#most people found that overwhelming (I was thrown off by the fact

[siena-sevenwits]

The urge to apologize to everyone who interacted with me in my first six months of tumblr, because I probably accidentally threw them for a loop. I was still figuring out the etiquette and normal behaviour specific to tumblr, and royally put my foot in it a number of times. Not that I was rude, I but did things like assuming it was like a party, where you had to walk up to people to get to know them, and bravely shoved aside my shyness to message them on the strength of their cool, beautiful blogs… before I had interacted with any of their posts. In my defence, I didn’t grow up with social media, and used it very sparingly as an adult, but still.

[hollowblxxd]

[ BACK AT IT AGAIN WITH THE THEORY / SPECULATIONS / AU THAT FIXES SHIT ]

This time with DEVIL MAY CRY my devoted love

To those who dont know me I love DMC a lot but I have a lot of issues with the ongoing story. So fuck it here in my AU about how to make DMC a overall better storyline cuz I can do

Whatever I wanna

So this whole AU focuses a lot on Nero because this theory spawned in due to the uncertainty over Neros character and the idea that DMC was kinda over since the 4th game unfortunately "killed" the series. It also tied together when DMC2 cuz when DMC4 came out the sequel was considered non-canon cuz it was such a horrible flop.

I personally loved the game with a PASSION cuz the pile of unfortunate garbage that was DMC2 was the first game I ever played and one of the first "mature" games i ever got. I remember begging my grandmother who was baby sitting me to let me play one game and I picked the coolest looking one. Of course being this

ANYYYYWAYYY Im getting off track

My theory is Nero was in fact a clone of Sparda, and not only was he a clone of Sparda but hes ACTUALLY Dante in DMC2.

Let me explain.

The order in DMC4 was obviously an isolated group at the time that was very involved with the CREATION of demons and the worship of SPARDA.

The whole game of DMC4 is about the order trying to recreate their god and I highly doubt this was their first attempt, most likely it was more of their most extreme attempt.

Which as sad it is to say I think Nero was one of the first but messed up attempts. They wanted to bring Spardas power out of the demon world and they got it but NOT as they expected... Instead of resssurecting theyre great glorified devil god. They got a human child.

Cuz in the end Sparda had a human heart and Nero was a reflection OF that. He was a full demon but you'd never know at first glance. So he was discarded as just some abandoned baby.

Nero was luckily found by Kyries family and just seen as poor person forsaken kid. And it wasnt until Nero was SEVERALLY INJURED did Nero demonic nature reveal itself in REPLACING HIS MORTAL BODY WITH A DEMONIC ONE.

Even Nero rebellious nature could actually be a reflection of who Sparda was in the past because you dont just turn against everything youve ever known on a whim. Sparda rebelled, Nero again reflected that.

Even him FALLING IN LOVE WITH A MORTAL WOMAN, again is another REFLECTION on Sparda history. Nero following all the exact footsteps Sparda did. Rebels against his people, Falls in love with a human girl, Defeats a power hungry overlord before slapping the hell gate closed trapping the demons away with his own sword.

Nero also wears BOTH blue and red, which combined and in ORIGINAL CONCEPT ART Nero was actually dressed in PURPLE with a white scarf much like Sparda wearing coat with a white ruffle.

Other things that makes me think hes far stronger than merely a 1/4 demon.

Nero made Dante almost demon trigger from just HITTING him. Dante been stabbed, shot, burnt, thrown off building, eaten, etc. and has NEVER forcefully demon triggered the whole time and suddenly some punk punches him and Dante starts to flash? The last time thst happened is in DMC3 when the tower was drilling closer to hell and getting him closer to

You guessed it SPARDAS POWER.

On top of that, no matter how much his Holiness tried to use the sword of Sparda, the power would not be granted to him, but you know who did use it? WITH EASE? Nero.

Nero used not only Sparda, but Rebellion AND Yamato WITH EASE. And before anyone says "But Rebellions and Yamato is Dante and Vergils sword"

WRONG.

Dante and Vergil INHERITED those swords FROM their father. They were always originally SPARDAS SWORDS. ALWAYS.

The one sword that returns to Nero is the one WITHOUT AN OWNER. Vergil in DMC4 is dead. He died in DMC1 and I dont care what anyone says, Vergil. Is. Dead. He should stay dead cuz it literally ruins his whole character arc to be alive again. Let the man be dead.

In the end the overwhelming evidence that Nero is Sparda is endless and I would email Capcom myself to tell them theyre wrong If I had the power to. Cuz theyre wrong.

ONTO THE NEXT POINT

DMC2 Dante is actually Nero

The Order was revealed to be manipulating the essence of demons into ANGELIC beings that would follow there commands.

At the time theyre secrets were hidden but in the events of DMC4 their secrets could have easily been revealed. And you know what REALLY loves secrets especially when it comes to making free slaves?

Big fucking Business baby.

I believe that the methods of the Order were leaked to the public allowing Business to stsrt using their methods to produce specific demons to serve specific purposes. Taking on the angelic look already provided by the Order to make it "friendlier" to the general populace.

And big business being business it COULDNT really be stopped as they tamper with forces beyond their control...

Dante was getting older and getting overwhelmed and despite it I think the original Dante died.

How? Why? Unknown but what I believe happened is Nero took over for Dante.

Prehaps to simply honor him, Prehaps he still thought the world needed Dante. In the end Nero choice Dante name and even another Alias of "The Son of Sparda" as being a clone of Sparda still technically applies as being a "son".

Noticable the DMC2 Dante personally very muted compared to any other Dante in any other game. But you know who kinda a little quiet boy? Nero...

Also a specific thing that I LOVE about DMC2 is when Dante gets an upgrade the piece would fly towards him and try to hit his heart but DANTE ALWAYS GRABBED IT WITH HIS RIGHT HAND the SAME hand that Nero uses to grab his items and absorb! He could have just let it absorb naturally but he SPECIFICALLY grabbed it with that hand.

Whats more convincing is the fact DMC2 dante has almost the weird... arm sleeve thing that Im pretty sure was a poor render of a gun or back hustle but it honestly to me at the time looks like his sleeve could be removed. Maybe prehaps to reveal his arm? Hmm

Also going with the idea that Nero being technically a creation of the Order could easily bond well with Lucia too since she struggle with the fact SHES a creation. Not a devil hunter of this great legacy but just "some monster" something Nero HAD TO STRUGGLE WITH TOO.

The bond between them could have started a new legacy similar to Dante with Lady and Trish.

It starts all over again. A new bloodline of Sparda saving the world as it always will.

Much like the company of DMC2 being Ourboros, the snake that bites its own tail.

As long as the demon world tries it shit, a sparda one way or another will be there to stop them

THAT CONCLUDES MY TEDTALK ABOUT DMC

PLEASE EMAIL CAPCOM FOR ME AND TELL THEM MY THEORY SO THEY CAN FIX DMC AND MAKE ME HAPPY

[anxietyishere]

HERE IS THE Y/N I MADE, THIS IS BASICALLY THEM IN THEIR LESS SPOOKY FORM (ILL DO THEIR MORE SPOOKY FORM EVENTUALLY WHEN IM BETTER AT DRAWING HORROR),

somes basic stuff about this y/n

•an old eldritch horror, spawned by the growing hate, sadness, and fear of humans(basically spawning from negative energy),

•does stuff that comes off as creepy without realizing its creepy or weird, such as starring at people intensely, nibbling on people(most of the time affectionately, sometimes just to see how a person will react), and crawling on the ceiling.

•prone to outbursts of aggression when put under extreme stress, or when overwhelmed.

•prone to borrowing the nightlights, blankets, and pillows from the daycare when it's not nap time, to make a nest in which they will probably take a multi-hour long nap in

•has probably tried to eat metal out of curiosity

•can purr, purrs the most when sleepy/starring at something they like

•they use all pronouns, but have a slight preference for neutral terms like they or it, cus they a lil creature:>

•extremely stealthy but doesn't realize it

•extremely curious, sometimes to a bad degree

!MORE STUFF IM ADDING NOW :D!

•autistic lil skrunkly

•will temporarily 'adopt' any kids that are sad, easily overwhelmed, or shy, and if that kid doesn't like how loud or bright the daycare is they pick the kid up by their scruff (aka their shirt), and will carry them to a less loud area of the daycare where the lights are a bit more dim,

•probably cries every time one of their favorite kiddos has to leave

•will hiss at anyone they don't like- especially if their around a kid who also doesn't like the person they don't like

•has definitely stolen some things from the lost and found if they don't get picked up after a couple of days,

•likes to give people head pats as it's the form of psychical touch, due to it being the most comfy way for them to show affection :)

•likes sweets to a mildly concerning degree (seriously, they steal all the donuts once the pizza plex closes for the night, their excuse is that they get thrown out the next day anyways because their deemed no longer fresh.)

•their face can split- but to not scare the kids they always keep their face together,

•since fazbear entertainment quite literally could not remove them from the daycare, they lied about y/n's existence by saying their a very life like animatronic so that they wouldn't get sued

•an absolute cuddle bug when given affection by people they trust, like seriously they go full loaf mode, your not getting up anytime soon

•baps things they don't like, like a cat (don't worry they make sure to be gentle :>)

•puts stickers on their friends, pink stickers = best friends, only Sun and Moon have pink stickers, purple stickers = close friends, Monty and Vivian(aka one of the staff bots), have these stickers, blue stickers = people their friends with, chica has this sticker, green stickers = acquaintances, Freddy, Vanessa, Gregory, and some of the staff bots, yellow stickers = people they don't know well enough to have an opinion on, staff bots, mechanics, and Bonnie, red stickers = people they mildly dislike, one mechanic has this sticker, and no one else.

•shockingly good at picking up and noticing how people are feeling.

•doesn't talk much, but when they do it's usually jokes, rambling about stuff they like, calling something cute(especially if it's a cool/cute outfit), and when their comforting people

•some days their more coherent, other days their sleepy and act like a big ol' cat,

•loves Halloween, will scare the teens and adults on purpose for the entirety of October

•also loves Valentines day since they like the fact they get chocolate, doesn't care much for the romance part of it though, mostly cus they don't have a partner

•big enough that it's impossible for a human to knock them over/push them, which is useful when there's an aggressive or loud parent

Hope u enjoy!! And I hope to potentially make this into a lil series, no promises tho, I don't wanna make any promises I might not keep.

[maple-seed]

Thrown - Chapter 33: The Tales We Tell

Summary: New Asgard celebrates a milestone. Loki finds he is still suffering from Thor's retribution

Word Count: 1,928

Masterlist

"Oh, but you must come!" You looked at Thor, uncertain. "Are you sure? It seems like it's Asgard's celebration. I wouldn't want to step on toes." "This is a success to be celebrated by both our communities. A joint effort. Brynjar will be there to say a few words." He pointed a warning finger at you. "Refusing a royal invitation to a public event could cause an outrage." Loki smirked, it was always a pleasure to witness this side of Thor. You laughed and shook your head. "Alright, alright. I guess the last thing we want is a war breaking out." Thor wore a triumphant grin and thumped the top of your stone wall. "Excellent."

The hall that Thor had been petitioning for had at long last been finalized. Permits were granted, blue prints approved, plans agreed upon. There was to be a spectacle made of the groundbreaking. Just a ceremony, the actual construction wouldn't be begin for weeks yet. Things were shifting in New Asgard. People were settling, most were in a permanent home. The day-to-day for citizens was becoming less about finding a way to remain alive and more about finding a means of living. The focus was less about survival and more about thriving. This hall was the greatest symbol of that progress, the first large construction project that was not strictly utilitarian. It deserved the ceremony. It had become clear how important ceremony could be.

"I'm shocked you would question your place there. You should know by now that the Æsir consider you a friend." Thor sounded concerned, perhaps even hurt. You shrugged. "This is a big milestone for your people. I wouldn't want to elbow in on something like that." You patted his arm. "You've set me straight. I'll be there." Satisfied with this, Thor let the topic drop. The three of you chatted at your wall for a short while before the brothers bid you goodbye, having preparations to make.

**

The snow had been cleared away, exposing a swath of ground here at the build site. The press were here, of course, and a few camera flashes went off as Thor began speaking. Loki and the Valkyrie flanked Thor on either side. The three were dressed in their traditional Asgardian garb, naturally. Brynjar and a few other officials from the mortal town were alongside, all formally dressed as well.

The crowd that had gathered was larger than Loki had anticipated. It was a blend of Æsir and humans, and he was feeling surprisingly apprehensive to be standing before them. He spotted you in the throng, near the front but off to one side. He tied himself to your presence like an anchor. Loki tried to focus on you without staring. He kept his feet planted.

Thor spoke about the significance of the hall, how the Asgardians were regaining a piece of their culture, how they were excited to share this culture with the humans here, how grateful he was that they have been given this opportunity. Similarly, Brynjar spoke about how honored they were to host the Æsir, how impressed he was with their progress, and how he looked forward to how this new relationship between the mortals and the gods would develop.

Loki's eyes again passed over the crowd and he came to a sudden realization: no one was glaring. Human and Asgardian alike, everyone here looked pleased. Hopeful. There wasn't an unkind face among them. They looked at him as if this were his expected place, beside his brother. The most natural and acceptable position for him to occupy. He felt it was natural, too.

Someone handed Thor a shovel and he pressed it into the ground, a performance rather than an exertion. Loki inexplicably found himself transfixed. He watched as the shovel lifted and turned over the soil. The earth. It struck him then, this is their home now. He knew it before, of course, but in this moment the awareness of that fact was overwhelming. He looked at you again, smiling and cheering with the rest of the crowd. This was New Asgard. He wondered why it so suddenly felt more real.

More photos were taken. Congratulations were made. Eventually the crowd dispersed. You had, of course, insisted on hosting dinner afterward. In turn, Valkyrie had insisted on giving you a ride. You sat in the bed of the truck, having stubbornly refused to let Loki ride back there alone. Valkyrie was clearly attempting drive slow in order to cut down on the wind but Loki saw you shiver despite her efforts. He shuffled closer to you, hoping to block the worst of it.

"Thanks." You mumbled as you huddled against him. "No trouble." He resisted the urge to wrap an arm around you. "You look very impressive in your Asgardian gear." "I'm quite certain that I always look impressive." He looked at you sidelong with small smirk. You rolled your eyes. "I don't know why I even bother." "I was merely defending myself." He shrugged. "Your comment could have easily been an insult rather than a compliment." "It was a compliment. I feel like insulting you now." You crossed your arms and looked away. He chuckled and nudged you with his elbow. You nudged him back.

The truck came to a stop and Loki disembarked, then offered his hand to help you do the same. You led the party inside where Ash greeted everyone, wagging frantically. Loki hadn't asked why the dog had been left behind. Valkyrie was on her knees crooning about the poor thing being left home alone.

Dinner was served and wine was poured. The atmosphere was excited and celebratory. Conversation flowed easily between the group, drifting back and forth until it settled on one particular subject: Norse mythology. You were curious, questioning the gods as to which stories rung true and which parts were embellished or fabricated. You pursued the topic with such fervor that Loki wondered how long you had been waiting for it to come up.

"I'll have you know," Thor placed a proud hand on his chest. "I made for a very lovely bride." "I cast a very powerful illusion." Loki explained. "And the veil did a lot of the heavy lifting." Thor scoffed. "And still the oaf nearly gave the game away by eating half the feast." "It had been a long journey." Thor shrugged. "And I would need the energy for the fight to come." Loki rolled his eyes. "You are lucky that Þrymr was easily swayed." "Mjølnir was recovered. That's the important part." Thor took another bite and looked to you. "What else?" You looked down at your plate, pushing food around with your fork. "Well, there was one thing I've been wondering about." "Yes?" "Odin's horse, Sleipnir?" "A very fine steed." Loki noted. "What about him?" Thor was suspiciously quiet. You glanced at Loki, then back down at your plate. "It's... nevermind. Don't worry about it." "What is it?" Valkyrie's curiosity was piqued as she reached for her glass. You hesitated a moment longer, casting another quick glance at Loki, now cracking a smirk. "In the mythology, Loki gives birth to Sleipnir." Valkyrie sputtered and choked on her wine. Loki stared at you for a moment, mouth agape. He then turned to his brother, furious. "THOR!" He hissed. Thor was hunched forward on the table, his shoulders shaking in silent laughter. Valkyrie was beside herself. You were grinning now. "So... not true then?" "No!" Loki pounded a fist on the table. "I did not give birth to our father's horse!" With that Thor broke into a howling laugh. Loki scowled. "That is a story entirely fabricated by my brother," he shoved Thor's shoulder, it did nothing to curb his laughter, "and told to the humans in retribution for a completely harmless trick. Wholly undeserved." "It was very well deserved!" Thor managed to wheeze. Loki turned to Thor and gestured to you. "Centuries, dozens of generations later and they are still telling that story!" That only redoubled Thor's mirth. "They like the story, what I can I say?" You were laughing now too. The entire group was cackling. Loki crossed his arms and sat back in his chair. A small smile did creep to the edge of his mouth.

Thor wiped the tears from his eyes and Valkyrie recovered her composure. She refilled her glass and looked to you. "You're well versed in these myths." You shrugged, smiled, and for just a moment your eyes met Loki's over your glass. "I like stories." She laughed and sat back. "That tracks. Tell me again how you got that scar." You smiled wider, set down your drink and pushed your sleeve back to reveal the mark on your arm. "This one? Oh, it was nothing. I had to fight a bull the size of a mountain. One of his horns gouged me pretty good. I grabbed hold of his tail and swung him out into the ocean." You gestured in the general direction of New Asgard and the sea. "From your harbor you can still see his hooves sticking up out of the water." There were chuckles all around. "Well done. Very impressive." She said. You tipped your glass to the group before taking a sip.

The meal complete, the four of you took the wine to the living room instead. You and Loki took places on the couch, Thor in an arm chair, Valkyrie naturally on the rug with Ash.

The conversation came back around to the hall. Thor was espousing all of its virtues. "Construction will begin in earnest as soon as the weather allows." He explained. "It should be complete by Midsummer. Then we shall have a feast!" He was gesturing wildly with his glass now. "A ball. A proper one! We'll have music and dancing and bonfires." He pointed a finger at you. "You have not seen a ball until you've seen one put on by the Æsir." You laughed. "I can't say I've seen one at all. I would be out of place somewhere like that." Suddenly Loki could think of nothing but the image of you in a gown. In his colors, naturally, something that fit to your curves. A vision. "Nonsense!" Thor waved dismissively. "You will fit right in. It will be a celebration for our community. For both of our communities." He corrected. "We must not forget this is New Asgard. We wouldn't be here without the charity of the humans. All of us will come together to celebrate, just as we have come together to build." "Feast like that sounds like a lot of work." Valkyrie sighed. "Yes, but it's not beyond us. Look at how much we've managed so far." She nodded. "I'll drink to that." The group raised their glasses in a toast.

The evening came to a close, you bid each of them farewell with a hug and waved from the door. Loki again found himself gazing out the truck window while Thor and Valkyrie discussed work to be done. The moment brought him to the contemplation of belonging. He thought of you, in a ball gown, at a feast. You had said you would be out of place, but the image had felt very natural to him. He thought back to the faces in the crowd today. This was a new Asgard. In a timeline that shouldn't be. Everything was being written as it went. He had begun to believe he had a place here, too.

It was the story he chose to tell himself.

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[anisaanisa]

Kagome’s time between worlds. Drabble collection for @inukag-week 2023 ☆ Chapter 4/7 – Modern: Kagome asks a question she doesn't like the answer to. Tags: Implied/Referenced Character Death / Pandora's Book Word Count: 400 (Quadruple Drabble) 《 Previous〡Next 》

Ironically, as subjects go, Kagome hated history the most.

That fact pummelled her with each inhale, the must of the room she’d weaselled her way into erring on the side of overwhelming. The pages under her fingers crinkled as she skimmed the tired, weathered ledger, and she feigned interest in whatever tale the overeager assistant spun.

Questions she’d never dared to articulate clawed and pawed at her until, in a haze of paperwork and lying through her teeth about an interest in Japanese history, Kagome wound up where she figured out too late she didn’t want to be – rummaging through archives from a time long ago, looking for breadcrumbs of people she once knew.

She gasped and slammed the book shut upon finding what she thought to be Sango’s name.

“Miss?”

Her heart sped. People weren’t immortal.

“Miss?”

Her head pounded. Men weren’t immortal.

“Is something wrong?”

Her head snapped towards the man vying for her attention, and his smile wavered as he asked, “Is everything alright?”

She could say she made a mistake, coming here. That their history was so watered down, it was almost laughable. That, as crazy as it sounded, she’d known the people whose names had faded into illegibility. That every preciously useless preservation was thanks to a man whose heritage had been entirely erased, who’d wielded magic and a sword as long as his body, who’d thrown himself into the ether to drag her back into the world and make sure she’d live to see it. That it pissed her off that their legacy had turned to dust, and though she loved her friends here they never shut up, and she missed them and that comfortable silence that she’d wished she cherished more in the moment.

She exhaled.

She’d learned to be careful what she wished for.

Wary eyes followed the book she’d mistreated as she slid it towards him; she was used to people thinking her strange, though an ugly, impish part of her wanted to rip the pages from their spine and throw them in his stupid, helpful face. But he didn’t deserve to weather her storm; few understood her otherworldly insights, and they weren’t the poor man standing in front of her, whose polite façade crumbled the longer she held his stare.

“Yes.” She hesitated, forcing a smile onto her face. “I found exactly what I was looking for. Thank you.”

Fin

Read it on AO3 ▶

[rosietrace]

HII ROSIE ∅ for Victoria and Keres mayhaps or Camilla and Quincy since he's friends with Byeol-bit :3c

HELLO MERCIE WERCIE 😈😈 your wish is my command fr fr

Much like Jas and UiO, I'll be making a separate post for Cami and Quincy!

Victoria Shard — Thoughts on Keres Perrault

Character Featured: Victoria Shard

Mentioned: Keres Perrault, Dire Crowley, Vil Schoenheit

Warning(s): Crowley mentions/j, Vic being Vic, manipulation (not directed at Keres), potentially ooc

[ Apologies for any out of character moments ]

[ Reblogs > Likes ]

†•°•══════ஓ๑❃๑ஓ══════•°•†

“Keres… I take pity on them, being Crowley's unpaid assistant. Always working so hard, yet barely getting anything in return. If I were Crowley, I would at least give them decent pay. Alas…”

— Victoria Shard

╔══ஓ๑†๑ஓ══╗

Non-verbal Thoughts

╚══ஓ๑†๑ஓ══╝

「 General Thoughts 」

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ Victoria pities Keres if that wasn't obvious enough.

➜ She doesn't understand why Keres continues to work for Crowley. After all, the headmaster barely even gives Keres a break for all the errands he makes them run.

➜ She's probably tried to sway Crowley into at least giving Keres a salary, but somehow — in spite of his greediness — Crowley didn't accept the bribe.

➜ So, without any further attempts with any sort of success in them, Victoria simply took it upon herself to just… Treat Keres better than Crowley ever had.

↳ Frankly, she's only really doing the bare minimum.

➜ Victoria invites Keres to tea when they aren't flooded with errands thrown at them by Crowley. If they don't like tea, then Victoria would be more than willing to serve them something more to their liking.

➜ Hopefully, Keres can understand that while Victoria may come off as distant and cold (which she is), she still has a heart, and has more than enough hospitality to spare for them.

➜ Although…. There's a possibility that they'd be overwhelmed by how… Nice??? Vic is being to them?? 😭

↳ Given Victoria's reputation, that sort of demeanor coming from her is rather uncharacteristic…

➜ Victoria indulges in the pastries Keres bakes with open arms. Especially if they're chocolate flavored. (Keres probably noticed her love of chocolate, and took that into account when making pastries for her)

➜ While Vic isn't particularly fond of Vil…. She's willing to put up with him if it means getting on Keres' good side. Assuming they are on good terms with the current Pomefiore housewarden, at least.

↳ If not.... She'd consider it a good thing.

༝��･ㅤ˚���。ㅤ.ㅤ⋆ㅤ「❃」

「 Interactions 」

❐ More likely than not, Keres must've stumbled upon Victoria while recently finishing an errand for Crowley.

➜ At first, Victoria did nothing more than a couple hums, nods, “yes/nos” to anything Keres said to her. Frankly, given her stature, it wouldn't be surprising if Keres found her…. Err…. Intimidating, to say the least.

➜ But, Victoria is a woman who seeks benefits through information. And so, over time, she began doing as much research on Keres as possible.

↳ If I'm being honest, this woman is fucking terrifying with how thorough she is in gathering info on people 😭

➜ Through this development, she'd discover that Keres was, in fact, childhood friends with Vil. Safe to say, Victoria was Not Pleased. And no one did Not Pleased like Victoria Shard. (She kinda just disregarded that information, as she didn't deem it important enough to benefit from it.)

➜ For the first few interactions they had together, Victoria would only speak to Keres if it meant possibly getting more information about them. Over time, however…. She learned to care for them.

➜ She'd notice how tired Keres would usually be, especially when it came down to following Crowley's errands, doing paperwork, taking over for him from time to time, etc.

➜ Thus, leading to the present day. Victoria , though not openly admitting it, shows concern for Keres — and, by most accounts, treating them with the respect they lacked from Crowley.

↳ In her own way…. Vic's kinda like a mother hen for Keres, in that regard. 💀

†•°•══════ஓ๑❃๑ஓ══════•°•†

[ghstdoll]

regulus was the smartest person she's ever met, after all there weren't many people their age who knew how to create their own spells. he was like no one else she's ever known but there was something else about him that kind of surprised her. he was sensitive, almost naive in a way he wanted to see the best in things and situations even as a death eater he never seemed hateful but as though he truly believed this message their elders passed down to him, making him think he'd be some type of hero to purebloods. it's even now, he speaks of his actions as if he'd actually done anything wrong or if anything he could've done would've prevented his mother from being a psychotic bitch. "reg, no offense but I think she would've found a way to attack me regardless of what you did or didn't say...I'm just happy you did say something." she assures him with a sad smile.

she doesn't disagree that walburga seems passionate about her son, not really knowing anything of her relationship with the eldest other than a locked bedroom and a portrait with his face burnt off. but she's not so sure how she feels about the way the woman seems to go about her 'love' for regulus in fariness she never had much of a good relationship with her own mother but what kind of woman freaks out that their son is happy with the woman he's going to spend the rest of his life with? she simply sighs unsure how to process any of this or even tell him how she feels.

she loves him more than life itself and she wants nothing more than to spend her life by his side, starting a family with him and growing old together. which is why she's thrown off by his response to her words, brows knitting together in confusion as blue eyes flicker towards regulus, turning to face him after he let her skirt fall.. "I know you wouldn't...baby look at me." both of her hands coming up to cup his cheeks, looking at him with adoring and worried eyes as she watches the confusion and pain inside of them. "I want to bring kids into this world but not for the sake of our families or some stupid ideals on bloodlines, I want to have your babies and I want to raise those kids together but..." she brushes her thumb against his cheek. "I don't want our kids to be raised around conditional love and anger....I don't want to have another family dinner where your mother is accusing me of making you act out and embarrassing you and I don't want my children to ever have to fear for themselves around their grandparents. I know you would never let anything or anyone hurt them or me and I know you want to protect me but we have to make a decision for their future and I'm not so sure being inside this house forever is safe." she tries to explain, assuring him she's not having second thoughts on their family or him just that she wants better for their future children. "and you are not your parents oh god, you are the most brilliant and sweet person I've ever met. you're nothing like them just because you share a last name doesn't mean you would be a bad parent. I do believe you, and I love you and I need you to understand that you are a good person regulus." she leans up nudging her nose against him, trying to ignore the fact she's comforting him without any clothes on.

"I love you and I'm proud of the man I'm going to marry, sweet boy." she pulls back, looking up into his eyes with a kind smile. before him she was a lot angrier, a lot more chaotic and alone but he's shown her what love is and what it can be like. "this marriage isn't about them anymore, not to me. it's about you and me and I'm willing to play nice with your mom until the wedding but after that...you're not hers anymore." she says softly brush her nose against his. "you're mine."

she feels overwhelmed still, her throat hurts from crying and her eyes sting she just wants everything to work out and she wants to stop being so stressed about everything. but most of all she just wants to feel his touch again and be wrapped up in his arms and despite her tears she can't help but feel a bit needy as well. his words about having her whenever and wherever still in her thoughts as she stands here being undressed by him, especially as his fingers wrap around her panties to pull those down as well, still wet from that same moment earlier in the night. she smiles warmly, letting her arms wrap around his shoulders all pressed up against him. "I'd really like my bath now if you wanna still give it to me."

he smiles a little at how she tries to downplay his involvement. “i lost my temper and antagonized her,” he says gently. “i stand by what i said… i just wish i’d been able to take all of the heat instead of causing her to attack you more.”

he doesn’t disagree that she should focus on her own marriage, wishing she would just stick to applying her ideals to her own relationship instead of dictating what’s going on with his soon-to-be marriage. “i think she puts everything into her children… she refuses to talk about what happened with my brother, back before he went to azkaban for killing people. but i have this feeling that she cares more about us than my father, sometimes.” when she wasn’t acting crazy it was nice sometimes, having a mother that he thought loved him. but so much of it is easily disrupted and it’s starting to feel conditional in some strange way.

he’s just glad that salem is hugging him back, sniffling at the last of her tears. he lets her go when she pulls away, instead focusing on undoing her top from the back. he gently traces her skin with his fingertips, listening to her speak. his smile falters a little, not expecting some of her words.

until this marriage, he hadn’t really seen this side of his mother, and he certainly hadn’t thought of his parents as violent or full of hate. the way she says it stings a little, especially because this is all he knows. what does it say about him, that he’s their son and constantly praised for being the spitting image of both of them? what does it mean that he’s the favorite, the pride and joy of the family? all of it hurts, a pain clawing at his chest that makes it hard to breathe for a moment. tears fill his eyes as he drops his hands, stepping away. “i would never let my kids be hurt,” he says a little defensively, but there’s a hint of confusion in his voice, like he doesn’t know himself. would he? would he be the kind of parent that allowed his child around someone like his mother, who just tried to throw a vase at him half an hour ago? he knows salem might be right, somewhere deep down, but it’s hard accepting that his parents are like this— that it would be bad in any way for them to be around his child. not when he’s grown up loving them and doing everything for them— even initially agreeing to a marriage because they wished it.

he takes a shaky breath, looking away to try and gather himself. “i get why you don’t want to bring kids into this family… as much as it hurts that it feels like you might be having second thoughts, i can’t blame you for not wanting to have children around them after tonight. but if my parents are bad people, then what does that say about me? i mean, i am them… everything i’ve done is for them.” his eyes sting and his chest clenches, a lump in his throat making it hard to breathe. all he wants is to be loved, by his mother and father and by the girl in front of him, and at this moment everything feels unattainable somehow. “i don’t want her to hurt you again… and i won’t let it happen. i hope you believe me.”

it hurts him that she says she wants him to figure out if she wants that life with her, even if he knows why she’s saying it. “i want you and there’s nothing to figure out,” he says quietly, struggling to push back the tears. everything about this is overwhelming— that his mother hurt her tonight and that he has to grapple with the people who raised him maybe being bad people. that all of this is causing stress on salem or their marriage is too much to bear. 

even still, he finishes taking her top off, wanting to help her get ready for bed like he suggested. “you don’t look like a whore, but even if you did i’d like it.” he loves the way she dresses and the way it makes him feel, horny for her just from checking out her beautiful body.

her bra falls off and he swallows, trying not to be turned on by the sight of her breasts hanging free, even if he can’t fully see them because she’s facing away as she bends over. his gaze settles on her ass, his skin feeling hot as he stares at how perfect it is in her tight skirt, which she’s now asking him to take off. “okay,” he answers quietly. everything has been overwhelming and he’s still a little drunk, making it difficult to be very charismatic at this point.

so he reaches out, placing his hands on her ass and sliding up, feeling her a little before his fingers finally hook on the fabric. he’s not sure if she’s in the mood for anything right now, especially with both of them crying, but he figures she wouldn’t mind him touching her a bit if her bending over motion was any indicator at all.

starting to roll the skirt down, he tugs it down her thighs, helping her pull it all the way off her legs. she’s left in her underwear, so he hooks his fingers into the side, starting to pull them down. he wonders if she’s wet, feeling the way they catch for a moment before being free to tug down. he can’t stop looking at her ass, staring at her perfect bare cheeks, his hand gently cupping one of them.

[marveloustimestwo]

Hello!! Could I request a zombie Peter Parker (tasm) x reader in a zombie apocalypse au?

Warnings: Yandere themes, zombie apocalypse au, in turn, mentions of murder and cannibalism (but not by reader, and not explicit).

When Peter first got bit trying to protect you, it likely instilled a sense of relief in you.

Peter had been nothing short of paranoid and obsessive about you and your safety, even before the apocalypse started.

Even if you had tried to accept his more . . . overwhelming qualities, it was still hard for anybody to deal with.

After finally seeing a way out of it, despite the fear of losing a fierce protector, you still couldn't help but feel a bit happy at your newfound freedom.

You thought that Peter would die quickly after being bitten. You didn't want to stick around to see him turn, fearing that he might bite you too in an attempt to keep you with him even in death.

Now you could go anywhere you wanted without Peter constantly breathing down your neck or purposefully killing anyone you came across, even if they were friendly.

But despite most people becoming walking brain-dead corpses whose only rational thought was to eat other people, you soon found out that even in his new zombie state, Peter's obsession for you still burned bright.

You swore it was like an infection of its own; never fading or dying, consuming Peter even when he himself should be dead.

After settling for the night only a few days after leaving Peter, you could hear a zombie groaning close to the house you took shelter in.

It wasn't unusual. Quite the opposite, actually. The groans of the dead were familiar now, and so long as they weren't too many of them or too close, you didn't find yourself bothered by them when you were safe indoors.

As you were just about to sleep for an hour or two, you found yourself on edge at the sound of a persistent zombie groaning and scratching at the door.

Which was very strange. You made sure to be quiet, and that you stayed away from any window that someone could see you through. No zombie should have been able to tell you were staying there.

At first, you wanted to leave it be and deal with it when you left, but you knew that leaving the groaning zombie could attract others, which would be much more dangerous.

So you grabbed your machete, ready to put the corpse out of its misery, only to find the pale, bloodied face of your boyfriend trying to grin at you.

The fact that he was even managing said smile tipped you off that Peter wasn't all zombie, but he certainly wasn't all human either.

You didn't know what he was, and despite how he tried to seem friendly (even in this state, he could never want to hurt you), you still couldn't help but feel afraid of him.

You let him into the abandoned house you had found, and noticed a few things about him.

Peter didn't talk much now. You knew he could, as he tried to explain where he'd been and how he'd found you, but you suspected that the sickness caused him to struggle to either put words together or outright speak them.

Still, Peter tried to make you more at ease by talking with you like he used to.

And just like he used to be, Peter was still as obsessed and overprotective as ever.

You tossed around the idea of killing him when he wasn't alert, but that was quickly thrown out when Peter always seemed to be alert.

You theorized that his new state had given him a few perks like not needing to sleep or eat, which made it so that he was around much more often, despite never being physically apart in the first place.

Before, you could have some peace when he slept, or when he kept you away while gathering supplies in some of the more dangerous areas.

Now, Peter's much more territorial, and has an easier way of dealing with people he deems a threat.

Though he tries to keep it from you as long as possible, Peter does slip away sometimes when he knows you're safe to dispose of these threats in a much more. . . vicious way.

He finds that it both helps him function for longer while helping him "protect" you.

Despite finding happiness after Peter was bitten, thinking that you would finally be free from his obsessive nature, you were now subjected to a half-zombified Peter who's even worse than before.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

HI BEAUTY!!

daryl dixon fic request! plz do whatever you feel like doing and whatever you’re comfortable with<3

so like a prison era daryl right and he’s in the mood but the readers got some news?

<3 duck:)

literally my best friend here. go give @duckmania127 lots of love.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." I know that swearing isn't helping my situation at all but this waiting isn't getting any easier as the minutes tick on. I'm sweating, my hands shaking in my lap as I look over the three pregnancy tests on the cell floor, my heart practically pounding in my throat. I can't even fathom what's happened, I know that I'm not dreaming but I barely feel awake.

My brain tries to distract myself, thinking of the possibiltiy of having a child, making Judith a little best friend and someone for Carl to play with. These people were my family, Daryl is my family, but what were they going to think of me? Were they going to judge me for not being careful enough, for being careless with Daryl?

We're in love, shit happens, condoms break.

Count to ten, take a deep breath, relax...

My eyes seem to be stuck on the wall, tracing the lines of the brick with every breath I take, counting, waiting for the timer in front of me to go off. I'm thankful Daryl's out on a run with Glenn and Rick knowing that if he was here and aware of my concerns that he would panic more than I am. He's always claimed that he had nothing paternal about him especially given the two father-like roles in his life, his father and Merle.

I don't know who's more unprepared between the two of us.

I wonder if he'll be angry at me, if he'll yell or scream at me.

There's not a reason in my head for me to think that but it's the only thing running through my head. I'm angry at me, my mind running through all the times we've had sex, trying to pin point what time did it. Was it the time in the watch tower, the time in the showers, or what about the time when we were out on a run?

Fuck, it was probably the time we found the motel a few miles out. Rick thought we were dead because we came home a day late all due to the fact that I couldn't walk properly. I finally had to tell Maggie that I was not hurt and that I indeed just had my back blown out like three times.

The mans got stamina, what can I say?

The buzzer makes me jump, my whole body jolting as I quickly fumble to turn the ringing off before it woke up anyone in my block. I take a deep, anxious breath as I hesitate, not wanting to turn over the tests.

They're just lines on a piece of plastic, that's it.

Groaning, I flip them over, my eyes landing on the six lines staring up at me, bile rising up my throat as I immediately swipe the tests away from me, angry tears rising to my eyes.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." I cry, fingers weaving through my hair as my mind runs, my lips bleeding and raw from biting at them. I'm quickly thrown into the five stages of grief all at once but sticking around denial for the most part.

Moments later, I finally find the courage to grasp the tests between my hands, moving to set them in a box under the bed. I'd have to show them to Daryl, I know that, but I need somewhere safe to put them, out of sight, out of mind.

"Hey." My head whips around to look at Daryl, standing in the doorway with his forearms resting against either side of the door. I gulp, scrambling to my feet as he smiles, meeting me in the middle to wrap his arms around my waist. My toes lift off of the ground as he holds me tightly to him, my fingers tangling in his hair. He presses frantic kisses against the bare skin of my shoulder, overwhelmed with happiness just by seeing me. "Missed you." He whispers, pulling back to cup my cheeks as my feet touch the ground. My rapid, anxious heartbeat calms a bit at the sight of his eyes, loving the bashful smile on his lips. "You look upset." His brows furrow as I shake my head, leaning forward to capture his lips.

He hums, fingers trailing down my cheeks to my neck, all the way down my body to rest on my hips. Pulling me flush against him, I let out a breathy moans as he walks me backwards, one of his hands pushing the cell door closed with bang. By the time my back hits the wall, his hands are in my hair, his lips parting mine as he groans.

Reality check, Y/n, come back to reality.

Abruptly, I pull back, nausea once against consuming me as he frantically looks over my expression, his hands sliding away from me to rest on the wall behind me. His eyes are full of concern and confusion, nose bumping against mine as my eyes flutter shut.

"What's goin' on? Talk to me." I nod, trying my best to fight back the tears pricking at the backs of my eyelids but they quickly seep out and down my cheeks. "Come on, woman, you're scaring me." He mutters, pulling away from me completely as I reach down to take his hands.

"I just need you to listen to me." I clear my throat, leading Daryl over to the bed silently as I sit him down. He waits patiently, sweaty hands rubbing over his thighs.

"If it's that time'a month and you don't wanna do nothing, just say so." He teases, trying to cut the tension in the room as I laugh tearily, tucking some strands of hair behind my hears. "Jus' know a period stops nothin' but a sentence." His words make my whole body relax as I reach down for the box under the bed.

"I'm gonna show you something and I need you to take a breath first and not yell at me." I scoff, sitting down beside him crosslegged as he reaches out, placing his hand on my shoulder as his eyes find mine.

"Yell at you- what? Why would I ever raise my voice at you?" He asks but I shrug, waving his concern off but he just continues. "Never. If I ever raise my voice at you, you better put me in my place, you got that?" My heart warms, my overall anxiety diminishing a bit as I hand him the box, my eyes staring at the lid.

"I just want you to keep an open mind." I scoot away from him a bit as he blinks a few times, eyes directed at the box as he lifts the top, eyes immediately locking with the objects of my anxiety. "My gut instinct is to apologize to you. I know how you feel about kids and how you feel about being a dad, I know it's not what you want." My words feel strangled as I try to take another deep breath but nausea stifles my comfort again.

I watch him carefully as he stares, his fingers reaching into the box to lift one of the tests in his shaky hands, his head bobbing in a simple nod. I can't tell if he's going to blow up, cry or laugh. I can't gauge him, I can't read him and it's what makes this the scariest moment of the day.

"You're telling me I actually managed to knock you up?" He asks, the joking tone behind his voice makes my eyes widen, my lips parting in confusion. He sets the tests down, but his eyes stay locked on them. "Fuck I wonder which time did it." We have the same mind. I allow myself to laugh, reaching up to wipe my eyes as he laughs along with me, his chest rumbling as he strips himself of his vest.

"I know it's not what you want, Daryl-"

"Ever stop to think for one second that you're the only thing I want." He cuts me off simply, my brows pulling together as I point to the box as if he didn't actually see or read them.

"Daryl I'm pregnant-"

"C'mere, would ya?" He tugs me onto his lap, leaning against the wall as he shuffles me up his thighs, arms wrapped around my back. He looks up at me, his eyes are kind and reassuring but my head just shakes.

"Are you taking this seriously?" I scoff, hitting my hands against his chest as he cups my cheeks once more, forcing me to look down at him as my cheeks squish.

"Course I am, sunshine." He sighs, thumbs brushing against my cheekbones with a reassuring smile, his eyes flickering back and forth between mine. "Did you want me to get angry? Want me to yell? To leave you? Nah, I don't do that shit." He tugs me down into a hug as I rest my head on his chest, loving the feeling of his strong arms around me, my chest finally expanding and my nausea mellowing out. "You're my girl, could never leave ya." His fingers brush through my hair as happy tears rise to my eyes, my chin lifting to look up at him.

"I'm gonna get fat, ya know? Fat and disgusting, I'll look old." I warn, watching as he smirks, leaning down to capture my lips in a heated kiss. I whisper a quiet hum, the hair on my arms sticking up at the feeling of his lips, slow and heated against mine.

"Pregnant or not, still gon' fuck you good, hope you know that."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpc i@joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90@szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna@f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin @abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum @glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets @haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson @heyaitsklaudia @rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @chiyongberry @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy

[mochikeiji]

Enough For Me

Request: "Congratulations on 1k!!! you deserve it, you’re a really good writer. Can i request prompt 12 “please don’t cry” angst to fluff with yuuta from jjk. thank you, congrats."

12. "please, don't cry."

↠ Pairing: Okkotsu Yuta x Reader

↠ Warning: angst to fluff

↬ Word Count: 1.5k

↳ from Go! Go! Gogatsu Event

When did every thing become so loud?

One minute you were similing. Laughing loud with a hint of the obvious enjoyment masked on your features. Then second you're staring to nowhere but silence greeting you. An expression so dim that the light in your eyes wasn't present as well. Left at the forest training grounds, the others had already gone back to their dorms. You told them you were staying for a bit for extra training when in reality, you were looking for an outlet without anyone witnessing your hour of vulnerability.

Stupid clan and their elders. As disrespectful as it may sound, you understood now why Gojo despises them. Loud it was to the point it deafens your ears; the murmurs of a child cast away from the bloodline because of the mockery it holds. A no good sorcerer was never welcome in families like yours. People would still chew on your head even when you have your backs turned on them. So frustrating it was to shoulder a burden of their devilish gossip and expectations.

At first it was alright. You handled it well. But to the extent where one of the higher ups brought it up during a meeting? How many people know of you and the disappointment you carry?

Gojo had his fist clenched that day. Maki understood you more than anyone, having to be someone who ran away from her clan as well. Inumaki and Panda did their best in comforting you, telling you that humans are weird to drag other humans down when they're the same race. That was just being so entitled, said Panda. You however, convinced your comrades you were fine. You were used to it. And it was fine.

It didn't matter what other's say as long as other's knew you for what you weren't, right?

That doesn't mean you couldn't help but become overwhelmed of the impact they had on you. Like knives forcefully shoved their ways through your heart. The pack of negative energy should've been enough to form a large curse that could take you.

Loud it was indeed. To have so many people shit their way into your life when you only wanted to live yours and not bother theirs.

You gulped down the heavy lump in your throat. Caught up in the fog of profanities from the world. Who were you kidding, you weren't Maki who can handle all this thrown at her. Tumbling and falling, that was all you knew about yourself in your whole life. The nails that grip in your palms pierced through the skin as blood trickles down, no amount of pain could level the amount of pent up emotions you buried in your heart.

Perhaps you've were born in the wrong time and place. If only you were a simple civilian, maybe life wouldn't be so bad. A loving family would be there, instead of the ones that were throwing their unfulfilled dreams to their children and controlling of their destiny.

The look in your mother's eyes will forever haunt you. Looking already as tired as you were, her eyes spoke more emotion than you could ever endure as loveless, empty ones met your teary gaze that very day.

"I only wanted a daughter who could've done so much for me as I've given her life after birth."

Your heart throbs, soon you were down on the dirt covered ground on your knees. The weight of her words colliding in the world you swore was a safe space for you. It shouldn't matter. Not when they've cast you away and yet, no matter what there is, she was still your mother.

And still the pain is as fresh as ever coming from the one you used to call, "family."

As loud as your world was, your cries were louder and clearer this very night. As if with all your might, you wanted to scream from above on how this was truly unfair. Wanting someone— anyone to hear you curse at the world you were forced to live in. It hurts your lungs, it was indeed hard to grasp small bits of oxygen when your insides felt like they were shrinking from the compact.

You wish you could scream at your mother that deep inside you still loved her. Even as a child who never received the motherly love they deserved, you loved her dearly. It was by instincts and the remains of your vision as a baby, being held in someone arms in hushing your cries.

The surface felt so firm unlike you remembered how it was when you were young. Yet the warm embrace felt nostalgic as it shielded you from the cold blistering wind of the night, you find yourself searching against the surface without a care of any danger or anything anymore. You wanted to be comforted for once. To not feel alone.

"Please don't cry."

Small hushes drowned out your sobs, an arm wrapped firmly around your waist while the other pets your head at the outmost caring matter. Curling closer, your hand held the one on top of your head. Taking in the rough texture, but reminding yourself that someone was now here in your time of need. Here after being away most of the times.

"Yeah, it's me." sensing your troubles as he averts his gaze away from you as if he was embarrassed. "I heard what happened. I managed to finish up much just to get here." next to him was the blade he carries around. Probably less hazardous as to why he place it down.

"Yuta.." sobbing as you clutched on the white material he wore. He immediately reverts back to soothing you in your distressed state. Something about the way he holds you only made you tear up more. It broke his heart in pieces to see you hold onto him as if he was the only person left to anchor yourself. And here he thought he had it worse back then, your body language brought this resemblance to the girl he used to hold just as he was doing now.

"Shh, I promise you that none of those words said about you is true."

Easier said, he knew that. It was easy to reassure someone of their thoughts, but it's not that easy to erase. The mind is a wondrous and torturous place to be in. Old memories can be dug out to the surface and you'd still feel the emotion like it just happened yesterday. Oh if you had Yuta's vision of you, you'd believe in his words.

A strong role model like you is exactly the reason why Yuta aims to be the strongest as well. To help people realize that strength isn't found in the words of other human beings, but within yourself. Yes, it's a harsh world we live in. Those who feel lowly amongst themselves would drag those above them. And those who feel the surge of entitlement snarls at those below them.

But no matter who it is that doubts you, and your potentials, there would always be someone behind you, with the glimmer in their eyes, you are their hope and inspiration in some ways.

That is what Yuta murmurs next to your ear, your cries now subsided to focus on his voice. "You're doing great. We've seen it. I've seen it." facing you with his boyish smiles, you wondered how'd this guy who came looking like a ragged mess become someone twinkling brighter than the stars above the night sky. It was contagious, it made you smile so minimal.

"There's that pretty smile." chuckling, he pats your head softly like treating a little kid. Yuta knows deep down that he can't fully resolve the thoughts inside of you— one of these days you'll have these moments again. And it saddens him because he's often away from you. Yet he's breathless at the fact that you're able to hold yourself off with all these tormenting you.

"You're amazing, darling." came out lower than a whisper before his lips closed in with yours. Last time he kissed you boy was he sweating buckets. He wasn't even as bold as now to be able to initiate first and pull you flush against his chest. But the erratic pace of his heart still was the same as ever. The loudness that had clouded you vanished. All you could hear now were pleasant chorus played by the crickets of the night and the wind lacing together throughout the atmosphere.

He promises to do much more with you for the time being. Help you mend the wounds no one can see and assist with the battles you two could only share and understand. One day as he stated before he would walk through the doors of your clan and prove to them that you were the diamond in the rough they've thrown but he's found.

You were his own butterfly. Beautiful to his eyes, you bestowed your wings; and to yours you cannot see but for people to admire.

"Give yourself more credit. You've done so much, my love."

© all content belongs to mochikeiji. Please do not repost or copy, ありがとうございました!! (=^･^=)

[jaemlynscharacters]

(This post contains OMITB S1-3 spoilers.) I really hope to all the gods that they're going somewhere with this because:

(Buckle up!)

A) My sister thinks Joy will be the murderer in the future and I just really hate the idea of that happening to Charles TWICE (especially after Joy told him she initially thought "this man dies alone"). Come on, let's please not make it a JOKE that Charles is MEANT to be alone because he's only attracted to murderers. That's cruel. Please tell my sister that. B) I just don't understand Charles feeling so sorry for this fish that he carried it around with him, but as far as we know he never tried ONE SINGLE TIME to try to get Joy back.

He just thinks that if Joy decreed it, it must be. His life is the glass pitcher that Joy put him into.

He can't even cry about it. It pisses me off, honestly, because he is SO proactive in other ways. Like when Jan was trying to kill him, in his own mind he was being a hero, helping to bring her down. When it came down to it and they needed to record the police interviews in his dressing room, he managed to make it through his entire song without going to the white room or making an omelet. Any time they need pictures of people for the murder board, he pretends to take selfies so they can get them. He defended Mabel when they caught and followed her with "tie dye guy" ... but he questioned whether Joy was the murderer and was afraid to ask her about it?

WTF, Charles?

That just seems a little bit out of character to me. ... Except for one thing -- it wasn't JOY's integrity that he questioned. He questioned himself -- his ability to choose a partner, his ability to interact with people. It was never Joy he didn't trust. It was himself. Just like Sazz says, in so many words. The Jan situation must have really thrown him.

Some people here have said that they felt Joy was trying to change Charles into a person he just isn't, but I disagree. It seemed to me that Joy accepted his faults. In fact, she listed how she looked past several of them right before she left. She was very considerate of his needs when they moved in together after MONTHS of dating and made sure to ask him if he felt "it was too much" aka "Are you overwhelmed by this?" She knew being that close would be a huge change for "Charlie" and she was thoughtful and careful about it until he assured her it was fine.

And to just BELIEVE him when he assured her, and not question whether he was in denial or lying, showed that she had faith in him to tell her the truth.

Maybe she was overly optimistic or even naive. I think she realized that later.

When she found out... - That he had questioned whether she murdered Ben.... - That he had ACCIDENTALLY proposed to her and never admitted it, even through all the wedding planning.... - That Charles had talked to not just Sazz but also Oliver and Mabel about her behind her back.... ...all while she's the one he's in an intimate relationship with, she's his chosen partner, he climbs into bed with her (often twice a day), she's the one that he should feel most comfortable confiding in when he's questioning the world ... THAT BROKE HER HEART.

It wasn't just a matter of Charles not being open. It was that while all that was going on, while they made plans about aisles and decorations and where they would get their wedding cake, he questioned her, and therefore their relationship was not as solid as she had been led to believe.

And for that matter, what kind of best friends convince a guy who is in a seemingly happy relationship that he would be happier alone?

For the sake of his play, Oliver literally convinced Charles to break up with Joy, and we know the rest of THAT story, Matthew Broderick. When the breakup finally did happen -- after Charles realized he did not want to be alone -- neither Mabel or Oliver offered any comfort, encouragement, or much sympathy. I think they were glad to see Joy AND joy go, which is entirely unfair in that 1. they encouraged him to be with Jan, 2. Mabel has had at least 3 relationships, and 3. Oliver is in love with Loretta (and she looked far more like the murderer for a while than Joy ever did).

It's one thing to not want competition for your best friend but Joy didn't seem to ever discourage the OMITB obsession or murder investigation. Yes, she thought it would be good for their relationship when Death Rattle ended on opening night, but once Death Rattle Dazzle was going strong, she not only tried to help Charles get through his patter song block but even helped Ben with his makeup on opening night -- without a single complaint.

All three of our heroes or antiheroes in this show are deeply flawed, even horrible people sometimes, and that's why we love them.

But in conclusion of point B, Joy is the victim in all this. I think she truly loves Charles and MIGHT be the only person in existence that really sees him and wants what is best for HIM -- him as an individual. And all she wants from him is that same consideration.

She saw the winks in the mirror and the kick in his step years ago. What does he see in her?

I am just so aggravated at that entire situation!!

And finally

C) President McKinley. The fish is a parallel to Charles, obviously. He is "meant to be alone." Charles feels so sorry for President McKinley after Joy leaves, and identifies with him so much, that he worries and carries the damn fish around with him and tries to find him water when he thinks the bag is leaking. I don't think the bag was even leaking. Do you? I think maybe that was Charles's psychological way of crying and releasing his grief. (Let's not even try to get into the symbolism of a toilet or being trapped in a room with a smoke/fog machine.)

Why in the world is that fish's name President McKinley? "I always wanted to be friends with a president but this one is a bully." What?

The real President McKinley was a controversial figure. He took a pay cut when he stopped being a lawyer to be a politician. He also furthered American imperialism. He was staunchly against slavery and fought in the Civil War. And he also did very little to help black people who were being harassed and attacked in the USA during his presidency. He defended a group of striking miners against their mining companies and all but one of them were acquitted.

And President McKinley was MURDERED. But he also called off the mob that might have killed his assassin. He has an interesting story, and I find it very interesting that of all the presidents, Joy named her fish after him.

What's that about?

In conclusion, there are so many reasons for this story between Charles, Joy, and this fish to be headed somewhere. And this is the kind of stupid detail I get hyperfixated on and it ends up making or breaking a show for me.

Don't disappoint me, OMITB!!

Okay I’m finally watching omitb season 3 and it may be the sleep deprivation talking but charles’s dumb loser ass truly loving and completely failing to care for his breakup fish is like. Doing something to me. I’ve nearly got tears in my eyes right now he’s such a pathetic old man

[burnedbyshoto]

for want of a bento box

– It’s plain and simple, you see, someone is stealing your bento boxes and you will find your lunch thief! Or, in which Todoroki Shouto keeps taking your bento box and you declare war. 

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pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: fluff, cursing, shouto is a bad chef, I believe I made reader pretty gender neutral but I whipped this out in two hours and I can no longer remember if I used any fem!pronouns but im pretty sure I didn’t

word count: 3,060

a/n: this is for the wonder coworker bnharem collab! I had intended on writing a completely different theme and storyline but was very overwhelmed by how much time it actually needed to be written compared to the amount of time I actually had. that version will be out another time! but for now, enjoy some pure flufffffff!!!!

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Having a normal, functioning, well-paying job was probably the most desirable thing to you. It wasn’t to say that you were slacking or that you were homeless, broke, and never to be seen again because you were that in debt. But it was nice having a job!

When you entered the prestigious Toshinori Company, you joined not as an entry-level job employee but as a senior representative. You thought it was crazy.

It had to be crazy.

You had no prior experience, and now you were going to be in charge and the lead in certain areas?!

“And that was the entire layout of the office!” Mina chirped happily, throwing herself onto the desk chair across from yours with a big smile. “Any questions?”

“I don’t think so,” you mutter, brows creased as you look around the room again. 

The office space was ample, sleek, open. Each desk has its own grand computer that you currently could not afford with your own money, comfortable chairs, and beautiful wood desks. It was elegant, far superiorly fancy, and yet, you didn’t feel out of place. Strange.

“Oh!” you say with a roll of your eyes as you reach below your desk to bring up your packed lunch. “Where was the break room again? I need to refrigerate my food!”

“Omg, of course, come this way!” Mina grins, standing up and motioning you to follow her. You smile gratefully and do. 

The entire way to the office, Mina takes the time to point at the many different people on the floor and give them names. Everyone so far had sort of acknowledged you earlier as Mina was giving you the official tour. Some were much more open and friendly, and some had sneers or blank stares that left you dumbstruck. 

Definitely a personable group.

“Hm, well, I guess Todoroki-kun isn’t here today?” Mina mutters as you enter the break room that has couches and comfortable-looking chairs. “Such a shame! You would have loved to see the office hottie!”

You snort at that, lips curled into a granulous smile as you place your plastic container with food into the fridge. “I’m sure I’ll live,” you brush off the fact that there was an absent person on your floor today.

“That’s the thing, though,” Mina points a finger at you, a lone eyebrow raised and a confident smirk on her face. “You won’t be thinking that again the moment you see him!”

You laugh, eyes crinkling as Mina joins your laughter. Eventually, she motions for the both of you to leave, and you nod in understanding. And with a weird sense of comfort and belonging, you realized that this job was going to be good. 

.

.

Eventually, you had been working at Toshinori Company for two months.

Sixty-two days to be precise, and in all that time, you had only met Todoroki Shouto once. Even then, you had only seen the man walking through the office with a blank face, fingers in his pockets as two other men were walking in front of him, bickering lightly.

Had Mina not quite literally thrown herself across the table and gripped the collar of your shirt and twisted your head to look at him, you would have never caught a glimpse at the man with red and white hair. The three of them walked into the break room and came back out with their own lunches before leaving.

And that was it.

You had learned that the three of them (Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku, and Bakugou Katsuki) were within your department but worked very closely with the very high up members within the company. Many rumors pointed at one of the three taking over the company when the current CEO stepped down. They were, however, on the roster for your floor; they just never appeared except to pick up their lunches. Something they seemed to come to grab whenever you were a) way too fucking busy or b) not in the room.

You weren’t too bothered, though.

It wasn’t like you were trying to date one of them! You had only wanted to say hi.

.

.

.

Now, at ninety days, you had your first and probably most crucial evaluation. 

Toshinori Yagi, the man who founded and currently ran this company, sat before you, looking at papers within a folder with tired but kind blue eyes. He nodded, impressed (hopefully), making small comments about the work you had been able to accomplish, a smile becoming a warming grin as he looked up.

“I’m impressed by the performance you’ve managed to attend to despite the short while you’ve been here, y/l/n-shojo,” Toshinori spoke, his fingers threading together and placing them onto the table. “I knew it was an excellent decision to put you in that position, and you exceeded my entire expectation!”

You flushed at that, lips twitching as you attempted to suppress that smile of yours. 

“Thank you, Toshinori-san,” you practically wheeze as he waves off your thanks.

“No need to thank me, you’ve done all this work!” he laughs, tired eyes closing with a glorious supply of crow's feet blooming at the corner of his eyes. “Typically, at these evaluations, I ask a bunch of questions because there isn’t too much anyone can do in their first ninety days, I must admit.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm, but because I am curious, is there anything that has been happening as of late that you feel needs to be addressed with me?”

You felt yourself stiffen but knew your one and only complaint was not something to bring up in this setting.

“No, nothing,” you shrug, and Toshinori beams.

“I’m glad!”

Now, the problem.

The big, fat, stinky, hooligan, wanting to throttle someone problem.

For the past sixty of your ninety days, someone has been stealing your lunch.

Yes, you heard that correctly; someone was stealing your damn lunch! Every morning you woke up and prepared a delicious bento box for yourself. Some days you went as far as cutting shapes into your fruits and veggies just to make yourself grin. You weren’t the best chef in the world, but your bento boxes were pretty enough to make up for it, in your opinion. But the thing is, every day when you went into the communal fridge, you noticed two things.

One, your bento box was no longer in the same place, and two, the bento box was not yours at all.

The food was disastrously organized. Rice and lettuce spilling out in every partition in the box. The fruit and veggies often packed in this box had multiple cuts in them, implying that whoever did this was less than ideal with a knife. The meat was often oversalted, the sushi never sitting together, and everything was just… not it.

The first time you had sighed and eaten it, grumbling about how your precious lunch was stolen. But you had quickly figured out that it was inedible, and Mina, Uraraka, and Yaoyorozu thank god, offered to share their meals. 

Seeing that you were distressed about how someone stole your egg and octopus sausages one day, Mina declared that they would watch the break room for whoever was stealing your light blue bento box. The first day you staked out, you had done it with Mina. But ten minutes into waiting around, you needed to pee. So you stood up and left in a hurry, leaving Mina alone.

But when you returned, Mina was gone, instead standing by Kirishima’s desk with a bright grin and a stance that screamed that she heard something she liked (gossip, possible in-office romance, a love confession?). Her jaw dropped as she noticed you and Kirishima had turned and waved in your direction as you raced into the break room to open the fridge, and sure enough, your bento was gone.

The next time, you staked out with Uraraka. Your arms were folded, your bladder cleared, and your lips twisted into a pout as you glared and stared down every single member who entered the room. Uraraka whispered to you her guesses about just who might be the thief, every other person rating an 8/10 likelihood of stealing your lunch.

But as the both of you sat there, your eyes narrowed at each passerby, no one came to collect your bento today.

“Deku-kun, no packed lunch today?” Uraraka asked as the green, curly-haired man you had only met once previously raced into the break room, grabbing the extra chopsticks meticulously hidden in the third bottom draw.

“Ah, Uraraka-san, y/l/n-san! Uh, no,” Midoriya greeted you both, who apparently responds to the nickname Deku, laughs off as he grabs a handful of napkins. “Todoroki-kun left all our lunches in his car by accident, and well… they spoiled… Kacchan’s pissed, so I ran off to get lunch for us today!”

Uraraka laughed, shaking her head, “Leave it to Todoroki-kun to act that way.”

Midoriya laughed, bright and clearly in agreement, “You should have seen his face when Kacchan asked for his lunch! I swear–”

“HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO GRAB FUCKING CHOPSTICKS, SHIT-KU! I’M FUCKING STARVING!” a voice roared from nowhere near the entrance of the break room. You did, however, jump a bit, eyes turning toward the break room entrance to see the blond man (Bakugou? Kacchan? You had no idea which was correct) near the entrance of the floor. 

“It’s only been a minute, Kacchan, relax!” Midoriya laughs, completely unaffected by the startling shout as he waves goodbye to both you and Uraraka before leaving, joining Bakugou as the both of them seem to talk comfortably… well, maybe more like bickering.

“Why are they–”

“Childhood friends, apparently,” Uraraka sighed, but the smile on her face betrays her exasperation.

No one stole your bento that day.

Yaoyorozu took up the third stake out, the two of you idly chatting about tea. You honestly had no idea what to talk about with Yaomomo; she was often just so elegant and mature despite being your age. When you learned that her family was in charge of the Yaoyorozu Corp, it had been strangely easy to accept that. 

It made sense.

So as the two of you stood at the kitchen sink, boiling water for tea Yaomomo swore would be the best matchup for your packed nigiri, the both of you missed the man who walked into the room, opened the fridge, and took your lunch.

“I… I am so sorry,” Yaomomo apologized, head bowed dangerously low as the both of you looked at the sloppily cut salmon in your not actual bento. “Please eat my food in reparation.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sigh, chewing on the somehow still warm salmon. “I deserved this loss.”

Luck was just on this man's side, it seemed. No matter what you did, you could never catch the man in action, and you were ready to give up.

But this was the last attempt you said to yourself as you returned to your office floor, the evaluation done, and the rest of your life coming to light. You could do this. No! You WOULD do this!

.

.

“Why don’t you just put your name on your bento box?” Bakugou asked, a lone eyebrow raised in what you could only assume was judgment and pity. The explosive man was standing in the doorway of the breakroom, watching as you and Mina were trying to climb up the counters of the breakroom to grab the camera you had previously planted. “Obviously, it doesn’t have your name on it.”

“Um,” you squeak, having been obviously caught by someone who intimidated you just the slightest bit. “That’s a good idea, thank you, Bakugou-san.”

“Tch, whatever, just clean up the damn counters, fucking nasty standing up on there. Some people prepare their food there.”

“We would never forget to do that!” you argue, desperate to not leave a bad impression on this man.

“I don’t know much about you, but I know raccoon eyes over there would.”

“MY NAME IS MINA!”

“Like I care.”

He left without so much as a wave but did seem to nod with his departure. You sighed as you hopped off the counter, Mina grabbing the cleaning supplies as she cursed out the long-gone man under her breath. 

But you were looking at the fridge with your missing bento box.

“I can’t believe I never put my name on it.”

“It’s okay! Not even Yaomomo thought of it, so I say we are still smart!”

.

.

.

It was the next day, you were at your desk, anxious as hell as you did your work, trying not to focus on the fact that it was lunchtime and you were actively avoiding the break room. You wondered if they wouldn’t come and collect it today. If somehow they were an asshole and wouldn’t care if your name was on it! What would happen then? What if it was someone like Bakugou who was taking your lunch? What then? You were sure you would cave in slight fear and major intimidation if he said that your lunch was his now.

“Want a cutie while we wait, cutie?” Mina asked, waving the small tangerine in her fingers as she grins.

“Please,” you say in gratitude for the food because you were starving. “Thank you.”

Eventually, you lost track of what was happening, becoming all too invested in the conversation that Mina was telling you about that involved Kaminari, Kirishima, Bakugou, Midoriya, twenty-seven Red Bulls, fifteen Monsters, and five shots of sake. It seemed that the former two were quite big instigators when they wanted to be, and the latter two were unable to back away from challenges, especially when the other was involved.

“Y/l/n?” an unfamiliar voice called from behind you, and you turned partially in your chair as you looked behind you.

Standing behind you was a tall man with red and white hair, and from this distance, you noticed immediately that his eyes were a deep grey and brilliant blue.

Todoroki Shouto.

“T-Todoroki-san!” you greet him back, voice unable to keep from trembling as your nerves shot up. What was going on? You two had never interacted before! He was always gone, never present, and whenever he was in the office, it seemed that you weren’t there.

He cleared his throat and raised up two identical bento boxes.

“It seems… I have apparently been stealing your bento boxes,” he concludes, pressing the blue bento box with your name written on it into your hands.

Your jaw drops as your fingers curve around the cool plastic, eyes blinking up a storm as you try to abstain from laughing high pitched and ugly like. 

“It was you?!”

A pink color blooms onto his cheeks as he averts his eye contact with you and nods slowly, “I am so sorry.”

“I just… how?!” you exclaim, exasperated, this man obviously being a bit dense if he had no idea he was taking your bento box!

“I prepare my bento boxes the night before, and I don’t really remember what I put into them….” Todoroki explains slowly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, his tongue clicking the roof of his tongue. “I just thought that my cooking was improving and that I was somehow doing an amazing job.”

The grin that overcomes your face is one of subtle, strange fondness and soft warmth. “I can tell you that you probably haven’t improved much,” you tease, opening your bento box to see your prepared meal for the day. 

Cucumber salad, bulgogi beef, rice, and some fruit.

It was packed exactly how you remembered.

“I can’t believe I finally get to eat a meal I prepared,” you continue to tease, your eyes moving up to meet Todoroki, who was also looking at your bento previously. “Thank you for returning my meals and apologizing.”

“It was nothing,” Todoroki waved off with a single hand before opening up his own disastrously assembled bento box. It looked worse than usual today. Everything was just thrown in, it seemed. You saw egg and rice, but everything else in there was indescribable. He smiles at you before sighing at his bento. “This looks more like my stuff.”

You laugh, shaking your head, “You want to share my bento box? I’m sure you probably don’t want to return to that.”

“No, it’s okay,” Todoroki gently declined, although he looked at your bento with great want. He cleared his throat, gaze moving to lock on yours, and you swore his cheeks were still pink but no longer from embarrassment. “I just wanted to come and apologize for stealing your lunch for so long and to thank you for the meals; they were all delicious. Especially the soba you had made.”

“It’s all good; it’s in the past now,” you say gently, somehow finding yourself falling for a man you’ve barely just begun to talk with. The both of you stare at each other, and your skin feels warm. You chuckle, gaze averting for a moment before returning as you tease him. “Although, if you steal from me again, I’m not so sure if I’ll be so lenient.”

“It won’t happen again, promise,” Todoroki smiles, and you feel your spine melt. “But I would love to make it up to you somehow. I can make you dinner one night or something?”

You laugh, head shaking, “No, absolutely not; I don’t trust your cooking skills just yet. But you can definitely take me out to dinner.”

“Yeah, I can definitely do that,” Todoroki agrees, and the both of you fall silent as the shy stares continue. “Does, um… is Friday at seven okay with you?”

“That works,” you say, and Todoroki smiles.

“Good, I’ll uh, see you then?”

“See you,” you agree with a sweet smile before turning around, your fingers raised in a small wave. 

You turn to see Mina, Uraraka, and Yaomomo staring at you, eyes comically wide and so very intrigued.

“Oh… my… GOD!” Mina shrieked as Todoroki walks away, and you shriek as she jumps across the table and shakes you, screaming about office romances and meet-cutes being entirely too underrated. “PROMISE ME I’LL BE INVITED TO THE WEDDING!!!!”

“MINA!”

.

.

.

.

.

It would take about three years of dating, several months of teaching Shouto how to cook, which resulted in a few bellyaches. Still, eventually yes, Mina would be invited to your wedding.

[cornholio4]

Chloe’s Luck Ran Out

If you don't like Adrien Salt or Chloe Salt then please look away. @nobodyfamousposts

"Okay girl, let's take it from the top and please repeat after me... I Marinette Dupain-Cheng..."

"I Marinette Dupain-Cheng..."

"Am allowed to feel any vindication and pleasure to the long overdue karma of a bully who had been tormenting me for years..."

"Am allowed to feel any vindication and pleasure to the long overdue karma of a bully who had been tormenting me for years..."

"I will not let any pretty boy model guilt trip me into thinking pity for someone who doesn't deserve it..."

"I will not let any pretty boy model guilt trip me into thinking pity for someone who doesn't deserve it..."

"And I will agree to babysit my super cool best friend Alya Cesaire's Sapotis twin sisters and her boyfriend's brother for her while she and Nino go out on dates with no pay."

Marinette in her room just silently glared at Alya with her arms folded as Alya started laughing, "Come on girl, I know there was little hope of me getting you with that but you can't blame me for trying girl..." Alya laughed as Marinette just humphed.

"Actually I do blame you very much Alya but thanks for the help here." Marinette replied her face forming into a smile as she thought about what had happened a while ago:

She was at the Le Grand Paris Hotel meeting with Jagged Stone over final preparations of a design for a new album cover when she looked up the stairs and saw a visitor had accidentally bumped into Chloe who reacted as only Chloe could. She was furiously ranting to the girl their age about the coco that she just spilt on her jumper without letting the girl try to apologise and then poured the rest over her head and pushed her down the stairs.

Marinette went and caught the poor girl before she land flat on her face though she ended up with a hurt ankle, Marinette glared at Chloe who looked unconcerned as she walked down but then there was Mayor Bourgeois and zooming past him in worry and concern was a very important looking man in a suit who took the girl who was his daughter into his arms to check on her. Marinette and Chloe were open mouth to discover this man was the French Prime Minister who had just arrived and asked what had happened and the girl relayed the story.

The Prime Minister was in a fury and Mayor Bourgeois tried to placate him and Alya gave a half hearted apology and even put more blame onto the girl than Chloe did. Marinette noticed the Akuma butterfly coming and pushed the Prime Minister back asking him to calm down as they noticed the Akuma before his bodyguards could take her off.

The Prime Minister had been brief of the Akumas and thanked Marinette for saving her and Marinette had been humble and jokingly said that she wanted to prevent another Akuma if she could help it and especially not another one caused by Chloe.

This alarmed the Prime Minister who asked for details and then he had to be told by his daughter that he was overwhelming poor Marinette, Marinette ended up saying about how many Akumas she had caused to most people she comes across and among the other students in their class and school. The Prime Minister had pulled back his calm telling Mayor Bourgeois that they will be checking in with a rival Hotel and he will be seeking legal action for Chloe's assault against her daughter and no attempts to placate him would change his mind as they left with his family's luggage. The man's wife needed no convincing after being told that that their daughter was thrown down the stairs by the owner of the hotel's unapologetic daughter.

In the investigation for the case there were plenty of witness testimony about how Chloe treated eachother and the students at Francois Dupont were more than happy to talk about what Chloe gets away with on a daily basis. Their families and others were joining in what was becoming a class action lawsuit. The CCTV footage of the hotel from the incident and others along with testimonies were damning evidence on their own but the train filled with people that she almost got killed trying to play hero and never apologised more brought even more charges against her.

Chloe was becoming more and more confused about how her father hadn't got her out of trouble yet and the lawyer had to spell it out for her that doesn't she think that even with the evidence against her; a high ranking politician of the entire country would have more resources than a city mayor even if said Mayor owned his own successful hotel?

Said hotel business' stock was going down and the opponents in the city election were more than happy to take advantage of this to mudsling Mayor Bourgeois.

Marinette found herself as a celebrity hero with the news talking about how she not only saved the Prime Minister's daughter from a harsh landing and suffering possible injuries but also saving the Prime Minister from being Akumatized. Nadja Chamack had so much pride in her voice talking about Marinette's role in the news story.

Chloe was taken out of school for now and this was met with celebration from the students and most of the faculty, Marinette was being celebrated as a hero to her shock. Chloe was expected to spend years in a juvenile centre and then a stint in prison. Adrien had started sadly speaking up wandering how Chloe was feeling isolated from her friends and everyone hating her, plus what as going on. Plus he seemed disappointed in Marinette after an interview where she opened up about what Chloe had put her through for years.

Marinette was taken aback but thankfully she had support of her classmates who were starting to give Adrien the cold shoulder, even Nino was disappointed in Adrien and that while he understood that Chloe was his childhood friend; that didn't change the fact that she was an unrepentant bully to the rest of them for years and had finally found the wrong target to bully. Even Sabrina couldn't bring herself to try and defend Chloe.

Sabine Cheng shouted that Marinette's boyfriend Luka Couffaine was here, "Now let's get your mind off Adrien because here is another pretty boy that is more worth you thinking about." Alya smiled as she helped Luka in and let the two love birds have their peace. Luka when asked didn't have any kind words about the bully of both her sister and her girlfriend, what he felt about Bob Ruth was tame in comparison.

[risusnet]

Something there that wasn’t there before.

Jonathan Crane x Reader

Summary: [Y/N] is a psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum. Bruce Wayne is holding a charity gala to help raise some funds for the asylum and [Y/N] along with some colleagues are invited. Her friend and crush Jonathan Crane was one of her co-workers that was invited too and they both enjoy the evening together.

Prompt: “Be still my heart.” Word Count: 2,626

You worked as a psychiatrist in Arkham Asylum and you, along with some of your other co-workers, had been invited to a charity gala hosted by Bruce Wayne which intended to help raise money for the Asylum. You were wearing a beautiful dress that you had picked out a few days earlier and had just parked up in your car outside the gala hall, you sighed feeling nervous to go in. There were going to be so many people there, one of which was Dr. Jonathan Crane, your friend and co-worker who you had been low-key crushing on for the past few years, your heart jumped into your mouth just thinking about him being there.

“I bet he’s wearing something really nice- wait no- he’s just your friend, shut up!” you thought aloud.

You pulled yourself together and got out of your car, shyly walking to the door and trying to distract yourself from the photographers and reporters at the entrance who were also here about the gala. 

“Name, please.” said a frightening-looking bouncer,

“Dr. [Y/N] [L/N].” You told him,

“Ah, I see your name, you may enter.”

“Thanks..” you quickly entered the hall.

It was a beautiful venue, priceless golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling of the corridor with marble lining the floor that led to a foyer. For a corridor it was massive, it felt intimidating. You cautiously wandered onward, the corridor was fairly empty with only a few people littered here and there, some people on the phone, some couples making out and drunk people stumbling around aimlessly. You reached the entrance of the hall and looked around, there were so many rich and famous people here, it was easy to feel like you didn’t belong here. You saw some of your co-workers spanning the hall, there were some of them together in groups, sticking together but then you saw someone in the crowd that was not with the rest of your colleagues. It was Jonathan. It felt like time stopped when you saw him, he was wearing a really lovely suit and you felt your pulse quicken, you took a step backwards and bashfully looked at the ground,

“Be still my heart.” You muttered to yourself.

You braced yourself and walked on into the foyer, you decided to get something to drink to set your head straight. After sipping your drink, you looked up only to lock eyes with none other than Jonathan on the other side of the room. He smiled at you and smiled back, if you had still had the water in your mouth you probably would have spat it out in surprise. Luckily, you were able to hide your surprise pretty well. 

The moment was cut short when a man who seemingly worked for Bruce Wayne came onto the stage and told everyone that the ballroom was now open and people began to make their way in the direction of the ballroom. You put your drink down and followed the crowd, you could see Jonathan up ahead in the corner of your eye and you tried to ignore him for your own good, however, you were doing a terrible job at that.

Once you entered the ballroom, you were mesmerised by how enchanting it truly was in here. You took in every last corner of it and smiled in awe. Your eyes travelled back down again and you suddenly felt a little shy again, remembering Jonathan was here. You really had to get a hold of yourself and forget your feelings whilst you were here, you had to act professional!

A soft song was being played by the orchestra they had hired and many people had already coupled off and started dancing and talking in the ballroom, you found a place off to the side to stand and took in the environment. Jonathan walked over to you and stood next to you,

“[L/N], Hello.” He nodded in your direction,

“Crane, good to see you.” You responded.

“It’s rather, chaotic, in here, isn’t it?” He smiled,

“Yeah, it’s a bit overwhelming,” you laughed a little.

You looked in his direction slightly, he was still just as handsome as before, shit. You ended up catching Jonathan's gaze on accident, to which caused him to speak,

“Would you like to dance for a little?” He said, his tone slightly softer than previously. You paused, you wanted to, but felt shy, how typical.

“Are you sure?” you crossed your arms and looked at him,

“It might be fun, plus, we may as well get in a few of the photos from the event.” He joked,

“Alright, sure, let’s go.” You both walked into the main area of the room where people were dancing. Your mind felt like it was literally screaming at you, you weren’t sure if it was in an ‘Oh my god, this is so exciting’ way or a ‘No no no no no, abort abort, abort mission’ way. Anyway, you still seemed pretty composed and he took your hand, either way. You started to lazily dance along with everyone else, you felt completely in your element and yet completely out of it at the same time, a very strange feeling, maybe it was just the nervousness.

Funnily, photographs were taken of you both, you spied it just out of the corner of your eye and you’re pretty sure he noticed too. Dancing with Jonathan and now you have proof of it? There’s some bragging rights! 

“Wait- what if people get the wrong idea? I’m gonna be hassled by questions and rumours going back into work.” You thought in your head. 

“What if those ideas are good ideas?” a voice replied. Voices aren’t meant to reply to you in our head so that means that…

“Huh- Did I say that out loud-” you felt a little embarrassed, then you remembered what he responded with, “..Hey, wait a minute-”

“Don’t worry about it.” He cut you off with a grin. Is he going to ignore what he said? Great, now you are going to worry about it, or more specifically, you are not going to stop thinking about this. Maybe, ever.

“If you say so.” Your eyes held a mixture of uncertainty and curiosity, whilst he looked slightly smug. There was a vague air of flirtatiousness between the two of you as you continued dancing, you both spoke to each other in a manner that wasn’t flirting, but borderline was. However, it was usually like this when you spoke, you just had that kind of dynamic. You can’t blame yourself for catching feelings in an atmosphere like that, right?

You felt a lot more comfortable than earlier, you had probably just gotten used to his presence. He was always good company and the rest of the bustling gala just seemed to phase out. There had come a point in which you and Jonathan had stopped speaking altogether and just had your eyes fixed on each other. You guys were also having a… moment? You were edging closer and closer to one another absentmindedly and a layer of tension filled the air. 

“Guests! Thank you for coming to this lovely gala we have been hosting today!” Oh yeah, that’s where you were. You and Jonathan stopped dancing and turned to face the voice and saw Bruce Wayne now on the stage introducing the event. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “You all probably already know why this gala is being thrown today, we are here to support our very own Arkham Asylum and its employees who work tirelessly to try to reform the criminals it holds. The dining hall is now ready for everyone so if you follow the butlers they will direct you to your seating! Thank you.” Bruce gave a winning smile and moved away from the microphone and off of the stage.

You looked to Jonathan who nodded in the direction of the hall and you both started to make your way over.

The room was beautiful, with hundreds of tables brimming the hall. You stuck to Jonathan like glue, because despite all of the friendly-seeming faces, it was still pretty nerve-racking and he didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he seemed to enjoy being your protector.

You were eventually seated, with Jonathan being in the seat next to you on your right. You were glad for that, at least. Apart from him, you were surrounded by a load of unfamiliar faces that lined your table, not that that was surprising, you couldn’t recognise 90% of the people attending this. 

There was a lot of, ‘How do you do’s and ‘What is your name’ and ‘Where do you work’ as everyone around you settled in. They asked you and Jonathan many questions about your jobs upon learning that you both worked at the asylum.

“So, Dr. Crane, what’s it like working with a bunch of criminals? Isn’t it dangerous?” one woman who appeared to be quite rich asked. She wore an expensive dress and a face full of extravagant makeup.

“Ah, well, we don’t just have them running rampant with a knife or such whilst we are in appointments with them.” His comment earned some laughter from the table. He was good at this, you smiled to yourself knowing you were in good hands and that you could relax a little because Jonathan knew what he was doing.

A different man, one who sat on your left side began to strike up a conversation with you.

“Dr. [L/N], a pleasure to finally talk to you. I have been meaning to ever since I saw you arrive!” This comment earned a suspicious side-eye from Jonathan but he quickly looked away and continued the conversation he was in.

“Oh, well it’s an honour to meet you, sir.” you politely responded and extended your arm to shake his hand, which he took, shook and lingered for a bit too long before releasing it.

“You must be very intelligent to be a psychiatrist. Where did you study?” He leaned over remotely closer, awaiting your reply.

“Gotham University for the most part! I enjoyed my time there, actually.” You tried to be oblivious to how he was acting, but it was super off-putting.

“Ah, a good one. I have known friends who have attended there!” His breath stinks of booze. He was closer still and you were starting to feel uncomfortable.

“Thank you, I’m sorry, but could you excuse me. I think I need to use the restroom.” He nodded his head and you stood up. Jonathan had an idea of what was going on and waited two minutes before leaving too.

You walked as fast as you could to get yourself some air. You were back in the foyer and nearly at the bathroom when a hand grabbed your wrist.

“[Y/N]!” You turned around and your eyes were met with Jonathan. “Are you alright?”

“I’m... I’m sorry. Everything was just really… hectic. I needed some air…” You weren’t quite sure what to say.

“Was it that man? Did he make you feel uneasy, or something?” His eyes looked full of care and concern. He really knew you well.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for dragging you out here, you can go, you don’t have to worry.” You tried to brush it off but he could tell how it got to you. He moved his hand, which was still holding your wrist, to hold your hand.

“I’m not just going to leave you here when you’re like this. I’m someone who cares for you.” He sounded truly earnest, it made your heartbeat speed up when he said that. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Trust me. If it will make you feel better, we can switch seats. If he tries anything, even if he looks at you in a strange way, I’ll see to it myself.”

“Jonathan… Thanks.” You smiled to which he returned it.

“Shall we?” His facial expression shifted to a smirk.

“We shall.”

You both made your way back to the table, sitting in each other’s seats. You realised you were still holding hands and had to unfortunately let go to sit down. You settled back down and the man from earlier began to speak.

“I think you two are sitting in the wrong seats.” He was so clearly annoyed but tried not to show his frustration by placing an obvious artificial smile on his lips.

“Hm, it seems that we are,” Jonathan said, turning to you. “Ah well, no point in getting up again.” He shrugged and was pulled into another conversation with someone on the table.

At some point, you had ended up placing your head on his shoulder to lean against which he let you do. It was comfy and by the time you realised you had done so, it had been about 5 minutes and he was fine with it so you decided to bask in the moment.

Bruce Wayne, that mysterious rich guy, was once again back on the stage. 

“Hello everyone,” he had a drink and a tiny spoon in his hand which he clinked to the glass to command everyone’s attention. “Now, I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear, is the best part, where I give you all a load of free food! Feel free to indulge yourselves as the butlers bring the food and beverages around to the tables.” Then he confidently strode off the stage and back to his seat. His table was less full of businessmen in suits and more full of beautiful women in expensive dresses.

Everyone turned back to their conversations as trays and plates came out of the ginormous kitchen hiding somewhere in the back. There were all sorts of food that you had yet to try in your life but you were eager to. You had to sit up though so that meant lifting your head off of Jonathan’s shoulder.

You, along with the rest of the guests began to eat the food served. Whilst also maintaining some light conversation. By this time, you had quite the collection of business cards handed to you by various people at this table. 

Bruce stood up to toast to the event, “Here is a toast, to this pleasant gala and to those we are holding it for. A toast to all of the incredible employees of Arkham Asylum who are and aren’t here today!” He raised his glass which everyone else followed suit with.

Half an hour later and everyone was finishing up their meals and you too felt very full and idly set your head back onto Jonathan’s shoulder. You looked up at him from there and he looked back, laughing a little before looking away again.

The gala was starting to wrap up and people were starting to leave. Bruce went onto the stage to say his official goodbye causing a massive flock of people to also call it a night for them there.

“We should probably give it a minute before leaving, save getting trampled.” Jonathan looked to you, who was still leisurely resting on his shoulder.

“You’re right.” You said watching people leave, “This was surprisingly fun.” 

“I agree, I didn’t expect to have this nice of a time. Maybe it’s just thanks to you though.” Jonathan now rested his head atop yours. 

“I’m glad you were here too.” You sighed happily.

“We should see each other outside of work more.” He said, nonchalantly.

“That would be nice.”

“Are you free next Saturday?” Oh wow, he’s good, real smooth.

“Yeah, in fact, I am.” 

“Looks like we’ll be doing this again soon, then.” He had that smug grin again. Then sat up, took your hand and you both walked out together.

[jaskiersvalley]

I'm OBSESSED with your writing and your stories, I'm so glad I found your blog, now I always have something new to read!! ❤️❤️❤️

I remember watching you blitz through the blog, leaving likes on a lot of the stories. It really made my day! Now, who knows how many months late, I bring you some silly Witchers and their mutagens.

Kaer Morhen’s Open Door Policy

When Jaskier was invited to Kaer Morhen, he’d thought the open door policy that Geralt mentioned meant that anyone was welcome to stay for the winter. It warmed his heart that the Wolves were so welcoming and generous with their winter lodgings. What Jaskier didn’t anticipate was that said open door policy was a literal thing. He arrived in Kaer Morhen with Geralt, they were stomping snow off their boots when someone rounded the corner at some speed. Slowing down, the man made a beeline for them.

“Lambert,” Geralt greeted before he was veritably bowled over in a hug. If Jaskier squinted, he could have sworn Geralt was given a long sniff and maybe even a lick, perhaps over the lips. But surely he must have seen wrong because Jaskier himself wasn’t given such a greeting.

Two more figures appeared and introductions were made to Eskel and Vesemir. It was quite nice really, even if a lonely winter with just the five of them. However, if gave Jaskier a chance to get used to the ways of the keep. Mostly, it was learning to leave doors open a crack and how to keep the hinges well oiled at all times. If he didn’t, it was guaranteed someone would turn up.

At first Jaskier had thought it was because he wasn’t trusted, not an accepted member of the pack. But that thought was quickly thrown out the window, especially when he was dragged into the cuddle piles in front of fires. Those were rather nice, if a little too warm and sweaty for his liking. Yet, every single time he forgot about keeping a door open, whenever it snicked shut behind him or clicked open as he stepped through, within ten seconds one of the other residents appeared. Usually it was Lambert, rounding the corner at quite a pace even as he tried to make it look like he hadn’t dropped everything and run. It was rather offensive in a way, at least that was what Jaskier thought until he was sat quietly in the library, Lambert browsing for something when his head snapped up all of a sudden and he was off at full pelt. That wasn’t the first time Jaskier saw him running. On more than one occasion Lambert almost bowled him over in corridors as he rushed towards whatever he had heard.

“Doors,” Geralt had explained quietly one night. “If we hear a door open or close, there’s this overwhelming urge to go see who it is, what had happened.”

Now that Jaskier knew, he paid more attention. Any door had Lambert running. Much more sedately, Eskel would usually follow, lumbering towards the source of the noise and trying desperately to look like he wasn’t doing exactly like Lambert. However, he had a weakness, as Jaskier discovered. The cupboard doors in the kitchen. If Jaskier, or anyone else for that matter, happened to go and look in one, Eskel was bound to bumble into the kitchen within a short space of time, looking bashfully hopeful. It was cute, Jaskier even started indulging and giving Eskel snacks because the way he softened and smiled at the offering was far too endearing.

“You’re only encouraging him,” Vesemir grumbled as he watched Jaskier hand Eskel half a slice of honey coated bread. Rather than argue, Jaskier gave Vesemir the other half, not commenting on how the old Wolf appeared for seemingly no reason in the kitchen. The treat certainly silenced him.

For a first winter, it was a good one. Jaskier was satisfied when he left that he was getting the hang of the odd open doors policy. It was the next winter that proved to test his patience. As well as the Wolves, there was a Cat there too. Haughty and aloof, Aiden spent most of his time perched up high somewhere. He slowly warmed up to Jaskier though, cautious at first. However, Aiden seemed to be rather fond of the open door policy, only ever opening or closing a door when he wanted attention. And that was rather frequently. More than once a day Lambert would go running because Aiden slammed a door somewhere, wanting to play.

It was all very well until Jaskier had to use the privy. That was one door that the Wolves learned not to run to. Even though Lambert still twitched, head swivelling it its direction before grumbling and returning to what he was doing. Jaskier was trying to just have a peaceful moment to relieve himself, a considerate two stalls down from an occupied booth when he heard someone else come in.

“Lamb?” Aiden’s voice drifted through the air, a little plaintive and lost.

“What?” Not all that unusual for Lambert to sound irritated.

“What are you doing?”

Jaskier’s eyebrows shot up at the question. What could Lambert be doing in the privy other than the obvious one of four things?

“I’m taking a shit.” Well, that answered which of the four it was but Jaskier could heard the sounds of a body leaning heavily against the door.

“Oh.” Aiden sounded almost disappointed. “I thought I heard some rustling like a snack being opened.”

“I promise I’m not fucking eating while taking a shit. Who eats in here anyway?” Grumbling, Lambert scoffed. “Don’t tell me, I bet it’s Geralt.”

Jaskier couldn’t hold his tongue anymore. “Geralt most certainly does not eat in the privy.”

The sound of a body moving and Jaskier knew Aiden was stood outside the door to his cubicle. “Jaskier. You’re in there.”

“No I’m not.”

For a moment there was confused silence before Lambert growled. “I swear Aiden, if you don’t leave us alone-” his threat was lost as Aiden moved back to Lambert’s door and there was an odd scratching sound. “No. Aiden. Don’t you dare. You can’t sit on my lap here! Not again. We almost broke it last time. Get out. Get out!”

The sound of a door being kicked shut and a huff from Aiden gave Jaskier a good idea of what had jut happened and he was scared to go out. However, not a minute later another voice joined the fray.

“What happened?” Eskel asked.

Jaskier buried his face in his hands in despair. So much for a peaceful piss.

The whole door thing was becoming quite ridiculous. Especially with Aiden slamming them to get Lambert’s attention. And then being offended whenever he encountered a closed door. Those were all gently knocked on and a head poked through if there was no answer. It meant nothing was private and Vesemir had to use a broom to get Aiden off the top of his wardrobe one evening when the Cat had gone missing all afternoon. He seemed to have no respect or care for anything, not when it came to prime napping spots.

It got to the stage that the common areas had their doors removed and Vesemir started hanging heavy furs in their place. Which did actually make the rooms warmer and there was no more needless running around. Though Eskel still bumbled into the kitchen in the hopes of a shared snack. Jaskier had rapidly cottoned on to the fact Vesemir fought such an urge in a novel and simple way. He was almost always either in the kitchen or within sight of it. So he could see if there was an opportunity for a snack without having to move. The old Wolf was clever, Jaskier had to give him that.

Some days, Jaskier did crave a bit of silence and solitude. Those were rare and far between days but they did happen. When they came, he took to wandering through the crumbling corridors of Kaer Morhen, trying to imagine what it had been like in its glory days. Quite amazing, he should think. So lost was he in his musings, Jaskier didn’t notice until too late that the floor wasn’t solid below his feet. It gave way and he fell with a yelp, landing awkwardly on his ankle. The pain was quite blinding, rendering him into a whimpering mess, throat tight and unable to call for help. Even when he managed to gather himself up, it didn’t seem to help. His voice just didn’t carry and the Wolves probably couldn’t hear him. It was cold, dark and Jaskier was in pain which made it difficult to think. There was a door not far from him and, in a moment of sheer desperation, he pulled himself towards it on shaking arms. Near enough, he reached for it and, with all his might, slammed it shut. It bounced open from the force and echoed through the room. Mustering up a little more energy, Jaskier shoved it again and the crack of door hitting frame made him wince. That would have to do. Jaskier managed to lie down, pillowing his head on his arms, shivering.

His hopes were answered when he heard the steady stomp of running feet skidding to a halt.

“The fuck?” There was the sound of a deep inhale as the area was scented. “Where you got to bard?”

“Down here,” Jaskier called back and squinted towards the hole he had fallen through. “My ankle.”

“Why would you do that? Wait. Never mind.” Lambert turned away and, a hand cupped against his cheek and lips he let out what could only be called a howl before his attention was back on Jaskier. “What did we tell you about wandering off?”

More feet, more people and Jaskier teared up in relief. He watched as Aiden hopped down the hole and took stock of the damage. A soft cry of pain left Jaskier as he was picked up and his ankle was jostled. In a few, seemingly easy, jumps, Aiden was passing Jaskier over to Geralt who cradled him against his chest. There was a still body-warm jacket draped over Jaskier and he burrowed into it, finding Eskel’s scent mixing with Geralt a comfort.

In the infirmary he was patched up, fussed over and, in the end, bundled into a pile in front of a fire where the others snuggled protectively up against him. By the next morning all the doors were back in place and Vesemir ground his teeth when Aiden slammed the kitchen one for Lambert’s attention.

[magniloquent-raven]

“so who’d you steal this from?”

billy’s head snaps up, and he nearly drops his cigarette. “what?”

his lighter glints in the afternoon sun when steve holds it up, tapping the initials scratched into dented metal, eyebrows raised.

billy goes cold. a chill that cuts deeper than the wind rustling his jacket, and his stomach drops.

he moves to snatch it from steve’s hand but steve lifts it away from him, over his head, out of billy’s reach, and he smirks, insufferably smug, smoke curling from the corner of his mouth. "if i keep it, that doesn't count as stealing, does it? if it wasn't yours in the first place?"

a year ago he would have shoved steve to the ground for that. today he crosses his arms and glares. the toe of his boot nudges steve’s sneaker. “it’s mine.” billy grits out, refusing to look anywhere but steve’s eyes. “give it back.”

steve watches him for a quiet moment, his expression softening. which is worse than the teasing, especially this close. billy takes the opportunity to grab steve’s elbow and pull his lighter back into nabbing distance. the fact that steve just lets him is almost annoying.

his thumb swipes over the inscription instinctively the second it’s back in his hand, and he turns away.

neither of them speak for a while. steve smokes quietly beside him, and billy hardly pays any attention to the cigarette burning to ash in his hand, too busy staring down at the zippo in his hand.

steve’s elbow pokes his side. “hey, i’m sorry if i—”

“don’t be.” billy sighs, and drops his cigarette, crushing it into the pavement with a careless heel. he glances around the empty parking lot. whatever stupid fucking club meeting max is in right now is taking forever. if steve wasn't waiting with him he'd have left twenty minutes ago.

"so whose was it?" steve pauses, his jacket rustling in the silence. "someone you left in california, right? ex girlfriend?"

"anyone ever tell you you're nosy as fuck?"

"no, most people like it when i take an interest in them."

billy barks out a laugh. "is that what you're doing?"

"maybe."

and.

well.

if that isn't just exactly what billy's been wanting to hear since he moved to this shithole town.

maybe not all of what he's wanted, but. it's enough to make his heart do a couple somersaults.

he glances at steve out of the corner of his eye. watches him fidget with the zipper on his jacket, face carefully neutral. "it was my ex's."

steve blinks at him. his surprise is short-lived, however, and he tilts his head, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. his hair falls across his forehead and billy itches to fix it. "yeah? parting gift, oor...?"

billy barely manages to keep himself from grimacing. "something like that."

they'd shared a cigarette twenty minutes before neil found them. he doesn't remember slipping the lighter into his pocket. but it was there, in a heap of dirty laundry on his floor when he got home from the hospital.

he hasn't gone anywhere without it since.

and he just handed the damn thing to steve without even thinking about it, shit. he doesn't wanna think about what that means.

"she break your heart or something?" steve's tone is light, in that forced sort of way, like he's trying too hard to be casual.

billy runs his thumbnail along the lighter's edge, staring out, unseeing, at the horizon. "nah." he exhales slowly. it's not exactly a lie but it still tastes like one, bitter in the back of his throat. "dad didn't approve, and shit got complicated." his mouth twists into a scowl. "'cause what neil wants, neil gets."

"ah," steve hums in understanding. like he has any goddamn idea. the urge to throw his sympathy back in his face is nearly overwhelming but billy bites his tongue. "my dad's like that." his voice has gone quiet, a faraway look in his eye, and billy's stomach clenches. he wonders if maybe steve understands more than he thought.

which might be why he says it. could be that. could be the fact that he's got a diploma and a wad of cash in his trunk and he can leave hawkins any time now, so maybe it's making him reckless, having a way out.

but it doesn't matter why, really.

he's not thinking about why. or what's next. he's just reacting and—

"yeah? your daddy ever kick you til you start pissing blood 'cause he caught you with a dick in your mouth?" he keeps his tone conversational, level, manages it despite his heart being in his throat.

"i..." steve thumbs at his bottom lip, gaze darting from billy to the school—the doors unmoving, parking lot still empty—and back to billy, drifting down his face. billy sets his jaw and waits, thrown off balance by steve and his lack of reaction. "no, but he did threaten to disown me after i got caught jacking a dude off at summer camp."

oh.

oh.

billy tongues the inside of his cheek. "that so?" he says faintly, still processing. "you. uh. you should tell me about that some time." he scratches his nose, and waves a hand at the school. "when there's no brats around."

"you gonna tell me about that if i do?" steve points to the lighter in his hand.

it takes a moment for billy to weigh his options, but it's a waste of time, he already knows the answer.

"okay."