#like finally finding a solution to a puzzle

[outeremissary]

At the risk of sounding self-indulgent, Balthazar and Katala

(for the alternate love interest)

I could never begrudge a bit of self-indulgence on the self-indulgence website. I've done my best to research this and mull it over, but of course Katala is your character; what I think may not align with your interpretation, and I certainly welcome your thoughts. And while I read pretty much every post in her tag what I didn't get to was A Tangled Web, so I'm sure that I'm missing significant information.

The biggest issue I see is that Balthazar seems to be a textbook example of a person Katala would not like. Something I'm... not entirely sure is clear to people who follow me on Tumblr and not Twitter is that Balthazar is chaotic evil. He's generally apathetic to the well-being of others unless he's personally invested in them or thinks he can get something out of helping. He's also often an incredibly insincere person who lies partly to protect himself and manipulate others and partly just because he thinks it's fun to steer others in the wrong direction. Katala's not a fool- she's canny enough to catch onto something being off. She's also a very principled person. I think once she had a sense of what he was really like she'd likely find him fairly unpleasant. There's not a lot to connect them. And woe if she ever decided that she could fix him... there's nothing Balthazar hates more than someone believing it's their job to "redeem" him. It feels like being completely misunderstood. There's nothing that gets him into "I have to destroy you" mode faster. Though since she's not much of a second chance person to start with, it seems unlikely that even that would happen!

With all that said, it's not much of a game if the answer is just "it's impossible," so what might make it work...? And moreover what might make it work without it being a toxic nightmare or going for the easy hateship solve. This next bit is just going to be like... freeform story spinning, I suppose.

I’ve done my best to keep this world state neutral-ish, not knowing what context you’re imagining for the characters involved. Proceeding from that… The first meeting isn’t a complete disaster. Balthazar is able to come off fairly pleasantly when he wants, and he would want to win over someone who could be useful (every scrawny caster needs someone strong to stand between them and danger, after all). But Katala’s got intuition, from what I understand. Something’s always off, and at some point it becomes clear that this friendly façade is exactly that. She doesn’t seem the sort to leave things be as she senses more and more the tendency to turn a situation to his advantage without consideration for others, or to lie and mislead given the opportunity. As she keeps pressing he finally lets it slip that he can’t stand what he perceives as her self-righteousness. People who consider themselves good imagine they can judge anyone else- he despises that judgement. For her part, as more of his natural personality shines through I imagine that her view of him would be significantly soured.

Despite the tension after that, it’s not as if they can’t work together. Katala is, relative to Amiri, pretty reasonable and restrained; that’s something to be begrudgingly appreciated in her, as well as her rough charisma. And Balthazar has a knack for defusing tense situations- violence is almost always a last resort with him. As much as he’s a conniver, he’s also a decent team player. Having to work together results in some begrudging trust despite things.

It seems like the first major positive turning point would likely have to do with Katala’s family. They attempt to re-establish contact, laying bare in the process Katala’s insecurities around her upbringing and her connections to her family. In a moment of genuine empathy, Balthazar tells her that she’s done well for herself following her own way and living the way they want wouldn’t suit her. Relationship upgrade to frenemies- maybe this asshole has some redeeming qualities after all. There’s a more relaxed air between them, with more of a joking quality to the barbs exchanged between them. Here and there they talk more genuinely about interests. Once, they even drink together. Balthazar tolerates Hunter.

And then the wings manifest. They appear almost overnight in the wake of the Womb of Lamashtu, perhaps from the mutagenic influence of the First World, perhaps brought on by the extraordinary surge of sorcerous power it took to seal away the Bloom. It’s not as if there wasn’t a glimmer of something in the wake of Balthazar’s power before, but now it’s been made flesh, and it seems to be here to stay. And it’s clearly terribly, terribly distressing. Balthazar falls into a deep depression in the wake of this metamorphosis and withdraws completely. At this low point, Katala attempts to reach out. She begins to understand that the circumstances of his own birth haunt him. She returns the favor he did her: she tells him no matter his blood, he’ll still be the same asshole. This compassion in the face of his vulnerability endears her to him.

At this point I think we’ve got the groundwork laid for a romantic inciting incident. Your Crystalhue not-date, nick of time save in battle, celestial healing with a tender touch (congrats to Katala for being on the short list of people Balthazar is capable of healing), whatever you like. But I’m not here to write a full story, so I think my theorycrafting ends here. I imagine this improbable relationship would be based on a strong mutual respect and recognition in each of the other as a fellow outcast. They've both struggled against constraints placed on them by bloodline in their own ways, and both have chosen to go their own way instead of trying to live to satisfy others. There's space for admiration there. Perhaps even space for growth? There's no painfully optimistic fallen redeemer in the mix here, but it's not inconceivable for some of Katala's mercilessness to be tempered, or Balthazar's compassion to be reawakened. And beyond all that, if some of the notes I read are still current info, they're theoretically compatible in some more intimate ways, so there's... maybe that?

Ultimately I do think the best answer is just "this doesn't really work." Perhaps you see some way I don't, perhaps you agree with that conclusion. I tried though. So there you have it.

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 12

Summary: Wanda deals with the aftermath of your breakup.

A/N: This chapter is focused on Wanda. Big thanks to @a-cat-on-titan for an idea that made it on a part of the fic :)

Aint no mountain high enough

Ain’t no valley low enough

“Ain’t no river wiiideee enoough” Wanda dances around the kitchen, singing.

It’s never quiet around the house. There’s always music, or drilling or hammering. Because she’s taken into making (badly built) furniture. And pottery. And yoga.

To anyone else, it may seem like Wanda’s living her best life.

But Pietro’s not just anyone.

His sister is running away from her feelings, keeping herself busy just so she doesn’t have time to miss you.

“Oh, morning. Want anything for breakfast?”

“I’ll make something later, thank you” he refuses the offer, feeling better and finding his movements to be more confident after another month in physical therapuy. “How did you sleep?”

“Children, we’re late for school!” Wanda ignores him. That’s the one thing she can’t do. Sleep. She’ll rest for a few hours, but as soon as everyone’s asleep, Wanda gets too anxious. Her only solution is to put on a pair of headphones and paint or do pottery or anything else until it’s 3 am and she’s too tired to think.

Or dream.

“Billy, where is your soccer bag? You boys have practice after school!” Wanda says, trying to look for it. Kids, always misplacing everything.

“I don’t wanna go to soccer anymore! I already told you” he protests. Pietro looks up, prepared for another argument.

It’s been happening since you left.

“Sweetheart, you love soccer!”

“No, I don’t! I only liked it because Y/N helped me practice during the weekends and it was fun. I’m not going anymore”

With that, he leaves the house and heads straight to the car, slamming the door. Wanda knows he’ll be crying on the way to school and will refuse to hug her goodbye, the same way he’s done every day for the past month.

“Tommy, grab your stuff” the woman says, trying to pretend everything’s fine.

Unfortunately for her, the twins don’t let her pretend, showing how hurt they are and how much they miss you.

It’s just a phase.

“I have a meeting with Laura, I’ll come back later” she says goodbye to Pietro, hoping the car ride can be a bit better.

“Ok” is all he says, frowning.

There’s only one way to fix this. He just hopes his sister will find a way to forgive him after finding out what he did.

—

Laura is waiting with coffee and some biscuits. She’s always looking at Wanda anxiously, waiting for the moment that everything will finally collapse and she’ll feel all the things she’s avoiding.

So far, nothing.

“Hey! Oh, the boys are being so difficult lately. How did you manage with Cooper?” Wanda always walks in with a monologue ready, which never gives Laura the chance to ask her how she’s doing.

“I don’t know. I mean I don’t think that was a difficult age for him” she grimaces, thinking whether or not to tell Wanda this has nothing to do with age, and everything to do with her breakup.

“Is this the book? Oh my God, it looks amazing!” she changes the topic, knowing where the conversation is headed. As she opens to read the first pages, her smile fades. “Well, we need to get rid of that”

That as in, the dedication. The words that were written for you. Because you helped with the book, with taking care of the kids, with encouraging Wanda.

This was supposed to be a gift for you. Like the first book Wanda ever wrote, and she dedicated to the twins. And so on with every one of her family members.

You were the last piece of the puzzle. And she had hoped that someday she’d dedicate the next one to a baby girl. A daughter that looked just like you.

“Wanda…” Laura says, noticing the cracks in her friend’s perfect facade.

“Anyway! I have to go do some grocery shopping. I’m making coq au vin tonight”

“Do the kids eat that?”

“Sure!”

Of course they don’t. But chicken is too fast and she needs to be distracted and have a lot of dishes to clean and keep her mind occupied.

“Well, this is a first prototype. Once I speak with the publishing company we’ll get a date for the release” Laura says. “Hey, are you sure you’re ok?”

“Never been better” Wanda lies. “See you later, Laura”

Of course, the trip to the grocery store is not enough to calm her, not when there’s a woman wearing scrubs, looking exhausted and trying to figure out which baking powder is better.

“This one’s good if you want to bake cookies” she says, finding it hard to look away. “Sorry, you didn’t ask”

“No, that’s fine. Appreciate it” the woman nods, grabbing the one Wanda suggested and walking to another woman that is also wearing scrubs. They chat as they walk to the register.

Now Wanda regrets talking to them. What if they used to work with you? What if they tell everyone they saw her and she was being a weirdo talking to them first?

Worried about running into someone else, she hurries up with the shopping, and practically sprints to her car.

It takes her a few minutes to calm down. She forgets about the radio, until it begins playing.

One of your songs.

Wanda doesn’t have time to change the station, getting a call. She doesn’t really notice who it’s from, wishing nothing more than to disappear.

“Miss Maximoff? This is Tommy’s teacher”

Ok, that will distract her for sure.

“Is he ok? Are he and Billy…?”

“We’re gonna need you to come to the principal’s office, please”

—

A fight.

His sweet, wonderful boy getting into a fight. Well, that was a lie. And no one was going to mess with Wanda’s children.

“Sweetheart?” she approaches her boy, sitting outside the Principal’s office. His clothes are dirty, and his hair is full of weeds. “Who did this to you?”

“Miss Maximoff” Principal Coleman says, ushering her inside. “Please, sit down. I know this is pretty much new to you. Your kids have good grades, the teachers love them… but I’m sorry to tell you Tommy got into a fight today”

“Oh, but… he is the sweetest kid. I just can’t imagine him hurting anyone”

“Well, according to Daniel, Tommy was the one who started it” the Principal says, leaning back in her chair.

“Ok, why don’t we ask Tommy about it? Hear his side of the story”

“I already did but if you’d like to, be my guest” the woman says, standing up to open the door for Tommy. “Go on, tell your mom what you told me”

“I started the fight” Tommy mutters, looking at his feet. “I’m sorry”

“Are you ok? And Daniel?”

“Daniel only got a scratch on his arm. Look, this is a first time incident and Daniel’s parents were very understanding, so I’ll let you take the kids home and figure this out. But if it happens again…”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Principal Coleman. And you said, to take both kids?”

“Yeah, Billy’s pretty upset about it” the Principal says, opening the door for them. “He’s at the library waiting for you”

Wanda walks next to her son, her mind racing. This has never happened, there must a logical explanation. She tries to keep her cool, but when she sees Billy sitting at the library, pulling nervously at his hair, she feels like a girl again, lost and confused.

She doesn’t know what to do or how to make things better.

“Billy, let’s go home” she says, waiting for him to walk out. The boy avoids her eyes, rushing past them and running straight to the exit.

“Mom” Tommy says, but she’s too overwhelmed.

“Later, Tommy”

The ride home is silent. Wanda doesn’t even play music, holding on to the wheel until her knuckles turn white.

You’d know what to do to make it better.

But now you’re gone.

She barely has time to park before Billy runs out of the car, opening the door and going upstairs.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” Wanda says, still in the driver’s seat. Tommy looks away, shrugging his shoulders.

“Daniel was mean”

“That’s not an excuse to hit someone, you know better than that, Tommy” she scolds him. “You’re grounded, go to your room. We’ll talk about this later”

He steps out, his head down. Wanda is waiting for him to walk inside the house when she sees a woman with short, gray hair inspecting her garden.

“Hello. Can I help you?” Wanda says, clearly on edge. She’s not in the mood for any more surprises today.

And as the woman turns around, her jaw drops.

“Mom!”

“Hello, dear”

“Grandma!” Tommy runs back to her. “It’s you!”

“Oh, my! Look at you, it’s been forever since I’ve seen you! You’re so tall” the woman says, hugging her grandson. “Where’s your brother? Did you leave school early?”

“Uh… let’s all get inside. Tommy, tell your brother to come back down, please” Wanda interrupts, knowing she’ll get unwanted advice about parenting as soon as her mother knows what happened at school today. “So, how… I mean when…”

“Mama, I hope your flight was good” Pietro walks up to the door, wrapping his mother in a hug.

“You knew she was coming” Wanda says, feeling her blood boiling.

That little Mama’s boy.

“Don’t make a fuss, Wanda” their mother scolds. “I’m just here to help. And I won’t be staying in your house, your neighbor rents a room down the street. Mrs. Davies, you probably know her”

“Yeah, of course I do” she answers, but her mother is already walking inside, inspecting Pietro.

“Now, how’s recovery? You look so thin, bratan. Oh! You got a dog!” the woman exclaims, Sparky running around her.

This is so not how she expected her day to go at all.

—

Wanda’s not allowed in the kitchen while her mother cooks, and she can’t clean either because that was the first thing Ekaterina Maximoff did as soon as she set foot in the house.

The list of things she can do to get distracted is drastically reduced, so she locks herself in her study, pretending to sketch.

But all she can think about is you.

This is exactly why she doesn’t like to have free time. The memories of how you filled every part of the house with laughter and love are just waiting around the corner to remind Wanda how badly she messed up.

She decides to check on the twins, who should be done with their homework around this time.

But only Billy’s in his bed, playing with a Rubik’s cube you gave him.

“Hey” Wanda says, as she opens the door. “Mind if I sit?”

Billy just shrugs his shoulders, eyes focused on the different colors of the puzzle.

“Wanna tell me what happened in school? Did Tommy really start the fight?”

Billy sighs, and then looks up.

“Daniel said some mean things. Like…”

“Like… sweetheart, you can tell me anything, I promise. I just want to understand what happened” Wanda reassures him, squeezing his hand.

“Daniel said he heard his dad talking about you and Y/N. How it wasn’t right that you were with her and that he was happy she was gone. And then… he said maybe now that Y/N wasn’t around I…” Billy covers his eyes, trying to hide the fact he’s crying.

“Come here” Wanda comforts him, her heart breaking. She’s sorry to say this, but she doesn’t blame Tommy for getting into a fight with Daniel, not after he said all those horrible things.

“He said that now that Y/N’s gone I was going to stop being a weirdo”

“My sweet boy, I am so sorry” Wanda says, kissing the top of his head. “What Daniel said is not ok and his father should teach him better. I promise you I will talk to him about it”

“Don’t be mad at Tommy, he was just upset” Billy asks, wiping the tears. “He misses Y/N and so do I”

“It’s ok” Wanda hugs her baby boy, rubbing his back in a soothing motion. She feels Billy relax against her, hugging her like he used to do before you left.

Correction.

Before Wanda kicked you out.

“Do you miss her?” he asks, his voice small. He knows his mother doesn’t want to talk about you. It upsets her too much.

“Of course I do”

“It’s just… it feels like you don’t care, Mama. Like you don’t even remember her at all” Billy says, crying more.

“I know. I’m not the best at this, darling. I guess I just miss her so much it hurts, and I rather not think about it at all. It’s a silly thing grown ups do”

“Do you know if she’s ok?”

“I think so. I hope so”

“Do you think she misses us too?”

“I’m sure she misses you and Tommy and Sparky”

Truth is, Wanda isn’t sure you have any love left for her. Not enough to miss her, at least.

—

The food tastes like home. Like the summers in the country side, or the cold days of winter where Wanda played with Pietro until Mama called them home for a dinner of warm soup and bread.

“Delicious” Pietro comments after the first bite and Wanda nods.

“I can never get the sauce for the Chkmeruli right” Wanda says, trying to figure out the missing ingredient. “Your is so much better, just like grandma’s”

“I’ll teach you how to get it right” Ekaterina promises. “The secret is in the amount of ingredients. And something that we’re not telling anyone else”

“Alright” Wanda nods.

“Now, boys. Tell me all about school. And your hobbies. Do you play videogames?”

Wanda watches her family interact, laughing at certain things, and looking at her mother with fascination.

There’s a certain guilt that takes over when she understands she wasted three years of her life for something that could have been solved with an honest conversation.

One day, her mother will be gone and she’ll regret not having spent more time with her.

There’s also another regret in the back of her mind.

She wishes you had met her mother.

“Excuse me for a moment” she says, standing up from the table and walking to the bathroom. She covers her mouth to stop from sobbing, but there are tears in her eyes and a weight in her stomach that doesn’t let her sleep or eat or live.

Wanda fucked up so badly and now she’ll never see you again.

“Oh, God” she says, trying to breath, and fix her makeup. She can’t let the boys see her like this.

It’s been an overwhelming day, that’s all.

I’m fine.

“Is everyone done? I’m cleaning the kitchen” she says as soon as she comes back, picking up the plates and rushing past her family.

The cleaning keeps her hands busy and mind at ease, but she's still humming a song, just to focus on something that isn’t those awful thoughts she just had.

“I’m sorry” Pietro says, walking with the help of his cane. “I know it feels like an ambush, and I know you don’t wanna talk about it, but you’re not ok. The kids are always fighting with you, you do everything but talk about what happened and Y/N’s stuff are still in the garage. Maybe… fixing things with Mama can give you some perspective. I don’t know. I’m a burden most of the time, without being able to walk or do more around here. I just wanted to help”

Wanda keeps cleaning, never turning around to ackowledge her brother. He sighs, scratching the back of his head and turning to leave the kitchen.

“You’ll never be a burden, Pietro” is all Wanda says, finally turning to look at him. He smiles.

“Try to get some rest”

“You too”

“Oh, and Daniel definitely deserved to get his ass kicked”

“I agree” Wanda laughs. “Don’t tell the kids, though”

Pietro makes a motion, as if sealing his lips.

Their mom walks to hug him, saying goodbye for the day.

“You can sleep in my room, I can take the couch” Wanda offers.

“None of that. Mrs. Davies is excited over her very first guest and I won’t be the one to disappoint that sweet woman. Get some rest. Tomorrow I’m making borsch”

“You don’t have to cook, I can handle it”

“Of course I have to. Your brother needs to gain some weight!” the woman says, kissing her daughter in both cheeks. She says something in Sokovian about her children eating all that American food, walking out to Mrs. Davies house.

Wanda’s done with cleaning, and she goes upstairs to say goodnight to the kids.

“Hey. You’re not grounded. Ok?” Wanda says when Billy falls asleep, looking at Tommy. “Thank you for looking after your brother”

“I am older by ten minutes” he says, like Pietro always does. Wanda smiles, kissing his forehead.

“Sleep well, sweet boy”

And as she walks to her room, that feels so empty ever since that night one month ago, Wanda’s not sure how long she can handle pretending that one day, your abscence won’t hurt as much.

—

She could fix this.

You always fixed things.

Wanda had gotten the message. You disappeared, no calls or texts, not even to let her know where you were staying.

And when she tried to reach out, you never answered.

But now she was worried and scared, and most of all, sorry for the things she had said to you.

Wanda needed to apologize, to tell you how much she loved you.

But even if that was the only thing on her mind, she was standing outside the hospital, trying to gather the courage to come in.

“Wanda” a voice said behind her. Although it was familiar, Wanda was disappointed when she turned around and saw Carol Danvers.

“Hey… I was just… I was looking for Y/N”

“Oh. Uh… you haven’t heard?” Carol stumbled with her words, caught completely off guard.

“Heard what? Is Y/N ok?” Wanda’s heart began to race… maybe you were injured and it was exactly why you hadn’t replied to any of her messages, or answered the phone when she called.

“Yeah, uh… oh, crap” Carol looked over Wanda’s shoulder. “If I were you I’d run back to my car”

“What?” Wanda turned around, her eyes meeting Darcy’s.

“You!” the brunette barked, walking faster. “You’re about to find out why I got banned from lacrosse in college, Maximoff”

“Let’s calm down” Carol asked, stepping between the two of them.

“No! I will not calm down. I hope you’re proud of yourself, Wanda. You told Y/N everything she’s always been afraid of hearing. That you can’t trust her or the 'we’ll be better without you', fucking fantastic, really!”

“Darcy, come on, we should get back inside” Carol said, pleading with Maria to help her. But Darcy was not done.

“All this bullshit of making her move in with you and be a family for what? To kick her out just because you had a shitty day? Because she was saving a life?”

“I just… I know I screwed up, but if I could just talk to her…”

“Well, for that you’d have to get on a plane to Boston. Because Y/N quit” Darcy said, amused at Wanda’s shocked expression. “Yeah, my best friend left without a second thought because of you. Way to screw over everyone, Wanda”

“I didn’t want this to happen”

“That’s not good enough, unfortunately. You got lucky, because Danver’s here. But I’m being serious, if I see you again I’m gonna make an even bigger scene”

Maria went after Darcy, who was clearly pissed off, leaving Carol and Wanda outside of the hospital.

“Do you know if she’s ok?” Wanda asked, looking down.

“She doesn’t answer anyone’s calls or texts, Wanda. All I know is she quit one week ago and got on a plane to Boston”

“Right… Well, I better go” she said, biting her lip. “Thanks for keeping Darcy from killing me”

“Yeah, we’re understaffed with Y/N gone. So I can’t really let Darcy get arrested” Carol joked, though it was also one way of reminding Wanda her actions had impacted a whole group of people outside of her.

“See you” Wanda nodded, walking fast to her car. Chief Fury almost clashed against her, as Wanda was looking anywhere but the path in front of her.

“I’m sorry”

“Bet you are” the man grumbled, walking to the hospital.

Even another man in a motorcycle couldn’t keep from staring at Wanda, his blue eyes cold as ice.

So, Wanda got on her car, and left without lookig back.

She lost you. Forever.

—-

“Morning” a very upbeat voice speaks as Ekaterina walks down the stairs.

“Morning, Mrs. Davies” she says, smiling.

“Oh, please, call me Sharon. Would you like some coffee?”

“I’ll take some tea”

“Of course. Very healthy!” the woman says, getting everything ready. Ekaterina takes a moment to look around, admiring all the plants in the room and the flower wallpaper.

“Are you a gardener?”

“Only for fun” Sharon says, putting some biscuits in a plate. “Can I just say, I love your accent?”

Ekaterina smiles, but keeps from answering that. Though people were nice about it, she knew others had always been critical of her for not learning “proper” English when her family moved to America.

Which is why she was happy to return to Sokovia when things settled. The US was never her home, even if it was for her children.

“Was the family happy to see you?”

“Oh, yes. Especially my daughter” Ekaterina jokes, though it flies over Sharon’s head. Of course she doesn’t know that they have a complicated relationship. “I do hope she has been a good neighbor to you. I raised her to be kind”

“Oh, she’s great. Always baking stuff for everyone, the kids are very polite and well behaved too. She’s a great girl, just as Y/N. They were good together. I hope Y/N is doing ok” Sharon says, pouring every single detail that Ekaterina wanted to know.

Well, seems like it’s gonna be easier than she thought.

“Yes, this Y/N girl. Can you tell me more about her?” she says in a casual tone, and Sharon is happy to talk about you.

“Well, she moved to the neighborhood like two years ago. She’s a surgeon, always working. Honestly, very quiet but very nice. One time I fell in the sidewalk and she slept in the couch just to make sure someone was around in case I needed something”

Very impressive. It was the kind of thing that would make Ekaterina approve of anyone dating her children.

“And she was with Wanda?”

“Well… I’m not sure I should talk about this” Sharon hesitates for the first time.

“I’m just curious, as a mother…”

Ah, the mother card.

It works so well.

“Of course, you’re right! It’s not like I’ll tell you things you can’t figure out on your own” Sharon laughs, thinking of everything she remembers. “Well, Y/N lived across the street from Wanda, which is probably how they started talking. You know, young people understand each other better than us”

“So they were together?”

“Yes, I think Agatha saw them almost a year ago… on a date or something. And then, it was kinda nice to see Y/N around a bit more. Ya know, it was obvious she was spending more time at home, to help with the boys. They adore her. Always running around with her, playing. It was nice to see them all be a family” Sharon’s enthusiasm dies down.

“And then?”

“Humm” she says, sighing. “I honestly don’t know. The last time I saw Y/N she was walking out of the house and she got into her car. She didn’t have any bags or anything, so I just assumed she was going to the hospital… but then she never came back”

“And you have no idea what happened?” Ekaterina pushes forward, curious to check if the woman’s being honest.

“No, I’m sorry”

“Mudak”

“Oh, can I ask what that word means?” Sharon says, smiling. She loves learning new words.

“It means motherfucker” Ekaterina answers, her accent heavy.

“Wow, ok” Sharon giggles nervously. “You know who could have that information? Agatha. Yeah, her girlfriend works at the hospital. She’s kinda scary”

“Agatha or her girlfriend?”

“Both, definitely both”

“How can I speak to them?” Ekaterina says, trying to piece everything together.

She can manage scary. Especially when she’s looking for answers.

—

Billy’s in a mood again. He didn’t want to go to school, and he’s still refusing to go to soccer practice.

“Daniel’s gonna keep annoying me” he mutters.

“I will speak with his father today” Wanda says, driving them both to school. “I’m sure it’s gonna be fine, sweetheart”

“Y/N would kick his ass” Billy says in a low voice, but Wanda still hears.

“Don’t speak like that. And violence is not the answer”

“Yeah, well, Daniel’s a jerk, his dad too and I want to talk to Y/N. She’s the only one that can make everything right again”

“Enough!” Wanda shouts, pulling up to drop them off. “Y/N’s not coming back. You hear me? She’s gone. We don’t need her, we’ve been fine on our own our whole lives”

“You’re lying. I hate you” he says, running out of the car.

Wanda’s speechless.

This is the first time she’s had a fight with her sweet boys. The first time they’ve been mean or said something to hurt her.

She was expecting this as they got old, maybe 13. But now?

“Bye, Mom” Tommy says, walking after his brother. He’s nervous too. He knows he can’t get into any more trouble or he might get suspended, but Daniel’s not the nicest kid.

“Oh, damn it” she looks behind her to notice Billy left his lunch. “Kids!”

“Hey, Wanda” Richard calls for her. “Heard our guys had a little fight. I was hoping we could talk about it. Maybe over dinner?”

She resists the urge to roll her eyes. Is he really flirting right now?

“Yeah, I should actually…”

“No need to apologize, boys will be boys, right?”

“Apologize?” Wanda tilts her head, the way she always does when she’s pissed. “I wasn’t planning on doing that. And neither is Tommy”

“Well, he started the fight”

“No, Daniel was repeating the stupid things you say. Like how it’s wrong for two women to date. And he also insulted Billy” Wanda says, crossing her arms. “The way I see it, it’s the proverbial talk shit, get hit”

“Wow, ok, no need to get emotional”

“No, I’m not emotional. I’m just saying, if you ever say anything bad about Y/N or my kids and I get wind of it, I’m running you over with my car. See ya, Dick”

Fucking asshole.

Wanda can practically hear you say those words. Though you’d be a lot scarier, telling him all the ways in which he could get hurt using medical terms he wouldn’t even begin to understand.

You’d never let anything bad happen to your family.

Wanda decides to play the loudest music on the way back home. Yes, death metal from her emo phase -something you’d tease her for relentlessly before-.

As she pulls over in the driveway, her mother knocks on the window, making Wanda jump.

“Why are you still listening to that devil music? I thought that phase was over!”

“Mom!”

“Are you ok?”

“Fine”

“Yeah, I can tell”

“Ok, I don’t have time for this, I need to drive Pietro to rehab. Do you need anything from the store?”

“Yes, many things! Like actual paprikash. I can’t believe you buy US made. That’s why you can’t get the food right”

“Seriously?”

“Settle down, you two” Pietro asks, coming out of the house. It was a fun time, being a teenager and hearing his sister and mother argue over every single thing. They’re too much alike, that’s the only problem.

“Anyways, I will go to store, Sharon is letting me drive her car”

“Ok, does she know about the time you almost destroyed a McDonald’s with Papa’s car?”

“He said drive through, so I did!”

“Yeah, through the wall” Pietro laughs, earning a slap on the back of the head from his mother.

“You, go to your thing. And I’m picking up Billy from school today. He doesn’t want to go do soccer, so we’re going to get ice cream” Ekaterina says casually.

“It’s not optional for him! I’m the mom here”

“Just for a day. I hardly think it will affect him if he doesn’t run around like dog after a ball. Take Sparky instead” the woman says.

Wanda wants to scream into a pillow.

—

Ekaterina comes back from the store, but instead of parking outside of Wanda’s, she leaves the car right outside of Agatha’s home.

The investigation continues.

After a knock, a woman with dark, long hair and piercing blue eyes opens the door.

“You the OG Mrs. Maximoff” she greets, standing aside to let her in.

“I don’t know what those words mean. I’m Wanda and Pietro’s mother”

“Ooh, I love the accent. I love learning languages. My girlfriend is teaching me Spanish”

Before Ekaterina can answer, there’s a frantic knock, and Sharon walks inside the minute Agatha opens the door.

“I hope I’m not too late”

“I didn’t know we were having a party” Agatha says. She doesn’t really like visitors, and Mrs. Davies' enthusiasm and corny jokes are an acquired taste.

“Alright. What do you want to know?” Agatha leans back in her chair, intrigued by the woman.

Why not just ask her own daughter? Though, considering how Wanda’s been acting, she’ll probably refuse to answer any questions about it.

“Why did Y/N leave? Where did she go?”

“Ok, so… I need a minute because Rio was telling me everything in Spanish so I could learn. You know, using gossip as motivation” Agatha massages her temples, trying to remember everything. “Ok, there was a new doctor, something, something, cheating, slapping, break up”

“What?” Ekaterina says. “Are you saying that woman slapped my daughter?”

“No! Well, I don’t think so. Ah, screw it! Amor!” Agatha shouts, calling for Rio. “Ponte ropa y baja a contarles el chisme”

“Está bien” a voice says. A few minutes later, another woman joins them in the living room, wearing shorts and a t-shirt.

“You called?”

“Ok, so I kinda lied when I said I understood everything you said in Spanish. I do remember the name Natasha. And something about a kiss” Agatha smiles, and Rio can’t really stay mad when her girlfriend is looking all cute.

“So, a few months ago, Natasha Romanoff came to the hospital to teach a method developed by her mother. The Romanoffs are a very wealthy, very famous family of doctors. And everyone in the hospital kinda noticed that Natasha was flirting with Y/N”

“Did Y/N flirt back? Was she cheating on my daughter?”

“I meaaan, 50/50. The hospital was split. Some people believed that she was just being nice and others thought there were feelings involved”

“What do you think?” Ekaterina presses.

“I think Y/N was just being flirty but she never meant for anything else to happen. She’s just naturally personable. Even she can manage to make me laugh from time to time. So, I don’t know. There was a rumor that Natasha kissed her once or was trying to talk her into breaking up with Wanda… which, I guess has some truth to it, considering Y/N moved to Boston to work for the Romanoffs”

“I’m sorry, then who slapped who?” Mrs. Davies asks, confused.

“Oh, Y/N’s mother outside the hospital, but that's not related to Wanda. Darcy told me that woman is awful. Used to put Y/N through hell when she was a kid”

“Yeah, I know the feeling” Agatha mumbles and Rio places her hand on her shoulder, comforting her.

“I don’t like this Y/N” Ekaterina decides. “She was weak and got my family hurt”

“I don’t think that’s exactly accurate…” Agatha says, feeling the need to defend you. She knows you, and you’d never do anything to hurt Wanda. Not on purpose. “Look, I was looking for my bunny that night. Little shit likes to escape out of the blue. Wanda was the one who ended things. I heard that loud and clear. And yes, it seems messy, but I don’t think it’s fair to blame it all on someone”

“Yeah, Y/N really loved the kids and took care of Wanda” Sharon insists. Ekaterina sighs, crossing her arms.

“I don’t suppose anyone knows how to get in touch with Y/N”

Agatha, Rio and Sharon share a look.

“I could try” Rio offers, thinking Darcy might be in touch with you.

“Thank you. Now I go to pick up Billy from school. I appreciate your help”

“I actually need the car for a bit” Sharon asks, but the woman is already gone. “Oh, well”

—

True to her word, Ekaterina picked up Billy from school, while Tommy was supposed to ride with Sharon and her kid to soccer.

Wanda wasn’t really looking forward to practice today, in case Richard was there.

Thankfully, it seemed like Daniel was here with his mother, but Wanda’s stomach dropped when Susan walked up to her.

“Wanda, can we talk for a sec?”

“Yeah, sure”

They walked away from the rest of the parents.

“Look, I know what Daniel said and I already talked to him about it. He’ll apologize to Tommy and Billy, but I wanted to tell you personally how asahmed I am. Those awful things are all Richard and I really don’t want Daniel to be like his father”

“Oh… wow. I don’t know what to say” Wanda laughs, relieved. “Your ex had a very different approach to this whole situation”

“I know, he’s an asshole”

Both women laugh at that.

“I was going to say, he can speak to Tommy after practice, but I haven’t seen him today. Or Billy”

“Oh, Billy’s with my mother. But Sharon picked up Tommy…” though when Wanda looks around the field, she doesn’t see her son. Spotting Sharon, she runs up to her. “Hey, Tommy rode with you, right?”

“What? Wanda, he said he was feeling ill and that you were going to pick him up”

“No, that never… I-I don’t have any missed calls. No one from school told me anything. Shit!” she curses, her hands shaking. Her mother takes forever to pick up the phone. “Is Tommy with you? No, I know Billy’s there. What about Tommy? Ok, I don’t have time to explain, meet me at home now”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think to call you” Sharon says.

“No, no. It’s fine. I’m sure it’s fine” Wanda repeats, trying to calm herself.

Her first instinct is to call you.

But then she has to think really hard on what to do, so she calls Pietro to make sure Tommy isn’t home by some weird miracle. Should she call the cops? The fire department?

Clint, he will know what to do.

“Ok, I’ll meet you at your house, it’s gonna be fine” Clint says.

“You good to drive?” Susan says, walking Wanda to the car.

“Yes. I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding and Tommy’s in his room playing videogames”

“Well, ok, if you need anything here’s my number” the woman says.

Wanda goes over everything that could have happened. Tommy likes to visit the library, the park on Fullton street, the comic book store…

Clint’s already there when she gets home, and Ekaterina parks a second later.

“Billy, come here” Wanda kneels to look at her son. “Did Tommy tell you anything? Was he going somewhere?”

Billy shakes his head no, and Wanda insists.

“Sweetheart, are you sure? I promise I won’t be mad”

“I don’t know, I swear”

“Alright, I just spoke to my friend at the station. They’re gonna start looking for him. Pietro should stay here in case Tommy comes back or someone calls home. The rest of us could split and check places we know he frequents” Clint says.

“Billy, stay with uncle Pietro” Wanda asks. The boy nods, walking up the stairs to meet his uncle, who puts his arm around his shoulders.

“I’ll go to the arcade” Clint offers. “Ask if anyone’s seen him”

“We’ll go to the park” Wanda nods, waiting for her mother to join her in the car. She can’t even begin to understand what’s happening.

Wanda doesn’t know what to do, but she has to remain calm, because her son needs her.

—

Tommy’s begining to think this is a bad idea. He doesn’t have a lot of money and he doesn’t have a clue on what bus will take him to Boston.

He should be at soccer practice now.

He finds a cafeteria not far from school, and goes inside hoping he can get some free water.

“You alone, sweetheart?” the waitress says, concerned.

“No, my mom is in the bathroom” he lies and the woman doesn’t seem entirely convinced. Either way, she leaves him alone. Tommy takes the time to dig in his backpack for some extra coins that might be in there.

Instead he finds a letter and a couple of pins.

After reading it, he walks up to the waitress and finally tells the truth.

“I ran away. Can you help me find my mom?”

“Of course, sweetheart”

—-

“Where should we go?” her mother asks, and Wanda points in the direction of the lake.

“He liked to feed the ducks with Y/N”

“Ok, then”

They walk in silence, Wanda’s thoughts racing until her mother speaks.

“I lost you once. You were four or five, maybe, and we were at the market. While your brother picked out the apples, you decided to run after a chicken. And I was so scared, calling for you in the sea of people”

“Yeah. It’s an awful feeling” Wanda says, wiping away the tears.

They walk around the park for ten minutes before deciding he’s not here. Tommy’s nowhere to be found. He’s a ten year old, for God’s sake, where on Earth could he be?

Before she has time to think it twice, Wanda picks up the phone and dials your number.

“Hello?”

That’s not your voice.

It’s Natasha’s.

Wanda hangs up, and adds this to the list of shitty things that have happened to her in the span of two days.

“Mom, I can’t!” she finally breaks down. “I don’t know how to fix this. I miss her so much and I ruined everything and she’s never coming back. And now my boys hate me and I have nothing. All because I was so stuck in the past. And I lost her”

“Breathe. Breathe for me” Ekaterina pulls her daughter into a hug, while Wanda’s body shakes with the strenght of her sobs. “It’s ok. It will be ok”

“It doesn’t feel like it”

“Trust me” she says, waiting until Wanda calms down. After a few minutes, she wipes her tears and looks at her mother. Wanda’s about to say something else when her phone rings again.

“Oh, it’s Clint. Hello? Yes, where? Ok, send me the address and I’ll be right there” she hangs up, sprinting to the car. “He’s at a cafeteria not far from school”

“Thank God”

It’s only a five minute drive but to Wanda it feels like an eternity. As soon as she parks, she spots Tommy sitting at the counter, drinking a milkshake while a waitress talks to him, trying to ease his nerves.

“Is that your mom?” the woman says when Wanda gets inside. Tommy’s eyes widen, and he runs towards her.

“Mama!”

“Oh, Tommy. I was so worried about you”

“I’m sorry”

“It’s ok. I’m just happy you’re safe. Let’s go home”

—

The kids are safely tucked in bed, and Wanda’s having a glass of wine in the kitchen. She’d drink something stronger if she had anything at all.

Her mind goes back to the fact Natasha picked up your phone.

It doesn’t mean you’re with her. And even if you were, Wanda was the one that broke up with you.

Then why did it hurt so much to think you’d already moved on?

With a sigh, she goes up the stairs. Wanda can’t help but go into her children’s room, just to make sure they’re both safe.

When she asked Tommy what happened, he just said he wanted to go and see you. But then he changed his mind when he found something in his backpack. Though he wouldn’t tell Wanda what it was.

As the woman walks up to her children, she notices a letter tucked under Tommy’s pillow.

Could this be the thing he found?

Billy and Tommy,

Hey kiddos. This isn’t something I’m happy about and I never really wanted to write a letter like this one.

You might not see me anymore. I know it sucks, because I promised I’d take you to the state fair and Universal Studios when the school year was over.

The thing is, sometimes grown ups have a lot of complicated things going on. Sometimes things don’t work out no matter how much we try.

Be good to your mom, ok? If you miss me and want me to be less worried about you, just promise me you’ll love her extra for me. You are her biggest treasure and she’s such a great mom. Don’t forget you’re all each other have.

PS - I’m leaving my lucky pins with you. Please take care of them for me.

Love you three,

Y/N

Of course.

Of course it was you.

Even if you were thousand of miles away, you had found a way to help Wanda and keep her family safe.

Now she won’t be able to sleep at all, so she goes downstairs to the garage, full of boxes with your clothes and books.

For the first time since you left, Wanda allows herself to look at everything you left behind, and everything you did. The smallest things, like how you always forget to wear glasses to read, and you end up with a frown. Sunday’s crossword puzzle, always discarded. It’s not that you don’t finish it, the opposite. You know the answers to everything so fast that writing them is a waste of time.

Wanda pulls out your college sweatshirt, hugging it tight against her chest.

She misses you, so much it hurts.

As she puts on the sweatshirt, Wanda folds the sleeves, slightly long for her shorter arms.

When she’s about to close the box, she sees it.

A small box. For a ring.

An engagement ring.

She let’s out a gasp as she opens it.

You were proposing.

And all Wanda did was question your committment and your love for her and the children.

I’m such an idiot.

She doesn’t have much time to wallow, though. Wanda’s phone rings, and her mouth goes dry when she reads the name on the screen.

You.

Looking between her phone and the ring, Wanda doesn’t know what to do.

Should she tell you she found the ring?

Would it make a difference at all?

[darlinluxx]

𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐑 | 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐊 ౨ৎ

pairing : saebyeok x fem!reader

fluff

warnings : none

summary : Cheol starts seeing you as a mother figure

a/n : inspired by @karli6 comment on one of my posts bc it’s so cute i couldn’t not write about it

𝐓he scent of lavender fills your small apartment, a comforting aroma that’s become synonymous with Saebyeok. it’s a stark contrast to the grit of her life, the harsh edges that you know so well, and a gentle reminder of the soft woman beneath. you’re perched on the edge of the couch, a half-finished crossword puzzle abandoned in your lap. Saebyeok is at the small table, her brow furrowed in concentration as she counts the meager money spread out before her.

you watch her, a fondness blossoming in your chest. you love that even in her moments of vulnerability, there’s a strength that radiates from her. it’s the same strength that protects her younger brother, Cheol.

speaking of Cheol, a small, hesitant cough echoes from the doorway. you look up and see him, his backpack slung low on his shoulders, his eyes large and uncertain. he’s holding out a crumpled sheet of paper.

“i… i need some help.” he mumbles, his gaze darting between you and Saebyeok.

Saebyeok glances up, her expression softening as she notices Cheol. “homework again?” she sighs, a hint of exasperation in her voice. she picks up a pen, ready to tackle the task at hand. but Cheol shakes his head, his focus locked on you.

“not for you.” she shuffled closer, his gaze imploring. “can you help me, please?”

your heart melts. it’s not that Saebyeok isn’t good at academics, but her way of teaching sometimes involves a lot of direct answers, whereas you prefer a more patient, guiding approach. you know that Cheol can be easily intimated, and perhaps you offer a calmer space for him to learn.

you set aside your crossword and smile, beckoning him closer. “of course, Cheol. let me see.”

he practically barrels himself into the space next to you on the couch, his small body warm against your side. as you smooth out the paper, you see it’s a math problem involving fractions, a subject dreaded by many young students.

“okay,” you say, pointing to the equation with a pen. “this looks a little tricky, but we can break it down. what do you think about first finding the common denominator?”

you spend the next half hour patiently explaining the concepts, drawing diagrams on scrap paper, and gently nudging him towards the solution. you praise him for every small victory, and his eyes light up each time he grasps a new idea. you realize these moments are precious. you enjoy being able to support and teach him.

Saebyeok watches from the table, a subtle smile playing on her lips. when you finally help Cheol arrive at the correct answer, he bursts into a grin, his satisfaction radiating through the room.

“thanks! you’re the best!” he declares, his eyes shining with newfound confidence. he scrambles off the couch, heading to his room, leaving a trail of discarded papers in his wake.

you turn to Saebyeok, a warm feeling settling in your chest. “he’s a smart kid, just needs a little encouragement.”

she nods, her eyes holding a complex mix of affection and almost… relief? “yeah.” she says quietly, returning to the money.

over the next few weeks, you notice a pattern forming. Cheol starts seeking you out for help with his homework more often. it’s never forced, always a gentle request. and you never refuse. you find yourself looking forward to the quiet evenings spent poring over textbooks and diagrams with Cheol. it’s a nice change of pace from the anxiety and fear that usually permeates both his and Saebyeok’s lives.

sometimes. he even asks for help with things beyond schoolwork. it’s in these seemingly mundane moments, as you help him, that you feel a strange connection to Cheol, like you’re something more than just his sister’s girlfriend.

one evening, as you’re helping him with a particularly challenging history assignment, Cheol pauses, his small fingers tracing the outline of an illustration in his textbook. he looks up at you, his eyes wide and earnest.

“you’re like mom,” he says, the words spilling out before he can think them through. “she used to help me with my homework too.”

a wave of emotion washes over you. it’s not even a conscious decision, but you pull him into a gentle hug, holding him close. it’s a bittersweet revelation. his mother is a gaping hole in both their lives, a void you can’t ever hope to truly fill. but if you can offer him a semblance of stability, of care, it’s something you desperately want to do.

you feel Saebyeok’s eyes on you from across the room. you look up and lock her eyes. she’s watching you with a soft smile on her face, a silent understanding passing between you. she knows the weight you carry with Cheol’s words, and she knows the strength you hold within as well.

you squeeze Cheol gently, kissing the top of his head. “well, i’ll try my best, okay?” you say, before returning to the history book, a different kind of warmth filling the space within your small, lavender-scented apartment. it’s more than just homework, it’s the beginning of something that feels like family. and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), a lot of cussing (bkg-typical), reader is implied to be smaller than bkg, some angst (or a lot? :0)

words. 3k (ofc had to end it with a bang)

a/n. see the end of the post for a message from me, as well as the title reveal of the series! hope you enjoy this ending <3

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

The fairy lights strewn across your walls and interwoven with fake vines finally flicker out, robbing you of your clear view of the ceiling, leaving you in a sea of darkness with the only source of light being the sliver of sunshine that’s entering through the small gap between your curtains.

You heave a heavy sigh, vaguely seeing your chest rise with the action, your legs tangled in a messy heap of your blanket and pillows.

Replace the damned batteries—again, you make a mental note while side-eyeing the alarm clock that reads 8:37 AM.

Rolling your torso to the right side in a stretch, you groan as your hips make a loud cracking sound.

You can’t remember the last time you intentionally moved your body like this—at least, not for the last two days.

Ever since you got home that Friday night from Bakugou’s parents’ house for Thanksgiving, you haven’t exactly been attuned to your body and what it’s telling you its needs are.

As much as you’d hate to admit it, you’ve been way too in your head since then, going over every interaction with Mitsuki and Masaru, pinpointing every lie you spat out, and replaying in your head the delighted reactions they paid you back in return. And with each re-run came a new wave of nausea and the pitiful urge to collapse in a boneless heap.

You can’t even bear to think about how they’d react once they find out everything’s a sham.

God, Mitsuki’s gonna have a heart attack and die before she even gets the chance to enjoy retirement with her husband.

Needless to say, you barely managed to sleep a wink that night, too heavily preoccupied with your guilt and paranoia to even get a half-hour straight stretch of rest in.

The weekend that followed wasn’t any better.

The worries expanded from Bakugou’s family and how they’d react to his friend group, and god forbid Kirishima and Mina and Sero and even Kaminari find out and you painfully witness palpable disappointment flash across their kind features.

Especially after they welcomed you that warmly into their squad and even went out of their way to conjure stories about Bakugou to make you laugh and enjoy yourself.

By Sunday afternoon, you finally decided you were in no shape to prepare for all the work needed to be done for the next day, let alone show up to the agency and face everyone.

Particularly Bakugou.

The thought of whom has been causing puzzling physical sensations that you find messes with your rationality and causes your chest to ache, frustrating you even more and furthering your resolve to avoid things for now until you can come up with a solution to the situation at hand.

And so with an email sent to Hikari about filing for a sick leave tomorrow and her having to step in for a meeting with the founders and department heads on the day of, as well as a reply expressing her affirmation later, you buried yourself in your queen-sized bed and doom-scrolled to distract yourself until you fell into a fitted sleep.

Which leads you to now.

With you, again, staring at the ceiling, the sounds of nothing but distant honks and a gust of wind entering through the windows breaking the silence.

At least, that is the case until a barrage of weighty knocks echoes throughout your apartment and into the doorway of your bedroom.

Almost instantly, you sit up in alarm, and you’re immediately hit with gut-wrenching dizziness from the action. Despite that, you stumble out of your bed in a hurry, swiftly adjusting your pajamas and baggy T-shirt as you shimmy your socked feet into your house slippers before running to the foyer.

Your heart is hammering in fear as you tiptoe to peek at the intruder through your peephole, thoughts racing as to who the fuck could this person possibly be, visiting at not even 9 AM on a Monday.

You’re bracing yourself to see the ghost of Christmas past who just happened to visit a little early, whoever the fuck that person could be in your life, and for your stomach to drop in horror at the sight of them, only it isn’t someone from your past.

No, it’s someone from your present.

Someone who’s very much in your present.

Yet your stomach drops nevertheless.

Through the hole, Bakugou is studying the unit number hung on your apartment door, brows furrowed in what you think is confusion and a tinge of impatience. He’s decked in his winter hero costume, although his eyepiece is up against just above his forehead, pinning down his notoriously unruly ash blonde hair. You almost miss it, but he seems to be carrying a plastic bag with his left hand.

You feel your throat dry up at the sight of him, and you’ve half a mind to do a complete 180 and tiptoe back to your bed and just pretend you’re not home when he knocks again, only this time the knocking’s more insistent.

Despite yourself, you still jump at the sound, and you chalk it up to your nerves being indubitably fried from three days of constant worrying.

You glance longingly at your bedroom, itching to dive into your sheets, drown out the rest of the world, and pretend you’re not in the middle of the mess you’ve inadvertently made. But as you look back at the door and the sound echoing from its direction, you’re washed with an uncanny sense of shame.

What happened to facing your fears head-on?

With a few soothing circles to your chest where your heart is approximately at in an effort to ground yourself, you take a few cautious steps towards the door, hand slightly shaking as you reach out to hold the knob.

Here goes fucking nothing.

Bakugou’s in the middle of still rapping at your door when you finally twist the handle and fling the slab of wood wide open, revealing the man with his right fist frozen mid-air, a prominently surprised look plastered across his features, as if he didn’t expect anyone, let alone you, to open the goddamn door even with his absurd knocking.

You force a smile onto your face, although you can tell it probably looks more pained than anything. “Bakugou.”

At the sound of his name, it’s almost as if he snaps out of a trance because he quickly brings down his raised hand, clearing his throat in the process. And almost immediately after, an eyebrow raises in question.

He opens his mouth to speak, and you couldn’t have ever guessed what he’d say next if you tried.

“…You don’t look like shit?”

You gawk, “Excuse me?”

Bakugou frowns, as if you’re the one not making any sense. “I thought you were sick.”

With that, he thrusts the plastic bag he’s been carrying to you.

Your eyes dart down to inspect it, before looking back up at the man in confusion.

He huffs, “‘s care package, is all. Come on, fucking take it.”

Not knowing what else to do, you gingerly take the bag off his hands, opting to cradle it with both arms and hold it close to your chest. You give him a quiet thanks, to which he just nods in acknowledgment.

You both stand there in awkward silence for what feels like minutes, neither of you saying anything. It’s only when you catch Bakugou peeking at your living room above your head that you remember basic courtesy.

“…You want to come in?” you meekly ask, conflicted as to whether or not you prefer a decline from the pro-hero.

To your chagrin, or delight—you don’t fucking know—he replies with a curt ‘Sure’ before squeezing in through your doorframe and toeing off his boots.

Against the backdrop of your rather modest home, pro-hero Dynamight looks completely out of place. His bulky figure further dwarfs your small decorative knickknacks, and his black and orange pieces stand in stark contrast against the earthy tones of your furniture.

Suddenly remembering you’re fucking staring, you lift your eyes back up to Bakugou’s face, only to find him already studying you.

You quickly scramble for something to say.

“H-how’d you get up here?”

“…The elevator?” he answers, with too much of an ‘are you dumb’ undertone for your liking.

You huff, “No, I meant how’d you get past the security and receptionist? And I don’t remember ever mentioning what floor and unit I lived in.”

To that, Bakugou only shrugs. “The guard recognized me. Even asked for a fucking photo. And when I asked about you, he was quick to give me your details.”

“Seriously?!”

Bakugou has the audacity to roll his eyes, before: “He knows about us, dumbass. Said he read it in the news.”

Oh.

“R-right,” you dumbly reply. “Sorry.”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, only shaking his head in what you think is dismissal. He shifts his weight to his other leg from where he’s standing near the backrest of your couch, a few feet away from you awkwardly leaning against the kitchen island where you’ve placed his gift bag.

When you meet his gaze again after a brief moment, he’s already looking at you expectantly.

“What?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

“Why are you not at work?”

You absolutely can’t with his fucking bluntness.

“I’m sick,” you lie, surprising yourself with how smoothly it tumbles out of your mouth.

You’ve had plenty of practice after all.

But apparently, not enough to fool Bakugou.

“Bullshit.”

Instantly, you feel a wave of indignation wash over you, together with a sense of deja vu—as if this conversation has happened before.

“I don’t think you’re my fucking thermometer, Bakugou,” you snap, unable to rein in your anger.

“Really, now?” he retorts, not missing a beat. “How ‘bout we use the thermometer I brought you and see what that has to say, hah?”

Before he can even move towards you to grab the tool from where it’s sitting behind you, you blindly reach for the bag behind you and bring it to your front, clutching it close to your chest.

“No.”

At your move, a devilish sneer invades his features. “So you’re admitting it, then?”

You purse your lips in a tight line, already teeming with irritation. “I don’t owe you an explanation. My request’s already been approved by HR.”

“But why?” he presses, eyebrows seemingly permanently furrowed. “You never take time off unless it’s a major emergency or some shit.”

“And you don’t just take off and abandon your patrol duties, yet here you are,” you quip, not knowing how else to respond to his accusation because it’s true.

“I didn’t abandon patrol,” he spits back, “I had Eijirou cover for me.”

That’s it.

“Well, I’m sorry I’m a goddamn mess, right now, okay?” you finally cry, throwing your hands up as if gesturing a surrender. “Can’t a person have just one day of not having to fucking lie to everyone?”

To your surprise, Bakugou doesn’t bite back and bark a harsh reply. Instead, he only stares at you expectantly, wordlessly coaxing you to explain.

And you don’t know what it is about it, but his borderline concerned gaze is the catalyst that causes the proverbial dam to break open and for everything to come flooding out.

Your voice is so pathetically small when the words finally come out.

“…Bakugou, why are we even doing this?”

Again, he doesn’t say anything, and you take his silence as an opportunity to keep going.

“You know, at first, I thought I—no, we—had a rationale,” you start, looking at everything else in the room but him. “I wanted to get back at my ex, and you, for some reason, wanted to be a hero and get back at him…too? Okay, shit, it’s already getting confusing.”

At that, Bakugou scoffs. “Quit making me sound like an aimless dumbass, idiot. I just hate ugly ass douchebags.” He crosses his buff arms in front of his chest, “It’s a personal goal of mine to make them pay.”

You eye him suspiciously, not exactly sold on his answer, but you press on.

“Okay… And so we—I did—exactly that by punching him at his wedding. Which brought us unnecessary attention from the press, eventually pushing and forcing us to act like we’re dating around everyone.

“And we’ve done exactly that!” you bemoan, “Around your closest friends, even around your sweet, innocent parents, for crying out loud!”

You finally will yourself to look at Bakugou, and he looks like he’s about to say something but you cut him off before he can.

If you don’t get this out now, you doubt you’ll ever get another chance to do so.

“It’s just—I—I don’t think I can do this anymore, Bakugou,” you finally say, shoulders sagging in relief at finally having said aloud what’s been haunting your mind.

You look at him squarely, injecting as much conviction as you can into your tone for what you’re about to say next.

Because, you now realize, it’s the one thing that’s been plaguing you the most.

“I don’t want to cause you to fuck up your life any more than I already have.”

You study his face, bracing yourself for a spectrum of reactions you can potentially elicit from the man. You watch as his jaw visibly clenches, and it bewilders you how he can look so pained when, no matter how much you rack your brain for a reason, there’s nothing in it for him in this silly, not-so-little arrangement of yours.

Except, maybe a bit of self-satisfaction and amusement over having helped a damsel in distress.

A few minutes of silence pass with neither of you saying anything.

“…Bakugou?” you finally ask, voice small.

Suddenly the previous expression that was just on his face morphs into a full-on scowl, so much so that the man looks like he’s about to combust any second now.

And erupt he does.

“You have some fucking nerve, you know that?”

Again, and despite yourself, a pulse of fury courses through your body, but before you can even spew your own venom in your defense, Bakugou beats you to it.

“Who gave you the fucking right?”

You’re fuming. “Who gave me the fucking right to what?”

“To fucking walk into my life, just like that!” he snaps, shutting you up.

He shakes his head, disbelieving and seemingly resigned. “Like you had any business strutting in looking so fucking pretty, and then you had to put a nail on the coffin by being the best at your job like it’s no big fucking deal? You put all the agency’s useless executives to shame with how hard you work and how good you are at it.

“And you go ahead and punch the guy who’s been a complete dickhead to you and then worry about how you ruined his wedding. And you say all this nice shit to me and my friends and my family like it’s fucking nothing.”

His hand shoots up to pinch the bridge of his nose, like he’s feeling a headache creeping in, before he drops it in favor of turning to fully glare at you.

“But now you have the gall to call it quits when I’m just starting to get used to this? It’s—you—you’re something else.

“You’re a fucking pain in my ass, you know that?”

Robbed of all words and eyes wide as saucers, the only thing you can choke out is: “W-what are you trying to say?”

At that, Bakugou scoffs. “You really are a fucking dumbass, aren’t you?”

But you don’t even get to retort a defense, or even get the slightest bit offended at his remark, because in the blink of an eye, Bakugou is on the move—purposefully stalking towards you.

And just like that, he pulls you into a searing kiss.

You think you might have squeaked in shock at the contact, but that thought is suddenly overwritten in your mind the moment you feel his big hand rest on the space between your neck and shoulder, while the other remains firm holding your chin in place.

Your eyes flutter close at the intensely warm feeling, and before you get to talk yourself out of it, you kiss him back, and Bakugou’s grip on you tightens when you do so.

And as you revel in the softness of his lips and the fervent way he’s kissing you like he’s been waiting to do this for as long as he could fathom, everything finally dawns on you.

Your feelings—your true feelings—and the fact that you’ve been in denial all along; an idiot who chose what to see and hear and believe to protect herself from hoping and potentially getting disappointed in the end.

But this?

This.

This is the farthest thing from disappointment.

Finally, and maybe a little too soon to your liking, Bakugou slowly pulls a few inches away, and the boyish grin that’s now decorating his beautiful features causes your heart to throb so painfully that it almost hurts—in a good way.

With his two hands that are now resting on your shoulders, he squeezes the flesh, bringing you somewhat back to reality.

“That answer your question, princess?”

Despite yourself, you flush, but now you find that you don’t mind Bakugou noticing, what with the wave of warmth that floods you at the view of him grinning even wider at the sight of you.

Not trusting your voice not to crack just yet, you can only nod as you smile and feel tears slowly pooling your eyes. And not wanting for him to see them, at least for now lest he worries, you quickly blink them away before leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.

And he leans his against yours.

A few moments pass before he speaks up again.

“…Fucking finally.”

“Fucking finally…you have a girlfriend?” you jokingly reference his best friend, although despite the playfulness of the quip your heart is hammering at the suggestion and silently begging, begging for an affirmation.

But what he ends up giving you is lightyears further than that.

Bakugou shakes his head, tipping your chin up so that you’re looking straight into his eyes.

He grins.

“Fucking finally I have you.”

a/n. not to be emotional out here, but this series was such a joy to work on. i haven't written in a year and a half since this series, what with my depression having gotten really bad. i'm nowhere near better, but the process of working on this series and interacting with you all really gave me a sense of fulfillment that i haven't felt in the longest time. with that, i want to thank you all for the support and love <3 this wouldn't have been as enjoyable without you all!

and so drum roll, please; the title of the series is: the wonderful mess that we made (from the song flaws by bastille). a separate masterlist for this will be posted soon, so pls keep an eye out for that :,)

lastly, i'd love to hear from you about how you found the series! my replies, tags, and asks are always open <3

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @beab19 @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @lovra974 @chelbyisbord @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69 @lemuhr @rosemarygalaxy @iluv-ace @eyesforbkg @carpe000diem @shushbruv @matchat3a @ttalgi @bakunianadecorazon @the2ndl @keiscwsz @onlyisaa @aizawa19 @471323 @bakugosgothhoe @bleublooded @msjaeger @ellielover69

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 they make the biggest difference! have an awesome day ( ˘ ³˘)

[fartcloudfartcloud]

Simon Riley x Maid!Reader

based on this text post

Summary: Simon has a house cleaner come clean once a month. What happens when she goes on vacation, and you're her replacement?

warnings: sfw but theres tension 😋, will make an nsfw part two if you guys want it :), Simon being big and scary and offputting per usual, lots of internal dialogue

a/n: loved this concept, and since I actually worked a door to door cleaning job I thought this fit so well and needed to write it. hope u enjoy :)

You took a deep breath.

These were the steps you were to take in this job. You had no reason to feel unsafe or in danger of any sort. Yet, the thought of walking up and knocking on this door had your heart in your stomach.

Simon Riley Is what the work order had listed as the clients name. Ex Military. Large German Shepard named Riley. Liked his wooden floors cleaned with vinegar instead of the regular cleaning solution. Nothing too out of the ordinary.

Except for the entry instructions. The small box on the piece of paper that would normally hold a few finely printed words, things such as "Homeowner will be not be home, key is under welcome mat"

or "Homeowner will be home and located in office on second floor, door will be unlocked"

had big, bold font to start. Your manager had to go in and manually change that detail, and knowing her, that must mean this is serious.

The box reads-

"DO NOT ATTEMPT TO OPEN DOOR. HOMEOWNER IS EX MILITARY AND EXTREMELY STRICT. RING FRONT DOORBELL ONCE AND WAIT."

Yeah. Very normal and not at all gut-wrenching.

You keep taking deep breaths as you go through your routine. Read the work order thoroughly once more, try not to shit yourself, go and grab your equipment, and follow the instructions.

Easy. Just follow the routine.

Your equipment is as big and clunky as usual. With a vacuum on your back, a bucket full of microfiber towels, a backpack full of chemicals, and knee pads on both knees, you knew for sure you were a sight for sore eyes.

You're not quiet as you walk either, each step making every plastic piece of your puzzle clunk and scrape in a cacophony of reminders of why you were here. You thunk and bang your way up the front porch, eyes everywhere but the front door, still taking deep breaths as you try to just focus on your surroundings, taking note of the nice front garden and walkway as you pass.

You finally settle on the front porch, your arms dropping the bucket and preparing yourself for the big push to start this job.

One ring, you remind yourself. Then wait. Deep breath.

You look up to find the door bell, hand pulling up in a search for the button when you see him.

He must have heard you, you decide as he stands behind the screen door with his arms crossed.

Simon Riley is massive, standing what feels like a clean foot taller than you, big muscled arms bulging from his tight t-shirt. They're as big as your head, his thighs probably twice so. His face was pulled down in a heated gaze, though the bottom half of his face was covered by a black mask. He was scary as he stood there, his aura menacing and doing nothing to sooth your nerves.

Yeah, ex Military makes sense, Jesus christ.

"Ya pissed of my dog, allat noise." You jump, the deep british voice startling you as he begins chastising you. His face frowns down it you, his eyes angry. You're speachless, "Well? Talk."

You stammer as you realize you were just sitting and staring in awe, mind suddenly back on track and then derailing again as you have no idea what to say.

The routine, Jesus christ the routine what's the next step. You scramble for your binder, pulling it open to his work order page and looking up at him as you muster up the courage to speak.

"Um, are you, uh, Simon Riley, sir?" You ask, stuttering and staggering between every word.

He reaches foreword and opens the screen door, getting a good look at you first before he can respond.

"Hm. You the cleaning lady?" He questions, the hand not holding the door open now stuffed in the pocket of his pants.

"Mhm, yeah, im- uh. I'm from Housekeeping Heros, you have an appointment for, um-" you start rustling through more pages of the binder, desperate to find the information, needing to prove to yourself more then him you were in the right place.

"I know i 've an appointment," He holds out his hand and halts your movements. You relax, all the horrible conclusions you were drawing coming to an end. Though, as per usual, they were quickly replaced with new ones, his voice still short and snippy with you.

Deep breaths, girl, we can do this.

He points to your small pile of equipment. "Ya need 'elp?"

You shake your head no, suprised he'd offered. Though he just responds with a head shake, motioning to give it here with his hands. And you do, you don't even second guess it, handing him your bucket and backpack without a second word, something in you submitting to him without a care in the world.

He turns around and walks everything into the kitchen where he gently rests it on the table, softer then you were expecting. You follow him in, feeling like a stray with your legs tucked between your legs as you fet settled. He looks at you expectantly.

Not sure what he's looking for, you start explaining the cleaning process, using your binder as a reference and pointing to each section. He stands behind you, arms crossed again and chin tucked down as he nods along with your words.

He points to the vacuum on your back, "Not round Riley, ya 'ear me?" He scolds. You take note of the large German Shepard snorring lightly on the couch.

"And none o' this shite," He kicks at your knee pads, pointing to a mop he had in the corner. Thank God, cleaning on your knees always sucked, and why your bullshit company made you do it anyways was a marvel.

"Oh, thank you!" You chirped up. He seemed to scowl further when your voice pitched up, so you slink back in on yourself. Understood, point taken, sir.

You still were not feeling great, the pit in your stomach unrelenting as you organize your stuff.

He looms close by. You figured he would, not doubting the "extremely strict" next to "ex military" on your work order at all.

You start with the first step of your process, filling the bucket up in the sink and soaking your towels in the cleaning solution.

"Where's yer boss?" He grumbles from behind you, making you jump.

"Um, Nancy?" Bucket now full, you throw the towels into the warm water with a dash of solution.

"Eh, whatever her name is," He grumbles. How polite.

"Haha, um." You giggle akwardly, "she's with family right now, I think," you stutter, trying to speak loud enough that he could hear you clearly.

He just hmphs in response. As your towels soak in the water, you reach for your extendable feather duster and start wiping the top corners of the room.

"Whats yer name?" He grumbles. It shocks you when he says it. He couldn't seem to care less about the other workers name, but he was interested in yours?

You told him, quiet, "sir," peeping out after. He just hmms again, leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed as he watched you work.

It was nerve-wracking, having him over your shoulder. He hadn't said anything yet, but it felt like you could feel the complaints waiting to come. You just kept up the deep breathing, taking the clothes out of the water and dispersing them on the countertops throughout the house.

He had a very large home, no mcmansion that took up half the street, but a pretty place tucked in a nice down town area. Honestly, if the home and neighborhood wasn't so gorgeous, you probably would've turned around and told your supervisor to give the damn house to someone else.

But thankfully, or not, Simon seemed to harbor a certain comfort for his homes presentation. The indoors of his home reflected it as well, the house put together like it was being staged, every inch perfectly in place.

Maybe that's why it's not so surprising when the first complaint does manage to leave his lips in the form of a hiss as you go to open a cabinet door.

"Oi, what do you think yer doing?" He hisses, rushing over to grab your wrist and pull it from the knob. You gasp as he's suddenly in your space and touching you, flinching as he does.

"Um, I just gotta m-make sure the insides don't need to be wiped down, sir," your muscles shake as you speak— him actually coming over and grabbing had you a little shook up.

He waved his hand infront of your face, dismissing whatever you have to say, "None of that. Don't need'a open nothing that ain't yours." you just nod, taking your first breath once he's finally out of your space.

That would've been a very good thing to include in the work order, Nancy.

Well, at least that's a few less things to worry about cleaning, though you may have failed your task of not shitting your pants, because good lord. He's right back to his perch on the wall, observing you carefully now.

You get into your routine, floating room to room and doing each task per the work order. You slowly scrub the slight musky smoke smell that lingers throughout, instead replacing it with the smell of cinnamon and detergent.

He likes watching you work, but he knows he doesn't show it, not a flutter or twitch anywhere to be seen. He growls small, careful, watch it, leave it, keeping you on edge through every movement.

You do move much faster than your college though, much more gracefully. He notices your wandering eyes, lingering on the photos on the wall and the dates on his calender. He let's you get away with it, for now. Figured he'd picked on you enough, should probably just let you finish your work.

That is, until you approach the end of your routine. You'd been scrubbing and whipping and Simon snipping and snyding for almost an hour now, you'd made excellent time and you hope Simon knows that.

It's all you can think about, actually. Him and the way he has you doting on him, some broken part of you combined with the fear his giant stature instills has you easily folding to do whatever he says and respond to his every grunt. It has your mind a little clouded, even more so as you swing through every step of your routine with practiced care.

It was finally time for the last step of the routine, and you shivered out a breath as you unwrapped the vacuum. Simon had sank a little further away, now sitting at the kitchen table with his eyes glued to a newspaper, anxiety settling slightly without his prying eyes.

You get the cord untangled and laid out across the carpet, searching the perimeter of the room for an outlet. You couldn't see any in the open, and not wanting to risk pissing off Simon for moving furniture, you start to round the corner in your search.

Suddenly, you're against the wall, a giant hand against your sternum as the breath is knocked out of your lungs. His face is in yours, eyebrows furrowed and breath hot on your face as he spoke.

"Tha fuck ya think your doin'?" youre confused and breathless, small under him as he leers above.

"I dont- im-" "Been nothing but nice to ya since you clambered yer way up my damn porch, and I gave you one fuckin' rule." His voiced is raised at you now, chastising you in that brazen, gravely tone. "One! and what do you go and try to do?"

You're just confused, what had you done to elicit this response from him? You thought he was complacent and quiet at the table, what of his million little rules could you have broken?

That's when you see it. Her, you should say. Rylie, the big German Shepard he'd warned you to by no means vacuum around, was bundled up on the couch, inches from where you stand.

Fuck. how had you forgotten.

"Sir, i- I didn't realize, I didn't know she was there sir i-" You desperately try to make an excuse for yourself, but he's just shaking his head at you.

"Do ya think flutterin yer eyelashes a little is gonna make everything better?" He mocks you, his big blue eyes locked on you. You shake your head no, half of it to answer him, the other half just you shivering where you stand.

"No sir- I'm sorry sir I didnt- I forgot you told me and-"

He's clicking his tongue at you, a tsk tsk to put you to shame. To your suprise, each click when straight to your core, and suddenly the heat in the room is rising. Your body is flushed and your sure your face matches, if the way his eyes crinkle when he looks up at you says anything.

His hand doesn't leave your sternum, as he speaks, Inches from your face, "too good at this to be forgetting," he shakes his head, the praise a little shocking, and the soft, "too pretty," that follows it hammers the fact.

You breath is caught in your chest again as he leans into your ear, eyes wide and mouth clamped as he murmurs a deep.

"So how do you think I should go bout making sure you remember?"

[brittscafe]

𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐒𝐰𝐚𝐩

Pairing: Bleach captains x reader!

Summary: Captains swapping bodies with you. What they would do in your body. Established relationship.

Request: Hi :3 What about body swapping s/o with bleach characters? Like, as a random experiment or just like that? I'm especially interested in captains, the rest are up to you. Have a nice day~

A/n: Hiiiii! Of course, this is such a fun idea to write about. I hope you enjoy <3 Fyi, some are longer than other and some are shorter depending on the character <3

Content: Fluff, nothing suggestive, body swapping.

Jushiro:

When he finally finds out that the two of you have swapped bodies, he's very respectful.

He treats your body with care and respect. Your body is returned to you the exact same way you had it before.

Jushiro is curious though, hands feeling up and down his new body, careful not to touch any intimate places.

When he goes out to the Soul Society, he tries his best to act like you, so nobody notices.

Does a really job at pretending to be you while on the inside he's freaking out.

Cannot wait to get back into his own body.

Shunsui:

Oh, Shunsui is going to have fun since he's now in your body.

He'll admire your body for hours and mischievously chuckles as his hands run all over your body.

He brags to you about how good he looks in your body.

Struts around all the time in your body with a new found confidence.

Likes to go out to the bars and see how many men your body can pick up.

Get jealous bc he eventually realizes the way men look at you, so he storms out of the bar with clenched fists.

Pouts in his own estate for a moment, before sighing and napping until the two of you switch bodies.

Byakuya:

He's in shock at first, staring at himself in the mirror with wide eyes.

Of course, Byakuya tries to stay inside his estate for most the day, knowing that people could easily see through him and realize it's not actually you.

Has his house servants run most of his errands with him and he tries to cancel any meetings that he can.

Tries to act the same, but most can tell that he's acting a little awkward and not really himself ;)

Mostly stays calm for the whole day while a little weird in moments, but that's really it.

Toshiro:

Def puzzled and confused, screams for Rangiku.

She laughs in his face and precedes to take many photos that she will keep a secret.

Toshiro wants Rangiku to find a solution and she agrees reluctantly.

Toshiro and Rangiku spend a few hours trying to find a solution, but Toshiro eventually gives up, but Rangiku keeps trying to find a solution.

He sighs deeply and mostly just does paperwork the whole day.

Kenpachi:

Knowing this man, he could care less. Goes about his day like nothing has happened.

Probably doesn't even notice until the end of the day.

Looks in the mirror and just shrugs his shoulders.

Unohana:

Isn't really fazed by it, tbh.

Questions it for a bit, staring at her new body in the mirror.

Honestly just hums for a minute, tilting her head and continues on with her day as usual.

Acts the exact same and doesn't really see it as that important to get your bodies swapped back.

Shinij:

Cocks an eyebrow when he wakes up and notices. Def takes him a minute to realize it.

Honestly, he's not sure what to think at first. He's puzzled and confused.

Def lets Hiyori know and she laughs in his face, making fun and teasing him.

Shinji rolls his eyes with annoyance as he sees that Hiyori is going to be no help.

Def has his fun and sees how your body works differently than his.

Finds it super interesting and fun until he doesn't.

He starts to get a little freaked out and def has a moment where he's trying to pull his face off, well...your face.

Then he finally calms down and rushes off to go find you, hoping to swap bodies back sooner than later.

Soi-Fong:

Def like freaks out at first and screams super loud.

Needs alone time to process what the hell is going on.

Paces back and forth whispering to herself, "What is going on?" on and on.

Tries not to let anyone know, but she's acting so damn different and everyone can tell that something is going on.

She tries to spend most of her time alone in a room or alone in a forest.

You and her come together, freaking out and trying to find a solution.

Kensei:

Honestly, probably screams for a solid 5 minutes when he wakes up in your body.

Freaks out for sure and def has a panic attack for a good hour or two.

Def tells Mashiro and Rose and wants them to help them.

Mashiro and Rose spend all day trying to figure out how to reverse what has happened to him.

Def stays inside and tries to keep himself occupied until he can get back into his own body.

Mayuri:

Would totally do it as an experiment and does research on it.

Def does it in your sleep so you don't realize that you wake up in Mayuri's body.

You totally freak out and run to find Mayuri, but he's long gone doing endless hours of research and experiments.

He's super interested in it and cannot stop staring at himself or touching his new body.

The point is the man is doing endless experiments and tests and isn't done until he says so.

So have fun being stuck in Mayuri's body for a few days or maybe a week...

[whatiswrongwithpeople]

A Moment of Clarity

Jayce Talis x reader

summary: Jayce and you had been friends and lab partners for what feels like an eternity. However, something different has been simmering underneath the surface for a while now. All until you reach a major breakthrough in your research.

warnings: none, fluff, pining

notes: I got my bachelors degree yesterday and inspired by that I just had to write a happy Jayce one-shot. Just a quick little something.

——-

The lab was filled with the soft hum of machines and the sound of chalk against the blackboard, but to you, it felt like everything had faded into the background. You had been staring at the same equation for what felt like hours, barely blinking as your mind raced to solve the problem that had been plaguing you for days.

The equation was complex—far more than you had expected—but you were so close now. You could feel it. You just needed that one last piece, that one final adjustment to make everything click.

Your lab partner, Jayce, stood across the room, absentmindedly flipping through a stack of papers, his usual confidence radiating even in his quiet moments. He was focused, yes, but you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes often flicked over to you—subtle, quick, but undeniably there. The way he leaned a little closer when he was talking, the way his smile lingered just a second too long. You weren’t imagining it.

And for the longest time, you’d told yourself you were imagining it. That this thing—whatever it was—between you and Jayce was just your mind playing tricks, but tonight? Tonight, you weren’t so sure anymore.

The air was charged between you both, heavy with unspoken words, and you felt your heart race every time his gaze lingered on you. It wasn’t just the work that had you distracted—it was him.

"Any luck over there?" Jayce called, his voice pulling you back to the present.

You glanced up at him, biting your lip. "I think I’m so close, Jayce," you said, your voice breathless with the excitement of discovery. "I just need to adjust this last part. If I get it right, I think I can stabilize the energy flow."

He raised an eyebrow, pushing off the counter and walking toward you. "You’re saying you’ve got it?" There was a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but his eyes were serious, focused on you.

You nodded, stepping closer to the board, pacing as you ran through the calculations in your head. You could almost hear the pieces of the puzzle falling into place, the satisfying click of the solution that had been evading you for so long. You could feel the rush of success just around the corner.

Jayce stood behind you now, his proximity sending a strange warmth rushing through you. "You sure about this?" he asked, his voice low, and a little too close for comfort.

You glanced back at him, your breath catching as you realized just how close he was. The two of you had spent hours working side by side, but tonight felt different. Tonight, it felt like you could finally feel the weight of every glance, every lingering touch, every moment when his hand brushed yours as you passed a tool between you.

"I—I’m sure," you said, trying to focus, but finding it difficult when his eyes were fixed on you with that same intensity. "I just need to…"

You paused, your heart racing again. You needed to finish this. You *had* to. Your hand was shaking slightly as you reached for the chalk to make the final adjustment. But before you could complete the equation, you froze.

There it was. The answer.

"I did it," you whispered in disbelief, staring at the board. "I did it!"

Jayce’s eyes lit up in response. "You’re kidding!" He stepped closer, his voice rising with excitement. "Wait—let me see it."

You moved aside, still in a daze as he examined the board, the equation you had just cracked. You could hear him muttering to himself as he read it over, nodding in amazement.

"This is—it’s genius, [Y/N]!" His voice was filled with awe, but there was something more there too. Something deeper. "This could solve everything."

Your pulse quickened at his words. You could hardly contain the rush of pride, but something else was bubbling up inside you too. You turned to face him, meeting his gaze, and suddenly, everything felt too close, too perfect, and yet so right.

And then, before you could stop yourself, the words were out.

"I couldn’t have done it without you." You said it before you could think, and when you saw his expression soften, it felt like you had just crossed some invisible line that neither of you had dared approach before.

Jayce blinked, then smiled. It was soft, but genuine. His eyes softened even more. "You know, [Y/N], you’ve always been amazing. I—" He stopped, his words trailing off, and for a moment, there was only silence between you two.

The space between you seemed to shrink. You could hear your own breath, feel the beating of your heart in your chest, louder than ever. And just like that, in the very same instant that the weight of the breakthrough finally hit you both, Jayce did the last thing you expected.

He grabbed you by the waist and lifted you off the ground in a swift motion, spinning you around with excitement.

You gasped, your hands flying to his shoulders to steady yourself as you laughed, the thrill of the moment carrying you both. The sheer spontaneity of it made you dizzy—not just from the excitement of the breakthrough, but from how it felt to be in his arms, so effortlessly close.

"YES!" he shouted, lifting you higher as he spun you in circles. "You did it, [Y/N]! This is huge!"

You laughed breathlessly, dizzy from the combination of his spinning and your excitement. When he finally stopped, your feet landed back on the ground, but Jayce didn’t let go. He kept you close, his hands still on your waist, his face lit with that same infectious grin.

You both stood there, catching your breath, the joy of the moment sinking in. And then, as if drawn by the same current, Jayce leaned in—quickly, impulsively, his lips crashing into yours in a kiss that was as sudden and spontaneous as everything else between you two.

You froze at first, stunned by the suddenness of it, but then all the tension you’d been holding inside melted away. This was it. This was what you’d been avoiding for weeks, for months. The spark that had been building between you both was finally igniting.

His hands moved to cup your face, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, and you responded instinctively, wrapping your arms around his neck, your heart racing in time with his.

When you pulled back, breathless and a little dazed, Jayce’s forehead rested against yours, both of you still trying to process what had just happened. His hands remained on your waist, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and… something else. Something softer.

"Well… that was unexpected," you said, laughing softly, though your voice still held a little disbelief.

Jayce grinned, his eyes still sparkling with excitement. "Yeah, well… I couldn’t hold back anymore." He laughed, a little sheepishly, as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "You’ve had me on edge for weeks, [Y/N]."

You smiled, your heart fluttering. "I think I’ve had the same problem."

Jayce chuckled, pulling you closer once more, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle kiss. "Well, I’m glad we’re both on the same page now."

"Me too," you whispered, your heart racing in the best possible way. "This… this is only the beginning."

He grinned, that same mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Oh, I know. And I’ve got a lot of ideas for our next breakthrough."

And for the first time, you felt like you didn’t need to worry about the future or the uncertainty between you two. It was all clear now. The equation, the breakthrough, the feelings that had been building between you both—it was all coming together. And this time, there was no holding back.

[goshikisbaee]

The weight of his love ❤︎

[ Wakatoshi Ushijima x reader ]

content: Fluff

———

The sound of sneakers scuffing against the pavement filled the silence between you. The cool evening air had settled comfortably, crisp against your skin as you walked beside Ushijima. He was quiet, as always, his expression unreadable as he gazed forward.

You were used to his silences. They weren’t cold or distant—just the way he was. He didn’t fill space with unnecessary words, didn’t speak unless he has something worth saying. Some might find it intimidating, but you had learned to read the subtle things: the way his fingers would sometimes brush against yours as you walked, the slow blinks when he listened intently, the way he always matched his pace to yours without thinking.

Tonight, though, something felt off.

He had been more rigid than usual, shoulders squared, jaw set, his gaze focussed on something far beyond the path in front of him. You recognized this version of Ushijima—the one who carried the weight of expectations, who buried frustration beneath layers of discipline and control.

you bumped your shoulder lightly against his, breaking the quiet. “You’re thinking too hard.”

he blinked, finally looking at you. “Am I?”

you gave him a knowing smile. “You get this look when you’re overthinking. Like you’re trying to solve a puzzle with no solution.”

He exhaled through his nose, almost like a sigh, but not quite. “It’s nothing.”

it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. Ushijima wasn’t one to share burdens easily. He carried things alone, not because he didn’t trust you, but because he didn’t always know how to share them.

so you didn’t press. Instead, you reached for his hand, slipping your fingers between his. His palm was warm, rough from years of training, and for a moment, he just stared at your hands before curling his fingers around yours.

his grip was firm. Steady.

a quiet reassurance.

you thought that would be the end of it—that whatever was weighing on him, he’d let it go, or at least tuck it away for another day. But then, as you neared the front steps of your apartment, he stopped walking.

Before you could turn to ask why, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you firmly against his chest.

It was sudden.

You stiffened in surprise—not because you didn’t want it, but because Ushijima was not the type for spontaneous displays of affection. His touches were always deliberate, his affections carefully measured. But this? This felt like instinct.

“…Ushijima?” You murmured, tilting your head up, but he didn’t let go.

His embrace was solid, unshakable, like a fortress around you. One of his hands rested against the small of your back, the other pressing between your shoulder blades, anchoring you to him. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, the slow, controlled breaths he was taking.

“Just… stay like this for a moment,” he finally said, voice quiet, almost hesitant.”

Your heart softened at his words. You could count the number of times he’d asked for something outright on one hand. He wasn’t someone who needed constant reassurance, but this—this was different.

You wrapped your arms around him in return, pressing your cheek against the fabric of his jacket. “Okay.”

He didn’t say anything else, just held you there, his body solid and warm against yours.

And in that moment, you understood.

Ushijima didn’t need words to express himself. His love was in the way he stood by you, in the quiet moments you shared, in the way he held on when he needed you close.

And right now, he needed you.

So you stayed.

Because for Ushijima, a hug wasn’t just a hug.

It was trust. It was love. It was everything

———

[creepyclothdoll]

Condemned

Paul loved escape rooms. 

He just loved them. The lovingly-crafted set designs and props, the electric buzz that came from finding hidden items and putting together puzzle pieces, the euphoria of cracking a code, the adrenaline of the ticking clock, and most importantly, the thrill of the escape. 

His friends had long ago stopped accompanying him every week, sometimes more than once a week, to escape rooms in his area. Especially once he started driving hours out of town just to try new escape game centers for a fresh hit of that delicious escape puzzle challenge.

Paul now preferred to go alone anyway. People just bogged him down. He didn’t come to make friends, he came to win. 

Months of hot anticipation finally bore fruit when the “Great American Escape” opened its doors to him, at long last. Great American, according to the billboards and posters strewn around town, was the primary attraction of an entertainment mega-complex which took the place of a long-disused waterpark hotel. It would be huge, he knew. Not just physically. His great fear was that it would blow up on social media– maybe even on his feed– and then the solutions would be spoiled for him. So he had to be first.

Great American Escape was so new the day he strode in there that there were still “CONDEMNED” notices stuffed into the recycling bins and old lists of health & safety violations stuck in the vents. 

“One ticket for Mystery Escape,” Paul, slapped his money on the counter and smiled at the teen boy working behind it. He was a short, lithe, wide-eyed man in his thirties with dark greasy hair and one navy blue university sweater he’d kept in moderate repair for a decade and a half.

“No group?” The boy asked. When Paul confirmed this, the boy said, “You’ll have to wait until a group comes in. You need three people at least.”

“When is the next group coming?” Paul asked.

“We don’t have any groups booked today,” the boy replied.

“... So, you’re not gonna let me in?” 

“... Um… yeah. I can’t. Sorry.”

Paul put down another handful of bills. This wasn’t his first rodeo.

“I’ll buy three tickets,” he said. He made sure to draw the boy’s attention to the extra $20, a little tip for a helpful front deskman. 

The boy, who was thin and bored-looking with a patchy teen mustache and his elbow resting on top of a stack of I Escaped stickers, glanced at the security camera which flickered in the corner, its blinking red eye frosted over with a decade of dust. The boy took the $20 and shrugged. 

“You won’t be able to escape,” the boy said. “It’s impossible by yourself. But if you want to try… I guess you can try.”

The boy led Paul towards a set of slightly rusty elevator doors, past posters and cardboard cut-outs of characters from “Rattlesnake Gulch Treasure Hunt,” “Escape From Venus,” and “King’s Dungeon Jailbreak.” Paul planned to return to these, but he’d start by going straight for the crown jewel– Mystery Escape, which had been advertised exclusively with nothing but an open doorframe leading to darkness. 

The boy went over basic safety guidelines. The door wouldn’t really be locked, red things were real alarms, things that said “staff only” were really for staff only, etc., blah blah blah, boring stuff.  Paul listened impatiently, but carefully, only because knowing what was “real” (and therefore inconsequential) would give him a leg up in the game. 

“The game starts when the elevator door opens,” the boy finally said. “Floor 3. Good luck.”

The elevator bell dinged, and the doors slid open. The light flickered. Paul stepped inside. 

He waved to the boy as the doors shut. He pressed 3. 

The light above flickered. Paul could almost see his reflection in the red-rusted metal doors. 

The elevator began its ascent, and right away, Paul could tell something was strange. There was a creaking noise, like a train braking. The light flickered. The light sputtered out. 

The elevator stopped.

Paul was trapped. It was pitch black inside the tiny car, which made no sound or movement. 

The first thing Paul did in any escape room was to check around for hidden props. Keys, ciphers, and puzzle pieces were often hidden around a room for players to find, which would then give them a clue as to what to do next. Paul checked around the elevator car for hidden tools. He pulled up the mildewy carpet by its frayed edge– nothing under there but more mildew. But wait! On the bottom of the carpet there were numbers and letters: EL1. What could that possibly mean? 

The next thing Paul did in an escape room was to interact with anything interactable he could see. In front of him was a series of numbers, 1-5, a “door open” and “door close” button, and “emergency.” But “emergency” was red, and red things were inconsequential. 

Paul pushed all the buttons but the last. To his surprise, the door began to open slightly– then jammed. 

Paul mused about the possible meanings of “EL1.” E was the fifth letter, and there were five numbers… But L? 

Maybe it was a cipher. Paul thought on this. 

He started trying combinations of buttons. The cipher thing was the key somehow, he knew it. A cipher worked with a code. Where was the code? Maybe it had to do with the symbols, not the numbers…

Suddenly, it all made sense to him. He pressed a set of numbers and then hit the door open button.

To his delight and satisfaction, the elevator doors creaked open. And with them came light.

Paul could see well enough now to see that he faced a concrete wall, which took up the whole lower half of the exit. But above that half, Paul could see a hallway of a hotel, so tantalizingly close. 

Paul had beaten escape rooms that had physical components to them before, so this was cake. He gripped the edge of the concrete ledge in front of him and pulled himself up. He let out a grunt as his head and arms made it over the threshold. He just had to find something to grip so he could drag the rest of himself through the gap, and then it was on to the next puzzle.

The elevator lurched.

There was a sound. A scrape, a crash, a wet squelch, a snap. It all happened at once, and it was the loudest sound he ever heard.

When Paul finally sat up, he was somewhere completely different. It was dark here. Darker than the elevator car. The darkness of this place was crushing, like the depths of the deep ocean. There was a smell of meat all around. Paul quickly dismissed the idea of trying to adjust his eyes– he’d navigate by feel.

Paul reached out into the darkness and felt nothing. He stood. His hands pushed him up from a strangely soft, lumpy floor. He noticed something strange about the sound of his movements, and let out an inquisitive “Hey!” to check the echo. It did not bounce. He was… outside?

No– he must be in the disused waterpark proper. The building was huge. Paul was delighted by this thought. He’d chosen the right room.

Paul felt around for a wall, a light switch, a puzzle. Anything. 

“Abandon all hope, ye who enter here,” said a deep voice.

“Hello?” Paul said after a moment. 

“You lived a selfish life, Paul. You cared for nothing and no one but yourself and your own pleasure. You were an idolater, a heretic. You raised the Escape Game to the heights of a god. Pity that from this place, there is no escape.”

Paul listened carefully to the monologue. Selfish. Idolater. Raised. Heights. These things might be clues. 

“Paul,” said the deep voice, which seemed to come from above, below, and all around him, “You died a foolish death. Pity that you did not suffer. But now, you will suffer for eternity.”

Paul was already climbing up a staircase he’d found. It was the disused waterpark. Raise, he thought. Heights. The key was to go up. 

He found a craggy, warm wall. There was something under his hand– a button? He pushed it in, hard.

Under his hand, a huge glowing red eye flew open. 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH!” 

The eye blinked in pain and fury, welling up with tears. A thousand more eyes flew open along the wall before him, and Paul saw that it was not a wall at all, but some kind of enormous creature. It stirred, its red gaze illuminating the space around them.

“Stupid man. You woke something up.”

But now Paul could see the entire room– or space, or whatever it was. What he’d taken to be the “floor” was a mass of flesh– human hands, it looked like, reaching up stiffly. The hands started to stir as the creature woke from its slumber. What Paul had taken for a staircase was not that. 

Paul was making some real progress. As the hands clamored over each other, rising like tentacles from around the immense eyes, Paul hopped onto the face of the thing and started using the eyes as hand-and-footholds, which was their obvious use. Paul could spare no time on figuring out little things like that the honest way, he was on a clock. As he stepped on the creature’s eyes, it let out another unearthly roar and started to rise. 

There was a hole in the ceiling. Yes– this was meant to be a cave of some sort, and it had an exit. 

“You idiot,” the voice boomed. “You–”

Paul kicked the creature in the eye a few more times to make it rise faster. A tsunami of pale, writhing hands on wiggling stems shot up towards him to slap him away, but by the time they reached him, he was already through the hole. 

Paul scurried through the tunnel as fast as he could. If it was a three-person puzzle, you couldn’t waste any time.

He came to the next room, which was well-lit– a nice reprieve. In this room, a sweltering cave, some props department had gone all-out carving little demon faces that stuck out from the sides. These gargoyle-like stone structures leered at him and grinned in anticipation.

“The flametongue is coming, kindling,” the demon voices hissed. “Ready or not!” Paul heard a splashing, gurgling sound up ahead. He took quick note of some of the quirks of the gargoyle faces– most of them had black scorch marks on them, but some didn’t. That was a clue. The light from the other end of the tunnel grew brighter, as did the gurgling. Paul realized what he was meant to do, climbed up the protesting gargoyles, and found a set on the ceiling which had no scorching on them. Below, a wave of red-hot boiling sulferous-smelling magma flowed down, passing over the other gargoyles, who screeched and sputtered in it. Another puzzle solved. Paul dropped down once the stones cooled, and hurried up the tunnel– no time to spare. Only one more wave of “fire” passed before he solved the gargoyle pattern and pulled the right ones out of the wall in sequence to reveal a hidden exit.

This escape room was huge. He made his way through a room which featured a river of moving knives, which he was able to avoid by memorizing the timing and patterns, and climbed up into a room full of blistering ice and animatronic zombies which lurched toward him, their bodies crackling as they froze just as soon as they’d moved, their lips split by the cold. This puzzle was a simple matter of lining up the giant shards of ice in the room so that the light concentrated and blasted a hole through the glacial wall. 

Paul’s own body was profoundly frostbitten by this point, but he didn’t notice. He was on a timer. 

By the time Paul finally made it past the “three-headed-dog on a chain” puzzle, that subterranean voice from the first room had caught up with him.

“Paul,” the voice said. “There is no hope. There is no escape. Do you understand? You are dead, Paul–”

“Ssh,” Paul said, gazing at the puzzle before him. 

The door was immense. It seemed to stretch above him and beyond for miles. It was carved from stone older than the bedrock of earth, and above it, in an arch as large as the firmament, there was carved a phrase:

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

This was clearly important, because the deep voice had already voiced it earlier in the game. After checking the area for tools, Paul ran through anagrams. There were a lot of little props around the big door– lots of discarded holy texts, some bones, some strange bits of giant insectoid carapaces which Paul could not immediately identify. The bibles and such had bits burned and torn off of them in places. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. That was a ciper, maybe. He was sweating. He had to be at nearly an hour already. He started arranging the bones.

“What you are doing is futile nonsense,” the deep voice said.

Aha! By turning the phrase above the gate into numbers and then matching those numbers to the non-burned sections of each holy text, organized by the printing date, Paul had discovered an anagram which, when re-ordered, spelled out skeleton key prop, ds flo knemb yyuq. Paul had only bothered to spell out the first three words, however, due to the time crunch. That was all he needed to understand what to do, and he had done it: he had connected all the bones into one big key.

“I don’t think you understand, Paul. This is not a game. You cannot escape your fate. You cannot escape your death. You cannot escape damnation. You cannot escape from Hell.”

Paul slid the giant skeleton key into the lock. It took all of his strength to shove it to the back. Behind him, the host of hell scrambled over each other up the lip of the abyss– the thousand hands and eyes, the fire-spitting gargoyles, the lurching ice zombies, the great black dog, and many others, come to claim him for their own special torment.

Paul turned the key. There was a click. 

Well– more of a thunderous clunk.

The deep, gravelly noise of the stone door opening reverberated all throughout Hell.

“What the–”

“Hell yeah!” Paul shouted. He ducked through the door.

The red eye of the security camera caught it all. The man, crawling through the gap in the elevator. The lurch. The fall. The split.

The hopeless paramedics, the traumatized front desk boy, the shaking venue manager, the anxious lawyers, the dozens of police putting up brand-new yellow “do not cross” signage around the old hotel. 

The red eye of the security camera watched on as people in grim uniforms put the larger piece of what had been paul into a black bodybag and fetched the rest from the third story floor. 

“Used to love this waterpark when I was a little kid,” said one of the paramedics to another. “Now I hope they tear it down.”

“Wasn’t this place a lawsuit magnet back in the day?” said the other. “I remember a kid–”

The paramedics both noticed at the same moment that the body bag was moving. A lot. 

“Is he alive in there?” The first paramedic choked out, even though he understood that the answer had to be no. But then the zipper started sliding down. The bag was opening from the inside.

The headless body of Paul Gibson sat up. It reached out with its stumps of fingers, covered in cool dark blood, and rolled out onto the hotel lobby floor. Both paramedics screamed and leapt away as the decapitated Paul stumbled to its feet and lurched forward. It felt around without its fingers, leaving smears of blood on the front desk, the wall, the table, the “do not cross” tape, until it found the small white cooler on the floor. He pried it open with his mangled hands and lifted his own iced head out. 

Paul put his head on top of the gristle that was his neck. He had it the wrong way around, but his eyes opened and he smiled through bloody teeth. 

“I ss-ss-olved the b-a-ag puzzle,” the formerly dead man sputtered. “Did it a-all mys-self.”

He turned around to face both paramedics, so that his front side faced away. 

“Uh… congratulations,” the second paramedic said.

Paul choked up more blood and grinned wider. He stumbled toward the front desk, toward the paramedics. They backed away from him in horror as he reached out the wrong way and grabbed a commemorative I Escaped! sticker from the top of the pile.

“Th-a-ank you,” Paul said. “I’ll be su-ure to come back soon!”

[shizuturnspages]

Yandere Sumeru boys headcannons

Alhaitham

❥ Alhaitham is a logical, rational asshole. But that’s exactly what makes him a terrifying yandere. He doesn’t go for the crazed, irrational shit. No, he's cold, clinical, and he will plan every damn move like he’s playing fucking chess with your life. You're a puzzle he has to solve, and the solution? Oh, it's him. Always. No fucking escape.

❥ In Alhaitham's mind, once he's figured you out, that’s it. No one else deserves to even fucking look at you. His understanding of you is so complete that it becomes his sole justification for controlling every aspect of your life. He knows what’s best for you, even better than you do. He will cut off your ties to others in subtle ways, leaving you wondering how the hell you became so isolated. Oh, it was him, sweetheart.

❥ This dude’s not gonna stab someone in broad daylight like some psycho—he’s a fucking genius. He’ll use your own thoughts against you. He’ll subtly gaslight you into believing no one else is as capable of understanding you like he does. You’ll start to think maybe he’s the only one who truly gets you, and by the time you realise what’s happening, it's too late. You’re trapped in his web.

❥ Alhaitham would be the kind of yandere who sabotages your other relationships without you even knowing it. Oh, your friend suddenly moved away? Strange. That one guy who liked you stopped talking to you out of nowhere? Weird, huh? He’ll always be there to comfort you, his stoic mask hiding the fact that he's orchestrating every single one of your problems just so he can fix them.

❥ Alhaitham’s biggest strength as a yandere is his ability to keep his shit together. You’ll never see him snap, never see him lose his cool. But the second you try to leave him? Fucking hell breaks loose. He’ll track you down using logic and strategy like you’re nothing but a lost book in his library. And when he finds you? Oh, he’ll make sure you never even think about running again.

Cyno

❥ Cyno is all about justice. Well, that translates to some next-level protection for you. But not the cute kind. We're talking "anyone who looks at you wrong is gonna fucking disappear" kind of protection. He’ll see himself as your personal guardian, and no one—and I mean no one—gets to mess with you. He doesn’t care if you think it’s creepy; he knows what's best. Fuck your opinion.

❥ This guy’s got a black-and-white sense of right and wrong, and guess what? You’re always right in his eyes. But everyone else? They’re a threat. He’ll punish anyone who comes near you, ‘cause in his twisted sense of justice, they’re infringing on what’s his. He’ll never let you out of his sight because that would be “irresponsible” on his part. Yeah, he’s doing it for your “safety,” but really, it's all about keeping you locked down.

❥ Cyno is fiercely loyal, and as a yandere, this loyalty becomes suffocating as fuck. He doesn’t know how to do things halfway. You are his, and that’s not up for debate. You don’t get to leave, you don’t get to argue. He’ll follow you everywhere, even if you don’t want him to, always showing up like some shadow you can never fucking shake. And trust me, he won’t tolerate anyone trying to come between you two. That’s a death sentence.

❥ Oh, he loves his jokes, right? Well, as a yandere, he’ll still joke, but those jokes come with a deadly edge. You piss him off? He’ll laugh it off with some dark humor, but you can feel the unspoken threat in every word. And if someone other than him crosses you? Cyno’s “justice” is swift, brutal, and final. There’s no trial, no second chance—just his fucked up sense of justice.

❥ Cyno’s got that chill, deadpan vibe most of the time, but holy shit, when he cares about something—or someone—he becomes intense as fuck. If you ever tried to leave or betray him, that calm exterior would fucking crack. He’d hunt you down like he’s enforcing divine judgment, and there’s no place you could hide. His cold, calculated demeanor makes him even more dangerous because you’ll never see that rage coming until it’s too fucking late.

Tighnari

❥ Tighnari’s a fucking genius when it comes to the wilderness. You think you can run from him? Oh, hell no. He’ll use the forest itself to keep you in line. Poisonous plants? Deadly traps? Oh, he’s got all that shit covered. He’s not gonna let you leave his side, and if you try, well… let’s just say the forest has a funny way of making people disappear.

❥ Tighnari’s soft-spoken and gentle on the surface, right? But underneath that shit is a fucking possessive streak you won’t believe. He’s always making sure you’re “okay,” and by okay, he means under his control. He’ll play the caring, concerned partner, using his knowledge of herbs and remedies to keep you close, always “healing” you when you don’t even realise you’re being fucking poisoned. Yeah, he’s got that soft look, but it hides something twisted.

❥ Tighnari’s a smart fucker, no doubt about that. He’ll use his intelligence to gaslight the hell out of you. Oh, you think those berries made you sick? Nah, you’re just paranoid. He’ll make you second-guess every fucking thing, twisting your reality until you can’t even trust your own instincts. He’ll be your only reliable source of “truth,” and by then, he’s got you trapped—mentally and physically.

❥ Tighnari’s got a bond with the forest, so you’re basically under its watchful eye too. He’ll set up barriers—physical and psychological—using his connection to nature to always know where you are. The animals? They’re his spies. You try to run? He’ll know before you even take a damn step. And when he catches you? Oh, he’ll smile that gentle smile, reminding you that there’s no place you can hide from him in his territory.

❥ As a caretaker, Tighnari will spoil you, but it comes with a price. He’ll shower you with attention, making sure you’re always “healthy” and “happy,” but his version of care is suffocating as fuck. He’ll control your meals, your sleep, even your thoughts, all under the guise of concern. You wanna leave? Nah, he’ll convince you that the outside world is too dangerous, and only he can keep you safe.

Kaveh

❥ Kaveh’s a sensitive soul. Well, as a yandere, he’s all over the place emotionally. One minute he’s showering you with affection, and the next? Oh, he’s guilt-tripping the hell out of you. You’re his muse, his reason for living, but if you so much as look at someone else? Boom—he’s spiraling into jealous rants, throwing himself into emotional breakdowns that leave you feeling like you’re responsible for his sanity.

❥ Kaveh’s creative mind would turn his obsession into something artistic, but it’s got a creepy edge. He’ll draw, paint, and sculpt you over and over again, but it’s not flattering—it’s fucking eerie. His art becomes a shrine to you, and he’ll get pissed if you don’t appreciate it the way he expects. And God forbid you question why every piece makes you look like you’re trapped. Oh, he’ll say you “just don’t get the meaning.”

❥ Kaveh’s not the type to outright control you at first; no, he’ll do it through passive-aggressive manipulation. He’ll guilt-trip you into staying by his side, making you feel like if you leave, you’re abandoning him in his time of need. He’ll make you feel like he needs you more than you need him, and before you know it, you’re stuck in this cycle of constantly trying to make him feel better while he wraps his twisted little vines around your life.

❥ Kaveh’s been broke before. So now that he’s got his shit together, he’ll use that financial stability as a way to control you. He’ll act like he’s helping you out, offering to take care of your needs, but it’s all part of his fucking plan to make you dependent on him. The more you rely on him, the more he’ll tighten his grip, using guilt and money as tools to bind you. And if you try to break free? He’ll remind you how much he’s done for you.

❥ Kaveh’s the type who’d make everything symbolic. Every moment, every gift, every glance—he’ll attach deep, emotional meanings to shit you don’t even think about. He’ll remember every little detail about your life, and if you ever try to leave, he’ll throw it all back in your face. “How could you forget that time we shared [random moment]?” He’ll weaponize memories, making you feel like leaving him would be the ultimate betrayal.

[reshinless]

──── ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა day 3: rock my world !﹒⟢﹒

ᯓ★ ── . summ. in which you were offered a job by your highschool bsf, geto, to be the manager of their newest rockstar boy band cursed souls; but they're a little short of money this time.

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ director's note. bye not me deleting this the first time..

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ pairings. sukuna, suguru, and choso x gn!afab!reader separately + tgt

ᯓ★ ── . warnings. nsfw, filming, foursome, masterbation-ish.

"sugu— can we even.. are you even listening?!" you watch as your best friend geto simply chuckle at you furrowing your brows at him. "this is serious! and i'm concerned as your manager and as your friend." you crossed your arms, a subtle scoff escaped your lips.

he simply shrugged and leaned back into his seat. "look— pretty.. you shouldn't worry too much about it." tuning the bass guitar in his calloused palms, scars scattered across on his forearms. you can't believe you accepted this job..

"you two! come on, suggest something for funding your next concert. this is for you guys, not me." the loud, blaring sound of music plays outside, "and 5 minutes 'till you guys go onstage. and take it seriously this time, 'kuna." you glance over to choso, and sukuna who're getting ready to perform in front of their fans.

"yeah yeah, whatever we know." sukuna simply scoffed at you, picking up his electric guitar and throws the two drumsticks into choso's hands. "right. we'll do our best, don't worry." a breath of relief exits your throat.

after a long duration of time, of coffee and napping— seems as if they finally finished, waving off to their fans and walking backstage. "great job, guys. but we still haven't figured out a stable source of our money. or at least we aren't getting any revenue. what do you think will be our solution to that?"

sukuna was the leader of the 3 person band— claiming the title of most biased among the trio as well. and understandably as well, he certainly had a charm to himself. and definitely looked like he could treat you right (in bed). one time when you were leaving your apartment complex, you spotted sukuna an apartment away. he just hadn't recognized you in the uniform you used today... he was just waiting at a different door.. he lives here?

he walked inside, hands still in his pocket. you shrugged it off, not thinking too much of it. until you see the next day you leave for manager work, your neighbor is limping the next day.

it was quite similar to the time you ran into an old classmate, briefly watching her as she went home after you drop her off; but.. seeing suguru there wasn't something you were expecting.

it looked like he took his.. shirt off.. and headed off to where she described her bedroom to be. huh.. okay. probably a regular occurrence. but maybe what you saw a week later is a shock.

neither did you expect the shock of seeing choso with someone in the bathroom of the party. you never took him to be the party kind in all honesty- but he was there, what can you do.

he was fucking a pretty girl so good she turned dumb! sounds familiar. her sounds echoed even into the mere hallway you roamed to while attempting to find another bathroom. you'd definitely be lying if you said it didn't turn you on.

especially when you realize he moans your name instead of the girl's when it comes to his sloppy thrusts. did he know you accidentally passed by? did he know that you saw the way you gripped her waist, and fuck her like it was you instead?

probably not.

"hey— are you okay? did you get hurt?" you offered a hand to your neighbor, as she almost slipped trying to get her parcel. "ah? i'm quite fine, don't worry. please.." you shook your head, ringing her arm around your shoulders, picking up the package for her, and helping her inside. "did you get injured? i didn't see you go out yesterday.."

you were puzzled at first, but piecing everything together.. sukuna definitely had a fling with her, she mentioned how she was stressed from work last week, and you can only guess who came over, and got her limping. (spoiler its sukuna.)

it could be the way choso groaned your name, even if it was just simple dry humping.. he moaned.. your name.. the loud plop plop plop of his cock definitely coaxed an orgasm out of the poor girl.

or maybe you remembered the scene of overhearing suguru fuck a girl so good in his room- against the door. you could feel how rough he was with her against the door. small mumbles of your name were hear- your name?

"hey. manager." you're snapped out of your thoughts. "huh?— what's wrong? did something happen?" you turn to him with your body fully. "i appreciate your concern, but we have to talk." he looked a lot more serious than before.

dragging you by your arm— his hold was a lot more gentle than you thought. you could feel his hand tense a little as he brought you to the side. "you said we needed.. a money solution since the agency isn't giving anything right now, right?" "mhm. you have one?"

huh. getting fucked by all 3 of them at the same time? on film? was not on your bucketlist but you weren't gonna complain. every other man that has tried to make you climax has failed. terribly.

"..you were really serious?" he walked over to you, placing a blindfold over your pretty little eyes. "mmm— you bet i was." sukuna who looks over to choso, "we'll give you a little surprise."

wherein you were sat up on the bed, your back getting supported by sukuna, who was massaging your chest, toying with your nipples, but mostly concentrating leaving marks all over your collarbone. as choso moaned, the thought of finally getting to eat you out got him hard as hell.

one hand on the soft plush of your thigh, and the other slowly stroked his cock, hearing the way you'd moan, slightly pulling on his hair. "mmf— 'k-kuna.. who's between my.. legs right now.." "how about you guess, pretty?"

one of sukuna's hands snake to work right above where choso was. eating you out had to be the best thing you've experienced as far as you were into the night.

as you massaged choso scalp, you could tell it was him (he's the only one who was really really silky smooth hair). "haah.. choso.. s'good— doing so good.." you whine as he continued to lap your juices up, not caring whether or not this was 'just for the money'. he's definitely going to make the most of it.

too late to back out, especially when sukuna has a leg over his shoulder, his cheek leaning onto your thigh, watching how pretty your expressions were, the way your entrance reacted to his length. "damn— sweetheart you're tight.." his nails marking crescent shapes on your waist, your body covered in sweat, he definitely was a lot better than those losers back in college.

"ahhn- suku- i can't take it!" you try to close your legs, but the strong grip on your thigh pries it back open. sukuna simply chortles "I know you can, c'mon.. for me?"

watching how your tummy would bulge, watching your hole take in all of his girth at once, loud squelching echoes in the room, looking over to the camera in the corner every now and then. as you were laid down on the mattress, your eyes were close shut until you started to feel hands over chest, rolling your nipples between their fingers. it was geto, as you felt that little scar on your body, you immediately recognized it, and eyebrows knitting in pleasure

"a-ahh— fffuck! t'much, wait!" the way they both were overstimulating you felt great, and overwhelming (in a good way) at the same time. feeling your body flush into his touch. "ah.. uhuh? what was that, pretty?" sukuna looked at you mockingly, teasingly putting one of his hands over your stomach to feel his cock inside you.

"but you don't really want me to stop do you?" you didn't give a reply, ashamed to admit that you really did want him to continue.

"good cumslut." "c'mon, you're taking me so well." are the compliments(?) you heard throughout the time that he fucked your hole, he lifted your hips a little to get a better view, the hand previously holding your other thigh trails over your clit, rubbing it at the same speed his strokes went at

"ssshit- f- ffuck i'm g'na-!" without warning, sukuna finally lands his last hit into you, penetrating your g-spot so well, making you arch your back in pleasure, about to fall over, before geto supports your back, still rubbing your chest, landing his head in the crook of your neck.

"such a dirty manager, aren't you?" he teases, still rolling your nipple around with his fingers, as sukuna grabbed your hips nearly the same time you came; feeling his load pump all up into your stomach.

you couldn't lie- if this wasn't for the money, you probably would've agreed anyway. especially when your long-term crush (being your best friend of 8-ish years) finally fucks you into seeing stars.

without much thought, he flips you over onto your stomach, while your ass is up in the air, letting your face sit in the cushions below you. the sound of skin slapping only made your hole throb more. feeling his thick length get sucked in by your pussy.

"s- sugu'!" you could barely speak of his name, let alone any other words than slow down.

the camera stopped recording awhile ago.

as you woke up the next morning, you received almost 5 calls, oh- another one just now- what's with all the calls?!

"yes- hello?" ... "yeah this is them." ... "my offer for the venue's been accepted?! oh my gosh! yeah totally! today will work out just fine!"

turns out they (sukuna, choso, suguru) had the money all along though :)

dunno i just wanted an excuse to write about 3 of them in one go

[amaranthineghost]

| DARLING, OUR STARS ARE DYING, BUT WE'VE STILL YEARS LEFT TO BURN ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairing: lando x reader

ꕥ parts: 2

ꕥ summary: their relationship is dying while their love burns strong, yet they're unsure if they can save themselves.

ꕥ authors note: I have an idea for a part two, so if anyone wants a continuation of what happens, let me know :3

ꕥ warnings: it's just sad. minor implications of sex, but mostly angst and heartbreak.

SOMETHING WAS WRONG. they hadn't known what, but something was off in their relationship. for years, they'd loved each other, and no doubt they still did. they'd spent every waking moment they could with each other, but they hadn't realized their relationship had grown stale, unchanging for years.

it puzzled them because the love they had for each other still burned strong, but their relationship is dying.

they'd find themselves spending less time with their lover, more time with their friends in separate nightclubs across monaco. though their relationship lacked excitement, they would never seek it out in other people. because at the end of the day, they'd find their way home, drunkenly stumbling through the door of their apartment and back into each other's arms.

they found themselves depending less on the other for entertainment and companionship. their love wasn't dead, but their relationship felt like it.

when sitting right next to each other at the dinner table changed to sitting at opposite ends. when they'd make a mess in the kitchen to cook a dinner to share between them changed to making separate meals at different times.

though they were still young, it felt like life had finally caught them as they got entangled in their careers. he traveled the world, she stayed in the comfort of their apartment. maybe it was lacking. lacking the naivety of their youth that created the spark of their relationship.

because when he was home for odd weeks during the year, he was always out. from the crack of dawn till the sun set on the other side of the sky, he'd be out exercising with his trainer, having dinners with his team, or just clubbing.

and she'd barely attend his races now, her presence unseen in the paddock, causing numerous rumors to surface and plague the internet. because when they'd be seen in public together, which was a rare occurrence now, they wouldn't have a single touch to connect them.

the internet had realized their status before they had. nobody knew why they'd changed, not even the couple that had been through thick and thin. they couldn't imagine being apart, but it was like they were bored.

they didn't know what to do. they'd been through countless struggles together, finding solutions in the dark. but they had no flame to light their path this time.

it killed them. they wanted so badly to revive their love, but they didn't know how. they knew they needed to talk, but they were never around anymore. they didn't even sleep in the same bed as one another.

it was often they could find themselves with eyes wandering their wall with pictures framed, a few crooked that she would pester and nag him to no end to fix. he never would. the imperfect perfectness every time he looked between their faces, eyes crinkled with smiles caused a sad one to take it's form on his face.

he missed the memories between them because they were that, memories. they'd never do anything like that now. no ski trips where he'd spray her with snow with every stop, with her cursing him out all in good fun. because she'd do it right back.

no more lying on beach towels next to each other in the sun, getting tan, though she told lando he never needed to. and every time without fail, he'd take her sunscreen, squirting odd shapes onto her back that'd be displayed for weeks. she'd always slap him for it.

they didn't go out anymore. any attempts to relive what they once experienced were futile. they tried fancy restaurants, but silence with high tension plagued the air around them as they ate awkwardly.

because now it felt like they were back to square one. when he claimed to know her like the back of his hand, he wouldn't be so sure now. it was like they didn't know who they were anymore. they stopped talking to each other because they'd given up. there wasn't anything they could do.

she'd been on their couch, aimlessly flicking through countless tv channels. her eyes weren't even on the screen, and her hand was on autopilot while she channel-surfed. she'd let out another sigh, her eyes rolling over to his office door.

it was ajar, she could see movement from inside the room. she looked longing at it. she remembered when she'd distract him from his work, placing herself in different spots around the room, but ultimately ending up on his desk.

her eyes adjusted back to the tv, shutting it off and tossing the remote somewhere on the couch. she sat in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of him living in another world just ten steps away. because their relationship had gotten to the point where it felt like they were living in different time periods that crossed each other's lives.

they'd barely focus on each other because they didn't have the time. they were never alone together anymore, always in separate rooms, or surrounded by friends.

it pained her, guilt building in her body with every step. her stomach churning with every creak in the floorboards. she walked on the tips of her toes to his office. she hovered over the door handle, despite the door being slit open.

part of her hesitated because she didn't want to do this. she didn't want to leave him, to lose him, but it felt as if she didn't have a choice. remaining a couple benefit neither of them, it only hurt what remained and what remained was merely nothing.

but he was her first love, and first everything. it felt like betrayal to turn her back now, but she's afraid their backs have been turned for months because she can't recall the last time she thought of him as her soulmate. she loved him, but was love simply enough to save them?

when she pushed open that door, she knew she'd never be the same. they wouldn't be the same and part of her was okay with that because nothing's changed. she couldn't keep living like this, she was still young. young enough to meet another person to settle with, which seemed crazy to her to think about. she'd never thought about anyone but him.

"lando, can we talk?"

the hair on the back of his neck rose, dread filling his heart. he'd been waiting to hear those words for months, every conversation, they loomed in the back of his mind. though he hated how much he expected to hear it, he knew it had to happen.

he'd turn in his swivel chair, pen nervously pushed between his lips. he looked at her sadly, already feeling the words yet to leave her lips.

"I think we should break up," her voice broke, caused by the tears that streaked down her face. she hated herself for breaking down, being vulnerable when they both knew it was coming to an end. it still hurt because despite her words, she loved him. she knew he did too.

he didn't know what to say, a simple 'okay' felt too harsh, but the tears in his eyes would've spilled if he spoke any more.

so he simply nodded, muttering something completely inaudible to her, and himself.

she shook her head, gazing at him through her hazy, tear-stained vision, her voice high in a struggled whisper, "what's wrong with us?"

"i wish i knew, darling," he slowly stood, his feet dragging across the carpet on the wooded floors. he stopped in front of her, a sad look across his face as he stared down at her. he noticed how she no longer wore his hoodies, or any of his clothes.

hesitantly, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her into his chest, he knew for the final time. he bit his tongue in hopes of not showing weakness because he didn't want to make her feel worse than she already did.

"i know i promised us we would fix this, but I don't know what to do." he muttered into her hair as he shook against her, " 'm sorry i broke my promise, love."

" 'ts okay."

"but it's not."

"i know." she pulled away, wiping her tears on her hoodie. she sniffled, her nose and eyes red while she gazed up at him, "i'll pack my things, 'ts your apartment after all."

he was quick to shut her down, shaking his head, nearly breaking down as he spoke, "no, I couldn't kick you out." because what boyfriend—ex-boyfriend would he be if he kicked her out onto the blazing streets of monaco? he couldn't do that to the girl he loved so deeply, but he knew he couldn't stay. he had to let her go and he despised it because he knew it was for the best.

"I'll stay with max," he said simply, looking at her desperately with sad eyes, "please, let me just take care of you, financially at least."

"it feels wrong to depend on you."

"i know, but 'ts the one thing I can do for us."

so he left, packed his bags and drove his mclaren far from their apartment, now hers. he looked in the rearview mirror sadly, seeing her standing in the only hoodie he'd left for her. he couldn't see the tears in her eyes, but he knew they were there like they were in his.

he nearly turned around. he wanted to fix this because he didn't want to leave her. she was all he knew and it was like starting over. it felt like betrayal to leave her and find himself in a random club across the city.

but he'd been doing that for months with no issue. it only hurt now that he didn't have an apartment to go back to with her presence residing in it.

he punched the glass of his rearview mirror because it felt like the past staring him in the face. because she should've been in his future.

[kaiser1ns]

DNA ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ AVENTURINE X FEM!READER .ᐟ our meeting is a mathematical formula, a religious law, a cosmic order. proof of the destiny given to me, you are the source of my dreams.

GO TO THE EVENT MASTERLIST

It wasn't every day that Aventurine didn't text you, call you, or send you bouquets ... and surprisingly, there wasn't a day when he didn't even send you money like he always does out of nowhere so you could spoil yourself.

Not every day was your birthday, which you so wanted to spend with him, but apparently he didn't want to. You didn't want to spend such a nice day alone, and not anywhere but Penacony — the planet of dreams, and your dream, or rather wish, was that he just be here with you. From the day the universe was born аnd beyond the infinite centuries. We were probably together in a previous life and in the next because we will be together forever… His words now sound like empty promises.

Getting up and starting to dress up, suddenly as you put on your lipstick, the bell rang which startled you so it went outside the outline of your lips and there was a big red line. Perfect, not only is your lover driving you nuts, but now your makeup is too.

You hope whoever is looking for you, brings gifts. Opening the door there was absolutely no one when you looked around until you gazed down and saw a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers as you picked them up you saw a small white envelope. Looking around one last time as you went back and placed the bouquet on the table, you unfolded the letter, and the card read the following.

This is the emotion they call love because, from the very beginning, my heart runs to you, and just like the flowers you are only blooming for me.

There was no name or signature, just this message written in very beautiful handwriting you don't recognize. But you are not that dense, it's probably from him trying to compensate somehow because it was late in the evening already and there was no trace of what you could call the man of your dreams. Or maybe he was just a dream now? You won’t be surprised if he was.

Your phone buzzed as you got a message from Dr. Ratio, a good friend of yours, telling you to meet him at a specific address. Oddly, he gives you the location as a solution to a math problem. Why the sudden need for cryptic puzzles? Solving equations is the last thing on your mind right now... but you get the answer and, having dressed up for the occasion, decide it’s worth going.

When you reach the destination, you expect to find the purple-haired genius himself—but instead, you’re greeted by someone entirely different. Your lover stands there, idly playing with a poker chip, his eyes already knowing you’re approaching. He listens to the echo of your heels, flipping the chip in the air, catching it in his hand as he finally turns to look at you.

Neither of you says a word at first. He smirks, removing his hat, What a gentleman, you thought, and takes your hand. “The game’s not over yet. Trust me, this is a guaranteed win.” With a sly smile, he places the chip in your hand. Had he really spent all day at the casino, sending flowers for practically no reason?

“Aventurine, are you serious right now?” You can't hide the anger and disappointment as you toss the chip to the ground. He just watches you, observing you intently as always. “No calls, no texts, no you all day, and then you send me flowers like it’s nothing—”

He chuckles, clearly entertained by your reaction, finding you just as adorable as ever. “What’s so funny?”

“The bigger the risk, the better the reward, darling.” His arm slides around your waist, pulling you close. It’s only then that you take in your surroundings: an elegantly decorated room with an enormous Happy Birthday sign. Every detail exudes luxury.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” he teases. For a moment, you’re speechless. And then, regaining your composure, you smack him lightly on the arm. “So, you ignored me on purpose?” He lets out a playful ow, quickly followed by his gentle laughter. “Stop laughing! Nothing about this is funny! You should be ash—”

“Don't worry, love. All of this is not a coincidence,” he says removing a strand from your hair and then gently caressing your cheek with his gloved hand, leaning in closer and you could feel the way his eyes held all the love in the whole wide world made you forget about earlier, about the reason you were mad at him in the first place, not when you closed the distance too.

“Happy Birthday, my beloved darling…” his lips finally met yours and it was like the first time you shared a kiss, love at first sight as if you were meant to be. Your meeting is a mathematical formula, a religious law, a cosmic order. Proof of the destiny given to him by the Aeons, you are the source of his dreams, the only true lovers.

©2024 kaiser1ns nineteenth birthday party.

[rieamena]

I wonder at what point in the "reboot saga" would the other cunning hares step in and help Billy? Like, on one hand you have a convenient way to stop Billy from whatever he is doing, and watching how Y/N is trying to confess without crashing him must be entertaining. On the other after crash 65 it must get worrying :/

finally!—

the first few crashes had been amusing, a source of lighthearted teasing among the group. you’d attempt to confess, and billy, ever the charismatic and responsive robot, would suddenly freeze, eyes flickering as his system struggled to process the influx of data. the scene would end with him rebooting, and the cycle would start anew. after the first couple of crashes, the laughter faded into concern

“i don’t get it,” you muttered, sprawled out on the couch in the cunning hares' common room. “why does he keep crashing? it’s just a confession.”

“he’s not built to handle that kind of emotional intensity,” nicole explained, fiddling with the handles on his jacket, metal body limp after yet another of your failed confessions. “his programming is complex, but at the core, it’s still a machine trying to process human emotions.”

“and you’re very special to him,” anby added, smiling gently. “that makes it even harder for his system to cope.”

the three of you brainstormed solutions, testing different approaches and environmental controls. they installed cooling systems, tweaked his software, and even practiced mock confessions. yet, each time you poured your heart out to billy, his system would crash and reboot, leaving you both in a loop of unfinished sentences and unspoken feelings

one night, after crash number seventy two—a number that was only devised due to your intricate logs of attempted confessions in your mini journal—the serious gravity of the situation hit everyone. billy’s constant reboots were taking a toll on his system, and the risk of permanent damage was becoming too great to ignore

“this has to stop,” nicole declared, her voice heavy with determination. “we need to find a way to get through to him without causing another crash.”

after much debate, the team devised a new strategy. it wasn’t just about cooling fans and air conditioners; it was about creating a space where billy could process his emotions without the threat of overload. they set up a room specifically for this purpose, equipped with not just temperature controls but also calming visuals and sounds designed to keep billy’s system stable

the designated spot was meticulously prepared. soft lighting filled the room, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. the hum of air conditioners and strategically placed fans ensured the environment was cool. in the center of the room, billy sat on a cushioned chair, looking a bit puzzled but the aura he exuded was always happy

anby gave you a reassuring nod as she adjusted a fan to blow directly at billy. "remember, y/n, stick to the script and stay calm. we’re right here with you."

you took a deep breath and approached billy, your heart pounding. "hey, billy," you greeted, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach

"hey, [name]," he replied, the crescents of his eyes lighting up the room. "what’s up?"

you clutched the script tightly, glancing at the words one last time before looking up at him. "billy, there’s something i’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time. it’s been on my mind, and i need you to know."

billy’s eyes widened slightly, his full attention on you. you continued, your voice soft but clear, following the script's guidance. "you mean a lot to me, more than just a friend. whenever i’m with you, everything feels brighter and better. your laughter, your kindness, the way you always know how to make me smile. i cherish every moment we spend together."

billy blinked, processing your words. the fans hummed softly, maintaining a cool breeze. you took another deep breath, steadying yourself. "billy, i like you. a lot. more than just a friend. i care about you deeply, and i wanted you to know how i feel."

for a moment, there was silence. billy’s eyes flickered, and you held your breath, waiting for the familiar signs of a reboot, slower movement, glitched speech, loss of composure, but instead, his eyes displayed bright red hearts

"[name]," he said softly, reaching out to take your hand. "i… i like you too. more than just a friend." nicole crept over to a cooling fan close to him, cranking up its power

unfortunately, the slip of paper didn't have any more words to refer to so you had to improvise. "so does this mean we're like, dating now?"

"are we really?! we're dating now?!" billy jumped up from his seat, practically oozing excitement and happiness, "wait, but i've never had a partner before. what if i do something wrong? what if you don't like me anymore?!" he shook your shoulders, speaking a mile a minute, ranting about all the things he could do wrong and all the things that could go wrong

"also, it's really cold in here, i can almost feel my metal constricting! can we turn the thermostat up or something?"

you couldn't help but laugh. "one step at a time, billy. let's start with the thermostat."

you finally got billy kid after seventy two reboots, and boy, wasn't it rewarding.

its actually so embarassing how long this took and its not even good....

billy kid taglist

@pedrosimp137 @mary-moongood @nyxin-lynx @lemonboy011 @eisblume77

@amaryllisenvy @megan017 @astral-spacepumpkin @corrupted-tale @inkycap

@thurstonw @plapsha @lavenderthewolf @kurakusun @vitaevaaa

@sweetadonisbutbetter @cobraaah @mochiitoby @clickingchip @bardivislak

@h3r6c00k13 @cozi-cofee @apestegui-y @luvuyuuji @theitdoitnobody

@fersitaam @cathrnxxo @monkepawbz @fl1ghtl3ssdrag0n @dabislilbaby

@many-names-yuna @muffin1304 @doort @j3llycarnival @juuanna

@discipleofthem @spookylorekeep @wazkalia @miaubrebmiau @hersweetsstrawberry

[piracytheorist]

I find it really important that in the last episode, Operation Strix didn't even cross Twilight's mind for a single moment. When he stands outside early in the morning, he becomes determined to "traverse the difficult obstacle" before him... but it quickly becomes apparent that this "obstacle" is simply Anya's inexplicable mood swings.

And while he goes by the entire day going along with whatever Anya asks to do, mentally noting what makes her excited and happy - and what makes her upset, like losing at mini golf - not once does he even mention the "mission". Subconsciously, yes, if asked, he'd say that Anya's happiness and stability is what Operation Strix depends on. But in his immediate thoughts, it's just him trying to make sense of the behaviour he sees, and trying to encourage things that will bring out positive behaviour.

Waiting until Anya gets a scoring point in mini golf. Letting Anya read comics while in the library - and taking note when she starts at the puzzle, then looks upset by it (though he misunderstands the reasons of her change in expression there, as he doesn't know she realized the puzzle wouldn't be an effective distraction for him). Taking her roller-skating, taking her to a magician show, getting her food she seems to enjoy.

And while you could say he's being a little too methodical with it - with all his "observe, analyze" internal orders... that's not really that far from what an actual caring parent does. The ship offers a lot of opportunities for entertainment, and just like a parent who wants to take some time off and offer stimulation and fun to their child, Loid takes a step back and allows Anya to guide him through activities, taking note of the ones she seems to enjoy.

And yet, Anya ends up looking like this.

But this time, Twilight doesn't resort to his usual "I'm a failure of a spy" rhetoric. He is confused, very much so, but he doesn't despair as much. Though getting upset, he puts his determination to see things through in priority.

And at the end? He fears that what will break apart is the Forger family, not Operation Strix.

Subtly, we start to see how his priorities are starting to change. Without him even understanding it, he focuses so much on keeping the family together "for the sake of the mission"... that he completely forgets to even think about the mission.

And then, he tries a quiet and kind approach, fitting it to Anya's needs. He asks Anya if her stomach hurts, he's glad to hear she's having fun but keeps his worried expression to encourage Anya to tell him what's really wrong, and when she shares her feelings, he's supportive, even showing sympathy by saying he would have liked it too if Yor could join them.

His final inner thoughts are him reminding himself that Anya is young enough to sometimes express her emotions in an unpredictable way, and that it was something as simple as missing Yor that made her look upset.

And thus, though he's being realistic about the possibilities of meeting Yor, he offers to try and communicate with her in order for them to meet up. As soon as Anya expresses her concern, he takes the role of understanding her reasons and providing comfort... and all without ever talking about how it would benefit his mission. In this episode, he's simply trying to make a little child feel happy and entertained, listening to her concerns, and offering solutions. And though he may not realize it immediately... the fact that he hasn't been wearing his WISE pin during the entire cruise speaks for itself.

Working as a spy and fully dedicating himself to this way of life is how he's managed to survive in a world of war politics, so it's certainly not easy to fully discard it in one go. But how he goes from "The Handler knew Anya relaxing was about Operation Strix all along" in the previous episode to "Focus on what Anya likes, be supportive and understanding, mission what mission" in this one is very carefully handled to show how even though his methods stay similar, his priorities are slowly shifting.

(Anime only fan here, don't spoil me for the manga)

[dawndelion-winery]

Just Like That

Guiding their starry-eyed junior (can be viewed as platonic or romantic)

Ft. Alhaitham, Cyno, Dottore, Kaveh, Tighnari

Alhaitham:

Haravatat was...well it had the lowest enrollment rate for a reason

And having enrolled yourself, you were starting to see why

But you wouldn't let that deter you!!

You'd heard of the exemplary senior in your darshan by the name of Alhaitham and decided to seek him out for assistance

Which in itself, you felt, should have earned you an award of sorts given how hard he was to find

He excelled at making himself scarce, perhaps even more than he did at his work

Worse still was convincing him to tutor you

As passionate as you were to learn, he wasn't the type to be moved by devotion, and teaching you seemed like more trouble than he cared to deal with

Worst of all was the roundabout, cryptic ways he'd phrase his rejection: never a direct no, it always had to be in another language in some sort of riddle

Until you realised his stupidly annoying phrasings were his way of teaching you subtly

You should be more annoyed with him (enough to never speak to him again) but for whatever reason, him opting to help you, however ridiculously, was touching enough for you to hang around him even more

Cyno:

You'd looked forward to the day you enrolled in Spantamad

After all you'd heard of incredible alchemists like Albedo from Mondstadt and Rhinedottir from an ancient civilisation

But of course, Rhinedottir's work wasn't something you could freely research

And the ley lines!

You'd found a bunch of ley lines that, very strangely, spawned in a foggy orb which when walked into, spawned monsters

You concluded soon enough that the yellow ones gave you mora while the blue ones gave you old academic texts

Now, Cyno first approached you because of interest in Rhinedottir's alchemy

It was mainly to warn you to remember the sins and how you ought to be careful

And then he followed you on one of your ley line trips because it was suspicious how you kept finding notes from adventurers who went missing

Sometimes even the occasional weatherworn documents on research not documented in the Akademiya library

And you were fighting random monsters for this? With no way of knowing what would come out? What if there are rift hounds or something worse?

Absolutely not on your own. He's coming with you from now on

Trust in your reliable senior to beat up anything the ley lines spawn with ease

Dottore:

You must have thought you were real smart getting into Ksharewar

Until you found every Kshahrewar student is brilliant and you're not all that special

The very first time you found a puzzle you couldn't solve, you holed yourself up in the library for endless trial and error

Which only ended when some disgruntled senior came by and solved it for you because you were taking up his usual spot

With his fluffy, electric blue hair and startling ruby eyes, he was an eccentric sort of handsome

And so you scooted to the side for him to sit with you

And he only stared at you wondering why you hadn't left yet

Not that you would now that he's sat beside you

Looking over his solution, he was no doubt the brightest of the brilliant fellows in your darshan, and you'd be damned if you didn't get him to teach you his ways

Against his better judgement, he did finally cave to taking you under his wing

Begrudgingly. Though he wouldn't necessarily get rid of you at the first chance he got

Kaveh:

You had the opportunity to attend the Akademiya while the Light of Ksharewar did, what an honour

His work ethic was really something else

It was... inspirational to see, but frustrating to work with

Can you imagine being on your nineteenth draft because the professor squinted a little too hard at your submission which clearly implied they weren't fully satisfied with it?

Yeah well there's no need to imagine, (read in salesman voice) because with Kaveh, that becomes a reality!

For the low low price of your happiness and sanity, you too could be as much of a perfectionist as Kaveh

Of course he isn't that hard on you

He offers to redo the drafts himself since he's the one who thinks there should be modifications

But for one, you weren't about to waste an opportunity to learn from him

And second, you'd feel bad if he slaved away at it himself

So you often ended up in the House of Daena at ungodly hours with him

Which in turn sparks gossip because of how tired you seem and your peers knowing you're often with your very pretty senior

Tighnari:

Congrats on getting into the most popular darshan, Amurta

I sure hope bio is your strong suit bc it isn't mine

The potential projects you can pick from is so broad that it's impossible to have nothing to do and it's doing wonders for your mental state

Until it's not and you find yourself burnt out

Professors who once praised your drive and dedication now look at you in disappointment and disapproval

It's heartbreaking, really, until they ask Tighnari to guide you, thinking you've had a change of heart about your passions

Tighnari called bullshit on this, of course

He knew what the actual situation was once your change in behaviour was described to him

So when you'd nervously ask him how he was gonna get you back on the work grind, he scoffed and took you out for some relaxing field work

You were wondering what the point of it was, but didn't think it wise to question your well respected senior

At least until his sass got to you and you started quipping back

To which he finally laughed as though he'd succeeded in something

"There you go, you depressing lummox. About time you started loosening up. Stop losing your mind over what you can't do, or you'll start spiralling even more."

Taglist: @ryuryuryuyurboat @yinyinggie @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @haliyamori @irethepotato @boundedbyfate @favonius-captain @aqui-soba @tiredsleep