles on his belly and notice how the buttons of his shirt almost pop off.

“Hm babe?” you chuckle.

“Yeah angel?”

“Did you have a big meal on work?” you point at his stuffed belly.

“Oh yeah maybe I overdid it a bit, don’t yew think angel?”

You start giving him a belly rub and give him small kisses just below his navel. “I think you still have some room in there for candy, don’t ya sheriff? “

“Depends, ‘re yew gonna feed it to me?”

You quickly run away and come back with a family sized bag of candy.

*

You get back on his lap and start feeding him the candy with one hand and using the other one to give him a belly rub.

After a while you start noticing the buttons of his shirt are holding on to dear life. You are almost halfway thru the bag of candy when one of the buttons pops off.

“Better take that off Sheriff before you lose more buttons” you say while grabbing a Lolli and licking it very sexual.

“Hm yew would like tha�� don’t yew angel?” You start nodding.

“I’ll take it off, if you take ye’r clothes off first sweetheart” Once again you start nodding.

He slowly starts undressing you, staring with your shirt (his work shirt, which is way too big for you) and then takes of your pants (his work pants, which are way too big for you as well).

*

The moment he wants to take of your panties he notices you are wearing his boxers and underneath that a pair of fishnet stockings.

He stops and looks at you with a warning face.

You look at him innocently and ask him “what’s wrong babe?”.

“Don’t act like yew don’t know what’s wrong.”

You just look at him with your mouth shut.

“Oh now we’r not talkin’ huh? Yew planned this, yew naughty girl”

“But I thought you liked me in your clothes?”

“I do but I didn’t lie when I said ‘Yew look good in my clothes, but yew look better without’. So ye’r still a bad girl.”

*

You look down, still not talking.

“Ye’r a badgirl, yew know what happens to badgirls right?”

“Tell me babe” you smirk knowing what’s going to happen next.

“No no badgirl. Badgirls don’t say babe to me, they call me sheriff.”

“I’m sorry sheriff”

“No badgirl, yew aren’t gonna get ‘way with this that easy”

“I’m not sheriff?” you smirk.

“Nah, I should arrest yew. Get up and turn ‘round now”

You do as he says and get off his lap.

“Hands behind ye’r back badgirl” and again you do as he says.

He gets his cuffs and cuffs your hands together.

*

“Yew gonna do whatever I tell yew, do yew understand that?” he whispers in your ear. His belly brushes against your back, which makes you shiver with pleasure.

“Whatever ya want sheriff” you nod.

“Get on yew knees now” he says while taking off his belt.

You do as he says. “Now bent over with yer ass up”

As soon as you get in that position Lee takes off your (his) boxers and rips open your fishnet stockings, takes his belt in his right hand, and hold you with his left hand.

*

“Count from ten to zero with me” and before you can answer he spanks your ass with his belt.

“Ten, say it with me”

“Ten”

Then he spanks twice not giving you a chance to count.

“Nine, eight.”

“N-nine, eight”

He spanks you three times this time.

“Seven, six, five, good job only five more”

“Seven, s-six, five”

This time he only spanks you once, you moan in pleasure and pain.

“Four, ‘m gonna leave a mark of m’ hand on yer pretty ass”

“Four, please sheriff”

He uses his hand for the next three spanks.

“Three, two, one, only one more. Ye’r doin’ so good.”

“Three, two, one” you moan.

He spanks you for the last time.

“Zero, yew did real good”

“Zero” you moan out.

*

“Almost done, jus’ one more thing. Get on yer knees again and suck me with that pretty mouth of yours.”

You immediately get on your knees but notice his pants are still on.

“Sheriff, could ya gimme a hand with the pants?”

“How bout I do the button and yew do the zipper with yer teeth and if yew succeed that I’ll give you my cock for that pretty hole of yours instead of yer mouth? How does that sound?”

You nod yes with big eyes.

“Use yer big girl words.”

“Please sheriff”

Lee opens his button, and you open his zipper with your teeth surprisingly fast and of course kiss his belly.

*

“Goodjob babygirl, now get on the couch”

You’re still wearing his handcuffs but with a little struggle you get on the bed.

He kisses your thighs and puts one of his fingers in your hole.

“Already so wet for me huh?”

“Yes sheriff.”

He takes out his cock and slowly puts it in you, you already start moaning.

He starts fucking you while grabbing your tits.

“hmm such a pretty cunt, who does it belong to?”

“You sheriff!” you moan.

Lee isn’t used to being top but since you’re still in his handcuffs he decided this would be better.

You don’t mind at all since you can see his belly jiggle better in this position. You want to grab his love handles and shake them but your hands are still painfully behind your back.

*

“SHERIFF” you scream as he starts fucking you harder.

“Yew want me to cum in yew? Yew want me to fuck a baby in yew? Hm?”

“Yes please sheriff, please cum in me, please!” you moan.

And with that said he comes in you.

“Cum for me babygirl”

And you do.

*

You’re both out of breath and stay like this for a minute or two, till Lee realizes you are still in his handcuffs.

“Oh angel. ‘Re hurt? Lemme take off those handcuffs sweetheart”

“Can I call you babe again sheriff?” you chuckle at how concerned he is all the sudden.

“Ofcoures angel, I think yew learned not to tease with me, didn’t yew?

“Yes babe” you chuckle.

“But now seriously, does it hurt angel?” His face getting serious again.

“A bit but not too much” you say smiling.

*

He immediately takes of the handcuffs and carries you to bed.

“Ye’r comfortable angel?” he says while cleaning you with a warm washcloth.

“I would be more with one of your hoodies on”

“Angel how many times do I have to tell yew I prefer more yew without clothes on then in mine.” He chuckles.

“Yeah, but I’m getting cold and your clothes are comfy” you chuckle too.

“Alright because yew look so good in them” he winks.

He gives you one of his hoodies and one of his boxers.

“But babe, I thought I wasn’t allowed to wear your boxers” you look confused.

He laughs. “Yew are but yew can’t expect me I to not do the same thing I just did when I see ye’r wearin’ them.”

You smile at him.

“Yew want some cookies and a movie? “ he asks while giving you a kiss on your head.

“Does it involve cuddles?” you look at him with puppy eyes.

“’course that’s a part of the package deal angel” he chuckles.

*

You spend the rest of the evening with your head on your husband’s pudgy belly wondering how you got so lucky.

He may look like a tough guy but secretly he is soft in all the ways you can imagine it.

You’ve never been happier in your life.

*

If someone has any requests, you can ask! Don't be afraid to ask anything :)

I wish y'all a nice day! :)

[kosmosguk]

5 days of spooktober~ #2: carnal

day #2: vampire seokjin x reader

word count: 1.4k

summ. midnight is a horrific hour to be awake, and it is at midnight in which you open the door to the ceo’s office and discover the bloody monster that lurks underneath his gentlemanly disguise.

warnings: mature themes (cunnilingus, bloodplay(ish?), mindbreak), dubcon themes, death, violence, gore, yandere, 18+, near-death experiences, explicit language

a/n: the fact that i managed to get part 2 out ?? on time ??? this is a whole celebration- hoping to make up for my inactivity thru this spooky series. also the rough draft was delirious so i had to rewrite it and i vibe with this version so much more. ty for 3.5k babes and happy halloween (10 days early) <3 lemme know if i made any mistakes because i never review my work before posting oops

You remember as a little girl how your grandma would gently stroke your hair, tucking locks of it behind your hair, and look outside at the night. She would hum a lullaby as she lulled you to sleep, and before you could close your eyes, you would hear her say aloud:

“Never be outside at midnight.”

As a little girl, you had thought it to be a serious remark, the kind that settled into your nightmares where beasts would emerge from the shadowy depths of your closet when the clock struct midnight. As an adult, you now viewed it as a doting relative’s overprotective instinct coming out at as an unconventional comment.

But now, you couldn’t help remembering those moments as you opened the door of your boss’s office, and as the grandfather clock in the room struck midnight, your eyes fell on your boss’s teeth buried in the crook of the new intern’s neck.

You froze, the files in your hand dropping like the overdramatic, overplayed scene of some cheesy low-budget horror movie, and you made eye contact with the man…no monster…in the room.

There was blood, the deep crimson color of mortality, stained over his features, soaking his jaw and the collar of his black shirt, and you could feel the images of him kindly smiling at you as you handed him his coffee shattering in your mind and being replaced with images of the true monster he had been hiding all along.

You were one of the only few people left in the building, and you clasped a hand over your mouth before you could scream. You could not risk anyone else being in danger.

You watched, petrified, as your boss dropped the intern onto the floor, and her body made a hollow thud as she hit the ground. You heard a low moan of pain come from her, and a part of you was grateful that she was still alive, but a majority of you was terrified of what fate you were to undergo.

“Secretary (L/n),’’ his voice was like a purr, and he wiped the blood off his chin and lapped it up, his eyes refusing to wave from the strong hold they held over yours. You were lost in the depths of his eyes, the sheen of red that replaced his normal gentle brown, and your unconscious attempt for a scream strangled in your throat. “Overtime?’’

God, this was the bad pinnacle of some B-grade horror blockbuster, and it seemed like you were the unfortunate side character. If you had been watching yourself from the comfort of your sofa, you would have laughed and commented on how shitty the movie was. But it was different when you were that unfortunate character.

“Yes, sir,’’ you regained your composure and tried to ignore the elephant—or in this case, the unconscious girl—in the room before gesturing at the scattered documents on the ground,’’ I was wondering if you could sign these documents, Boss Kim, but it seems like you’re…preoccupied.”

Come on, a few more words, and you would be out of here dialing the number of the nearest emergency provider. Your boss was nuts, and that should have been capitalized and dotted with an exclamation mark.

“Should I get some help for your…dinner date? Or may I leave now?’’ your voice sounded wry, a sure distance away from the inner panic you were feeling. Your boss looked taken aback, and for a moment, you almost thought you could see the gentle him of the day return. But then he opened his mouth, showing a glimpse of brutally sharp fangs, and laughed.

“That’s what I love most about you, Secretary (L/n). You never seem surprised at anything,’’ he took steps closer to you, stepping over the paperwork on the ground and leaving bloody footsteps on them. He sounded pleased…too pleased.

“I want to see what it’s like for you to unravel. Don’t mind the mess, Secretary (L/n), or may I—?’’ he was close now. You couldn’t move as he reached behind you and shut the door behind you and locked it with a resounding click. He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, and his voice was like a domineering taunt as he fondly stroked your still cheek with his unusually cold hand.

“I’ve always kept an eye on you. You’re…quite different from my previous secretaries. They fell like easy prey when I wanted them to, all for some money that wouldn’t even be worth much once they’re dead. But you...,” he chuckled and took your hand, pressing a frigid kiss on the curve of your knuckles,” For some reason, I don’t quite like the idea of you being dead…even though you just smell so tempting.’’

He held you closer to him, and your voice felt trapped in your throat. He slid his palm down the curve of your waist and held you tightly as if you were the lover of a beast. And perhaps, in that moment and in every moment from then on, you were.

“I imagined her as you, but it didn’t seem the same. Even when I ripped my teeth through her neck, all she did was plea to me to take her as my lover. But now…Now I have you.”

He was smearing blood on you again as his teeth sunk into the soft curve of your neck, and you felt dizzy as he drank from you. It hurt. It hurt so, so much. But you could feel a buzz, tingling underneath your punctured skin and spreading down into a heat in your stomach. You tried to fend him off, but…

Your eyes were glazing over now. You felt him take his fangs out of your neck and lower to the ground, and you were being pressed to the door as he spread your legs and fervently lapped at your clothed pussy before ripping through your stockings and sinking his tongue into your trembling hot walls.

“Mmph!’’ your attempt to speak came out as a muffled moan, and your fingers tried to claw at the edge of the door as each movement of your boss’s tongue stroked a churning fire in your stomach. He pulled away one step before you could come, your slick coating his tongue and snapping as he went lower to your inner thighs and sunk his teeth into the flesh.

It should have hurt this time. You should have been screaming. But for some reason, the tinge of pain added a new edge to your dazed high, and you were panting as he sucked at the blood. You felt his finger probe at your soaked walls and then they were stroking your clit, rolling over the hardened bud in light strokes that left you trembling. You could feel your eyes roll back, and your voice broke out in lewd moans of his name.

“Boss Kim…ngh…Boss Kim, I want you…please, please,’’ you were close to sobbing now, every fear drained from you along with your blood, and you gripped his soft hair in tight fists as you sank into a toe-curling climax.

He was back on his feet now, and you could feel how hard he was as he pressed closer against you, his tongue dragging against the wounds on your neck. Your clothes were soaked with a mixture of your own blood and the intern’s, but you could hear the unzipping of Boss Kim’s slacks. He wasn’t done, and as you cupped his sculpted jaw with shaky hands, your eyes still glazing over as the burning heat of your trembling walls seared your insides, and pleaded for him to fuck you, you realized you weren’t done either.

Perhaps, if you had listened to your grandma’s warning for you to never come outside after midnight, you would have been safe, oblivious to what truly transpired on behind the closed doors of your boss’s office at night. Or maybe the outcome would have remained the same, with a blood-soaked you pinned underneath the rutting hips of your ravenous boss.

A part of you hoped for the latter. And as you held onto him tightly, you heard the clock strike half past midnight.

[xsimxx77]

Dean ❤️😭

So yeah Spn ended and ep20 sucked and it's been days and I still can't process ! (I'm a mess btw so God knows how this will come out)

The finale sucked and dean's death sucked basically I'm devastated !! And no it's not just "another Tv character's death" it's not just "a death" no ! it just sucks and lemme start up with some shit here !

So why his death is just bullshit !

Dean out of no where was put into some circumstances that can't be understood or be dealth with at 4 LIKE 4 ! Like suddenly his life just turned upside down and he was faced with "you gotta take care of ur little brother!" HOW WOULD A 4 YEAR OLD UNDERSTAND WHAT TAKING CARE OF SOMEONE MEAN !!? but he did it anyways and guess what he freaking did amazing job in that !!

But wait -

HOW OLD WAS DEAN RIGHT HERE !!!? (btw this is the dark side of the moon ep when angels made them relive their fav memories ) he used to do what he was always doing his whole life !!! His father just messed up sth and he just went there and tried to fix it , tried to make it better for his mother ! He just did that !! And Sammy was like wow "never realized how long" ! yeah Sammy apparently he's been doing this his whole freaking life !

He had to do things that weren't even his job even before Mary's death! He was just so good that he couldn't see her anxious or sad about certain stuff ! And HE WAS SO YOUNG BACK THEN OMG !

yeah He never had a childhood thanks to his lovely father ! Been treated his whole life as a soldier , was raised like one !! He was always convinced that he had one job , just one job ! What he felt and how he felt never really mattered !

Reminder: he never got to graduate , never got to college ! And how he was just so proud that his samrtass brother went to Stanford is just so precious !

"Always wanted to be a fireman" wanted ! What a word huh ! And again sammy went just like wow "never told me that" yeah Sam cuz what he wanted was never important apparently !

He always thought that the things he loved were just never his things , thinking he is nothing and no one. Always thought that he's not really worth anything !!

Imagine being convinced that everyone around u will leave u at certain point and u can't be enough ! and how he's so attached to his family knowing he can't be that for them !!

And don't u dare tell me that John didn't really affect him with so many things !! His whole life Dean was just trying to be good for the man!

Yeah I mean what a bright life right

and yes we can clearly see Dean using sarcasm in facing his problems ! Just all with the "Idc what happens to me" attitude but not bcz he's just careless like that nah not really he's just too scared to admit that he is scared if that makes sense ! U can see that clearly in many seasons

in s3 Sam was trying to find a way to save his brother ! And dean was just like u can't do anything cuz there's no way and acting with the "careless" sarcastic way he is and Sam was just like "How can you" , "what's wrong with you!" He just can't let himself feel that he will be saved cuz there is nothing that can save him , he even admits that he is scared later on !

and to me Dean is this one dude with that mindset that he can't have hope , he won't allow himself to have hope ! So yeah he can't let himself believe that Sam will save him bcz what if he believed that and it just didn't work ! He's just too scared !! I mean can you imagine that !!

he was just so scared dammit !!

S10 (this whole season was so heartbreaking tbh)

and here !! (btw this the paint it black ep) How he just admits that he keeps expecting death ! And how he's just scared !!! "there's people , things feelings I want to experience differently!" And again with the want word !! HE WANTED THINGS FOR HIMSELF but never thought or even made things for HIMSELF !! and u telling me why this hurts so bad !!

He loved cars , wanted to be a mechanic or maybe even a rockstar and we can see that from previous seasons but he gets to talk about it with that girl in the "bad boys" ep ! reminder : that this is the "let him rot in jail" ep ! Imagine Dean with that mind of his and all of those thoughts thinking he's not worth it and shit like that only for his amazing father to leave him out there just like that !!! Thanks again John ! 🙃 YOU CAN'T TELL ME THAT HE DIDN'T HAVE DREAMS OF HIS OWN !! But again he did come back for baby Sammy and I love him !!

I just love him sm and I know he never deserved any of this !!

How he was just convinced that he's just a grunt and couldn't see himself as this smart strong hero he truely is !!!😭 HE'S BEEN FIGHTING HIS WHOLE LIFE ! He'S BEEN SO GOOD HIS WHOLE FREAKING LIFE !!

How he just kept questioning why would an angel save him from hell !! "Why me !!? If there is a God out there why would he give a crap about me ?"

Never really came across his mind that he's worth it !

he never knew , never been told how great he was until Cas happened !! And Cas , this one angel is a wholeee other story !❤️🥺

"imagine telling someone u love 'em only to have him give u this face !" Yeah lol that was funny but u know what ! imagine believing ur whole freaking life that ur nothing and not really worth anything , that ur just so pathetic and can't do anything and then having soemone just state how good and lovely you are and that they love u ! Like love u ! Yeah I find that funny too u know ! Like look at his face it just feels like "don't tell me that cuz I ain't worth it , I ain't that good Cas "

and I just love Cas so much cuz he just wanted to show Dean how lovely , selfless and just how precious he is !

Cas loved Dean the way he should be loved !! He just saw right thru his soul and loved it all !! Cuz he saw exactly what he is !! saw it all and understood it AND HE FREAKING LOVED HIM FOR EVERYTHING!!

and when we finally see Dean kinda accepting that yes he might be worth it , that yes he might be good just like Cas said ! That he deserves to live a life for himself !! They just kill him off !! Just like that ! Throwing everything away !

And this this this right here just hits so hard and painfully rn !! Cuz How many times did Dean say this over many seasons !! Like how many times did he say that "a hunt gone wrong" is what gonna end him !! and seriously don't u dare tell me that yeah he was just ok with that or he wasn't really scared or that *the ending* he's got is the perfect one for him cuz nah !! IT'S FREAKING NOT !!! He kept saying that and he was expecting that !! HE WAS EXPECTING GETTING KILLED LIKE THAT ALL HIS FREAKING LIFE !! But he was literally dreading it !!!That's why this sucks !! That's why this is just so messed up and cruel !!

Imagine getting killed the exact way ur dreading for it to happen !

Like When Dean fianlly goes like "We gotta keep living Sammy" he really wanted to give this a shot !! He wanted to finally give it a shot for Cas and for himself! It's like he finally allowed himself to have hope !! Finally got his whole freaking free wil to do literally whatever he wanted !!!! He had a dog u know ! 😭 HE FREAKING APPLIED FOR A JOB !! FOR A JOB !! HE WAS GONNA GIVE THINGS OTHER THAN HUNTING A SHOT !! HE WANTED THIS !!

only to have him lose all of that !! all ripped away from him !! So yeah this is NOT JUST ANOTHER CHARACTER'S DEATH !!

He was so scared , he was freaking so scared and shaking "didn't think that this day would be today" he just wanted Sam close cuz he was so scared !! and u telling me that this is just another character's death!!

my baby boy , my comfort character deserved better !! I love him so much I can't-

i really thought Cas's death was bad (and it was hell tbh) but Dean's ending just messed me up in ways I can't even tell !

like he had to suffer too while dying !! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR !! Like ffs !!

this is literally depressing and so cruel !! And hopeless LIKE SO FUCKING HOPELESS !

he's been suffering his whole freaking life !! ALL HIS LIFE !!

and I know That he kinda got his peace at heaven (and tbh that might be the only thing that will help me go on with my life and the fact that Cas isn't in the empty too !) but that's just still doesn't make things right !! He freaking deserved a life !! HE FREAKING DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER !!

I just hate those writers so bad !

I will just end this with saying THANK U DEAN WINCHESTER , u've helped me thru alot !! u've changed me ❤️😭 ! Hope ur having all happiness u deserve at heaven baby boy ❤️😭😭

[babysizedfics]

i should’ve phrased it better and that’s really on me and i’m very sorry!! (bad brain times earlier 🥲) i meant to like ask if you had spare comfort hcs about patton and either of the boys but i am not good at words -🦑

oh thats ok!! lemme rifle thru my library of headcanons for u squid -- this one was built with liv!

okay because of vee's diaper and his loss of balance, sometimes when he's been crawling then plops down to sit on his butt the diaper just like is thick and kinda slippy on the fabric and because its rounded and slippy it makes it hard to sit up and basically vee rocks backward

and his legs are like still in the position he was sitting, criss crossed or just bent up and you just watch baby vee topple over like an egg

the first few times it happened he freaked out and flailed and a couple times he cried when he hit the ground before anyone caught him

but it happens so often now that he got used to it, and he doesnt get hurt because A) modt of the time one of his family members catches him with one arm. theyre all so used to it now that they just chuckle and roll virgil back up onto his butt - both the cgs and ro do this

or B) he is does fall but usually he's surrounded by softies and pillows and blankies on the floor since that's how the cgs set up a babysafe area on the carpet

now when he DOES rock back, he rockas and rolls onto his back and is quiet for a few seconds...

and then he giggles and babbles 'ababa' and where his legs are folded above him he kicks his lil feets in the air a bit

and it's because this position of being on his back on a soft surface with his leg bent up reminds him of happy diaper changes and it makes him feel littler everytime!

bonus points if from where he is on the floor he can see one of his family members sitting or standing above him and looking down at him because that's even more like a diaper change and it just makes him feel TINY and giggly

and one time while vee is gigglin and kickin on the floor suddenly he sees papa lean over him with a nice big soft smile! and he coos "aww did my baby have a little tumble?"

"baba w-b-bumble!"

"yes sweetheart, you tumbled!" and patton picks up jiji where she was on the blankie and holds her up and "my baby went weeeeeeee~" and shows him jiji slowly falling down from the air then wiggled her over virgils tummy

and because papa is being funny it just makes vee so much more excited and he squeals and grabs jiji tight and kicks his feet and giggles

and his baby gigglin makes papa giggle too and he can't help but reach down and wiggle his fingers around vee's sides and vee's giggles get squeaky and he babbles through then "baba ma mamaba" all while gigglin

and it makes patton laugh so much and he leans down and blows a raspberry on vee's cheek and vee SQUEALS and then patton laughs and oresses lots of kisses in the same place and they have a bit of a giggle fit

but after they calm down vee stays lying on the blankie with his lil baby legs folded up bc it's such a baby position and they play a game with papa leaning over him - maybe just patton singing and nursery rhyme while vee babbles and tries to help sing - and it makes them both feel so so deep in their little and caregiver headspaces 🥺

[daintykeith]

RUN KID RUN

Title: Run Kid Run

Summary: Dutch and Hosea are trying to teach John how to read but he runs off after they got frustrated and Arthur goes deep into the woods looking for John.

Word count: 2298

Notes: mild cursing | brief scene despicting an almost hanging | feedback is appreciated!!!

Tags: @onlytherocksliveforever

Happy late Christmas and Happy new year! I’m sorry I’m so late, this took me forever; I’ve been giving it a long thought and decided to comply to your second item in your wish list!

2) i love DUMB ASS John Marston and his better looking brother Arthur; give me a slice of life with the two of them pre-canon, or a story about them helping the other thru a tough time.

I’ve decided to combine both ideas and so this story came to be.

When Arthur was twenty-three, he saw a boy—dirty, savage and with a look in his eyes that had given up on living. This boy was with a rope in his neck, ready to be hanged. Dark gray with no reflection but death itself; no tears, no regret. Dead Eyes that held onto dear life with a fierceness reflected in his fists.

Next to the boy, an unnamed man spoke words of dead wisdom and nonsense which to the eyes of Arthur was meaningless.

“We have come to see the of law enacted. We will not sit idly by as people take the law into their own hands!”

Heavy kind of bullshit that Arthur didn’t enjoy a bit.

The crowd of the town roared loudly in excitement and agreement. For them, it was only entertainment, a show that made Arthur’s gut churn with anger. He tilted his hat lower and turned around, ready to move on. However, Dutch’s hand landed on his shoulder and stopped him.

“He looks like you did, a while ago,” Dutch said with a smirk before the gun in his hip shot the rope on the boy’s neck.

“He doesn’t.”

The boy’s shine returned in a glimpse that Arthur caught with both his eyes and heart. A will to fight and survive, to get the hell out of the mess that was about to start.

“What the hell Dutch?!”

“He was not meant to. Not yet.”

A sense of relief in his chest appeared with a long deep breath. He was glad for the boy that had gotten a chance to live, what was Dutch and Hosea thinking when they brought him into camp?

Arthur got wounded in the dirty fight they had in town for freeing the boy and he was resting in his tent, with Susan on his side cleaning his injuries. When Dutch and Hosea walked in, he asked: “What took ya’ so long?” with a warm grin that quickly faded into disbelief.

The boy stood between the two men, pouting his lips, frowning and crossing his arms as means to make himself more intimidating. The way Dutch smiled, looked and treated him with his gentle gestures and Hosea had given his jacket to protect him from the chilling breeze of that night was so familiar to Arthur; he had been in that place after all. What was that boy doing in camp? Similar to himself in the past, why did they needed to bring someone as intense and dumb as him? Wasn’t one dumb enough? He wondered.

“What’s your name, kid?” Arthur asked after he noticed Dutch’s gaze on him.

The boy stood silent.

“Come on boy, tell him.” Dutch crouched to his side and whispered words to him that Arthur wasn’t able to hear.

He remained silent.

When Arthur was twenty-four, he met the boy. A month had passed from his rescue and Arthur’s birthday quickly arrived with the cold and mean air of winter. There was no snow landscape yet, the skies had become dark and gray like the boy’s eyes and the fallen leaves

“John Marston,” the boy said with a mean streak that left Arthur with a bad taste in his tongue.

“Arthur Morgan.” He extended his hand to greet but John had already abandoned and left him with the words unsaid in his lips.

Arthur sighed and placed his hands on his gun belt; he could see John’s silhouette far away, hiding somewhere where he thought no one could see him, and grinned. A part of him still refused to acknowledge John, prouder than a bull and wilder than a cougar in a midnight sky, and another part of him found itself in that boy who slept with a knife under his pillow.

“John, come here!” Dutch called the next morning.

Arthur was laying in comfortably in his bed, with his worn-out leather hat covering his eyes, thinking about what to draw in his journal. A bird? A flower? An herb? His imagination was as dull as dishwater and his brain couldn’t tell skunks from house cats. Boredom was partly guilty of the dullness, too.

“John, come on.” From his closed tent, Arthur saw how Hosea’s figure grabbed John’s arm and took him somewhere beyond the reach of their shadow. A loud growl, from the boy, echoed through the whole camp that Arthur scoff. The boy was that stubborn?

The blue-eyed man closed his journal, stood up from his bed and walked out of his tent to do the chores of the day. As he chopped wood, he could see Dutch and Hosea, with John between them, sitting together in one of the round tables near the food station with a book in hand. This was going to be fun to see, Arthur thought.

“Okay, let’s try this again,” Dutch said firmly. “Read this part here.”

“No,” John scowled.

“Why not? It’s not that hard if you try. Here. The king in his…” Hosea slowly talked

John went silent.

“Boy,” Dutch lowly growled.

Arthur swung his axe over the log and splat it in half. When he was putting the wood aside, he peeked at John. The boy had his arms crossed, frowning and giving the book in the table a deadly gaze. Did he hate reading that much? Arthur laughed to himself and got caught by Hosea who looked at him with disapproval. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. He tried to slowly walk away, feigning ignorance, but the older man approached quicker than he predicted and grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Arthur.” Hosea squeezed hard the shoulder blade and grinned in a way that created grimace in Arthur’s expression, “wanna’ join us? I thought I could show you the new book I got!”

Arthur grunted.

Just great. He knew Hosea’s way of scolding Arthur and thinking about it annoyed him, however, he didn’t expect to see Dutch vexed, red-faced and squeezing the book with both his hands, yelling to John.

On the other hand, Hosea was perplexed. He dragged his hands over his now tired face and sighed.

“He wasn’t this troublesome!” Dutch said to Hosea, referring obviously to Arthur.

Something in that statement made Arthur chest puff in pride. Oh boy, he really liked that. Even if he refused to acknowledge this feeling to everyone else, he liked it when Dutch or Hosea praised him.

Arthur remembered the days when Dutch and Hosea were teaching him to read. Hot summer days, mosquitoes everywhere and that smell he couldn’t forget, berries and lemon, which brought his mind ten years back, when he was a thin, small and young boy. He grinned to the loveable thought and looked at Dutch fighting with John.

“Dutch, what’re ya doin’!? Don’t ya’ grab him like that and rub his head!”

“I know he can do it, but he’s not even trying!”

Something Arthur knew is that Dutch would take as “true” whatever he assumed; and hardly took back his words—standing for what he believed, a true blessing for the wise and a curse for the ignorant. Later on, Arthur didn’t know which of those Dutch was. A true mystery until the very end.

“Dutch, calm down, you’re gonna scare ‘im…”

“But I know he can—"

“Shut up, you pair of dimwits!” Susan yelled from afar as she sewed one of Arthur’s shirt.

And before any of them could say any further word, John slammed his hands against the table and ran away into the woods that surrounded the camp.

“Get back here, boy!”

What a mess. When Arthur saw no signs of Dutch calming down or Hosea backing down, he decided to look out for the now goner.

“John! Where are ya’!?” Arthur yelled as he stomped over some broken sticks. Definitively John.

“Ya’ damn bastard, dontchu’ ever get tired?” he whispered to himself, wondering as he furrowed his brows and rushed his pace.

As he walked deeper into the woods, the stars that normally would be faded under sunlight, had come out without any shame, telling Arthur to hurry. The breeze got colder and the sky darker and even if he found clues of where he could have gone to, the boy sure knew how to keep out of sight. He was going nuts; what the hell was the kid running from?! He had nothing to run from and nowhere to go, what was he thinking?

“John!” He called once more before he heard a gasp to his side.

The moment he turned his head, he saw a terrified boy who had fallen into the ground. Unlike the first time he saw him, fierceness shone in his eyes despite of the fear that his thin body could not hide—however, that didn’t mean it wasn’t agile. He quickly got up into his feet and started running towards the glowing moon.

“Oh no, you ain’t!”

He could hear John’s broken breathing and how he gasped for the air he didn’t have; it broke Arthur’s heart.

“Watchu’ running from, kid?!”

Arthur got closer with every step he took and grabbed without any restrains John’s wrist to stop him, quite brusque for his liking but there was nothing he could do. Those iron eyes gazed at him with the loathe and anger he deserved which left a sour flavor in his mouth. John struggled to free himself from Arthur’s grip but it only got stronger.

“Lemme ask you again, kid. Watchu’ running from?”

John struggled again and Arthur grabbed his other wrist. He took a deep breathe and closed his eyes for a moment. Was it this hard for everyone else to deal with him? Being a kid in the streets wasn’t easy, it roughens you up in a way that shatters what you truly are, breaking and eventually rotting every corner in your mind. But he was no kid in the streets no more, he could finally begin living and not just survive.

“He wanted to kill me,” John replied in a quick low whisper.

Arthur raised a brow. “Dutch was shootin’ his mouth off and by now Hosea and Susan must have given ‘im a black eye for that.” He tried to sound reassuring.

“Let go!” John fought with all his strengths to free himself; Arthur tightened his grip.

“Listen to me, kid. You got nothing to run from; here you got a bed, food and people who want ya’—”

“Dead…” John interrupted.

“Let me finish! Goddamit—as I was saying. None of ‘em want ya’ to be a goner.”

“How can I trust you? They all said I was an idiot, useless. They all hate me and they’ll kill me. It’s better if I’m gone.”

“We’re family.” Arthur meant it. He had found a part of himself in the little black-haired boy that wanted to keep running; running to never look back, from all the things he didn’t deserve.

“We ain’t.”

“Listen to me you little piece of…! You became part of us the very moment Dutch cut that rope on your neck and brought you into the camp.”

“Still; that doesn’t mean I can trust you guys. You’re outlaws.”

John wasn’t buying a single bit of what Arthur was saying. Shit. At this rate he was gonna run off by himself and God knows what would happen to him.

“They took me in when I was your age.” John’s eyes widened in curiosity; “I… well, my momma died when I was real young and my daddy… let’s say I wish he did too. They taught me how to read and Hosea taught me how to draw.”

Despite of the nervousness inside him, Arthur took the journal out of his satchel and gave it to John without letting go of one of his wrists. He eagerly flipped through the pages and stopped to look at some of the drawings it contained; some of the graphite stuck into his fingers, but it didn’t stop him from eyeing with detail each illustration.

“Why didn’t ya’ read? Back then, when Dutch and Hosea asked you to.”

There was a long pregnant pause. “I did—read it, I mean. I, uh, wasn’t sure to er, say it out loud.”

“Really?” Arthur smiled from ear to ear. “See? You’re smart, John! Ya’ ain’t that bad, there’s potential.”

John blushed at Arthur’s praise and kept looking at the drawings until he reached the last one, that page that had remained blank for the whole day.

“They are family to me. Family is everything; I’d die for it.” His voice didn’t shake even once.

John closed the journal and gave Arthur a gaze full of admiration that Arthur wasn’t worthy of. He could be one nasty son-of-a-bitch, rash to anger and emotions; unfamiliar to giving inspirational speeches like Dutch would do or smooth-talking like Hosea the Conman.

“And I will…” he stuttered, “I, uh…”

“You what.”

“I won’t let them kill ya’; just in case.”

A mischievous grin appeared in John’s face. “That won’t stop me tho.”

Arthur had let his guard down. John escaped from his grip and started to run the fastest he could. Where the hell was he going to and, most importantly, where the heck had he gotten all that damn energy from?

“Cuz’ I’ll kill ya’ myself, you little piece of shit!”

“Thank you, brother” John screamed in the distance.

“You ain’t got the right to be my brother!” Yet, he wanted to say but kept it to himself.

That day, when Arthur was twenty-four, his family grew by one member. Even if mocked him every now and then and behaved like assholes, it was the most important thing to Arthur. It was everything he had—not like money or gold; those two could go straight to hell unless Dutch and Hosea gave the word.

[kbstories]

impression//expression

“It’s not like Kirishima had come all this way to U.A. to immediately break the promise he made to himself upon arrival.

It’s just that Bakugou is as feral as they come, and the moment Kirishima recognizes it’s fear he felt crawling up his spine that day, he makes it his personal mission to face it head-on until it’s gone.”

(Or: Being friends with Bakugou Katsuki is anything but a linear experience. Kirishima Eijirou would have it no other way.)

Tags: Kirishima POV, Developing Friendships, Kamino Arc, Kidnapping & Aftermath, Hurt/Comfort, Bakugou Gets A Hug

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Content warning for kidnapping, aftermath of violence. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9.

***

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

i’m gonna die (sent 19:08)

no seriously i’m this 👌🏻 close to losing it bro (sent 19:08)

aizawa’s voice is so zzzz and it’s like sir,, i’m begging,,,, (sent 19:09)

a little bit of energy. just a little bit (sent 19:09)

A nudge to his side, somewhat urgent.

shit brb (sent 19:10)

“Dude.”

Kirishima keeps his voice down to a hiss, shooting a glance at Aizawa’s turned back just in case. Hidden behind his pencil case, his phone shows Bakugou has read his messages – near-immediately, as always – before Kirishima locks the screen. His own face is reflected on sleek, innocent black.

Next to him, Kaminari is looking at him like he’s lost his mind. “Don’t dude me, dude”, he whispers back. “Texting in Aizawa’s class? D’you have a death wish?”

Next to Kaminari, Mina leans over her desk, clearly curious and uncaring of her notes crinkling quietly under her elbows. “You? Kiri, paragon of wholesomeness and sunshine, breaking the rules? Lemme guess, it’s because of Bakugou.”

Next to Mina, Sero joins the fray with a muted headshake. “So brave yet so reckless. Truly inspiring.”

“You can say that again. That guy’s scary, man.” That’s Kaminari again. He leans in conspiratorially, nodding at Kirishima’s phone. “You got Blasty’s number? How? He almost bit my head off when I invited him to the 1-A chat.”

“Uh, yeah? We’re besties. But guys…”

If they were anywhere else, Kirishima would let out a whine. All he wanted to do was keep himself awake by texting his bro, is that such a crime? Especially since Bakugou’s the only one of ‘em who is actually allowed out there, where the fun stuff is happening. It’s downright cruel to have a new challenge dangled in front of their eyes like the juiciest steak only to be dragged away to the equivalent of plain steamed broccoli. Or something.

Point is: Kirishima’s bored enough he could cry and Aizawa, bless his insomnia-plagued soul, is making it about a thousand times worse with his monotone mumbling while he continues to write whatever-the-fuck in chalk to illustrate his point.

Three mouths open simultaneously in what Kirishima knows will be a too-loud bout of teasing – a frantic gesture of his hand to shut up, shut up, shut up has identical grins bursting on his friends’ faces.

Grins that disappear the instant the familiar sense of Aizawa’s quirk washes over them. Uh oh.

Aizawa doesn’t even have to say anything. Not even a brief pause registers in his lecture yet Kirishima snaps to attention so hard his buttcheeks clench as he furiously scribbles down what’s on the board. Some sort of… diagram? (It’ll make sense later, Kirishima hopes. And if it doesn’t, there’s always his equally draconic tutor-slash-best-friend he can poke into helping him eventually.)

After a semester at U.A., everyone in 1-A is whipped enough that not a single word is breathed between them for a good fifteen minutes. Aizawa talks, they take notes.

Then the adrenaline wears off and Kirishima finds himself drifting once more, fingers automatically flicking the home button. There, over Crimson Riot’s confident grin, three new messages.

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

pay attention (received 19:14)

ffs (received 19:14)

hope aizawa murdered your ass (received 19:16)

No surprises there. Well, the fact that Bakugou has deigned to reply just before a training exercise kind of is, and he even triple-texted which makes a sappy part of Kirishima’s brain think he must’ve rubbed off on him over the past months. The day Bakugou Katsuki discovers emojis can’t be far off now and it will be Kirishima’s greatest achievement to date.

He bites his lip to suppress an amused noise at that. Ignoring the incredulous stare from Kaminari to his right, Kirishima types.

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

haha! i lived bitch (sent 19:32)

minus the bitch askdjfhsk sry (sent 19:32)

i’m just tired af lol (sent 19:32)

how’s things on ur end tho? (sent 19:34)

no asses left unkicked i’m sure (sent 19:34)

👊🏻💥💥 (sent 19:35)

Kirishima gets about a solid second to feel good about furthering his pro-emoji agenda before his phone is snatched away by rigid, white cloth. Wide-eyed, his gaze is met by a flat expression that exudes more exhaustion than any human should rightfully have to feel.

“Kirishima”, Aizawa says, as calm as ever. “How kind of you to lend me your attention.”

Lord have mercy. Whichever hell Aizawa is about to unleash on him, Kirishima will be in it for a while. And when that’s over, it’ll be Bakugou’s turn to have a field day with it.

Somehow, Kirishima is actually looking forward to that last part.

*

Then, a voice rings out in their heads. Aizawa jumps into motion. The villains strike.

Afterwards, all Kirishima can do is stand there and watch the forest burn. His phone is silent, held between fingers that won’t stop trembling no matter what he does. He unlocks, checks, locks, only to do it all over again a few minutes or seconds later.

Around him, everything is spinning out of control. Reality is too loud, too bright, already overwhelming where it waits to be acknowledged beyond the soothing green interface of his chat with Bakugou.

The messages are still there. Marked read until they aren’t, and Kirishima stares at that subtle difference like it’s the last thing tethering him to the ground. Blue tick, his best friend is fine. Grey tick–

Bakugou let Kirishima take a photo of him, once. Kirishima had complained about his profile picture being that creepy default silhouette, especially once they started texting on a daily basis. So Bakugou sighed and leaned over the tiny table of the café, his chin propped on one hand and his coffee in the other. He’d kept still just long enough for the shutter to go off and called him a clingy bastard right after.

In the soft morning light, there’d been something warm in his typical glare. It’s still there, tucked away in the top left corner of the screen. Fond, red eyes, looking straight at Kirishima ever since.

Higher and higher, the flames reach for the sky with greedy, cobalt fingers, bright enough to take the stars with them. And Bakugou?

Bakugou is gone.

*

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

hey (sent 23:01)

it’s a long shot but (sent 23:03)

are u there? (sent 23:03)

these are going thru so ur phone is on and i thought (sent 23:08)

idk (sent 23:08)

please respond man (sent 23:37)

please (sent 23:58)

katsuki? (sent 00:40)

*

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥)

fuck (sent 3:24)

*

Bakugou Katsuki

um (sent 6:13)

the pros asked for ur number to track it and stuff so i gave it to them (sent 6:13)

turns out almost nobody has it?? so like (sent 6:20)

if u want a new one after all this it’s on me (sent 6:21)

pls don’t be mad haha (sent 6:21)

fuck that actually (sent 7:05)

be as mad as u want baku (sent 7:06)

u can do whatever ok? when u come back (sent 7:09)

free pass. i won’t guard this time (sent 7:09)

just come back (sent 8:00)

they’re looking for u so u gotta come back (sent 8:02)

* 

Baku 💣💥

sry i just (sent 19:55)

ok still going thru (sent 19:55)

that’s good right? (sent 19:57)

i need it to be good (sent 20:05)

yeah (sent 20:06)

*

Baku 💣💥

it’s saturday (sent 2:33)

please be ok (sent 4:46)

i miss u (sent 5:00)

*

Baku 💣💥

we’re on our way katsuki (sent 12:45)

just hold on we’re coming for u (sending…)

wait (sending…)

oh (sending…)

*

Bakugou is quiet.

When all is said and done, injuries patched up and police statements given, Kirishima waits and Bakugou looks… tired. Small. Glancing back at the precinct with eyes a little too wide, a little too hesitant to truly belong to him.

Whatever he’s searching, if he finds it or not – Kirishima can only guess as Bakugou’s shoulders slump further and he mutters, “Let’s just go.”

In retrospect, he was probably talking to his parents. The Bakugous came for their son in a car as expensive as they come, white with chrome highlights and an interior clad entirely in tasteful, beige leather; it’s an aesthetic that’s the antithesis to Katsuki’s. Their expressions are full of love, though, brows drawn in concern carefully left unspoken. His father opens the back door for him first, going for his own in the front, while his mother ruffles Bakugou’s hair within the one-second-window he allows for the touch before shrugging it off.

“Welcome back, brat. We missed ya.”

Familiar phrases laden with far too much weight. From the outside in, it’s just that: Mildly exasperated parents picking up their kid after some school thing that dragged on into the night, or perhaps a late hangout with a friend. No one acknowledges the nightmare-ish three days they’ve left behind by the merit of time passing and the world spinning on and nothing else – the countless people injured or dead, an entire district torn asunder in a conflict much bigger than any of them, especially Bakugou.

Bakugou, who shuffles onto the backseat without saying much of anything. It’s only after Kirishima trails after him and Bakugou’s eyes meet his own over his shoulder that Kirishima realizes that’s what he’s doing.

Then Bakugou’s gaze softens and he kicks the door of the car open wider. “Um”, Kirishima pipes up, the noise of keys clinking together drawing his attention to one Bakugou Mitsuki. “Is it okay if I…?”

She snorts and ruffles his hair, too. “Kid, after what you did tonight, a ride home is the least I can do for ya. C’mon.”

Kirishima bows politely, a mumble of “Thanks, ma’am” waved away immediately. A moment later, Kirishima’s hand is being grabbed and he’s dragged inside. “Get a move on”, Bakugou mumbles, staring pointedly until Kirishima rights himself and digs for the seatbelt with his free hand. The click of the clasp snapping in is oddly loud in the ensuing silence.

It doesn’t last. The moment the engine purrs to life and the lights go off, a heavy guitar riff screeches from cleverly hidden speakers in perfect surround sound and Kirishima jumps. He’s the only one in the car to do so.

“Whoops, my bad”, says Bakugou’s mom as she turns the music down the slightest amount, her smirk – so familiar and yet not – clearly visible in the rear-view mirror. Next to her, Bakugou’s dad chuckles and shakes his head.

Bakugou himself is turned towards the window, the hand against his chin barely hiding the tiny smirk there. Kirishima lets him have it. Anything that’ll replace that lost expression from earlier is good in his books.

“So. Eijirou, right? Nice to finally meet ya.” Mrs. Bakugou checks in with him via the mirror. Her hand rests on the gear selector. “Where to? We’ll bring you home first. I’m sure your parents are worried.”

And oh fuck, Kirishima hasn’t even thought that far ahead yet. When he snuck out of the house a lifetime ago, all his mind was able to process was getting to Bakugou, saving Bakugou, bringing Bakugou back. As much as both his mothers are angels in their own right, they’re also easily worried and twice as buff as him. There haven��t been many occasions which called for them to throw down for their son but they totally would if given half the chance.

If they catch wind of even a fraction of what Kirishima got up to tonight, someone will have to pay. Kirishima’s willing to bet his most prized, limited-edition Crimson Riot figurine that that someone will end up being all of U.A., nationally famous pro heroes or not.

Before any of that can make it out of his mouth, Kirishima’s hand is squeezed and… Oh. Bakugou’s still holding it. Their skin isn’t touching; Kirishima’s sleeve has been pulled down to prevent that.

(It’s one of those things Bakugou does, tracking who and what gets in direct contact with his sweat and how to neutralize it in time. It makes Kirishima’s chest ache that, despite everything that happened, he is still aware of small things like that.)

“He’s crashing at ours tonight”, Bakugou tells his parents rather gruffly. Still looking out the window like there’s nothing unusual about that at all, and Kirishima gapes at him in complete and utter surprise. Bakugou’s grip only tightens.

“Got a problem with that?”

Just like that, Kirishima finds himself able to process speech. “Nope! Not at all. Uh, that is– Mrs. Bakugou, Mr. Bakugou, can I?”

Bakugou’s parents look similarly caught off-guard. To their credit, they merely blink and look at each other, shrugging. Again, it’s the mother who speaks. “That’s Mitsuki and Masaru to you, kid. Let’s go home, then.”

And that’s that. They set off, the car’s movement a quiet thrum that’s drowned out by complicated drum solos and vocals barely scraping past outright growling. Any other day, Kirishima would’ve been ecstatic to finally get to meet the Bakugous. He’d hoard bits and pieces of knowledge about them – such as the fact that Katsuki’s taste in music runs in the family, what the hell – like a dragon does gold coins. The notion that Bakugou invited him to their first sleep-over ever would be the biggest treasure on that pile, for sure.

Because Bakugou Katsuki is anything if not cautious: with his quirk, with his time, with his trust. Because, after days of pacing his room and worrying himself sick and crying until exhaustion took him out, their plan worked.

They pulled it off, Bakugou is back and alive, and Kirishima’s allowed to stay by his side a little bit longer.

He’s here because Bakugou wants him to be and that… feels better than Kirishima can properly put into words. So, no, he doesn’t boast about it, he doesn’t have the energy to – but Kirishima notes and appreciates it nonetheless, relief forming a ball of warmth and light that radiates within him like a tiny sun got stuck between his lungs and his heart. Bit by bit, it melts the tension off Kirishima’s bones until all he can grasp is the steady presence of Bakugou’s hand in his and how heavy his eyelids feel.

Kirishima could sleep for a week straight and still crave a nap afterwards. Probably.

There’s something he has to do before he crashes, though. With a gentle squeeze, he frees his hand to grab his phone and winces at the dozens of unread messages and missed calls that greet him. Both the group he has with his family as well as the one for 1-A have been running hot most of the night, reducing his battery to a pitiful 12%.

Opening up the chat with his moms, Kirishima scrolls to the bottom of the increasingly worried barrage of texts and hesitates, his fingers hovering over the keypad. Once he starts typing, he’ll have about a minute before shit really hits the fan.

💪🏻Kirishima Power 💪🏻

guys i’m so sorry!!! (sent 21:58)

i know ur worried and stuff and i swear i’ll explain later ok?? (sent 21:58)

 just wanna let u know i’m safe!! staying over at baku’s tonight (sent 21:58)

he’s here and safe too (sent 21:58)

🙏🏻🙏🏻 (sent 21:59)

He pauses then, reading that last part over and over again. Safe. Safe, safe, safe. A smile cracks Kirishima’s lips apart and it remains there, steadfast through the flood of new messages rolling in.

*

Bakugou’s room is both everything Kirishima expected it to be and at the same time… not.

It’s huge, for one, the typical bed-wardrobe-desk setup expanded by a couch and a beanbag, a TV with a variety of game systems hooked up to it, a handful of shelves filled to the brim with books and manga and oh, a whole freaking drum set taking up a corner by itself. The walls are plastered with band posters and signed set lists and – less blatant but still there – the odd All Might merch Kirishima knows Bakugou would strangle him for mentioning, so he doesn’t.

What comes out of his mouth is: “Dude! I didn’t know you played drums. That’s so cool!”

Everything is kept in the triad of black-orange-green Kirishima recognizes from a certain hero costume. A few discarded shirts aside, it’s really tidy. So much so that Kirishima feels ashamed of the state of his own room just by seeing this.

The feeling is compounded by Bakugou picking up those shirts and throwing them in the hamper first thing, a quiet tch indicating he’s annoyed by it. Kirishima isn’t up to outing himself as an unrepentant walking mess in comparison – instead, he makes a beeline for the bookshelf with the manga, eyes drawn to a row of covers he’d recognize in a heartbeat.

“Wha– I’ve been looking for these for ages! They’re sold out every time I try to catch up on ‘em.”

A short glance at Bakugou is answered with a shrug and an eye-roll: It’s Bakugou-speak for do whatever the hell you want. Kirishima pulls out the volume he stopped at and leafs through it.

It’s meant as a distraction for Bakugou, a space for him to drop the put-together façade and breathe without people constantly fussing over him. It’s honestly what Kirishima would rather be doing right now (exploring his best bro’s room be damned) but it’s not what Bakugou needs. Well, what Kirishima thinks he needs.

It’s hard to get a read on him without the constant snark and pointed glares. With some dinner in their bellies and Bakugou’s parents now safely downstairs, the expression that fits nowhere on the Angry Bakugou Face catalogue is back. Kind of uncomfortable and so… absent.

Kirishima is really starting to hate that expression.

It’s entirely accidental that Kirishima actually gets into reading. One chapter turns to three, turns to five, and the troubles and worries whirling ever-tighter in his chest ease for a bit until–

Woosh. A soft, balled-up something knocks against the back of his head. Kirishima startles and almost drops the manga, a vaguely alarmed noise stopped short by the sight of Bakugou in sweats and a well-worn, black shirt. His hair is wet. Wild as ever. At Kirishima’s feet: A similar outfit including a towel.

“Bathroom’s that way. Leave your clothes out by the door, I got special detergent for the nitro. Shampoo and shit’s in the shower, there’s a toothbrush for you by the sink. Use it.”

Kirishima opens his mouth.

Bakugou sighs. “It’s just a fucking toothbrush, Kiri. Wreck it for all I care.”

Kirishima closes his mouth. He nods. His phone is quickly dug out of his pocket and set aside, then he slips out to shower.

A good fifteen minutes later, he opens the door to let out a gust of steam and sees his clothes are gone. The hallway is empty, half-lit by the light coming from downstairs. The Bakugous have been as nonchalant about their spontaneous guest as Bakugou himself; even so, Kirishima tries not to linger or make too much noise as he sneaks back to Bakugou’s room.

“Baku. I’m back.”

Bakugou gives him a grunt of acknowledgement from where he’s fitting some sheets over the couch, folded out to provide a decently sized bed. There’s a pillow and a pile of blankets next to him, wrapped in fresh linen as well. It’s unlikely he’s stopped doing stuff since Kirishima left and if he is about ready to crash in five to ten minutes, he can’t imagine how Bakugou is doing right now.

Y’know, the guy who just survived being kidnapped by Japan’s newest and most notorious villain menace. No amount of pretense can make that simple fact undone.

Kirishima pads over to help, the offer to take over already on his lips but– Too late. The last corner is already being tucked in and laid flat with grim-faced efficiency. Left with nothing else to do, Kirishima sits down on the very edge, eyes downcast and fingers fiddling with the hem of his borrowed shirt. There’s some sort of band logo on it, an English word written in that typical death-metal-font that looks like someone dumped a bunch of white sticks in a pile and called it a day.

It’s soft. A little loose and frayed around the edges.

“Hey, Baku?”

Taking the blankets, Bakugou dumps them in Kirishima’s lap. “Mh?” He makes to step away and Kirishima doesn’t think, just reaches out and catches the back of his shirt.

“Dude, seriously. Just… sit down for a minute. Please?”

And Bakugou… listens. He stops, he frowns at Kirishima for a moment like he’s trying to figure out what his deal is, he sighs like he’s been presented with the world’s most aggravating puzzle – and then he tells Kirishima to scooch. “What? I’m not gonna sit on the fucking floor”, he says.

Kirishima can’t keep the relief off his face as he gladly makes room on the couch, leaning against its arm and tucking his legs in. Once Bakugou has settled, cross-legged with an elbow propped on the backrest, Kirishima throws the blanket over both of ‘em. Might as well get comfortable while they still can.

“Okay.” He steels himself with a long, slow breath. “I know you hate this kinda thing and we’re both tired and… stuff. Still, though: Are you okay?”

Bakugou gives him a look, which– Okay, fair. It’s a dumb question with an obvious answer. Kirishima doesn’t back down, though, humming to buy himself some time to rephrase.

“Like… It’s fine if you’re not. Okay, I mean. And if you’d rather go the fuck to bed and not think about this for a while that’s fine, too. But that was pretty rough and you’ve been, um, quiet. And stuff. So, I’m kinda worried. Y’know?”

Kirishima pauses. A bit lower, he mumbles: “And I missed you. So yeah.”

At some point, he dropped his gaze to his hands, limp and useless in his lap. Kirishima swore not to be a coward anymore but it’s hard, to speak and ask about things in full awareness he has no fucking clue what he’s doing.

All he wants is for Bakugou to be okay. That’s all that matters, at the end of a day like this.

“I’m not”, Bakugou says, tentatively. Like he’s making up his mind as he goes. “I’m not gonna waste your time with ‘I’m fine’. I’m not. This shit’s fucked up.” And again he sighs, sounding so fucking tired Kirishima’s heart squeezes in sympathy.

“I haven’t slept in three fucking days; my shoulders are killing me from using my quirk and sitting chained to that stupid chair and whatever the fuck else. The League scouted me specifically because they thought I’d make a good villain and fuck them for that. Fuck them. But it’s just… It’s whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

Whatever Kirishima expected, it’s not that. He looks up and into Bakugou’s eyes and–

He can’t mean that, can he? Kirishima searches his face for evidence to the contrary, traces the tension around Bakugou’s mouth and the exhaustion smudged under his eyes and the line between his brows, growing deeper under Kirishima’s scrutiny. It all reads defeat. It hurts.

They won, right? A childish voice within Kirishima can’t help but cling to that even as he looks back down. They won, and things are supposed to get better when you win.

“People got hurt. People died, Kiri. Heroes, too.” Bakugou takes a shaky breath, a hand going to his hair and rubbing it roughly. “Fucking… Best Jeanist was there and nobody at the precinct wanted to tell me if he’s alive or dead or what. All of Kamino Ward is fucking gone and All Might–”

Bakugou’s voice cracks right down the middle and it hurts. Like there’s a beast tearing through Kirishima’s chest to rip out his heart and throw it to the floor, stubbornly beating as it bleeds out.

Kirishima wants to say something. Anything. All he can hear is Bakugou’s breathing but it’s all wrong, off-rhythm and thread-bare and upset, and any doubt what that means is erased as Bakugou’s hand clenches on the sheets and he sniffs, wet on the exhale.

“Baku–”

“Don’t. Kiri, don’t–”

He’s always been like that, ordering him around and demanding things when politeness dictates to ask for them instead. His tone is as close to pleading as Kirishima’s ever heard from Bakugou, though, and it twists him up inside to the point he feels distantly nauseous.

“Don’t look.” Bakugou isn’t supposed to sound like that. Not now, not ever. “Okay? Don’t f-fucking– Don’t look at me right now.”

“Okay”, Kirishima says. “I won’t.” His own voice is a mess as well, trembling all over the place. “I won’t, Nitro. I won’t.”

You’re safe, is what he wants to tell him. It’s okay, you’re safe now. That’s not what Bakugou is asking of him. Kirishima can’t stop himself from crying because it’s always been hard not to when the people he loves are doing it, but… He tries. For Bakugou, he’ll always try.

Through eyes heavily clouded by tears, he sees Bakugou’s hand tighten, knuckles going white and bloodless. Painfully tense, and Kirishima can’t stand the sight of that, either.

He shuffles a little closer to place his hand over that fist, careful to only touch the back of Bakugou’s hand. Kirishima whispers, “I’m here”, and Bakugou audibly swallows. He lets him slip his fingers in-between his own.

Holding on, just as he did in the car and when they met in mid-air, that desperate instance that decided whether he would make it out alive or not.

Bakugou holds on even as he breaks for good and his shoulders shake with his sobs. As he continues to breathe in gulps of air that sound strangled and desperate, through tears that leave a pattern of uneven dots on the blanket. By morning they will be gone without a trace: The sun will come up, the world will continue to travel around it, and time will reveal the road they walk on as they walk it, step by step by step.

Just because it’s meant to pass doesn’t make this moment any less real. Any less important. Kirishima sits there and listens to his best friend cry. He remembers days spent without him and the mad dash to save him. He thinks of dumb questions and obvious answers.

It’s hard to tell if this is one of them, so he gathers all his courage and asks: “Katsuki. Can I hug you?”

Just like last time, Bakugou doesn’t say anything. He laughs, a watery, humorless thing – and he pulls at Kirishima’s shirt to crush him to his chest. His arms wind around Kirishima’s neck, Bakugou’s face pressing against his hair where Kirishima won’t be able to see him.

It’s fine. Kirishima’s great at hugs; he can totally work with that. Clenching his eyes shut, he adjusts his grip around Bakugou’s waist so he can rub his back, following the bumps of his spine. Up and down, over and over. Bakugou goes boneless in their embrace, not about to let go anytime soon and neither will Kirishima.

Eventually, Kirishima tucks his head against Bakugou’s shoulder, blinking sleep from his eyes. Safe. He doesn’t fight the sharp-toothed smile on his lips. Bakugou mumbles, “Fucking sap”, nearly drowned out by their collective sniffling.

It sounds a whole lot like thank you. Kirishima’s smile only grows.

>>Chapter 5

[hhunjins]

Pairing: Felix x gender neutral reader

Genre: romance, fluff

Word Count: ~3,600

Warnings: none

Notes: I don’t know what it is about Felix but whenever I look at him, I get summer teen movie vibes and it makes me want to scream. Also I call Chan ‘Chris’ in this for reasons lmao

Summary: Two chaotic best friends, a questionable car, and the entire world to explore.

Everything about this impromptu trip was going wrong, yet you can’t help but laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

Felix has a streak of grease on his cheek from trying to fix whatever went wrong with his old car and you’re seated on the side of the road on a picnic blanket sipping an apple juice box as you wait. This wasn’t the first thing to blow up in your face since you started this trip five hours ago.

Thirty minutes in your trip, Felix realized he left his camera at home and so he U-turned and sped a little to make up for lost time. Three hours later after waking up from a nap, you get a sinking feeling in your stomach that maybe you didn’t lock the door to your apartment. It’s remedied by simply texting your neighbor to check for you, but it did put a damper on your mood for a while.

And now, the car has broken down and the two of you are stranded in the middle of nowhere with very bad cell signal. No one has driven by in the last thirty minutes. Under the summer sun, you and Felix pushed the car to the side of the road and glared at it until you sighed and dug through the trunk for a juice box.

“Do you know how to fix it?” you asked.

He shrugged, running his fingers through his hair and pulling at the roots. “We’ll see.”

It’s been edging towards an hour now so you call Felix over and pat the empty space beside you. He scoots over on his butt and knocks every limb against yours in an attempt to get comfortable. You know he’s being obnoxious so you elbow him back.

“This is a mess,” he says.

You shrug, dropping your head onto his shoulder and sucking air from the juice box. “At least we’re hanging out together.”

Felix lets out a laugh, rubbing his fingers against the smear on his cheek in an attempt to wipe it away. “Yeah. I have you.”

You hide a smile, tingles appearing underneath your skin as Felix leans his head on top of yours. You stare at the broken down car, thinking that even if everything went wrong, at least it was with Felix.

You’re two hours behind schedule when Felix gets the car going again and you make a stop to grab some food. It slips both your minds to call the hotel and tell them that you’ll be late for the room reservations so by the time you get there the rooms are gone. You’re back in the car now, sitting under a flickering streetlight, feeling a little defeated at it all.

“This was a terrible idea,” Felix mutters. He rolls down his window, huffing at how much energy it takes for him to do so. It has a manual crank. His car is that old. The evening air is a lot better than the stifling summer heat, so you roll down the window on your side too. You leave your arm hanging out of the car, fingers twitching as if trying to grab onto the breezes that slip through.

“The trip was not a terrible idea,” you correct. You tilt your head and give your best friend a soft smile. “It was a terrible start. But it’ll get better. We have two weeks left on this.”

Felix groans. “Two weeks left for things to go wrong, you mean?”

You wet your lips. “Felix.”

“What,” he pouts.

“How far are we from the beach?”

“Like a thirty minute drive?”

You pull in your arm and turn your body in the seat to face him fully. “Do you think we can make it there to see the sunset?”

Felix blinks at you, eye wide, before the sparkle in them returns and an absolutely blinding smile blooms on his lips and lights up his entire face. “We can try.”

You barely make it in time. After Felix snaps a ton of photos with his camera, you sit on the hood of his car, head on his steady shoulder, his arm around yours, as you watch the sun descend in the horizon, another warped sun reflected on the ocean waves that seem to stretch onto forever and beyond. Felix’s fingers are drumming on your arm, slightly sticky from the heat and sweat, but you don’t really mind.

There isn’t much to say, so you sit in silence. A lot has happened in the past day and it would be a lie to say that you weren’t worried for how the rest of this trip was going to go. But you don’t voice those thoughts. Felix already has enough on his mind and you don’t need to make him feel any worse for suggesting this trip.

You’re so caught up in the beauty of it all that it takes Felix’s arm slipping from your shoulder to realize that he’s fallen asleep. You turn your head slightly, just enough to see him out of the corner of your eye and not wake him up. His eyelashes lay prettily against his golden skin, dotted with the stars. That feeling hits you again, the one that makes your heart ache a little. You know what it is, but you can’t act on it.

“Felix,” you whisper.

His nose twitches first and then his eyes flutter open. “Sorry,” he says. His voice is rough with sleep and it makes you shiver.

“I’ll drive,” you say. “We have to find somewhere to stay.”

He doesn’t argue, digging through the pockets of his shorts to pull out the keys and hand them over. “Okay. I’ll navigate.”

Somehow, Navigator Felix does worse than Driver Felix, and you take a break by finding a drive thru to grab dinner.

“Get me a milkshake,” Felix whines. He shakes your shoulder in that petulant childish way.

“Bro, you’re lactose,” you say, batting his hands away.

“Your point is?”

You roll your eyes and inch forward in the line to stop at the speaker. “Hi, can I get two number fours, a large fries, and a medium soda please?”

“My milkshake, y/n!”

“And a chocolate milkshake. Thank you!” You’re not sure what your hand hits when you swing your arm back blindly to push him away, but Felix lets out a garbled sound and finally settles down. The satisfied noise that he makes when you hand him the bag of food and tray with the drinks makes you smile. “Feed me,” you say.

Felix holds a fry to your lips. “If I am not mistaken, there’s a motel five minutes down this road.”

You hum. “Another,” you say, opening your mouth and waiting for Felix to pop another fry in. “I’m going to shower, eat this burger, and knock out.”

“Are we sleeping in tomorrow?” he asks. Felix has already unwrapped his burger and started munching his way through it. “Please charge your phone and leave the ringer on so you can wake up when I call you. I don’t want to pound at your door and have people look at me weird in the hallway.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll figure it out then. Ahh.”

Felix gives you two fries this time. “I don’t think waking you up is something to figure out tomorrow,” Felix says.

You shrug. “I’m just trying to get through this day by day. We’ll be fine.”

You are not fine.

“We only have one room left, I’m sorry,” the receptionist says. He grimaces. “It’s summer, so we get a lot of guests during this time,” he explains. “Would you like to book it anyway?”

Part of you wants to facepalm because of course other people would also be on a trip like you. What were you expecting during peak travel weather? You turn to look at Felix and he blinks back at you slowly. He looks tired and is probably drifting into a food coma as he’s standing right next to you. In other words, he’s no help.

“We’ll take it,” you say. “Available for two nights and two days, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“Felix, go sit down.” You nudge him on the side, nearly sending him stumbling into a fake potted plant. He grabs his bags and your suitcase and drags them to a nearby sofa to crash on. You watch him go before turning back and dealing with payment.

Soon, you’re climbing up to the second floor of the motel. Felix has woken up slightly now, probably slowly feeling the effects of that milkshake. You’re going to kill him if you don’t get to shower first.

“Felix Lee, I am showering first and you cannot stop me,” you say as you unlock the door to the room and flick on the light.

Your jaw slowly drops.

“Lemme in,” Felix grumbles. He squeezes between you and the door and plops down at the edge of the bed. “Close the door so we can turn on the AC,” he whines.

You blink. “That dude just– He– Huh?”

Felix lifts his head up slightly. “What’s wrong?”  

“There’s only one bed?”

He blinks before his lips form a small “o” and his eyes widen as recognition sinks in. “That is a problem.” Felix rolls onto his stomach and stretches like a cat. “Another problem is that you need to shower now.”

You huff, dragging all the luggage into the room and then shutting the door behind you. “Give me fifteen minutes,” you say.

“Not a second longer.”

You can’t sleep. Maybe it’s the AC running a little too loud, or the weird shadows that slip through the blinds in the window, or whatever the people in the room above you are doing. You turn on your side one more time, letting out a long breath through your nose as you blink tiredly. You don’t know what time it is, but it’s pretty late.

Felix fell asleep a while ago, snoring quietly from where he set out a makeshift bed on the floor. He’s silent now but he lets out little steady puffs that let you know he’s still dreaming.

This position on your side is uncomfortable, so you turn onto your back again. The bed is too soft and your sweater pillow a little too lumpy. After winning a round of rock, paper, scissors, you gave Felix the two pillows to make up for the fact he was sleeping on the floor and squished a sweater into a ball for yourself. He had protested at first but you gave him your meanest glare and Felix just ruffled your hair and didn’t put up a fight.

The ceiling becomes boring to look at, so you turn the other way.

Felix rustles, turning in his sleep as well.

You freeze, waiting for the sound of his steady breath to return. But it doesn’t.

“Y/n.” Felix’s voice is rough with sleep. He kind of sounds like a demon but a cute one, if that makes any sense. You’re tired but the thought amuses you.

“Yeah?”

“You keep moving.”

“Sorry.”

“Are you okay?”

You chew on your lower lip, holding back your words long enough for Felix to sit up from the floor. His hair is a bird’s nest and he blinks sleepily at you, clutching a pillow to his chest.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Can’t sleep,” you say. You count the beats in your chest. One. Two. Three. “Come up.”

Felix takes roughly five seconds to move from the floor onto the bed, scooting you over by poking your side until you move. He replaces your sweater pillow with a real pillow, and then squishes you against the wall when he lies down beside you. “Okay, sleep now.”

You let out a small laugh. “It’s not that easy.”

“Huh.” Felix lifts your head with a hand and slips his other arm under. When he lets go, your head rests on his shoulder, his other arm draped over your middle. “Okay, how about now?”

It’s summer, and normally you would hate being this close to someone else when the heat in the air is enough to make everything feel icky. But this is Felix. And instead of making your skin feel sticky and gross, he sends your mind into overdrive and your heart racing even faster than that.

Felix taps your back with his fingers. “Sleep,” he says. “We have to explore tomorrow. No naps.”

You tuck your head under his chin. In this position, your forehead is rested against his chest. You wonder if you listened a little harder, if you would be able to hear the sound of his heart beating in his chest. You wonder if it’s pounding as fast as yours.

Listening to the sound of Felix’s soft breaths, and feeling his chest rise and fall against your skin, you drift into sleep, dreaming of nothing but you and Felix and the entire world at your fingertips.

You spend the entirety of the next day at the beach. Felix spends half of it in the ocean, terrorizing you with the water he manages to cup in his tiny hands, and the other half ordering to either pose or get out of his way as he takes pictures.

This time, when the sun begins to set, you two stretch out in the sand, leaning into each other’s personal space as Felix shows off his favorite captures.

“Why won’t you let me take pictures of you?” you ask.

Felix shrugs, clicking through his camera and then leaning over to show you another picture. His shoulders are pink, showing signs of a mild sunburn he’ll probably whine to you about later. His hair is still damp from where he you pushed him into the water earlier, blond locks sticking to his forehead in little clumps.

“Y/n.”

“Huh?”

“You’re staring.” Felix wiggles his eyebrows. “Can you tell I’ve been working out with Chris?” He leaves his camera on his lap to do some weird flexing thing with his arm.

“No?” you say.

Felix clicks his tongue. “Rude.” He sticks out his tongue as he picks up his camera again. “Look at this one I got. If you post it on Instagram, I better get tagged as the best photographer ever.”

You smile. “Okay.”

Felix grins. “I wanna get some pictures of the sunset, and then we can go get dinner.” He dusts sand off his beach shorts, taking care to not let any fly in your direction, and then bounces off.

There’s a warm feeling that starts from your toes and creeps upwards until it reaches the tips of your ears. As much as you want to blame it on the sand and the heat of the sun, you know there’s no point in trying. Even with something as amazing as a star slipping from the sky, you can’t take your eyes off Felix.

“Why is it so hard for you to sleep?” Felix asks after you turn for the nth time in bed that night. You freeze when his arms wrap around your middle and pull until your back is pressed flush against his chest. “You’re driving in the morning.”

“Thinking a lot,” you murmur.

“You think too much.” Felix nuzzles his nose against the back of your neck. “What are you thinking about?”

A beat of silence. Felix’s arms tighten ever the slightest around your waist. “What’s going to happen after this trip is over,” you say.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we just graduated. In a few months, I’ll be moving back home and we’ll both be moving on with our lives. We’re out in the real world now.”

“But why are you thinking about that now?”

You’re not sure. Is it because the person you’ve had by your side for the last four years of your life is literally spooning you and making you question how platonic this was all supposed to be? Is it because you’re afraid you’re looking too deep into all of this and Felix will go back to being untouchable when this trip is all over? Is it because you don’t want to leave it all behind when you fly thousands of miles away to go back home? Or all of the above?

“Talk to me, y/n.” His fingers are drumming against your hip. Index, middle, ring, and back again.

“Because I’m scared.”

“Of?”

You suppress a shudder when Felix’s lips brush against the shell of your ear when he speaks. You count the number of taps, waiting until ten before you turn around. Felix’s hand slides off your hip and he meets your eyes when you settle. He gives you an encouraging nod, eyes soft around the corners and nose scrunched up just enough that the little freckle on his nostril is visible in the light seeping through the window. Your gaze lingers on his lips, tracing his Cupid’s bow and how his lips curve into a slight smile. “Losing everything I have here…Losing you.”

The way Felix’s eyes turn into little half-moons when he smiles is enchanting.

“When you sat and watched the sunset today, were you afraid you were never going to see it again?”

You shake your head.

“Right? Because it’ll come back again every day. So even if you’re stuck in the darkness for a short time, the sun will always rise again. And you’ll start a new day, with new opportunities.” Felix’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, eyes flickering to yours before moving back to hold eye contact. “When you move away, it’s going to be hard. I understand why you’re scared. But the sun will rise and you’ll be okay.” He finds your hand and laces his fingers in between yours. “We’ll both be okay.” A squeeze.

“We?”

Felix only smiles. He releases his grip on your hand and pulls you until your forehead is rested against his chest like last night. “Sleep,” he says.

So you do.

“How was your trip?”

“You would think after the first day at the beach that Felix would remember to put on sunscreen, but the dude got sunburned like every other day,” you say. You ignore the indignant squawk he makes and continue to sip on your soda. “The car broke down the first day. We missed our first hotel booking and got stuck in a lowkey sketchy motel with only one bed. I won rock, paper, scissors and I got the bed, so it wasn’t too bad,” you say, raising another finger with every recollection. “And then Felix decided it would be a great idea to get ice cream for the road and save it for later.”

Chris frowns. “Aren’t you lactose?” he asks Felix.

You slap a hand onto the table. “Exactly,” you hiss. “And he didn’t think that it would melt so we had sticky fingers until I found a gas station to stop by. And then the car broke down again.”

“Okay, you can stop exposing me now,” Felix whines.

“I wanna see pictures. Felix was hyping them up so much on the group chat,” Hyunjin says. Seungmin perks up from his phone when Felix takes out his camera. He leaves the two of them to click through the photos themselves.

“You didn’t answer my question about how the trip was though. Good? Bad? Rating out of ten please. I need to know in case he decides to spring a random trip on me,” Chris says.

“Yeah, like I would ask you on a trip with me,” Felix says with a roll of his eyes.

You bite down on the straw as you think. Felix is now giving you puppy dog eyes so you purposely don’t look at him. “Uhh, if we were to ignore all the things we couldn’t control, ten out of ten.”

Felix raises both hands into the air in victory. “This is why you’re the best, y/n!” He wiggles around like those inflatable floppy men in front of car dealerships. Seungmin has to whack his arm to get him to stop.

Chris scoffs. “He bribed you, didn’t he?”

You shake your head. “No, it was a good trip. I enjoyed it. Ten out of ten would go again.”

“Are you saying that because he’s Felix or because the trip was really good? Because I think if any one of us took you on a trip where the car broke down multiple times, you’d give us a big zero.” Hyunjin asks. He turns the camera to you and raises an eyebrow. “I hope you have a good explanation for this picture.”

“Wait, I wanna see,” Chris scoots his chair over to peer into the camera. “Oh, man, you two are gross.”

“Give my camera back,” Felix says. He wiggles an arm into the shield his friends made around his camera, but Chris swats him out of the way.

“You didn’t think to delete those pictures before you brought the camera here?” you ask. You feel the heat in your cheeks but there’s also a smile you can’t hide.

“It’s not like we didn’t know something was going to happen on the trip. Felix and y/n alone for two weeks?” Hyunjin fans himself with a hand and pulls a weird face. Seungmin smacks him. “This is not a PG distance!” Hyunjin says.

Felix leans backwards until his head is rested on your shoulder and he’s staring at you upside down. His eyes are glittering as they blink innocently at you. “Since you said, ‘ten out of ten would go again’ this means you have to take me to see the sunset in your favorite places when you go home.” He grins. “Road trip part two?”

[wesimpforxiao]

My Backstory (IRL)

Before I begin, if you want nothing to do with hearing about abusive relationships, possible eating disorder, anxiety disorders/depression/suicide, sexual assualt, manipulation, gaslighting, sexual harassment, etc, SKIP THIS POST.

So, I would like to start off by saying the NSFW content I *try* to write always falls stale, 1. being because I get embarrassed or ashamed by my writing my own thoughts, and 2. because of the rest of this post.  So the Albedo NSFW may not happen, but I asked just in case (i have some of it written out, but it is very stale).  And also because I may or may not have accidentally triggered a trauma response as I was writing the Albedo post (oops...)

To begin, freshman year of high school, 14 yrs old, (I’m 20 and in college now), I started dating this guy that was in my grade.  I have an anxiety disorder, so when we started going out, I immediately stopped eating because I constantly felt sick to my stomach.  It wasn’t because I thought I was fat or anything, I just felt sick.  Think butterflies in your stomach times 10 and ALL the time.  We dated for a month before he broke up with me.  During that time, he had suddenly brought up the idea of me sending nude or bra/undie pics to him.  Him and his friend (who was in the call with us) tag-teamed and said that it was normal and asked when I would be ready to send pictures.  Both of them asked that.  Red flag number one.  I said 3 months just to please them, not that I was actually going to do it.

Once he broke up with me, I was DEVASTATED. I feel A LOT, and it was my first ‘relationship.’ Exactly a month later, he texted me, saying he wanted to be friends.  I said okay.  He never acknowledged my presence at school, often avoiding my eyes.  Sometime into that he had asked me what I would do if he had asked me out again, and when I said I’d say yes, he immediately texted back and said “i am so sorry, my friend [insert name] was texting you on my phone and I didn’t know until now.”  Red flag number two.

Then, after we had stopped being friends, a month passes.  He texts me again, this time saying “It’s been 3 months.”  Yeah.  Did you read the part where I said I’d consider sending pictures at 3 months? That only applied if we were dating for that long (and I still wouldnt do that), so where is his logic?  Now, I don’t know why I even got back together with him, but I did.  For a week.  And just like the first time, I felt sick to my stomach.  I always look back on this as a warning from God.  And this time, he wasn’t hiding his intentions.  He was CONSTANTLY making sexual jokes, sending inappropriate emoji ‘jokes,’ and asking for nudes.  He did not stop asking even when I told him to, and even when I told him it made my stomachache worsen.  I did not trust him, but I stayed for a full week of hell.  Eventually I slightly caved, showing him on facetime me in my bra and underwear (My thinking: he couldn’t save pictures that way).  He covered his camera.  Did he take screenshots or something? I don’t know.  It was awful.  I kicked him to the curb the next day, still feeling like *I* should be the one apologizing.  He eventually “tried” to apologize thru text, but was too much of a coward to apologize in person when i requested that.  He says he had cancer or something, I honestly don’t care. His actions were inexcusable and it was pathetic that he used it as an excuse.

I hated him so strongly for the next 3-4 years, but the story doesn’t end there.  A new guy, senior, 17 yrs old.  End of my freshman year.  We get together.  He didn’t properly ask me out, just assumed we were dating after we confessed our feelings EVEN THOUGH I told him my dad said to wait 3 months.  Red flag number three.  So, by the bf’s standards, 6 months into the relationship, I stay over at his place for New year’s.  I will admit that we did stuff over the phone prior to then, but I consider to be fine with that timeline.  At some point while we were planning to do stuff (if ya know what I mean but NOT full on hoo-ha stuff okay) for New year’s, he said “Who knows, maybe we’ll get carried away ;)” Red flag number four.  This immediately made me uncomfortable, and I was not fully comfortable when the day came either.

We were making out (consensual, but I feel like i was forcing myself a bit), I let him touch me down *there* (which he sucked at lemme tell ya) (also it was fine when he touched me before this day), and then he asked to touch my chest.  *Previously, he had stated if i wasnt sure, hed touch over my bra first and go slow.  He did not do either, instead immediately slipping his hand under my bra.* That is when something inside me snapped, and I felt number than I already was. Red flag number five.

I didn’t stop him because I wanted to feel something, anything.  I got nothing.  And then came the time when he decided to say “Now its your turn,” grabbed my hand, and put it down his pants, ignoring me, who was saying “I don’t know how to, I’m not sure I want to.”  

I felt nothing for a few days, and then depression set in.  It didn’t feel connected to that incident, and i didn’t connect the dots until later.  It got so bad I had almost decided to kill myself three months later.  My anxiety was through the roof, and every day my trauma manifested itself in the question “Do I actually love him?”  It was a living hell to be inside my head all the time.  He at one point asked me “Are you sure you were okay with what happened on new year’s? You’re acting like you’ve been raped.”  When I said I wasn’t, he said “oh.” and we never talked about it again.

The relationship continued for another year despite my obvious depression and anxiety that revolved around him. He lied to me on several occasions, disregarded my boundaries (i.e. continued to make sexual jokes even though they clearly bugged me after the assault), and refused to get a job so he could smoke weed all day.  My parents urged him to prove himself (he was out of high school by this time), and when I eventually took their side and gently nudged him along, he said “You are in a relationship with me, not your parents.  Its either me or them.”  Red flags six through ten right there.

When I managed to break it off with him, a ‘friend’ apparently took his side.  This is the girlfriend in the “His Reaction to Your Ex(es)” post(s).  This friend was actually an adopted cousin of mine, and we were not on speaking terms at this point because she had taken my first bf’s side, saying that *I* had to forgive him and that I was in the wrong for not wanting to talk to him or accept his half-assed apologies. (She was not at our school during the time me and that guy dated so she literally knew nothing).  I cut her off because of that.  Turns out she had a massive crush on the dude and he was already taken by someone else.  

So, this same chick sides with the second bf, telling people that I’m the one who hurt him and whatnot.  I come to find out that him and her are now dating and honestly, it is hilarious.  Even I think she deserves better.  He has no future, and I came to realize that, knowing that if i stayed with him longer I would have 100% actually killed myself, or died spiritually.

So yeah, that’s my story, hopelessly in love with fictional characters now because I am too traumatized by what they have done.  I cannot be touched sexually without reverting to a depression or an anxious mess.  Even if I did manage to be in a relationship after that, I don’t think I’d ever be able to have sex with someone. And finally I cannot have a healthy relationship, because what is that, really?  I’m just gonna live alone with some goats LOL.

[starryeyedcas]

I'm dropping a timeline of my South Park town in the Sims lmao (this is messy as FUCK btw and just drabble so-- reader beware //of my brain nonsense)

So I started by creating the boys and their families and then I quit playing for like a month (because doing all that work was just too much xD)

But I had all of the boys start out as children and I wanted to build there relationships from there. (as of now I have not made the girls other than Wendy and Bebe)

I dunno how most of y'all be playing the Sims but I have a story running thru my head throughout all of it and that's what makes it so fun for me xD My roommate can't relate

Anyways

After I got finished building everyone's relationships* ALL WITHOUT CHEATING BY THE WAY- I was able to play as Craig and Tweek, which I wanted to do in the first place.

I decided not to force age my sims and the save file is set for the sims to have a normal lifespan while the seasons are 7 [sim] days long. So essentially, I would have to play for 56 days of the boys as children. Or 8 sim weeks/ 2 sim years.

I dunno if y'all have ever waited for your sims to age up naturally BUT HOLY WORDS IT IS AGONIZING.

But I wasn't going to give up. For a while, I played solely as Tweek. He was a straight A student, he joined the scouts and earned all of this badges. He completed 2 out of 4 aspirations for children (Rambunctious Scamp and the Creative one) and by the time he aged up he had mastered the piano skill and had written and published a song. 

Craig kept up in school even better than Tweek. He would do extra credit work and was mastered in the logic skill before he aged up. He had completed 3 of the 4 aspirations. Rambunctious scamp, Social Butterfly, and the Whiz Kid.

I spent most of the time playing as Craig and Tweek and didn't really play with the other characters that much, but lemme tell you, it's really cool to have all the boys playing at the park at the same time. And when they would come home from school it would be like: "Craig wants to invite over classmate Token, is that okay?" and I was just like :D

I was able to do a little with Kenny, he was doing okay in school, but due to poor living conditions was never really happy. I got him a dog that's agressive and runs away a lot, so I felt like that built him up into what he is now.

WHICH BRINGS ME TO

The Teen Years**

this is where I am currently. Everyone is aged up except for uh, Clyde - Butters - Token - Eric. (they'll age up in few more [sim] days)

So immediately, as they aged up, Craig and Tweek hit it off. They are in a relationship... kind of. (more on this later)

Craig is a lifeguard afterschool and keeps up his A grade. He's also really into fitness and works out alllll the time. He is obsessed with Tweek, he loves him to death. He's got pictures of the two of them together all over the house.

Tweek on the other hand enjoys writing and playing music. He also keeps up his grades but he's not as meticulous with it as Craig is. Craig gave Tweek a promise ring and now Tweek is promised to him.

This is where things get a little interesting on my end---

I got a little bored playing with Tweek and Craig and their loving committed relationship (call it the Gemini in me) and I went to play Kenny (unrelated but he is a major comfort character of mine).

Kenny is a serial romantic. What can I say, the guy likes to have a good time. SO I have Kenny run over to Stan's house and they start dating. Kenny leaves Stan's house and run's into Tweek and they start FLIRTING.

Out of curiosity, I had Kenny ask Tweek if he was in a relationship and Tweek said NO. So Kenny saw an open window and climbed in- BAM he and Tweek start dating too. Everything is on the DL of course.

Meanwhile, Kenny is teaching himself how to sing. He practices a lot in public, which gets him FAMOUS. So now he's a famous person who flirts with anything that moves.

But the way I see it is, yes, Kenny flirts a lot. He is a bird you can't keep in a cage, but he will always come back home. And to Kenny, that home is Stan. How does Stan feel about it? Well I imagine that when Stan finds out JUST HOW MANY PEOPLE Kenny has been with, he's not going to like it very much. Especially since one of those people is Tweek, one of Kenny's closest friends.

HOWEVER like I said, Kenny is a bird and his home is Stan. Kenny loves Stan a lot and I imagine that when Stan find out about everything Kenny has been doing behind his back, they will break up and go their separate ways. But when they get older, and Kenny is ready to settle down, he'll seek out Stan and see if they wanna try things again. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it-

I've got big plans for Butters, however. He adores the shit out of Kenny, and I imagine when Butters' ages up he'll be Kenny's new "home" for a while. But we all know Butters deserves better so, I'm gonna have to find a way to give him a happy arc at some point.

--I'll come back and update this later--

* How I set up the boys relationships as children

Eric Cartman

Best friends with Stan, Kyle, Kenny

Good Friend with Tweek (idk how that happened)

Friends with Craig, Butters, Clyde, Token

Stan Marsh

Best friends with Kyle, Kenny, Eric

Friends with Tweek, Craig, and Butters

Acquaintances with the rest

Kyle Broflovski

Best friends with Stan, Eric, and Kenny

Friends with Butters, Tweek, and Craig

Acquaintances with the rest

Kenny McCormick

Kenny's fucking friends with everyone dude

Tweek Tweak

Best Friends with Craig and Kenny

Friends with the main four and the rest of Craig's gang

Acquaintance - Butters

Craig Tucker

Best friends with Token, Clyde, and Tweek

Friends with the main four

Acquaintance - Butters

** The Teen Relationships so far

I have worked on this one a whole lot just yet so you only get a snippet of what I have xD

Craig Tucker

Promised to Tweek Tweak. (but the game says they aren't in a relationship so....?)

Good Friends with Kenny McCormick and bunch of random villagers

Tweek Tweak

In an official relationship with Kenny McCormick

Promised to Craig Tucker

Friends with Kyle

Kenny Mccormick

In official relationships with Stan Marsh, Tweek Tweak, Kyle Broflovski, and 2 random sim townies

Having flings with at least 8 other sim townies (but they aren't that serious or official)

Good friends with Butters xD

[threeletterslife]

Chana! I was reading thru your about page and I saw that you like Harry Potter 😄😄 I'm a really big fan of HP too! Would you mind sorting the BTS members in their houses? And I know you said you're a Ravenclaw! Would you choose any other house if you could? -Hufflepuff reader

yes! i was literally obsessed with hp for five(?) years now, which isn’t a lot compared to others, but it’s a fandom i’ve been in the longest LOL so happy to see another potterhead!!

and I WOULD NOT MIND AT ALL!!!! I LOVE HP X BANGTAN OMG (i will eat any hp x bts crossover ff uP)

but to answer your questions,,, this might get a lil long lol

namjoon actually sorted the members in their respective houses a long time ago himself. (not sure if it’s still accurate now, but i think what he wrote back then was all true.) also as a side note, these are my opinions, so you don’t necessarily have to agree with them! and aLSO i think there’s a common misconception going around with new harry potter fans. your hp house is NOT what you are the most—it’s what you VALUE the most! i’ll explain more later

GRYFFINDORS

seokjin

seokjin has always been a bit easy for me to categorize in terms of hp house

he just screams gryffindor to me

he tries to do what’s right

he’s the oldest in the group so he’s always taking care of his younger brother-like figures

he does his best to make sure the other members feel safe and comfortable in new environments (that’s why he cracks so many corny jokes—to break the ice!)

though he’s not the official leader of bangtan, he does a LOT of behind the scenes leadership work

i think seokjin can be mistaken as a hufflepuff (just because he’s so friendly and kind) BUT this is where the values come in. seokjin might have some hufflepuff-like traits, but he actually values the gryffindor traits even more. he values his passions, his confidence, his valiance

he doesn’t take himself too seriously, but he knows what’s right and wrong (great moral compass)

that puts him in gryffindor

namjoon

i’ve literally seen so many pple put joon in ravenclaw just because he has an insanely high iq

but i mean,,, as a ravenclaw myself, i don’t see him in my house

yes, namjoon is creative, yes, he is intelligent, and YES! he is indeed insightful!! BUT,,, it all comes down to his values

namjoon uses his intelligence, his creativity and insight for the good of everyone! he’s a team player (not an individualist, as most ravenclaws tend to be)

and, not to mention, he’s bangtan’s official leader, and he does extremely well with that extra responsibility (gryffindors are great leaders)

namjoon tries so hard to do what’s right

he doesn’t try to cut corners to get to his goals. he’s very moral and fair

he likes peace and justice

gryffindors are drawn to good morals (they’re always trying to fix what’s wrong too)

namjoon is the staple gryffindor in my eyes

HUFFLEPUFFS

hoseok

hoseok is so easy for me to categorize, but i’ve seen him be sorted into gryffindor sometimes

i don’t think he’d be in gryffindor, though. hoseok is someone who doesn’t exactly like the idea of *risks*

gryffindors are all about risks (stereotypically they don’t think about the consequences that much because all they want to do is wrong the right)

hoseok (though he is passionate and charismatic) is more fit for hufflepuff

he’s bright, kind and always has something nice to say

the persona he puts on in front of the camera is close to his real personality—he’s just a sunny person in general

what makes him such a hufflepuff is the fact that he’s so hardworking! hoseok just dOES NOT give up (he’s extremely loyal to the people in his life, and he’s loyal to his talents too)

he chased after his dancing talents and look where he is right now

he wasn’t originally a rapper but he practiced and practiced until it became one of his talents

he’s dependable, honest and values friendship

hufflepuffs are people’s persons. and hoseok is just that—A GIFT TO THE PEOPLE

taehyung

taehyung’s the hardest one to put in a house in my opinion. he’s what you’d call *divergent* (and yes, in theory, everyone is divergent. we ALL have traits of ALL FOUR hp houses. BUT there are some people who exemplify all four traits more equally than others. so now, it all comes down to what taehyung values the most)

taehyung, in my eyes, is such a people’s person. that makes him a strong candidate for hufflepuff

the tae that i know has many friends—and he’s extremely good at reading people too (like his vibe check DO BE trustworthy)

hufflepuffs are often underestimated because they’re written canonnly as just being “nice”

hufflepuffs are much more than that. hufflepuffs are essentially gryffindors but with higher eq LOL (hufflepuffs would ONLY right the wrong if righting the wrong didn’t hurt anyone on the ‘wrong’ side—does that even make sense??)

tae is someone i see as extremely trustworthy—he’s someone who’d die WITH your secrets

he’s also very emotionally available to the people in his life

therefore,,, i sort tae into hufflepuff

RAVENCLAW

jungkook

ravenclaws are intelligent, insightful and most of all, they value creativity!!

jungkook is the staple ravenclaw

i can’t see him in any other house

like if i see jungkook, i see ravenclaw. they are literal synonyms

ravenclaws are stereotypically jack-of-all-trades because they genuinely enjoy learning new things

i mean,,, jungkook’s lowkey perfect right? he’s good at everything right? yeah it’s because he has the thirst to LEARN! he wants to be good at everything! that’s such a mf ravenclaw trait

sorry i get so excited explaining about my own house omf

jungkook’s naturally curious; he likes to poke at new things because he wonders what it’ll be like to learn about it and do it himself

ravenclaws are also stereotypically the “artsy” kids (and i mean, this man can DRAW)

ALSO! just because ravenclaws get called jack-of-all-trades often, it doesn’t mean they’re good at EVERYTHING. it means that they’re good at what they’re interested in!! (jungkook doesn’t exactly care too much about math, which is totally fine! he has his other interests)

ravenclaws are smart, yes, but just because you’re smart, doesn’t mean you’re necessarily a ravenclaw. (i.e. hermione isn’t open-minded enough to be ravenclaw.) being a ravenclaw doesn’t mean you just read a lot lol. it means you read a lot AND you take the adventures from the protagonist in the book and then apply it to yourself. hence, the *imagination*

idk man i can’t see jk in any other house

SLYTHERINS

yoongi

yoongi’s also really easy to sort

i mean, the man screams slytherin

a slytherin would do anything (maybe even cross a few rules) to get to his desired end result

some people call it evil (usually gryffindors and hufflepuffs), but i call it working smarter not harder (to slytherins, it’s not immoral to cut a few corners to get to their desired result—if they don’t get caught, that is)

if yoongi were not slytherin, he would not have cut corners in those bts run episode games LMAO (icon behavior)

slytherins also value individuality (like ravenclaws) but in a COMPLETELY different way. ravenclaws love to be unique because with their insight, they conclude that everyone has dealt with different experiences, making them their each, special person. slytherins like to be individualists because they like to feel special (sometimes paired with a superiority/god complex BUT i don’t think that’s necessarily bad. but slytherins do tend to be more close-minded than ravenclaws; slytherins value tradition)

in turn, slytherins find more success than ravenclaws. sometimes, ravenclaws step back when they find that their ideals will be replaced with success. slytherins would rather replace/reform their ideals to find success (i.e. yoongi became an extremely successful idol rapper when he could’ve actually just become a producer instead)

slytherins also tend to have trust issues. they don’t like to trust others except for themselves (smart, really)

yoongi is very self-driven and self-reliant, making him a perfect slytherin candidate

he’s the staple slytherin

jimin

i lowkey wanna copy paste what i wrote for yoongi into jimin’s explanation lmfao

personally, jimin was easy to place in slytherin, BUT i’ve seen a lot of pple put him in hufflepuff

so lemme just refute that for a sec

jimin is very self-orientated (and i’m saying that in the nicest way possible)

he wants to be unique! he wants to be special! he wants to shine!! 

jimin’s just a naturally giggly, bubbly person

but behind the scenes (behind the cameras), he beats himself up to be his very best self; slytherin behavior

slytherins are perfectionists, okay? they value what others think of them a lot OR they value the INFLUENCE they have on other people

remember? slytherins are about pOwEr! and power comes in many shapes and forms

jimin likes the idea of being well-liked! he likes the idea of being thought of as charismatic and talented

he may act like a hufflepuff to fit what people want to see in him, BUT the fact that he has to ACT like a hufflepuff to be in people’s favor makes him a slytherin lol (i mean,,, remember his whole FILTER song???)

anyways i wouldn’t call him a staple slytherin (that’s for yoongi) but he’s pretty close to being one

anyways, to answer your other question,,,

i’ve mentioned before that everyone is *divergent* 

of course i have all four traits of the hp houses, but the traits aren’t very equal for me. i have all the traits of ravenclaw, hufflepuff aNd slytherin. except i’m not very gryffindor. i have a few gryffindor traits, yes, but i don’t value them as much as my other traits. with that said, it’s hard for me to acclimate in environments where people value things that i don’t necessarily find as important

i think it’d be best for me to be in ravenclaw (just because every ravenclaw i know has been my best friend). i think i’d also do well in slytherin (but sometimes, i can’t handle their intense ambition lol). i’m also a good hufflepuff candidate, but i don’t think i could trade up being a ravenclaw for that

in the end, your house is your choice (it’s what you value the most)

i would like to say i’m friendly, ambitious and creative. but when it comes down to it, i’m picking my creativity and RUNNING. so no, i would not change my house. never! i’m a solid ravenclaw!!

i am so sorry this is so long wtf 😭😭

*also disclaimer* this was written in the pov of a ravenclaw,,, it may or may not be biased 😀😀😀😀😀😀