#needed to yap about my job for a minute and how much i hate it

[elysiuminfra]

i want to talk about walmart for a second. if you haven’t worked or known someone who worked for walmart, you probably don’t know how bad it is. most people don’t, so i want to talk about it.

there’s a points system for absences. if you miss work, and can’t cover it with accrued time off (because you don’t just Get time off - it builds up over time. it takes about a month of straight work to get a day off.) you get a point. five points and you’re at risk of termination. all managers - team leads, and above them, coaches - have the power to excuse points so that you don’t get fired. some do, so you don’t lose your job. most don’t. five days, that’s it.

if you miss more than three shifts of work due to a medical issue, you have to go through a third party company (which isn’t really third party.) to get a medical exception so you don’t lose your job. it is hard to get this. they need a lot of documentation to prove that you somehow deserved to miss work. they don’t accept regular doctors notes. this is somehow nebulously legal. you are also forced to work while sick and infectious. flu, strep, covid, doesnt matter for all departments except produce and deli. even then, they only send you home if you throw up *at work* or have food-related illnesses. every other department you’re not allowed to go home. more than likely you are being exposed to someone who’s sick at walmart, because its either come in sick or get fired.

i work hard. everyone *has* to work hard. you are on your feet 8 hours a day. you can’t sit. there are no surfaces to sit on. some departments are harder than others. i worked in OPD, the online grocery fulfillment department. i would walk, bare minimum, 7 to 8 miles a day, hauling sometimes over 200 pounds of groceries. every day. now i work in the deli. you are constantly moving. this is very typical for the deli - you are given too many tasks to perform in one day. most days i can barely get enough done. i know people don’t take their legally entitled second breaks. I know people who have to work off the clock just to get everything done. my department - as is *most other departments* - is understaffed. i cook, clean, work the slicer, and dispense food at the same time. and trust me when i tell you the standards of cleanliness in my department is high, but in practice it is very, very poor. simply because there is usually only one of us working back there, and we just can’t do everything right all at once.

none of the “fresh” food in the bakery / produce area is fresh. the bread is baked in store, but the dough is made and frozen elsewhere. sometimes it’s been frozen for weeks. everything is shockingly artificial. same with produce. you’re better off buying your produce elsewhere, or even locally. walmart has been fraught with recall after recall.

people are cheated out of retirements. so many people I know that are at retirement age simply can’t. there are people working here in their 70s. they are being overworked. there are a lot of teenagers that work up front. they are being overworked. I know two kids who are disabled that work the register. they aren’t allowed to sit. one had to fight to be able to get a medical accommodation and only got one when he threatened to sue, because not taking a doctor’s note for an accommodation is illegal. they do it anyways. there are so many people i know personally that are disabled, have chronic pain, have mobility issues, and can’t sit. or walk miles and miles a day. one of my coworkers recently quit because she tore both rotator cuffs in her shoulders from this job. this job disables you. it kills you. (just look up how many people have died on the job due to negligence. it is not a small amount.)

even the prices are fake. sales are fake. rollback is fake. i notice how things are priced and they rarely change, even when they say they’re on sale. it’s a scam. you are being scammed.

we are overworked and underpaid for our labor. (speaking of, wages used to be higher by several dollars a couple years ago. they lowered them. my department paid 20 an hour. it only pays 16 now. almost all other departments are at a flat 14. it used to be 16.)

wage theft, lack of breaks, overtime violations, lack of sick leave, chronic understaffing and chronic abuse from management, not terminating employees that sexually harass coworkers, and piles and piles and piles of responsibilities. all of this is to say, walmart only operates because of how much they exploit their workers, and it’s in the top of the Fortune 500 list. it is impossibly dire. and it is in EVERY SINGLE store, because that is just how the work culture operates.

all salaried management is also given guides on union busting. unionization is impossible. there was one store that they completely shut down because of successful unionization efforts, laying off hundreds of people, and blamed it on “faulty plumbing.”

one last thing - if you are assaulted by a customer, you cannot defend yourself. nobody can help you, because none of us are allowed to put our hands in any capacity on a customer. if you are assaulted, you have no choice but to run and hide. I’ve heard of a worker at my store that was assaulted repeatedly over several days from people who would come in and beat her. they weren’t banned, and she was fired for fighting back. if you fight back, you’re fired immediately, no exceptions.

all of this is to say shop elsewhere. buy locally. buy at other stores. you will get better quality items and produce literally ANYWHERE else. if you can’t, be kind to Walmart workers. theres abuse at every step of the chain. even on the supply side. walmart is a corporate dystopian monster that only makes its money off of intense labor violations.

tl;dr don’t shop at walmart. it’s not worth it

[freedomfireflies]

Off the Shelf*

Summary: The second part to 404*

The one where you hate working with Harry and can’t ever seem to agree.

Except on one thing.

Word Count: 3.9k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

(Note: This edit is not mine!! I believe the @ is on it, but full credit to the incredible creator! It's so perfect!!)

“And what seems to be the problem?”

Instantly, you and Harry are at each other's throats.

“I told him two fucking times to check his email for confirmation—”

“She wouldn’t shut up about the goddamn code—”

“—like that’s somehow my fault when he’s never on time—”

“—already in the middle of fucking rewriting the last sequence—”

“—which is ridiculous because I already told him—”

“—can’t do fucking anything when she’s yapping in my ear all goddamn day—”

“Okay, okay, all right,” Mr. Prescott sighs, raising his palms in surrender. “Let’s just take a breath—”

“She’s fucking up our project,” Harry interjects before leaning back. “Sir.”

Mr. Prescott rests his arms on his desk and glances between you. “From what I remember, the two of you agreed to work on finalizing the AI program. Comb through the bugs and whatnot.”

“Yeah, well, that was before he decided it was a waste of his time,” you retort, ignoring Harry’s obvious glare.

“That’s not what I said,” he huffs. “I said that we need to be working on expanding the GUI—”

“Except that wasn’t a part of our job, so—”

“Oh, and what? I can’t try to make the program better?”

“Maybe if you knew how—”

“I got hired for the same fucking job you did—”

“A job you don’t even want to do—”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t do it—”

“Oh, bite me, Harold—”

“All right, all right,” Mr. Prescott interjects, running a hand down his cheek. “Listen, the two of you are more than qualified for the position and perfectly capable of executing the sequence you were designing. I understand it can be hard to collaborate, but this is what you agreed on—”

“I don’t mind collaborating as long as he does what I need him to do,” you correct while Harry scoffs and uses his knuckle to shove his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “He just doesn’t like to listen.”

“If what you were saying was worth listening to, maybe I would,” he agrees. “But until then, I’d like to handle my shit and you can handle yours.”

Stuck without much dispute, you bring your attention back to Mr. Prescott, eager for his response. 

The poor, older gentleman crosses his arms and studies you both, seemingly unconvinced but perhaps too exhausted to fight it. “That’s fine by me. As long as you’re reporting your progress to your supervisors – and to each other – I don’t see why you can’t work on different aspects of the sequence.”

“Thank you, sir,” you exhale, glancing toward your partner who’s already turning around on his heel. “Uh, we really appreciate it. And we won’t cause any more trouble. We swear.”

“She swears,” Harry calls, already halfway out the door. “I don’t swear anything.”

Biting back a snort, you scurry after him and toss Mr. Prescott one final, “Thank you again!” before the door falls shut.

Harry is rounding the corner when you finally catch up, hands shoved into his dark jean pockets, and shoulders slightly tense. It’s not unusual, you suppose. He’s always tense. Muscles rigid beneath his clothing. Lip perpetually stuck between his teeth as he gnaws on the pink fibers until they tear and bleed. And glasses that are always about halfway down his nose from the bouncing of his knee.

He’s striding through the lab like he’s got somewhere important to be, and it drives you fucking mad because he’s technically done for the day. The only thing the two of you have left is a staff meeting with your supervisor before everybody is allowed to head home, and that shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.

But you don’t like when he walks like that. You aren’t sure why, but it’s always irritated you. Like he thinks he’s so goddamn special – so important. Like his presence is so valuable. And even worse, he’s always walking away from you. Like your presence isn’t.

However, instead of going straight to his desk – his favorite hiding spot – he rounds another corner and disappears into the next hall.

You pause, unsure whether or not to follow. He had to have known you were right behind him, so is he leading you somewhere? Or is he simply trying to escape you?

Either option seems likely.

Curiosity outweighs logic, and you continue after him until you manage to find where he’s disappeared to.

He’s hiding in the shadows of the abandoned walkway, lurking near a door you don’t recognize, his eyes now on you.

You skid to a stop, confused and a little cautious of the smirk on his face. “Uh…what? What are you…the hell are you doing?”

“You are so fucking annoying, you know that?” he scoffs, nodding his chin at you. “‘Oh, Mr. Prescott, Harry’s being mean to me. Oh, Mr. Prescott, Harry won’t do what I want.’”

Your eyes narrow at the falsetto tone of voice used to mock you. “Fuck you, I’m just trying to get our shit done and over with so we can move on—”

“Clearly,” he hums, but it’s riddled with sarcasm. “No, yeah. You wasting time going through the same data I’ve already been through is a great use of our time—”

“I’m going through it because I’m trying to make it better—”

“I made it. It was already better—”

“God, you are so fucking dumb—”

“Yeah, and you’re a cunt,” he retorts before he’s reaching for the door and swinging it open. “Get in.”

A bit stunned by the sudden and strange command, you blink. “...what?”

“I said, get. In. What, are you deaf and stupid?”

“Harry, it’s the middle of the goddamn day—”

“Get in the fucking closet, Tinkerbell, before I come over there and make you.”

Your eyes roll but you aren’t about to pretend you aren’t intrigued. Despite your revulsion for him, he seems to be in possession of the cheat code to your sex drive. All it takes is a look or a suggestive comment (or a rather rude demand for you to get inside a tiny storage closet) for you to fall victim to his intentions.

And it’s been that way since you met him. 

Which only makes it that much more infuriating.

You obey – with a pointed scowl – striding past him and into the small space as he follows suit and pulls the door shut.

A light flickers on overhead, allowing you to see Harry’s amused expression as you huff, “Now what—”

He kisses you. Instantly and without a single moment of pause. His palms quickly press to the wall beside your head, caging you between his arms as he takes your tongue between his lip and sucks. 

His glasses are cold against your face. You remember how they used to scratch you when the two of you first started this little arrangement but they don’t as much anymore. You think he might have changed the frames for this very reason, but you aren’t sure.

After all, that would be nice, and Harry isn’t nice.

“Harry—” you pant during a quick gasp for air. “We don’t have time—”

“I’m making time,” he counters, pressing his hips into yours while his mouth moves to your neck.

You want to snort your exasperation, but you’re too far lost in the feel of his body. “I thought you had shit to handle.”

“I do,” he replies smoothly, his hand now curving around your cunt until he can squeeze it tight in his grasp. “This is me handling my shit.”

His touch is unforgiving but incredibly welcome, and you whine softly before quickly reaching for his hair. “I thought I was annoying.”

“You are,” he says, sucking bruises into the space below your ear. “But there’s something about the way you stomp your little foot and tell on me that gets me all hot and bothered.”

You yank on his curls until he hisses, although he’s still much too smug. “So this has nothing to do with the girl who dropped by earlier? Or the fact that you apparently couldn’t finish?”

His eyebrow raises but he’s biting back a smile. “What girl?”

“Ha. Very funny. Are you gonna fuck me or are you gonna try to be cute?”

“Why can’t I do both?” he retorts, grinning wildly before pressing his lips to yours once more. 

It feels familiar, this routine. This dance you’ve so quickly memorized, and it becomes increasingly easier to play along as you scratch your nails against his scalp and tug on the loop of his pants.

His hand slips into your jeans, the tips of his rough fingers smoothing down the front of your panties. A teasing touch, and you jolt in his hold before grabbing onto him harder.

“Harry,” you sigh, lashes fluttering as your head falls back into the wall behind you. “God, just…hurry. Please—”

“No.” It’s an easy response. Cruel, almost. But he’s focused on you. On your body and the way it responds to him. “I’m working right now, Tink. Leave me to it.”

He crouches down, pulling on the fabric around your legs until it pools near your ankles. He seems tantalized by the way your pussy sits so close to his face. The way it looks behind the pale blue cotton with the tiny bow. 

He surges forward and presses his mouth to you. Lapping at the material until there’s a rather obvious wet patch – either from you or him, you can’t really be sure – while making your eyes roll back.

“Shit,” you whimper, once again grabbing onto his curls for stability. “God, Harry…we don’t have time for this.”

He smirks against your cunt before dragging his tongue over your covered clit. “D’ya want me to stop?”

Your lips form around the word, “Yes,” but what comes out is a very strained and breathless, “No. Please, no.”

He grins, large palms kneading on the flesh of your thighs to keep them spread before he lands a firm smack to your leg. “Good girl.”

His technique is sinful. Ruthless yet mesmeric, and you look at him with a kind of wonder you can’t explain.

Harry isn’t anything like what you expected. He’s incredibly smart and focused. He cares about his work to a point of obsession. He’s a perfectionist, through and through. He’s diligent and has a great attention for detail.

And yet this man has the most insatiable appetite for sex. 

His list of kinks is a mile long. He’s out almost every night at bars, at clubs, at parties. He likes degradation, he likes pain, he likes bondage. He likes to bend you over your desk and spank you until your skin is raw and red. He likes to yank on your hair and drag his teeth down your throat. He likes to go deep – likes to go hard and slow. 

You aren’t sure why you assumed he’d be docile and a bit vanilla in bed. Perhaps it was the glasses or the way he always corrected your grammar. Which you know wasn’t exactly a fair assumption, but you didn’t have much else to go on.

Well…until the first time.

“You’re holding your breath,” he murmurs from beneath you, forcing your attention back. “Stop doing that.”

Sucking in a quiet inhale, you oblige. “Sorry.”

You have a rather dangerous habit of taking in large gasps for air when he’s eating you out or making you feel good and then forgetting to release them. Which is all fun and games until you begin to feel a bit lightheaded and nearly pass out. In fact, one time you almost did, and it had scared Harry so bad, he refused to touch you for about a week.

Glancing up to make sure you’ve obeyed, he nods once. “Attagirl.”

Your cheeks warm slightly at the praise – another nasty habit you wish you could break – before he’s diving back in.

Despite the way the seconds are ticking by on your watch, Harry continues to revel in the taste of you, even through your panties. He hums until your legs shake, head bobbing to accompany his mouthing at your pussy.

He enjoys eating you, even like this. He always has and you can’t say you quite understand it. Perhaps it’s the power it gives him. The way you whine and whimper. The way you grab at him and give him everything you have to offer. The way you fucking hate him…yet you still let him in.

“Harry, please,” you nearly groan, tugging on him again. “If you’re gonna fuck me, then fuck me already. We don’t have time.”

He makes a tsking sort of noise before nudging his tongue against the front of your underwear. “God, you’re no fucking fun, you know that? And to think I was actually gonna take my time with you.”

Your expression is playfully unamused, but you can’t deny you’re somewhat curious.

He lands another spank to your leg and stands back up. “But that’s not what you want, huh? You just want me to be quick. Want me to fill you up and send you on your way. Don’t want me to play with you.”

You watch as he flicks his belt open and steps closer to you, a rather salacious look in his eye.

“And wouldn’t that be a shame?” he whispers, long fingers sweeping up the inside of your thigh. “For you to go into that meeting with my cum dripping down your leg? When you can’t do anything about it?”

You feel your breath catch, throat going dry at the way he drags the tip of his nose along your jaw. You want to resist him – you should resist him. And yet… 

“Maybe it would be,” you reply coyly. “If you could get it up.”

To accompany your taunt, you reach down and press your palm to his cock, smirking when he sucks in a sharp hiss through gritted teeth.

“Seems you’ve gone soft on me,” you murmur, squeezing once more for good measure before releasing him. “That’s the real shame.”

The hand beside your head smacks against the wall. “S’cute, Tink. Real fucking cute—”

“Is it because of her?” you ask, straightening up until you can ghost your lips along his. Close, but not close enough. “Could she not take your tiny, little dick down her throat?”

You notice the way he swallows. The way the muscles in his arm flex beside you. The way his lashes flutter angrily from behind his glasses.

“Or could you not get yourself off?” You reach for him again. He's already beginning to harden from your touch – your voice – and despite yourself, your ego swells. ��Was it when you were fucking your fist in your car this morning? Were you thinking about her? Is that why you couldn’t get hard?”

Something finally snaps, and instantly, you feel his fingers slipping around your throat. Just hard enough to make you grin. “What if I was thinking about you?”

“Mm. I don’t think so. Said it yourself. If you’re thinking about me…you’re always hard.”

He’s amused by this, squeezing your neck before surging forward to kiss you again. “Naughty little Tinkerbell.”

You smile.

With this, he spins you around and tosses you toward the empty and somewhat dusty bookcase in the corner of the closet. His touch is firm and unrelenting. Perhaps even a little cruel. The way he tugs on your hips as though to punish you. The way he shoves you until you’re bent over the shelf, allowing him access to your body like it’s his right.

And you don’t mind. This is the kind of dominance you’ve come to expect from the quiet yet horny man you work with.

Your underwear is yanked to the ground, the sound of a ripping stitch echoing throughout the small space. You frown but you don’t comment.

His palm smooths along your pussy, cupping it somewhat gently before his thumb flicks across your clit. He just wants to see you jump. Make you whine and push back into his touch. 

You hear him chuckle. “Easy, princess. Gotta make sure you’re ready first.”

“I’m ready, just go,” you huff, staring down at the dust beneath you. 

His finger slides inside your cunt, feeling you out for only a moment before retreating. “I don’t know. Seem a little tense.”

“If I’m with you, I’m tense,” you retort, making him smile. “Go already.”

“Now, now,” he warns, slipping in a second finger. “You wouldn’t rush Picasso, would you?”

You groan. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Harry—”

“What?” He’s enjoying himself. “I’m the painter, and you are my art.”

“No, you’re fucking irritating, that’s what you are.”

“Oh, come on, I thought girls liked sappy analogies like that.”

“No, they like to get fucked. So, hurry up already.”

He lands another smack to your ass before dipping down to whisper, “As you wish.”

You hear the sound of him pulling himself out before you feel the tip of his cock dragging through your arousal. Collecting every drop while slowly pushing in.

He’s right, you are tense. And the stretch that accompanies his large size is enough to make you wince, yet…you love it.

Despite the slight pain, it feels good. Full in every sense of the word, and you focus on the deep breaths you’re taking as your nails begin to curl into the shelf. 

Through clenched teeth, Harry calls, “You okay, Tink?”

“Mhm,” you hum, lashes fluttering shut. “This is easy. In fact, you could go faster, actually.”

He exhales a strained laugh, readjusting his hands on your hips. “Funny.”

“Yeah, I’m hysterical.”

He pushes in a bit further but still slow. He knows your body well enough to know what it can handle. And he understands his size is a touch above average. 

Although he never lets you forget it.

“Being so brave,” he coos with a playful air of condescension. “My brave girl, yeah? Taking it like a champ.”

“Bite me, Styles.”

“Yeah? Just tell me where.”

You get ready to respond, but your remark is ripped from your throat when he suddenly drives in to the hilt. Ripping off the band aid and giving you exactly three seconds to adjust before he begins to fuck you.

The push and pull is everything. The pace, the anger, the pain. His hand is against your scalp, keeping you bent and pliable to his intentions. He’s grunting softly, slowing down just to speed back up. He listens to the noises you make, the way you clench around him. And he uses that to decide what he does next.

Your heart is hammering in your chest and your stomach is doing cartwheels. It’s as though this is the first rush of relief you’ve felt in weeks. Your hands can’t do it. Your vibrator can’t do it. Not even the guy you met at the bar could do it. 

Nobody can do it like he can.

And you fucking hate it.

He lets go of your hair to reach around and slip his hand up your shirt. Finding your tit and giving it a nice squeeze before slapping his palm along the tender flesh. “Oh, you like that, princess, don’t you?”

You nod faintly, whimpering from the subtle sting, silently requesting he do it again. 

So, he does. “S’cute how much you love when I hurt you. Makes me think you might even like me.”

You manage to scoff between unhinged whines. “Shut up, Harry.”

“What? It’s the truth, isn’t it?” he continues. “You like me more than you think you do. That’s why you always do what I ask. Like a good girl.”

You sneak a glimpse over your shoulder, studying the crooked angle of his glasses, and the slight smirk on his face. 

He’s cute, you think. He’s always been kind of cute, but he’s especially cute when he’s ripping you apart from the inside out.

He meets your eye and travels his fingers down to your clit. “Need more, don’t you?”

But you don’t just need more. You need everything. 

He pinches you tight and readjusts his stance to make sure he’s fucking into you at just the right speed. Just the right place to make your back arch and your toes curl. 

“Gonna have to cum for me,” he grits, the graveled request woven between your anxious moans. “You wanted quick, so be fucking quick.”

You nod your agreement, the pleasure at the base of your spine building until it becomes your singular focus. 

You hadn’t realized you were this worked up. Hadn’t anticipated being so close to release after such a short amount of time but maybe Harry was right about something else. Maybe fighting with him is your aphrodisiac.

The first few sparks explode behind your eyelids, taunting you with more as he begins to groan softly from behind you. 

“Fucking shit—” His hips are slapping into your ass, the sound of your arousal being fucked into you by his cock like music to your ears. “There you go, princess. Just like that – keep squeezing me. Yeah…fuck.”

He’s close and you clench around him to get him closer, needing to feel him fill you more than you need air in your lungs. 

When he does, it tips the rest of the dominos. One after the other until everything is falling apart. The warmth of his cum inside of you, the pulsing of his cock in your pussy, the scattering of pleasure between your thighs.

And he sounds so beautiful. Rough and exceedingly desperate. The most perfect, delicious sound and it makes your stomach flip in the most excruciating way. You could listen to him for hours. Could get off to his voice alone, the way he grunts and moans for you. The way he says your name through a heated curse and spanks his hand along your ass.

“S’fucking good, Tink,” he exhales, tightening his hold on your waist to keep you upright and steady. “Milk me, baby, come on. Fucking take it.”

You can feel him dripping down your legs. Can feel the heat and the soreness already settling but you thrive off it. Indulge in the way he takes care of you for a moment more before finally pulling out and turning you around.

He checks your face for signs of distress. Brows furrowed and expression scrutinous from behind his glasses. You can tell he’s got another sarcastic comment locked and loaded but before he can fire it, you reach up, and slip the frames from his nose.

Then, you kiss him. Hard and with fervor. It’s oddly passionate – perhaps filled with the lingering frustration from your previous altercation. But you don’t mind. It feels like him.

After a minute or two, you pop off his tongue, return his glasses to nose, and shove him back. “And now we’re gonna be late.”

He smiles to himself, stepping closer once more to run his thumb just beneath your eye. Collecting what you assume are dried tears and runny mascara. “Oops.”

However, before you can pull your jeans back on, Harry is crouching down and grabbing onto the material for you.

He pulls your panties up and secures them around your hips, ignoring the sticky cum beginning to seep out of your pussy. 

Confused, your eyes narrow. “Har—"

“I told you,” he says calmly while zipping your jeans. “You’re gonna go into that meeting with me inside you.”

You feel your heart skip.

“But maybe if you’re good,” he whispers before looking up with a devious wink, “…I’ll do something about it.”

Next Part:

~ SnakeBite*

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~ 404*

~ Full 404 Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

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[ohdeerfully]

hello there!

was wondering if I could request Alastor and reader having a debate over whether radio or the newspaper is better than the other (reader was a journalist in 1930’s New York in their past life). Heated debate that ends with fluff.

thank you!❤️❤️

hi thanks for the request!! honestly it doesnt really end with fluff, more just alastor being confused and also confusing, and im super sorry for that :sob: but i hope u enjoy it anyway!!! kiss kiss

What Would the Papers Say

Alastor x Reader (not explicitly romantic)

TW: none! join my discord!

◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈

Alastor stood in front of you, a tight smile and narrowed brows decorating his face as he stood ominously over you. You swallowed, hard, as you had to crane your neck significantly to look him in the eyes. He waited impatiently for your words, his smile inching to become larger and more sinister by the second.

You took a deep breath and steadied your gaze against his, staring into his maliciously red eyes.

“Why can’t you just admit your wrong,” You said snidely, “The newspaper reached so many more people. And gave more people jobs. And was just better in general, really.”

Alastor laughed at you with closed eyes, something he would tend to do in arguments. He liked to make the other person feel ridiculous. 

“How wrong that is!” He snapped back, eyes settling on you again. “My dear, the radio had much more value. Could your rolls of paper play music? Speak to people? All I see is a boring, colorless, dry wad of useless writing.”

You balled your fists in anger, restraining yourself from getting physical. You wouldn’t be able to land anything, anyway, so there was no point in trying. 

“That ‘useless writing’ was my life’s work, you dick!” You spat, heart clenching slightly at the thought of him considering something so important to you useless. “Some people don’t like to listen to an annoying asshole yap in their ear for forty minutes!”

Alastor waved his hand dismissively at your attempt at an insult, his smile never faltering in the slightest. If anything, it grew wider when he saw your growing frustration. “But more people like listening to the asshole’s stories than reading the drab paper, no? News travels so much faster verbally! Why else do you think the paper lost popularity after the radio was introduced?”

You lost any response you had, eyes falling to the floor in defeat. Your stomach churned with unease, hating that you were losing an argument to Alastor. Yeah, it was hard to win against him in the first place, but it still pissed you off.

“At least we had fun comics to read…” You muttered in a weak attempt at a retort, folding your arms.

Alastor only barked a laugh in response, stepping forward and grabbing your chin with his sharp claws to tilt your eyes back up to him. He wanted to see your eyes glimmer with defeat, it was something he loved to see when he beat somebody in an argument—especially over something they were so passionate about.

However, his smile weakened by a hair when he saw your eyes, slightly shining with held back tears. You still had a look of frustration and you were confidently staring right back at him, but for once… he didn’t really like the look of miserable defeat. Not on you. 

Alastor’s grip on your chin dropped so fast, as if you burned him, and his eyes darted away from yours. His brows were furrowed in what you perceived as confusion, but the expression vanished nearly as soon as you recognized it. 

“Agree to disagree, then,” He said finally, looking back down at you through slitted eyes. He turned with a dramatic flourish, briskly walking away. He turned his head slightly towards you as he spoke one last time, “though, the radio’s never been used for fire kindling.”

Alastor did not like the way you made him feel. He didn't like that your grief made his own emotions go haywire. He was going to find out what it was about you that made him feel... weak, was it? He wasn't sure, but he just needed to get out of there.

You cursed at him, though he paid your words no mind. You could tell by the way his ear flicked in your direction that he had at least heard your frustrations. You finally let your confident face fall, and with a pout you traveled towards the hotel lobby. You needed a drink.

“Bold to argue with Alastor like that,” Husk gruffly commented as you sat down, slumping your shoulders. His arms were folded over his chest, and you awkwardly rubbed your arm.

“You heard all that?”

“You aren’t exactly the quietest.”

You sighed, resting your head against your palm and drumming your free hand against the bartop. “That’s embarrassing,” You said simply, chewing on the inside of your cheek. It wasn’t uncommon for racket in the hotel, but you typically held yourself to a higher standard than being the cause of said racket.

Even though you were upset about the argument, you couldn’t help but visualize that expression on his face when he looked at you earlier. What was that? Concern? Regret? Or were you just reading too much into it? And why did he leave the room so quickly?

You pondered over this as Husk slid a drink over towards you, the glass leaving a watery trail from building condensation. You gave him a small smile and silently sipped at it for a few minutes.

You tried to tell yourself you didn’t care one way or another what those emotions Alastor displayed were. He was a jerk. He put you down for what you were passionate about, and what you had dedicated your life too. What a dick. You didn’t care. Nope.

With a groan, you tilted your head back to finish the glass and nodded a thanks to Husk again before you made your way up the hotel stairs. Without realizing it, your legs seemed to take you to a particular floor and to a particular room that you would’ve rather avoided. You briefly wondered how strong that drink was that Husk gave you.

You held your fist up, paused for a few seconds, and then knocked. Why were you even here in the first place? You weren’t going to apologize. You opened the door yourself when you heard a faint ‘come in,’ slowly pushing it forwards and cracking it open just enough to peek your head through. Your eyes trailed around the room before you finally saw the demon in a bayou-like setting. 

Alastor was sitting leisurely on a metal chair, one leg thrown over the other as he sipped on a mug. His eyes were barely open as he relaxed, and you could only slightly tell that he was looking at you.

“It’s rather impolite to interrupt somebody’s alone time,” He quipped as you walked the rest of your body into the room. “Especially somebody you pestered and yelled at only an hour ago.”

You bit back an angry comment, and kept your breathing level. You shouldn’t let him get under your skin like this. You clenched your fists, but otherwise maintained a cool attitude. You walked towards the corner of the room, examining the scenery before you. You wondered if the forest was actually that big, or if the wall was just an extremely well illustrated illusion. It wouldn’t surprise you if Alastor was eccentric enough to manifest a whole bayou in his own room.

Alastor looked up at you from his seated position, though he still seemed incredibly tall even as he sat. He had a grin spread across his face, and his head tilted slightly at you.

“Need something?” He tried prompting a word out of you. You hadn’t said anything since coming in, and curiosity began gnawing at his thoughts. He was frustrated, truthfully, about the earlier experience he had with his own confused, jumbled thoughts.

You honestly didn’t know why you came to his room. You didn’t really know what to say. You weren’t going to apologize or grovel for forgiveness, and you knew he would never ever admit he was wrong, either.

“You know,” You started slowly, voice just above a mutter. “The newspaper and radio could’ve worked together… one doesn’t have to be better than the other.”

Both grin and eyes widened at your comment. A wave of Alastor’s hand materialized an identical chair across the table, and you sat yourself neatly—and, a bit awkwardly—when he gestured for you to join him.

“What a thought,” He replied, bringing the mug to his lips again. His comment didn’t really give you any insight to what he actually thought about your statement. Though, you should’ve guessed. He has a superiority complex so big he would never admit to anything being on an equal level to him.

Still, you smiled weakly at him. You watched as his gaze studied you, maybe a bit too intently, and you momentarily saw that strange expression shift across his features. Just as before, you barely had time to consider it before it vanished.

“Tell me,” Alastor said, leaning back into his chair. A mug manifested in front of you as he spoke, and with a smell you could tell it was your favorite tea. You wondered if he actually knew, or if it was just something he could do magically. “If you are so keen on the radio and paper working together…”

He paused dramatically, and you clenched your jaw in response. How aggravating his knack for showmanship could be.

“Would you care to make a deal?” There was a sinister look in his eyes as he said the words, his grin twisting up his face with his sharp teeth bared at you. You felt a prickling at your neck, a bit uncomfortable.

“I don’t really… want you to have my soul, dude,” You responded, fiddling your fingers around the rim of the mug in front of you. 

That sinister expression lightened, and he cheerfully waved a hand at you. “No, no, no,” He laughed, leaning forward and letting his elbows rest against the table. “No soul contract. Just… say, a mutually beneficial partnership. Radio Demon and Newspaper Demon. Interesting, right?”

“I… guess,” You replied slowly, considering it. Hey, if your soul wasn’t involved, what was the big deal? How much power could Alastor hold over you if he didn’t have your soul?

A lot, probably.

You shrugged. “Sure, deal.” 

Immediately after your response, a shining sheet of paper and an outdated quill appeared in front of you. You eyed Alastor warily as you took the sheet, reading over the terms of your deal. Honestly, it didn’t seem that bad. It only really iterated your loyalty to him, and in return he’d give you the same. 

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was a weird attempt at courting you. Weird.

Your eyes moved back to Alastor, who was watching you intensely. He had that strange expression once again, and it was starting to frustrate you. Why did he keep looking at you like that? And what did it mean? The room was silent for a few moments, save for the flickering noise of the ever-present radio frequency that followed the demon in front of you.

You took the quill, signed, and after a dramatic flash of light the paper was gone and you saw Alastor sitting with his eyes closed in an overly pleased smile. He clapped his hands together for a moment, before settling his sharp gaze on you once again.

“Well, my dear,” He leaned his chin on top of his hands, which were clasped together. He had a dangerous glint in his eye. “Mind if I take you for lunch to celebrate our new partnership?”

[hiraethwa]

hello Ave!!! What lovely weather we’re having <3 welcome to inbox infiltration season 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

On today’s menu I have *checks clipboard* ah, yes I see now. Hq analysis of my favorite? That seems right. where to begin with the anomaly that is Oikawa Tooru??? I’m so in love with this man omg (okay, this isn’t a yap about how hot I find him goodness). He’s such a good character, I mean they’re all good characters. But I especially like his character. If given the chance I will yap about him <3

he spends his early years in love with volleyball but over time grows to hate the sport. he would never see it as hate though, he doesn’t see it as anything other than love. but his love for volleyball turned into an obsession with being number one. that’s fairly common with athletes i’ve heard !! but he makes me so sad oml. he never sees himself as good enough.

there’s always someone he perceives as being in his way </3 when really the only person stunting his growth is himself…he’s holding himself back by not taking proper care of himself. he trains for hours on end to the point of injury (ankle injury. fandom i will never forgive you for gaslighting me into thinking he hurt his knee). he trains and trains and trains to exhaustion and the only person who sees it is Iwaizumi :( and he tries to help his friend but it’s hard to help people who don’t want to be helped.

he has so many challenges that he perceives but the time he does his best is after losing. (correct me if i’m wrong chat </3) he won his first set against Shiratorizawa after having a huge personal loss (being benched <//3). he needs to trust himself and i believe that’s similar to what Iwaizumi tells him lol. (it’s been a minute since I’ve watched this part of hq go easy on me chat :( ) once again we see him try and fail at something but it’s not the same as it was before.

he allows himself to learn from his mistakes instead of obsessing over them. he’s such a good side character to me hehe, i love how hq deals with side characters. everyone’s story feels complete. Seijoh wins the first match against Karasuno but he doesn’t feel happy. he doesn’t feel like he did his best. :( bcs he doesn’t think he beat Kageyama at his best so he looks down on himself for only beating Kageyama (someone he sees as better than him by leagues) when he’s at his perceived “worst.” omg I’m sorry love this is getting really long haha— I’ll try to cut it down now!!! when he loses to Karasuno he cries. but he also learns that he’s okay with the fact that he lost, that volleyball isn’t a sport that’s only him there’s five other people out there with him. he learns that “talent is something you make bloom” that he’s not a genius but he is talented and he needs to work on making it bloom in a healthy setting.

I especially love the panel (spoilers duh) where he learns that volleyball is fun again. it makes me bawl my eyes out every time. I can’t tell you why, it just makes me so happy and emotional that he finds love for a sport he had grown to hate. and then WE SEE HIM AT THE OLYMPICS. and he faces a team of everyone he’s perceived as better than him over the years and trained by his best friend. Everyone is at the best they will be and he gets to play against them again. ahhh—I love him so much. The story of not feeling good enough -> him finding that he doesn’t need to win to feel good enough he just has to have fun. that’s what his job is about lol, having fun (I’m heavily simplifying lol). I love that he found satisfaction with himself and he’s so <333 I love him :((

OKAY DONE. THAT’S A WRAP FOLKS!!! enjoy my analysis Ave lol <3 I hope this wasn’t too long :p <3

-kai <3

please find in your askbox that i will be matching your freak!

i love oikawa's complex villain character (he would singlehandedly defeat sukuna, fight me)

he's soooo UGHHHHH perfect angst material

fic ideas include but not limited to:

tooru breaking your heart because he doesn't have enough time for you/prioritise you

tooru leaving you behind for argentina

tooru's obsession with volleyball impacting your relationship

tooru not pursuing anything with you because he will never have enough time to treat you like you deserve to be treated

tooru falling out of love with you because your paths no longer align

tooru putting himself before you

oops

ILY KAI

match my freak! askbox event

[sapphosclown]

heartstopper s3 thoughts (spoilers obvi)

oh my. they did such a lovely job with this story. i could tell the actors were so engrossed in their characters and comfortable with each other. i already made my piece about how i wish there was more time to flesh out the story (x) but the truth is i just love this show and selfishly wish i had a million episodes to watch forever.

the last episode. that was so nice. charlie and toris conversation in the ferris wheel, im absolutely so in love with charlie’s character development across the show yes but this season. it’s such a huge story for him and it was so heartwarming to see him choose his short sleeve shirt, and how much he’d grown and just thinking back to how scared he was to ask for help because “what if it didn’t work” vs asking to have his sessions biweekly instead if weekly. i adore charlie growing out of the codependency on nick and really growing back into his friends— and same with tao, i liked how they showed him putting so much into elle and then acknowledging that s1 tao would’ve hated that.

the final scene. charlie awake while nick is asleep and then it just cuts. oh my. that’s beautiful. i’m pretty sure they haven’t been renewed for a 4th season yet and while i absolutely hope so much they are to finish out their story (and to watch the Nick and Charlie plot play out which i’m so excited for and want to see so badly i think it would be so good), that last shot would be a lovely way to end the show if netflix continues its evils and cancels the show (which i hope they don’t and truthfully don’t think they would because i think this one has met their standards for success to let her continue). it would work because charlie as our main character has resolved most of his issues and within the show has been tied neatly together, plus the comic fans know what’s to come which i would dare say is the majority audience. but again, i would be very very surprised if they didn’t get a fourth season (and very disappointed)

i loved imogene’s chat with nick in the hotel room. i love seeing nick’s realization that he too needs to be independent of charlie and i really want to see that in s4.

OH ALSO MICHAEL HOLDEN. I LOVE YOU SIR. THAT WAS SO WONDERFUL. THE GLEE I FELT WHENEVER HE WAS ON SCREEN. OH HE ATE HIS 5 TOTAL MINUTES IF SCREENTIME I LOVE UOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU. he had me giggling nonstop, thinking about specifically “michael is looking for you” -> 🧍. that was everything to me.

ugh. idk. i have a lot of thoughts. those are what came to mind. i fear i must sleep now. but i will prob yap ab this more and in like dedicated posts this was just me rambling bc i finished and i had a lot of feelings.

absolutely stunning. my favorite season.

[akaakeis]

hello hello sav <3 how are you doing?

im attempting a yap ask but i dont know how much time i have on my hands so if i need to go i'll just press send and you'll have an awkward cutoff. also, it will probably be mildly ominous lolol

anyways !

i got my period for the first time since like ,, july ? i think ? which is insane the stress has been crazy

also like.. wdym september is almost over WDYM. october, november, december then ??? new year ????? ur birthday ?????????

speaking of which i've been brainstorming ideas for an (online, not money costing) present and it's like. "write something. okay, what. okay, got it. wait no that's cringe nvm." even though it's probably not cringe 😒😒

a pinterest board sounds sillyfunny hmm

okay next topic pretend you didn't read the last part because i am HORRIBLE at hiding surprises like it just makes me so happy when other people are happy and like arghhh #girlproblems

i dreamt up a new smau yesterday and ill dm u about it tmr <- hasn't finished the first one yet, hasnt even STARTED it

OH OH OH I MISS YOU SM theres nothing more to that bit i kept thinking i have to add it in somewhere and also kept forgetting but like yes. um. imy baby ily 🫶

anyways SCHOOL right. today i caught my super awesome studious top grades role model student bunking class with the school's head girl. that was crazy. and i was going to bunk english (bc the teacher SUX see next para.) but i was so surprised at seeing her sneak off school bag n all during break that i accidentally bumped into said english teacher and she smiled and said hru LIKEEE KMS NO.

i spent a good 15 minutes hiding in the bathroom from her tho. okay so lemme describe our uniforms for u. so first we have like an erm. top thingy. google "female kurta" and you'll see like this thing w/ slits at the sides etc etc. it's usually shorter than the ones shown bc. uniform. and then we also have like loose fitting pants, and uhh. imagine a doctor's white coat thingy over all that which buttons up. and then a headscarf. ANYWAYS THIS IS RELEVANT BC. theres a girl in our class, the youngest & she's 15 in october. BUT wtv uh her apron (coat thingy is called that) buttons are loose and they keep opening. so obviously the teacher had to help.

"boys rn think many things they will stare at u and then in the future u will not get married" — mrs j 2024 😻 LIKE GIRL WHAT. and then she fatshamed a girl WHO ISN'T EVEN FAT BTW SHE'S LIKE. HEALTHY. AND HEALTHIER THAN MOST OF US SHE'S PHYSICALLY ACTIVE WORKS OUT AND EATS FRUITS AND STUFF um oops gtg i think.. and oh also she like ,, has hormone stuff but wtf woman. u dont even know proper english anyways gtg TELL ME AB UR HOMECOMING (?) and school is so stressful rn dont get stressed ily sav! <3

um so im gonna bawl my eyes out i was in the middle of typing out my reply AND IT DELETED ITSELF!! this is a cruel, cruel joke! ANYWAY HI LINA!! im doing good, hope you're doing well!!!!! <3

I MISSED YOUR YAP ASKS SM so happy to be receiving this 🙂‍↕️ have an amazing day at school!!

SINCE JULY??? i hate my period but i think i would lose it if i didnt have my period for a month cause i would convince myself i have conceived jesus in my uterus and am going to be a teen mother... SO ITS GOOD YOU GOT IT BUT I HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER PERIODS SUCK SO BAD 💔

god it's so weird that september is ending... SPEAKING OF WHICH I HAVE AN ARTICLE DUE TO MY MAGAZINE ON OCT 1 I FORGOT today im locking in so hard on my school work and job... im also starting babysitting the side hustles are going crazy rn...but the thing is time is passing so funkily?? idk but it feels so slow during the day but before yk it you've been in the cycle for a rly long time and its the end of the month!!! i rmbr asking my friends this week if it still felt like it was the beginning of the month for them and they were like "no...?" LIKE OKAY THEN just slap me in the face and call me a freak at that point goodness 😞 but timeline 4 me we have october + halloween, november + thanksgiving, december + christmas, january + new year + BDAY!!!!, february + valentines day, THEN march + your bday <333 

im gonna act like i didnt see that one! im 45% blind in my right eye and fully blind in my left... matter of fact i cant see much of nothing 🫡

NEW SMAU WEEEEEEE im so excited to hear about it!!!!! ga(c)r is heavily staring at u from the corner of the room BUT SHE CAN WAIT

BRO I MISS YOU SO BADDD ilysm imysm chronically online era come back to us this summer PLEASE 

YES SCHOOL‼️ HELLO NOT THE ACADEMIC WEAPON I WOULD BE SO RATTLED IF I WITNESSED THAT? your teacher freaks me out i think id cry if i bumped into them LIKE I WOULD GENUINELY TWEAK!! especially the smile i can only imagine it looking creepy tbh

15 minutes in the bathroom u are so valid lina 😞 ALSO FEMALE KURTAS ARE SO CUTE THEY LOOK SO COMFY?? YOUR WHOLE UNIFORM SOUNDS SO COMFORTABLE 💔 i remember when i went to priv school i had to wear fitted polos and skorts CAUSE THEY WOULDNT LET GIRLS WEAR PANTS UNLESS IT WAS WINTER THAT WAS RIDICULOUS anyway back on topic that girl is pretty young for your class 🧍‍♀️ what r the age cutoffs like there?? cause usually the youngest ppl in my grade are both late august/early september idk

"boys rn think many things they will stare at u and then in the future u will not get married" GIRLL SHUT UP 😭 whos gonna tell her! FATSHAMED??? there is no way.... THATS ACTUALLY INSANE I BET THAT GIRL IS MORE ACTIVE THAN HER SHE NEEDS TO SHUT UP ⁉️ just messed up to do that in general like keep it to yourself ffs 😞 "u dont even know proper english" CLOCKED HER SO HARD i fear u are correct 

ILL TELL YOU ABOUT HOMECOMING NOW ILL GIVE U THE RUNDOWN OF EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED 🗣️

so like around 2:30 a bunch of my friends met up at one girl's house and we all got dressed and did makeup together!! my friend kaila did my makeup and i also did my friend jaslene's makeup THEN i had to book it and get to a hair appointment i had at a salon to get my hair done for the dance 💔 

after i finished getting my hair done i met with my friends at a restaurant and we all had dinner!! we took some photos outside while we were there and while we were taking photos my foot WAS DEMOLISHED by jaslene's boot heel thing anyway my foot was stepped on and it hurt cause i had open toe heels it was so bad hhhh BUT IM FINE NOW I THINK ‼️‼️

after dinner we all drove to the dance in one car and we were vibing out to baby + hot to go during the drive I COOKED UP THE RAP IN BABY SO HARD im famous amongst my friend group for the rap i always get the mic for that part 🫡 

when we got to the dance it was 7:00 and we just had a bunch of fun until 10:00 😭 hugged literally everyone that i knew i love seeing people at dances cause they always look so gorgeous!!!! lots of jumping around in the crowd and scream-shouting lyrics to songs that played... tons of fun 🙂‍↕️ my voice is practically gone now and my feet hurt since i was jumping around in heels the entire night BUT WE ARE SO CHILL it was really enjoyable!!

i agree school is super stressful rn... ill try not to!! you too <3 take care + have an amazing day at school!! ily lina <3 xx

[irreversiblydamagedmeow]

gaining whimsy, yet losing aura

i was on tiktok yesterday and i saw 2 venus cosplayers and i was omg i got that doll for easter when i was little! and then i clicked the search thing at the bottom which was about the actual doll and i think he was going thru different generation venus dolls. i didn’t see the one i had, but it made me want to look more into the things i used to like.

i mean there’s only 2 things i looked into and only one im pursing. well at least for now. monster high was obviously the first thing i was looking into and then the other is mlp!! i watched it a lot when i was little and i remember a time i got a little clear glitter pony. i think it was dark blue with purple hair. idk what pony it was. im not like well-versed in mlp characters and lore. i watched it as a kid but idk i think it was still on tv ?? so i didnt watch all of the episodes bc no way I had cable. i was watching it on my great aunt’s netflix account. (she got money) i dont remember who was my favorite when i was little. i think it was twilight or maybe fluttershy. i wonder if i asked my aunts if they’d know. i really like rarity and fluttershy’s design is cute but she is lowk annoying. i think she gets better throughout, but im only on season one.

i found a really cool website with a lot of mlp toys i wanna get. i really need a job. there’s a hobby shop by my house kinda. downtown. i wanna work there. i love that store. they have pokemon models. i got jigglypuff like 2 years ago. peak. i was way prettier and i was skinny. i hate myself

that’s not the point! im trying to talk about things that make me happy.

im writing on here bc i dont have anyone else to talk to about it. i was so excited to talk to my boyfriend about the monster high dolls and he was going to work so obvi didn’t say much and thats fine but when i asked if he knew my favorite he didn’t. i know its been brought up and i’ve definitely told him before so its 100% him being fake. i dont know who else i could yap to. but i guess i know its annoying so i need to just stop talking so much about shit nobody cares about. i guess i’ll just come here next time im excited about something🥲 cringe emoji but that’s how i feel having no one to share my interests with and already knowing im annoying so i have to limit how much i say.

there’s probably a way to set your phone so you can only send a certain amount of messages… i wish i could just have the self control to shut the fuck up.

when i was talking to my boyfriend and i got upset that he didn’t know my favorite ghoul (draculaura) (fucking duh she’s pink and he knows my favorite is pink stuff) (he literally sent me a tiktok and it had her in it (other characters too she was more at the end)and i pointed her out)

i was so upset and i just unsent all of the texts i sent about mh bc it doesn’t even fucking matter. and then i just made a voice memo talking about it for 14 minutes. im prob just gonna delete that too bc i dont think i’ll listen to it and nobody else would. i dont want anyone else too. it’s cringe. i was just talking to myself about stupid things. now i just feel stupid. i feel immature and childish but i still watch it and want mlp things. i think i would just not talk about it. i need to talk less in general. how do i do that without seeming uninterested ?

i love these type of the ponies. they’re like the little one i had when i was younger. i had it for a long time but i don’t know where it is now. im sad bc i think i might’ve thrown it away in jr year but that doesn’t sound like me bc i love cute things. idk.

when i get a job im coming for you…. my precious mlp glitter figurines

[polonium-snap]

The Beauty & the Deku chp.3

Summary: Izuku and Katsuki somehow get trapped in a book of fairy tales, to get out of it they decide to play their part in the stories. How far are they willing to go to fulfill the romantic plotlines? Will Katsuki be able to play the role of a fairy tale princess?

ao3

Wattpad

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The ceiling was pinkish brown and wooden, comfortable heat embraced the slowly waking up body of a gorgeous blonde-haired man. Birds tweeted loudly outside his window, as they usually did these days, man fuck those birds, he thought, not only were they disrupting his sleep but they were also a sign he was still trapped in a never-ending nightmare.

“Fine, fine, I’ll get up.” Katsuki sat up on the bed. “You can stop yapping.” His only comfort was knowing at least the damn animals weren’t talking.

As the previous times, he woke up in an unfamiliar room, though this time it seemed more lively, and even if it was still quite far from his own room back at home, it was quieter. Katsuki sighed and stood up, leaving the warmth of his bed to face what was his reality as for now, he changed into some better clothes, noticing with relief that they were comfortable enough.

He went down the stairs where he found the idiots he calls friends making a ruckus and giggling for some reason.

“Let’s make it red.” Kirishima’s voice could be heard.

“No, no, pink.” Mina said authoritatively.

“Isn’t that the same color?” Now that was dunce face.

Katsuki could only thank the sky that they weren’t animals this time. “What are you idiots doing?” The blonde makes his presence known.

They jump to the table, trying to obstruct his view of whatever they were hiding behind and stuttering in a less than conspicuous way.

“We want you to pick some berries.” Kirishima said, handing him a basket.

“Yes, exactly!” Kaminari said, further cementing the fact they are hiding something from Bakugou.

The logic of Katsuki’s new approach to finding a way out of this hellhole would say he refuses to do anything they ask of him, but he thinks he knows what story they are in now, he knew it as soon as Bakugou saw three of his friends in ridiculous color-coded outfits that brought more childhood memories, he was in Sleeping Beauty. He had to go to the forest to supposedly look for berries so he would find his stupid childhood friend, Deku, who for some reason was always prince charming in these stories, while Katsuki was stuck in uncomfortable dresses.

“Yeah, whatever, I’ll go.” He rolled his eyes because showing disdain was the only thing that was not censored in this shitty world. He takes the basket and pretends he doesn’t know the three idiots are planning for a birthday party or something like that.

Katsuki would never admit it, but he had missed his friends, and seeing them in animal form did not count as actually interacting with them, seeing them in their usual antics was a breath of fresh air the blonde needed.

He makes his way out of the house and walks straight to the forest, fuming, because he is still mad at Deku and since they are done with the follow-the-story bullshit he can kick the green-haired menace as much as he wants. Katsuki ignores the animals that follow him around, only lightly greeting them, as he has accepted their permanent existence next to him.

“DEKUUUUU!!!” Katsuki bellows as hard as his vocal cords allow. “Where are you? You useless bastard!!!” He screams some more.

After some minutes of yelling, the little fucked decides to answer. “Kacchan?” Izuku says, appearing seemingly from nowhere with a white horse.

“Deku.” Bakugou grins maniacally. “Prepare to die, nerd.” He impulsed himself toward Izuku, whose eyes widened in panic and surprise.

“Wait, wait! Kacchan!” Izuku flailed his hands around, but the blond did not stop, tackling him to the ground. “Uff!” Deku said as they hit the ground and felt the weight of his friend crash into him.

“I’m still incredibly angry at the stunt you pulled off in the last story.” Katsuki explained. “You literally had ONE job, while I slaved around cleaning that crappy house, and you managed to mess it up!” He growled. “So don’t complain too much while I kill you.” The angry straddled Izuku and raised his hand.

“No, wait!” Izuku cried. “I-IthinkIknowhowtogetoutofhere!” He said quickly, making the other stop on his tracks.

He wasn’t actually going to punch Deku, not that the little twerp needed to know that. “What did you say?” Bakugou raised an eyebrow and took his fist away from the other teen’s face.

“I think I know how to get out of here.” Izuku stated.

“Do tell.” Kasuki said, still sitting down on Deku’s lap, which didn’t escape the notice of the green-eyed man, who blushed profusely.

“Let’s stand up first, Kacchan.” Izuku said, trying very hard not to stare at the cleavage that was so close to his face, enhanced by the loose clothing the blonde wore.

Katsuki blustered and stood up, wordlessly offering a hand to Izuku, which he took just as silently since he knew better than to point them out.

They started to walk through the forest. “Why didn’t you do what you were supposed to in the last story?” The taller man asked. “Did you hate kissing me that much?” Katsuki snorted, but he was unsure why an affirmative answer would hurt him so much.

“I-I didn’t- I d-d-don’t! I j-j-just!” Izuku stuttered, unable to explain himself. How was he supposed to tell his longtime crush that one of the reasons he didn’t want to kiss him was that he liked it too much and it hurt knowing it meant nothing? “I just couldn’t do it while you were unconscious!” It wasn’t a lie. “I felt disgusting.” Also, not a lie, kissing Kacchan while he was asleep felt like Izuku was forcing himself on someone that clearly didn’t like him that way.

“You are so stupid.” Katsuki said, somewhat relieved, Deku had said he didn’t hate it. “But it’s whatever, Deku.”

“Right.”

They continued walking until they reached a clearing, where Katsuki sat down on a nearby rock and rested his arms on a bigger one near it, smirking at Izuku. “So you said you know how to get out of here?” He said, thinking the other had just said that to get the other to abstain from hitting him. “It better not be your way of trying to convince me to go along with the story again.”

“I-it’s not.” Izuku said, blushing at how the other man looked and his new idea of a way out of this nightmare. “I was just thinking…”

“Dangerous.” Katsuki interrupted, continuing with his teasing. “Each time you do that we end up in an even more forked up situation than with what we started.” He never stopped smirking.

“Shut up!” Izuku continued to blush. “If you don’t want to hear my idea, that’s fine.” He turned away from his friend's hot smile.

Katsuki laughed. “Sorry nerd, it’s just that your last idea didn’t exactly work.” He said. “Besides, you said that if it didn’t work you would let me do my idea next, that’s just doing the opposite from what the story said.”

Izuku huffed. “How would that even work?” He crossed his arms.

The blonde rolled his eyes. “What is your new idea anyway?”

The shorter teen looked away, his cheeks slightly burning, originally he wasn’t actually going to say what he had been thinking about, he had said it on impulse, even though he knew Kacchan wouldn’t actually hit him.

“Well?” Katsuki insisted. “Aren’t you going to enlighten me with your amazing ideas?” He continued sarcastically.

“I-it’s just…” Izuku breathed, debating telling the other what he was thinking. “Y-you know how the last two stories only ended because we k-k-kissed?”

Bakugou’s eyes widened, immediately catching on to what Deku was trying to say, the worst was it did make sense, the last two stories had ended when they kissed, well. When Katsuki had kissed Izuku since the other hadn’t had the chance either of the times to kiss back.

“M-m-m-maybe i-if we did it again, we could move onto the next story?” Izuku finished explaining.

Katsuki fought a blush. “S-say we do t-t-that, what do we do once we get to the next story?” He asked

“I g-gu-guess we could continue to k-k-k-kiss until there are no more fairy tales?” Izuku said, though he completely expected the idea to be rejected.

“It could...work.” Katsuki admitted with an uncharacteristically quiet, pink dusting his cheeks, which he hid by turning away from Izuku.

There was a deafening silence, so much so he could feel the sparks of tension between them, pushing and pulling simultaneously. Red eyes lock on green, triggering even more the thick air between them as the color of their eyes shone even brighter with indescribable emotions.

“...Good, cool, cool, cool, cool.” Izuku muttered, unsure of what to do next, does he get closer to the other teen, or should he wait for the blond to initiate. “Should we...try it now?”

“Yeal,” Katsuki said breathlessly. “I mean, the faster we do this the sooner we’ll know if it works, right?” He tentatively stepped forward, not one to be a coward. “Or did you lie and you actually hate kissing me?” He teased as he was unsure of what to do with himself.

“No!” Deku replied too fast, blushing instantly. “I mean, no, it wasn’t bad, I guess.” He tried to be nonchalant. “I was just making sure you were ready.” He followed the knee-jerking response he had to Kacchan of accepting every challenge the blond implied.

Slowly they got closer.

Unlike last time, they weren’t rushed, didn’t feel the frustration to be done with the story as they had previously, this time they were obligated to look into each other and watch as luscious plump lips closed the heated distance between them.

Izuku couldn’t breathe, mesmerized by the sight in front of him and the warm breath that heated further his cheeks and tickled his nose.

Their lips met softly, making a complete contrast to their previous kisses, Katsuki lightly touched Izuku’s cheek with his hand, and Deku couldn’t help the need to place his hands on the blond’s hips. The kiss seemed to short, only serving to make Izuku crave more.

“...So...it didn’t work.” Katsuki said, not yet removing his hand.

“Y-Yeah.” Izuku mumbled back, also not taking his hands away.

Katsuki seemed to react first, slightly jumping away from Deku. “I-I think I need to go back to the three idiots cabin.”

Izuku jumps away too, as soon as his brain is able to process what had happened to a passable degree. “Oh, yeah! Of course! See you later, K-Kacchan!”

The blond turns away and starts walking away before stopping suddenly. “By the way, you can kiss me whenever.”

Izuku’s mouth snapped shut, the redness from his cheeks that just barely had seemed to calm down returned in full force.

“I-I mean! If it’s to get out of the story.” Bakugou amends, uncharacteristically embarrassed.

Deku almost is unable to contain the disappointment that spreads through him. “Of course…”

Katsuki berated himself all the way back to the house, what even was that back there with Deku? Why was he, Lord Explosion Murder, who is never embarrassed stuttering and tripping over his words? Not to mention the kiss, he definitely enjoyed it more than he should, prolonged it more than he should have.

Who would have known Deku was such a good kisser? It had to be that, right? That was the only possible reason he liked the kiss so much.

He needed to get out of his head, and thankfully taking care of his extras was exactly what could do so.

“There he is!” Said Kaminari, glad to see him, as Kirishima and Ashido turned to look at him too.

“Happy Birthday, bro!” Kirishima said, shoving a cake onto his face, while Mina presented him with a beautifully crafted outfit; a blue dress-inspired shirt with a wide cleavage with same-colored pants and a darker shade cape.

Bakugou smiled despite himself, it wasn’t anywhere near his birthday, though the praise of his (thankfully human-looking) friends was certainly but secretly appreciated. “How did you idiots even manage to make this cake and not set the house on fire?”

“Uhhhh…about that.” Denki looked at his friends less than subtly, at which they returned the unease with equally inconspicuous looks. “We have something very important to tell you.”

“Oh, yeah.” Kirishima confirmed.

“You should sit for this honey,” Mina said, suddenly serious.

The blond teen rolled his eyes, honestly, he should have started to do whatever the fuck he wanted long ago, but he strangely decided to humor his friends, NOT because he liked them and missed them, not at all, Katsuki was just in a generous mood.

“We,” Kirishima started and pointed to himself and the other two extras. “Are fairies, we were tasked by the king to take care of you until you turned 16, due to a sleeping curse that is to end today.”

Katsuki acted shocked just because he could. “Oh, word?”

“Now you need to get ready sweetie, you are going to marry a prince and we have to prepare.” Mina said, grabbing the newly made outfit with the intention of dressing Bakugou.

“Yes, yes, prince Izuku this, prince Izuku that.” Katsuki rolled his eyes at the thought of the nerd.

The three fairies shared a confused look. “Who is Izuku?” Kaminari asked.

“We were talking about Prince Philip.” Said Kirishima.

“WHat?” Katsuki yelled. “Who on Earth is that? I’m not marrying some random extra!” He protested.

“Why not?” Mina asked.

“There’s already someone I…” Katsuki paused, realizing what he was just about to say. “I would rather marry someone I know rather than some dude I just met…”

“You met someone?” Kirishima asked, surprised.

“NO, yes, maybe.” Katsuki stuttered. “In the forest, there was this guy, a total dumb nerd, but I guess he is torelable enough, kind of funny, and stubborn, anyways, he is definitely better than some Prince Philip.”

Ashido looks at him with something like sorrow. “Sorry hun, you’ve been betrothed to him since you were born, you have to marry him or there will literally be a war”

While Katsuki was well aware he was trying to purposefully change the story, he did not want to deal with a war at the moment. It never occurred to him that the prince might not be Izuku, it never seemed like a possibility, and he couldn’t quite understand why it was so upsetting.

He wondered who the prince would end up being.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

Izuku went back to the castle he had woken up in, finding out All Might was once again his father for the tale, which he was in part very happy about, but at the same time sad he didn’t exactly count on the time to enjoy.

“Al- Dad!” Deku said once he saw the oddly dressed Toshinori.

“Oh, my boy!” All Might said. “Where have you been all morning? We have so much to prepare for your wedding to the prince.”

“I’m sorry I’m late, but I’m just...uhm...exited?” Izuku said. “I mean, at first I wasn’t sure, but now I’m glad I’m marrying him.”

“My boy Izuku,” All Might smiled. “I’m so glad you have come around, I knew prince Aurelio would be a good match for you.”

“Wait, who?!” Izuku’s eyes widened.

“Prince Aurelio, the one you have been betrothed to since you were children.” All Might raised an eyebrow.

“No no no, I’m going to marry prince Katsuki!” the young man said, unnerved by the newfound information.

Toshinori paused for a moment. “There is no prince on this side of the world named Katsuki.” He said slowly, looking at increasingly more nerve-wracked Izuku with worry.

That’s right, Kacchan and him being both the main leads in every story was never a hard-cold fact. That thought didn’t help Izuku at all, they had just started to figure things out when again there were new issues to deal with?! He had to marry some random prince he didn’t know, and for what? Kacchan wasn’t even following the story currently, which right about now sounded very appealing to Izuku who while was more than ok kissing his childhood friend definitely did not feel the same way about some prince who was probably way older than he was.

He needed to speak with Kacchan.

“Look, you don’t have to marry prince Aurelio if you have someone you actually love.” All Might assured, patting the back of his panicked son in a loving manner. “I’ll just have to talk to the king and everything will be alright.”

Izuku bit his lip, he had been an advocate for following the story so far, but now he had his doubts. “I-I already have someone I want to marry, and it’s not prince Aurelio.”

“Alright, my boy.” All Might smiled, but then he sighed. “Your mother won’t be happy, you know? She is good friends with the queen.”

“My mom?” Izuku muttered, missing her dearly. “You mean my mom Inko?” He said making sure he was talking about her and not some woman who was supposed to be his mother in the story.

“Who else?” All might said, besotted with the mention of the green-haired woman.

Huh. Izuku thought this was the second time All Might and Inko were his parents and apparently married, happily. He was aware this world took real elements from his reality, which made him wonder if this relationship between his mom and his mentor held some truth to it.

“Who is this Katsuki you want to marry anyway?” Toshinori asked, curious as to who had captured his son’s heart.

“Oh, about that.” Izuku remembered his intention to go look for Kacchan in order to talk about the current situation. “I have to go find him, I mean, I have to introduce you to him.”

All Might laughed and side hugged Izuku in a way that mitigated some of the unease the green-haired teen had been feeling for a while. Izuku found himself very happy to see All Might so carefree, apparently devoid of any injury and restored to his old self. “All right, you go do that, I’ll talk the king out of a war, although now that I think about it, it might be the queen who I will have to talk to.”

“See you later All M- dad!” Izuku said, the taller man had looked hurt when Izuku apparently called him by the nickname All Might had gained in a war, instead of calling him dad, so Izuku had caved and called the man so only because he knew that it wasn’t the real Toshinori.

Deku mounted his horse and started to go on his way to the cabin Katsuki had mention waking up, they needed to talk.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

The castle was bigger than the one Katsuki had seen in Cinderella and Snow White, the atmosphere also looked brighter. As soon as he figured he was in Sleeping Beauty Katsuki had been determined to just not fall asleep, after biting the apple Shigaraki had given him in the last story he had had weird dreams he remembered nothing about. Besides, he had always wondered why Aurora went and got herself prickled with the fucking spinning wheel.

Anyway, that was not going to him, he strengthened his resolve as he entered the castle, rolling his eyes as he was told that his parents in this story wanted to see him just after his wedding to, ugh, Prince Philip.

“So they don’t see me for 16 years and the first time they want to marry me off to some weirdo, that’s nice.” He said sarcastically.

“People say he is very handsome, you know.” Kaminari said, now in what Katsuki supposed was his fairy outfit.

“Who cares if the sun shines out of his ass.” Cool, ass itself was not a swear word, praise the gods. “I don’t want to marry him, and I’ll be such a jerk he won’t either.”

“Wow, you really must be in love with the guy you met in the forest.” Mina commented in awe, in a pretty pink outfit.

Katsuki spluttered, turning red. “I DO NOT LIKE DEKU!!” He screeched. “H-he is a lame nerd, we could never be together.” He turned to look outside the window. He and Izuku were friends, now that Katsuki had gotten his head out of his ass and stopped having his superiority complex triggered by his childhood friend, but years of miscommunication and misguided aggression could be easily ignored.

Ashido, Kirishima, and Kaminari guided him to his room and fixed him up in a blue outfit they had made for him, although Mina and Eijiro still argued over the color.

“We’ll be right back!” Kirishima said as he and the other two went out to do who knows what.

Katsuki sighed and looked at his reflection, he didn’t know why on earth he was still entertaining this stupidity his friends had told him to, he had said he would fuck shit up in this story because he was tired of going along with it, why exactly had he been doing exactly the opposite? Either way, there was no way he was going to ever marry some random dude, even if it was what got him out of here, he and Deku would figure out another way.

Suddenly he felt like he was underwater, he couldn’t think or feel.

He was an outsider of his own body as he stood up, slowly walking in an unknown direction through the swirling stairs and hallways. His senses were asleep and his mind seemed submerged in a thick substance that forbade him from controlling himself.

Abruptly he was vaguely aware of the door in front of him and as Katsuki opened it he was overwhelmed by green, but not the calm deep forest green he had come to like through the years, but a toxic acidic green burning his eyes with its power, although he felt nothing but nausea.

There was no pain as his finger touched the sharp end of the needle, just the acid spreading through his body as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell unconscious.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

It had happened again, and really Katsuki should have expected it. Every Time he's out there doing god’s work and saving people, the world decides to fuck him over, he is actually fine with it, he has come to expect it. Katsuki is cursed and he knows it, the problem is that Deku is fucking cursed too, even more than he is for some goddam reason, and one would think bad luck plus bad luck would cancel each other out because that is the logical thing, right? Well, logic flies out when it concerns Katsuki and Izuku.

It is his bad karma making him repent, Katsuki recons.

At first, Katsuki would be offended Aizawa-sensei called him problem child #2, but honestly now with all the bullshit Katsuki goes through every single time he inexplicably sees himself end up involved in some villain’s conspiracy he can’t even deny it.

Which all of this is a roundabout way to say he and Deku got themselves in another fight with older more experienced villains when they are barely in their third year of high school.

They were supposed to do a simple patrol, it was supposed to be easy, but of course, Deku being Deku he had snooped around the agency and recalled the face of some suspected criminal who just happened to walk past them.

“I swear Kacchan, I saw him on the file Hawks was looking at when he welcomed us,” Deku insisted. “We need to follow him.”

“Ok, first of all you can’t call me that fucking kiddie name when we are in costume,” Katsuki scolded, though Izuku at least had the decency to look sorry. “Second, Aizawa specifically told us to only report suspicious activity and not to engage.”

“K- uh, Dynamyght, Aizawa-sensei said that to everybody.”

Katsuki looked at him with a blunt expression. “He said and I quote ‘I swear to god if you get in trouble I’ll expell you, problem children’ while looking at us.”

“Yeah, ok, but Kacchan he’s going to get away.” Izuku said, as they inconspicuously followed the presumed villain as they had yet to come to a decision. “Do you know what he is suspected of doing? They think he is the one that collects children and gives them to All for One!”

The blonde hesitated. “Fine, we’ll call back up.” The other boy frowned, knowing how long backup might take, moreover when it was not even a confirmed sighting.

“Think of the children!” Deku hissed, determined. “Besides, this will look amazing on our record, and may even help us climb ranks when we graduate!”

Dynamyght was nothing if not ambitious, also the children. “God damn it stupid Deku!” He hissed back. “This better not end in a disaster.”

Deku beamed and Katsuki scowled, as was his trained response to that disarming smile.

They carefully followed the suspect; tall with, black hair, yellow eyes, and a weird tattoo on his left eye. Silence trailed them too, even with the considerable amount of people on the street. The presumed villain turns the corner to an alley, where Katsuki and Deku follow several seconds later.

“Shouldn't have followed, mini heroes.” The man said, without even turning around.

Katsuki is about to tell him to shut the fuck up and fight when a hand appears behind him and covers his mouth and nose with a handkerchief. He struggles and is vaguely aware Deku is in a similar situation. Strength escapes the blonde and staying awake is harder as seconds pass by, his head swims and all he can do is muster his best glare as he topples to the ground.

“There’s a quirk I’ve been dying to try.” The man, who looks to be about thirty, smirks.

Katsuki blacks out.

He wakes up tied up and unable to use his quirk, whether it is because of the remnants of the chloroform or because of anti-quirk restraints is unclear. He looks around dazedly, he spots Deku slouched on the floor, no doubt still knocked out and a little girl in the fetal position sobbing in one corner of the dirty basement they were trapped in.

“Hey, you ok, kid?” Katsuki calls and hopes his speech is not too slurred.

The girl sobbed harder. He groaned lowly in frustration and slowly with the little strength he had recovered since he woke up he struggles his way to the small kid, about seven years old.

“We’re gonna get you out of here, you know.” Bakugou had never been good with comforting people, but he tried. “Me and him are actually heroes in training.”

“...Really?” The little girl lifted up her tear-stained face, she had light purple shoulder-length hair and blazing orange eyes.

“Yes really.” He assures her. “Even if we can’t get you out, there will be people looking for us, so don’t give those assholes what they want and keep strong.”

A determined look courses through the girl's face. “Allright, mister hero!”

“Call me Dynamight.” Katsuki corrects as gently as he can.

“My name is Lily.” She says he notices she has a thick book she clutches with all her might.

“Nice to meet you, or whatever.” The book bothers him, why would kidnappers ever let the kid keep anything? “What do you have there, Lily?”

“Oh, this is my favorite book! My mom always reads it to me before sleeping.” She smiles slightly, which Katsuki is glad to see, as this must be a stressful situation for a kid like her. “It’s got all my favorite fairy tales from the movies!”

Katsuki smiles lightly at her. “That is amazing, kid.”

A loud groan from the floor diverted their attention.

Deku lifted his head from the floor, though his tied hands made it difficult to rise from the ground. “K-Kacchan…” He whined.

“Finally up, you piece of sh-trash.” Katsuki amended.

“Where are we?” Izuku asked, clearly still fighting the effects of the drug the villains used to put them unconscious.

“Fu- Hell if I know.”

Deku turned to Lily. “Hi sweety, what is your name?”

She introduced herself timidly and Deku did the same, offering her a smile. Katsuki was glad the other boy had awakened, as he was better at dealing with people than the blonde was, though he still made one or two comments to the conversation they maintained, the little girl coaxing the answers out of him.

The relative pleasantness of the conversation disappeared when the basement’s door opened, revealing the man from earlier, along with his henchmen.

“Take them upstairs.” The black-haired man said.

“Yes, boss.” His henchmen replied in unison, bypassing their leader and lifting up the two teenagers and the girl.

“LET ME GO YOU FUCKERS, LET’S FIGHT LIKE REAL MEN!” Katsuki struggled as hard as he could, and Deku tried to do the same.

I was ultimately useless, and they were dropped in the ground of the upper floor, which was still very much disgusting. They sat the girl on a chair and the leader approached her, with the fairy tale book in his hands, he dropped it carelessly on the floor, where it landed open.

“Show us what you can do.” He smirked at the girl and the heroes in training.

Katsuki growled and Deku glared, Lily predictably was sobbing.

“I don’t have time to waste, little girl.” The leader growled when Lily didn’t immediately use her quirk, and he yanked the poor girl's hair, making Izuku and Katsuki trash harder on their binds. “If you don’t want to die, use your quirk on those two useless heroes.”

The girl cried harder, shaking her head. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”, she said as she raised her hands, probably to use her quirk.

Izuku shook his head, smiling sadly at the girl. “It’s not your fault Lily, the pro heroes will save us soon enough.”

Katsuki gave a short nod in agreement, if anyone was at fault it was these stupid asshole villains.

The girl’s eyes and hands glowed a reddish-orange that started to permeate the room to the point Katsuki had to close his eyes at the strong light as darkness overtakes him. He promptly loses consciousness.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

Izuku gets to the cabin a few hours later, although it seems no one answers when he knocks on the door. He opens it, just to be sure Kacchan is not there and to have a clue as to where he might have gone. He enters with tentative steps into the darkness of the place, where a sinister laugh greets him.

Hundreds of minions attack him before he can even defend himself as they tie him up and gag him, holding him in place in front of a black figure.

It looks like Kurogiri is the Maleficent in this story, which Izuku guesses is fitting enough, although he notes the usual purpleness of the villain has turned to a sour green.

“I set a trap for a peasant and look here, I caught a prince.” He laughs when Izuku glares at him as the gag and ties prevent anything else.

Izuku is dragged to Kurogiri’s run-down castle, they put him in a cell and shackle his hands and feet. If he had his quirk he could have easily broken the bounds, but not having it does not stop him from struggling against the iron chains.

The green-haired prince sighs and throws himself at the bench, wondering how Katsuki is.

However there is not enough time to lament his situation, as out of nowhere fairy sized Kirishima, Ashido, and Kaminari appear.

“Prince Philip!” Kirishima said as he starts shooting red magic off his wand into breaking the shackles that keep him bound.

“Who?” Izuku said, confused. “My name is Izuku.” He said.

The three fairies gasp. “You are the one prince Aurelio met in the forest.”

“No no, I have never met Aurelio.” Izuku reassured them. “But never mind that, where is Kac-Katsuki?”

Kaminari laughed as he broke the lock of the door. “Katsuki is Aurelio, we had to change his name so he wouldn’t get recognized.”

“Oh.” Izuku said, remembering princess Aurora had gone by Rose the first part of the movie.

Ashido spoke then, interrupting his thoughts. “Guys, we don’t have the time for this, we need to go!” She rushed them.

Izuku immediately straightened up, only half hearing Kirishima’s explanation as he was given a shield and a sword. They speed out the room, not without alerting Kurogiri’s ugly crow, which immediately started squawking in alert. The stairs were full of minions throwing all types of weapons at Izuku, but he skillfully deflected them and somehow they were able to make it out of the castle where the incessant attacks continued as Izuku tried to get to his horse in order to escape.

Rocks and arrows rained from the sky, but thankfully Kirishima, Ashido, and Kaminari turned them into bubbles and flowers with magic, which Izuku thought was pretty neat.

The dashing prince managed to get atop his horse and raced to the castle and with outstanding strength was able to cut all the spiky vines that barricaded the place Katsuki was trapped in asleep.

Upon cutting his way through the vines, Kurogiri teleports in front of him, furious. Then he turns into a dragon, at which Izuku looks for a more open area where he won’t be burnt to flames, swinging his sword at the reptile as it shoots green fire out his mouth.

In the process he somehow manages to break one of his left-hand fingers and lose his shield, he hissed in pain as he stared down the abyss. The dragon seemingly laughs, thinking they have won, but the three fairies hover over Izuku, overloading the sword with so much magic it shines. In a last-ditch effort to win, Izuku throws the sword with all his remaining strength and lets out a sigh of relief when it pierces right through the dragon’s heart.

Kurogiri stumbled into the abyss, where Izuku once the threat has been eliminated does not even bother looking back as he sprints toward the castle, bypassing the sleeping peasants, the guards, and even All Might and Kacchan’s parents, who appear just as unconscious as the rest.

Finally, he arrives at Katsuki’s room, where the blonde lies, his face slack with sleep, unmoving but still beautiful.

Izuku breathes in, Katsuki had given him permission to kiss him, even if it only was to get out of a story.

He leaned in and kissed his childhood friend, whose lips were as soft as they had been earlier in the day.

Katsuki’s red eyes slowly opened, blinking away the sleep. “You idiot.” He said, because what else would the explosive boy say? “You were Prince Philip?”

Izuku laughed. “I guess.”

He was about to tell the other teen they needed to go downstairs to greet their parents, but the world started to turn white again, as it did every time a new story was about to start.

Izuku braced himself.

[bruhstories]

Personal Demon

Summary: Because of a mistake, you're assigned a devil instead of an angel. Pairing: Demon!Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader Warnings & Conent: oh boy, here we go - language, mentions of suicide, mentions of self harm, mentions of rape, fingering, unprotexted sex, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of reader in an asylum, sliiiiight dumbification of reader, slight corruption of reader, Eren's a little shit Word Count: 3.9 k

A/N: So I wrote this in, like, 3-4 days because I felt like it's pretty bad but not bad enough not to post it. I hope you still enjoy it, though!

You always felt it — breathing in your nape, moving in the corner of your room at night, whispering things you shouldn't dare think about. Your own personal demon. Most of the time you did a good job at ignoring it. Most of the time you abused substances to make it go away, at least for a minute. With the puff of weed or a bottle of alcohol, it stayed away, only watching from afar and never involving itself with you. Most of the time.

Keys clung in your hands, door shutting behind as you walked into your apartment, fingers wrapped around your grocery bags. Yet another night of drinking the voice away.

"Not today, Satan." You hummed, popping open a bottle of gin, nose scrunching at the bitter taste.

"I keep telling you, the easiest way to get rid of me would be to kill yourself." It spoke, this time outside of your head.

"And I keep telling you to stay the fuck away from me." You growled back.

"We both know that's not possible."

Another sip and you put the bottle down, hands digging inside the bag for a snack.

"You're gonna need something stronger than that."

There it was, the bar of chocolate you so eagerly starved for. The TV suddenly turned on. It was craving entertainment.

"Anything unusual happened today?"

No, it was craving attention and you were not about to give it any. You put the groceries inside the fridge and grabbed the bottle, plopping on the couch.

"How long are you going to pretend I'm not here?"

"As long as I need." You snapped back, eyes glued to the TV.

"Well, that didn't last long." It laughed. "Come on, Y/N, we've been together for, what, 24 years?"

"Can you just shut up? Disappear? Crawl back to Hell?"

"Nope. Waaaaait, I know why you've got your panties in a twist. It's because that Jean guy you like hooked up with Mikasa, right?"

It was impossible to deal with. Every single second, it was there. Since you've been born, it was there, always watching, always following you, always. You tried to go to a priest, a monk, anything, but nothing helped. The angel that was supposed to guide you happened to be a demon and there was nothing you could do about it. But you were not going to give it the satisfaction of ending your pathetic life, no matter how much you wanted to, because despite being a demon, it still had to keep you alive until your time came. It, however, did like to push you over the edge, push you until you grabbed a knife and slit your wrists, only for the knife to get shoved by some invisible force before you could finish the job. It tormented you and it loved it.

"I told you, not today, Satan."

"Ugh, my name's-"

"I don't care." Your head snapped into the direction of the voice, only to be met with a wall. "Let's face it, we shouldn't have been in this situation, so why don't you shut your mouth up and let me get on with my life?"

"What life?" It laughed and you could already picture the sneer on its face, flashing you fangs and a forked tongue. "That's not even what I look like."

"Get out of my head!" You screamed before grabbing the bottle and emptying half of its contents.

"Careful, Y/N, the neighbours might call the police and you don't want to end up like last time, do you?"

Last time... you were but a child, throwing plates at the wall only to make it stop talking when your parents admitted you to an asylum. You had to live with it for half a year before they let you out.

"Please, please stay out of my head." Tears pooled at your eyes as you clutched the bottle at your chest.

"Now why would I stay out when it's just so much fun in you?"

"God, I hate you so much!"

"Me or beardy up there? I couldn't quite get it." It laughed again, laughing at your damn misery as you got up from the couch and left the apartment.

The alcohol already made its way to your brain when you reached the ground floor of the building. Rain poured outside but you didn't care, you just ran as far away from it as possible and for the first time in years, it didn't follow you. Grateful and content, you slowed down, admiring the beauty of the city which you ignored because of the voice inside of your head. The smell of rain, the colourful buildings, the empty streets, everything felt new and refreshing, and you took it all in. Time seemed to slow down without itconstantly nagging in the back of your mind and you realised you were pretty far away from your home, an area unknown to you. Still, you knew how to get back, you hoped, but when you turned around, a man pushed you into an alleyway.

"Satan?" You whispered, dizzy from the lingering gin and smell of rain. The man pinned you to a wall and finally you were beginning to realise what was happening.

"Call me whatever you want, baby, just keep that pretty voice down." His hand moved up your thigh and panic seeped through your veins. "We don't want to draw any attention, now, do we?" He kissed your neck and you froze on the spot, eyes widening in fear and body shivering.

"L-let go of me!" You managed, the alcohol numbing your arms, rendering you unable to push the stranger away.

"Shhh, don't fight it." The man squeezed your arms, his fingers bruising the soft skin. Anger, sadness and pain coiled together in your chest and you couldn't breathe anymore. Oh, how you wished you never left your flat, how you wished you stayed back and listened to itconstantly yapping, like a maggot crawling into your brain. "Aren't you a pretty one?" He cooed, his hand travelling lower, lower, to the point where tears started rolling down your cheeks, mixing with the snot and rain on your face.

And then it happened — in the blink of an eye, your assailant was thrown against the other wall by the too familiar invisible force as you sank to the ground, eyes puffy and red, legs trembling.

"The fuck? What are you?" The man hissed at you, his hands holding his abdomen.

"I'm the devil." It spoke, voice inhuman and perilous, and you could only sneer at him. For the first time you were happy it was there. Sick, twisted thoughts invaded your mind and you wanted to watch him suffer, and itknew. It knew, because the devil was always in your head.

"You crazy bitch!" The assailant, now helpless and overpowered, did not know about your own personal demon, and he tried to get up, tried to leap forward at you and strangle the last bit of air out of your lungs, but he couldn't. Somethingwas holding him back.

"You want him dead?" It asked, but you know the devil took more pleasure in inflicting pain rather than swiftly killing.

"No." You grinned, eyes dark and dangerous. "I want him to suffer."

"That's my girl."

Blood-curling screams echoed in the alleyway. You didn't know what it was doing to him, but you knew for a fact that you were enjoying the sounds that came out of your attacker. His wrists contorted in a way you didn't think was possible, and the melody of broken bones reminded you that what was happening was wrong. For a moment, your brain was rational, telling you that it should stop, that you should both just leave and forget this ever happened. But... it also felt good, it felt like you've just been reborn, discovering a deeply buried part of you that ached to be exposed. Then, his legs twisted and the man winced in pain, so much pain, and your heart fluttered in your chest.

"More?" It asked and you nodded.

"More."

His arms looped, like a deformed puppet loosely strung, and it made him dance in the rain until his body gave up from fatigue.

"Aw, I was really hoping he'd be a feisty one." It mused, and you also clicked your tongue in disappointment. Before you left, you gave your assailant a good kick in the stomach, your boot stomping on his face with so much anger and force that what remained was unrecognisable.

Wet clothes piled on the floor, you wrapped your naked body in a blanket to warm yourself up. What just happened? What did you do? Why did you allow it to happen and more importantly, why did you love every minute of it? The questions jogged in your fuzzy brain, as you slowly sobered up.

"Why did I enjoy it, Satan?" You asked, lips quivering.

"I told you, my name's not Satan, it's-"

"Eren, I know. I remember." You could feel it quirk a brow, surprised and impressed by its name rolling down your tongue so naturally. "Why did I enjoy it? It's wrong and disgusting."

"Do you remember what happens when you say my name?" It sounded almost concerned.

"You physically manifest, I know. Now answer my fuckingquestion."

"What do you want me to say?" Itasked, fragments of muscle, skin and silk pulling together from thin air. First, its legs. Then, its upper body, draped in a charcoal-black robe. "That you're as sadistic as I am? Maybe it wasn't a mistake that you have a demon, not an angel." And finally, its face materialised in front of you — long dark brown hair falling down his shoulders and eyes so green, it felt like a forest was in them. It looked almost human, the hooked nose, the elongated ears, the deeply sunken emeralds and jagged mouth betraying its true nature.

"I thought you'd have fangs." Was your only response at the scene unfolding in front of you, blanket clutched at your chest. Any normal person would shudder at the demonic sight of Eren appearing in front of them, but to you, it felt comforting to finally assign a face to the voice you so desperately tried to ignore.

"And I thought you wanted to get rid of me." It scoffed, its facial features changing, becoming softer and resembling a human man, but those eyes didn't change an ounce.

"I don't know what I want anymore. If it weren't for you, I would've been raped and dead, probably."

"Just embrace it, Y/N. Just let go of that annoying voice in your head that tells you it's wrong." He encouraged. "There's no such thing as good or bad, right or wrong. It's just surviving, adapting or dying."

Eren looked unbelievably human and incredibly handsome in the dim light of your living room lamp. Maybe it was the alcohol that hasn't left your body yet, or maybe it was the fact that he saved you, again, but the truth was that the devil in your house was making you feel something you couldn't even feel for Jean — and you thought you were in love with Jean.

"Alright, let's pretend for a moment that I give into temptation." Your eyes found his and you felt hypnotised, the rational part of your brain slowly overshadowed by your instincts and feelings. "What then? Do you leave me alone? Do you go back to hell? Do Igo to hell?"

"Oh, I wouldn't call it hell. More like a demonic paradise." He shrugged, eyes bored and blank, devout of any emotion. You leaned forward trying to search for something in his darkened orbs.

"Why are you being nice to me? You're supposed to save me from death, not rape."

He clicked his tongue, your question drilling into his brain, repeating itself over and over again. Why did he save you? It's not like he cared, he only did his job, right? Right?

Wrong.

The demon you grew up with, the demon who tormented you, the demon who tried so desperately to ruin your life did, in fact, give two shits about you and your pathetic existence. Just not in the way you thought.

"Let's just say no one gets to touch you but me." Eren closed the gap between you two, his nose almost grazing over yours. He was absolutely intoxicating and you always fought with the constant need to let him control you. After all, he was always with you, he saw you hit your lowest points, he saw the best of you, he saw your naked body, he saw everything, ergo you were his. Your head quickly turned to the side before you leaned back, exhaustion written all over your face as Eren clicked his tongue. The thing about demons was that they couldn't physically interfere without their human's consent, only using invisible force to stop you from dying and he was just so close.

"Ah, but you can't touch me, though." You trailed off, brow quirked at his narrowed eyes. You've done your homework, you knew what he needed, but still, that side of you tried to prevail over the side that craved his touch.

"Yet." Eren snapped back before your drifted to sleep.

Once again you dreamt of it him, his cock buried deep inside your needy cunt as you screamed his name over and over again while you came undone. When you jolted up from your sleep, he was there, watching you, like a predator stalking its prey. Normally he wouldn't be there, but since you called his name, Eren was glaring down at your helpless body, famished for something only you could give him.

"What's the time?" You groaned, fingers rubbing your eyelids.

"Three in the morning." He answered, eyes glued to you. "Bad dream?" The demon sneered. You knew he'd been in your head again, you knew those dreams existed for a reason.

"They wouldn't be bad if you'd just stay the fuck out of my mind." You hummed with a fake smile.

"Alright then, look me in the eye and tell me, reallytell me you want me to leave you alone." But you couldn't and he knew it. "Stop fighting it, Y/N. For two decades you kept trying. Maybe you should stop being stubborn and just give in." Eren shrugged, his voice tempting and you only wondered if that's how Eve felt when the snake tempted her. You weren't a Christian by any means, but you knew the story well enough to figure out the consequences.

"I have work tomorrow. Please let me sleep." You got up from the couch, blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

And that's when Eren reached his limits. He followed you into your bedroom, something knocking the wind out of you as you fell on the mattress. Somethingpulling the blanket off of you. Somethingtravelling down your arms, goosebumps dotting your skin as he stood in the doorway.

"I can't touch you, but I can do so many things to you." He inched closer, his figure imposing and dangerous and you could feel your core burning. "I can smell your arousal, Y/N. I know you want it. You just have to say it." Eren demanded and you hated that he was right. Slowly but surely, the battle in your heart and mind was coming to an end the more he got closer to the bed. "Say it."

You whined and writhed in pain and pleasure, and in the blink of an eye your life flashed before your eyes as you came to the conclusion that you've tried so hard to stay away from the demon, but either he was too persistent, or you were too weak. Or you just simply wanted him to ravage you and you were okay with that. Your hands stopped moving, your body stopped fighting.

"Do it..." You half-begged, judgement clouded, vision blurry. "Please, do it! Touch me, break me, fuck me, please! I need you, need to feel you..."

Like some sort of spell had just been lifted, Eren felt relieved. The sight of your sprawled body, combined with the lustful look in your lidded eyes only fed his hunger and he was famished. Calloused fingertips grazed over your knees, up your thighs, sending chills down your spine as you arched your back, pulling the demon closer to your face.

"Kiss me?" You asked, voice sweet and needy and he crushed his lips onto yours. They were surprisingly soft, tasting of whiskey and honey and the flavour lingered on your lips after he pulled away. Your body quivered under his touch, yearning for more, hands tugging at his silken robe to expose the chiselled chest. Eren pressed his forehead onto yours, hot breath tickling your cheeks.

"I'm going to ruin you, Y/N." He dug his teeth into your shoulder, the imprint burning into your skin, all the pent-up frustration slowly being released with each movement. He dragged one hand over your breasts before settling on one nipple, fingers pinching it to earn a reaction out of you. A whimper escaped from your lips as you pushed your chest upwards, wanting him closer than the laws of physics would allow. Your slender hands tangled in his locks as Eren left a trail of purple marks and bites all over your neck and shoulder.

"Fill me up, please..."

"Patience." He mused. "I've waited so many years for this, you can wait a few more minutes." Head buried between your tits, his hand travelled lower until it found your wet cunt. Fingers grazed over your folds before he drove his index into your soaked pussy and that's when you knew just how much you craved him. Your silken walls clenched around his curled-up finger and your neediness made him add another one, moans drilling through his eardrums, into his brain. "Fuck, you're so wet..." Eren hummed, vibrations tickling your skin. You couldn't form a coherent sentence even if your life counted on it. All you could think about was that if his fingers stretched you, his cock would tear your cunt apart — and you reallywanted to feel that. Fingernails dug into his back and he hissed, his tongue flicking your nipple and all the build-up was too much for you.

"Eren, please..." You mewled, your chest rising and falling with each breath, with each touch, each lick.

"You want me to fuck you? Want me to tear you apart?" The demon growled. His sudden change in tone only further added fuel to the fire inside your core and you eagerly nodded.

"Yes, God — yes! But Eren, I want to see you, not this pretty face you put on." You pleaded, eyes teary and demanding.

"No." He simply answered and that instantly made you jolt up, forcefully pushing him off of you.

"Are you trying to screw with my mind again? You've literally been with me for 24 years!" You shouted, and even Eren was slightly confused. "You tormented me for two decades, put me in an asylum, constantly stopped me from killing myself and now I can't even see the real you?" You threw your hands at him and he caught your wrists with ease. "You owe me at least that, Satan." Tears freely rolled down your face and you could feel his hot tongue lick the salty drops from your cheek. Your pain was his pleasure, he was a demon after all, the embodiment of all evil, but he decided you were corruptedenough to at least see his true colours, which you only managed to glance at.

"You're right, Y/N," Eren kissed your forehead and you couldn't even notice the manipulative hints in his voice, "you deserve at least this." He pulled back, and slowly his face distorted, allowing you to look at his disfigured mouth, elongated ears and abnormally long tongue.

"Thank you, thank you!" You beamed with bright eyes.

The woman who battled her demon? Gone.

In her place stood only a shell of a person, whose sole purpose was to get fucked by the demon in front of her. You feverishly parted his lips with your tongue, touch-starved and desperate, and Eren threw you onto the bed, robe pooled on the floor. And you were right, his cock wouldtear you apart by the looks of it. Before he could do anything, you spread your legs for him, like a good little slut, mouth agape and nothing but lust in your eyes. The sneer on his face was unlike anything you've seen before, and it both terrified and aroused you.

"Eager to please, aren't you?" He climbed onto the bed, the velvety tip of his cock barely touching your wet slit.

"I'm begging you, Eren, please fuck me!"

The demon scoffed at your pathetic words, but he couldn't deny how much he loved to hear your needy voice. You wouldn't have to know that, of course. He ever so slowly pushed the tip in between your folds, your cunt greedily taking it all in while you whimpered at the foreign sensation.

"Shhh," Eren cooed at you mockingly, "you love it, don't you?"

"Y-yes, please, d-deeper..."

Was it really you speaking or was this another one of his demonic tricks? And more importantly, did it even matter that he made you say those things when his cock felt just so good inside of you? Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to you as Eren thrusts became harder. Your tits bounced with every move, pleasure engulfing both of you and you never knew demons fucked so raw.

"Fuck, you're so tight." He hissed into your ear, the compliment only making you clench your walls around his impossibly hard cock. "Such a good girl." Eren praised you, knowing perfectly well how much you lacked appreciation from your parents, knowing perfectly well how your childhood traumas and frustration only aided him. He was your demon, after all. When your only response was to roll your eyes at the back of your head like a possessed woman, Eren picked up the pace, his abnormal tongue licking at your collarbone.

"D-do you l-like it?" You asked, concerned that he might not be satisfied with you. He wouldn't be fucking you so hard if he didn't, but you were so brainwashed that nothing made sense anymore.

"I do, doll, now be a good whore and rub that clit, will you?" The demon urged and with a shaky hand you complied, the friction mixed with his thrusts sending you into a frenzy. You were close and he knew it.

"Oh, f-fuck! Eren!"

His cock hit that sweet spot and you were done for, your legs loosened around his waist, falling onto the bed, but he kept on fucking you.

"My turn." Eren growled, his hands lifting your hips like you were some sort of ragdoll between his fingers. Your vision blurred, every word you tried to utter lost in your throat the more he buried himself into you, yet somehow you still managed to clench your walls. With one final thrust you felt him spill his hot seed, cum dripping out of your sore cunt as he pulled out.

Eren plopped next to you and you curled up in a ball, head on his chest. You were craving his attention, his care, but he responded by bringing his hands behind his head, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. He wanted to hold you tightly, he wanted to pet your head, but he couldn’t. And you were alright with that, because you knew that, no matter what, you would always have your own personal demon at your side.

[illegal-spiegel]

No Lying

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x gn!reader Genre: fluff Warnings: mention of blood (from a wound), making out  Summary: Bakugo gets hit with a quirk that makes it impossible for him to lie  Updated on 10.19.20

you’re apart of the Bakusquad 

you’re best friends with Mina, so it was only natural for her to rope you into her friend group 

Bakugo didn’t really ever talk to you at first unless it was an insult or he was yelling at you

you didn’t mind though, seeing as how he always acts like that

eventually though, he gets used to you being around and starts to chill tf out 

you think he treats you like the rest of his friends now and you couldn’t be happier

he doesn’t though

he doesn’t get his other friends their favorite snacks. He doesn’t help patch them up after a rough training session. He doesn’t yell or insult you as much as the others. You’re definitely not just a friend to him but shh we don’t talk about that

you all were a happy friend group for months until the ‘travesty’ happened

someone hit Bakugo with a quirk that makes him tell the truth anytime he tries to talk 

you all found this out after first defeating the villain 

“Hey, Bakugo. Are you okay?” you ask worriedly as he sits on the ground with blood running from his head after being hit with a powerful blast 

“No, my head is aching and throbbing,” he answers honestly before instantly choking up 

normally, he’d brush off everyone’s worries and brag that he’s completely fine and he doesn’t feel a thing 

but why did he just say that? 

that wasn’t at all what he was going to say

you thought it was a little odd too that he was being so honest but you weren’t about to call him out on it when he’s in pain 

“C’mon. Let’s get you to Recovery Girl,” you say as you help him up

he goes to say that he doesn’t need your help standing up and that he doesn’t need to see Recovery Girl 

but instead, he says, “Thanks. I really appreciate it.” 

you almost fall flat onto your face out of surprise 

the Bakugo just thanked you 

Katsuki Bakugo, the hot-headed, headstrong, tempered, anger issues having boy just thanked you 

you stutter out a ‘you’re welcome’ before dropping him off with Recovery Girl

he was red in the face for the next hour. It was mostly embarrassment but he was a little angry too that he didn’t lie 

while he was there, he found it impossible to lie 

he didn’t even tell Recovery Girl this because that would’ve been too embarrassing 

when he got home, he refused to talk unless he knew some nonsense wouldn’t come out of his mouth 

he tried to just be straight up silent but then everyone would start worrying about him and it was really just a bother 

you ended up hanging out around him more though whereas the others gave him his space 

“Why are you following me around so much?” he asks you one day, the question being more so out of curiosity than anger 

he always sounds angry though 

so you took it as you’re annoying him 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you. After that one fight, you’ve been really quiet. I just thought-”

“Thank you for worrying about me.” 

GOD DAM-

“You’ve also been really nice here recently and it’s honestly freaking everyone out.” 

he can’t believe he slipped up again 

he stayed quiet for a moment, knowing he needs to tread lightly or else he’ll slip up again 

“I don’t mean to,” he admits. That kind of sounds like something he’d say 

“Oh, okay. I just don’t want you thinking you have to change who you are to be friends with us,” you reassure with a warm smile 

he goes to say he knows that

it’s the truth so he can easily say that

so tell him why he says this instead 

“You have a beautiful smile.” 

he instantly slaps his hand over his mouth, absolutely mortified right now 

you both gawk at each other, cheeks as hot as an inferno 

neither of you can believe he just said that 

the Bakugo just complimented you 

Katsuki Bakugo, the hot-headed, headstrong, tempered, anger issues having boy just complimented you 

you both remain silent for at least a minute, not knowing what to do 

is he pranking you or something? He’s not really the pranking type though 

just as he goes to silently leave, you squeak out, “Thank you, Bakugo. That means a lot coming from you.” 

you’re staring at the ground and refuse to look at him 

his heart is honestly beating too fast for his liking and he needs to get out of there 

“Don’t mention it,” he says as fast as Kaminari’s bolts before briskly walking away 

both of you are flustered for the rest of the day and no one can figure out why 

he keeps acting like a love-sick fool and he hates it 

he keeps complimenting you and saying nice things and ugh 

when does this quirk end? 

it’s been five days and he’s still acting like this 

he just wants to call you a stupid brat to wipe that cute dumb smile off your face 

on the fifth day, you come up to him and ask to hangout 

this is nothing new for you two 

what is new, however, is his answer 

instead of brushing you off and letting you beg for him for a while

or agreeing but informing you it’s going to be boring 

he says, “I’d love nothing more.” 

he didn’t even realize that this was the truth until he said it 

you’re shocked that he agreed so easily and even said that he would want nothing more than to do that 

while you two are hanging out, you decide to be upfront with him 

“Bakugo, do you like me or something? You’ve been so nice to me and complimenting me a lot. I-”

“Yes, I do,” he replies casually as if you two are discussing the weather 

he takes a swig of his water before realizing what he just said to you 

the water goes down the wrong pipe and the next thing he knows 

he’s choking 

he hacks out a lung while you pat his back 

you’re kind of glad this happened because you need a moment to process his answer

he just straight up told you how he feels 

oh my god

once he’s breathing normally again, you two are sitting in silence once more 

“I, um, like you too,” you admit quietly, biting your lip afterwards 

“Don’t bite your lip. That’s my job,” he says as he puts his thumb below your lip and forces your bottom lip out of your mouth 

he can’t believe he just said that either 

is that too forward? Did he scare you off? 

“Then why aren’t you doing it?” you whisper back, your eyes meeting his 

your face is the hottest it’s ever felt 

he seems to notice but only pays attention to that for a second before  his eyes are closing as he kisses you 

you two makeout for a while 

and after that, you two makeout a lot 

like, all the time 

you two do it in secret though, per your suggestion 

you just figured that Bakugo would want it that way seeing as how you two will be teased a lot and it’ll just piss him off 

after one specifically spicy sesh, you pull back to pant for air as you look him over 

god, it really is illegal to look this good 

his hair is disheveled from your hands 

his lips are a little swollen from how hard you two were kissing 

he has red marks littered over his neck from your lips and teeth

and you’re sure you’re much worse than him 

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask. If you weren’t suddenly being nice to just be nice, why have you been so kind to everyone and whatnot?” 

you watch him press his lips together, your brow raising as you watch him seemingly fight with himself 

“I was hit with a quirk that makes it impossible to lie,” he admits 

now this is interesting 

you don’t even realize you’re smirking until he speaks up 

“Whatever you’re thinking, no.” 

you pout and wrap your arms loosely around his neck 

“I’m not thinking anything,” you feign innocence 

“Yeah, right,” he replies sarcastically 

you pout before deciding to let the innocent facade go 

“When did you start liking me?” 

you watch his lips press together again, a blush rising to his face

“C’mon, just tell me! I’ll tell you how long I’ve liked you if you tell me first!” you compromise 

he huffs and rolls his eyes, doing his best to give you a bored look as he says in a monotone, “The sports festival.”

your jaw drops at this 

that long ago? You weren’t even in the Bakusquad yet!

“Awe, you had a crush on me without me even knowing,” you coo, playfully pinching his cheeks 

“Shut up. Your turn,” he snaps while smacking your hands away 

you giggle and wrap your arms back around him, thinking for a moment 

“Well, I thought you were cute on the first day. But then you’re ego was just so big and you were just so angry—”

“Okay, I get it,” he interrupts, glaring at you 

you laugh at his reaction and lean forward to give him a sweet kiss before continuing 

“Then, Mina had me join your friend group. I got to know you better and I realized how you show your affection for others. It’s all just hidden behind harsh words and actions. I see through it now though,” you finish softly, brushing some of his wild hair back before watching it spring back up 

he stares at you for a long moment, just remaining silent 

“That’s one reason I like you, you know. You’re so observant.”

you blush at his compliment, quickly hiding your face in his neck to hopefully conceal the embarrassed look coming over your face from his eyes 

“Plus, you’re so easy to fluster,” he teases as he playfully pinches your thigh

the sound of your smacks to his chest are covered up by his laughter 

it didn’t take long for Mina to catch on to you two though 

“Bakugo, do you like (Y/n)?” she singsongs when all of you are hanging out in the common room one day 

all of them wait for him to deny it and start to yell at her 

“Yeah. We are dating,” he says calmly 

they all gape at him in shock and surprise 

“Stop gawking at me.” 

after he speaks again, they all go into a frenzy 

“You two are dating?”

“When did this happen?” 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” 

he pulls you into his side protectively as he growls at them before shouting, “Because it’s none of your business, you extras! You all are so annoying! I want to blow out my ear drums just so I don’t have to listen to you all yap!” 

Bakugo then goes quiet 

he, obviously, doesn’t want to blow out his ear drums 

that was a lie 

oh my god, it’s over 

after a grueling week, he can finally be himself again 

thank the heavens 

“Aww, c’mon, Bakubro.”

“You’ve been so nice this past week. What happened?” 

“I hate all of you. Leave me alone,” he snaps. 

all of them smile at his crude words

every time he’d be nice, they’d frown and furrow their brows 

they missed this 

“You’re so cute when you’re mad,” you tease, kissing his cheek 

“Shut up, extra,” he snaps at you next 

you can’t take him seriously though with his face being as pink as it is and his arm tightening around you

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MASTERLIST

More with Bakugo

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[joyfulhopelox]

Rosy Carnation

Pairing: painter!Min Yoongi x skater!reader (non-idol! au)

Genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst

Warnings: some talk about social anxiety, Yoongi is a bit harsh in the beginning but rest is just pure fluff

Word count: 6k

rating: pg

Summary: There was nothing in this world that Yoongi hated more than busybodies. Unfortunately for him one particular ditzy skater decides to break the peace by crashing into his life and offering him a rosy carnation

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner (thank you @mochi-molala for giving me the artistic approval for this think you didn’t realise how much it helped)

This is part 3 of my Love Blossom series and quite unedited, i tried but some mistakes may have escaped my notice

As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3

There was nothing more peaceful than being able to sit by the river in the early hours of the morning. Every day without fail, Yoongi would take advantage of the sleeping city and set camp by the riverside situated just on the outskirts.

The place was far from being secluded, its location sign-posted by the popular park that housed it. But he knew that during those hours no one bothered to visit, everyone was busy with their office jobs. It wasn’t that he was unemployed, it just so happened that his job allowed him to work from wherever and at whatever time. In fact, the more scenic the location the better for him. As a painter he had the freedom to choose his office, and his most prefered location happened to be by the riverside. The stillness of the morning, the sun just about to peek out from under the city skyline and the sound of the birds conversing amongst each other relaxed him. And if there was one thing that permitted Yoongi to paint without restrictions, was the tranquility of everything around him.

His normal spot, under a beech tree, was rarely used, the pathway that passed by it not being used by the general population. Sometimes he would spot the occasional cyclist passing by on their way to work, sometimes he would hear the scraping of the skateboards doing tricks in the skate park located behind the wall of trees that surrounded him. But no one ever bothered him, or was bothered by him. And it suited him and his needs just fine.

Yoongi disliked it when his flow was interrupted. Luckily for him, it rarely happened. No one threw him more than a glance as no one found the scene to be out of place. Sometimes he would be pulled out of his thoughts by the yap of a dog that got too excited at the prospect of a new human. Other times he would be questioned by the curious child that has never seen a painter at work. Those did not inconvenience him, the innocence and sincerity of the interference was enough to not disturb him.

However, what he miscalculated that day was the early start of the fishing season. One bad trait of being a painter working under your own schedule was losing track of time. And so when that one morning he trudged along with his canvas and his tools to his sacred spot only to find it occupied by fishermen he almost had a panic attack. He forgot all about that, and so unprepared, he did not know what to do or where to relocate. Pausing for a couple of minutes, his eyes scrutinising the men sitting on the riverbank in complete stillness, he contemplated on setting up his stool next to them. But when one of them yelled in glee at having caught a fish, he decided he’d rather not. Fishermen needed to be still because of the nature of their activity, that did not mean they were quiet people overall.

Disappointed and a bit frazzled, Yoongi picked up his canvas from where he set it next to his foot and left the area to scout for a substitute.

After what felt like a good few minutes of walking in circles, he found himself passing by a small public garden right in the middle of the greenery encompassing the riverside. He inspected it quietly, his eyes taking in the flower arrangements and the neatly cut grass. Has that always been there? Probably, it is not like he ventured out of his safe spot. But now, when forced to he realised that maybe there were other places where he could sit and paint in peace. Determinately, he walked into the small gated garden familiarising himself with the layout. There were some benches strewn across the space, all of them framed by vibrant rose bushes, some young oak trees judging by their height but what caught his eye most importantly was the small gazebo tucked away at the back of the garden gated by rows of variously coloured carnations. He decided that it would be the perfect spot, it would have to do for now. Not like he had any other choice. The morning was almost gone, the heat of the midday sun bleeding its way into the breeze. Soon the park will get busier and busier.

Dumping his belongings on the ground he sets off to unpack everything so he could get started. He felt strangely excited about this new spot he had found. Somehow, the novelty of the environment has given him the inspiration that he needed for today’s session. He normally shied away from new experiences, new people and most importantly unexpected circumstances, but this circumstance was more than welcome.

As he sat on his stool, paint brush in hand, the blank canvas staring at him, daring him to fill it with his vision he bit his lip. Suddenly so many ideas zoomed through his mind that he had a hard time deciphering which one sounded the best.

However, none of them made it on the actual canvas.

A skateboard zoomed straight past his feet,out of control, knocking into his carefully placed tools; acrylics and brushes scattered all over the ground in various corners of the gazebo. An exasperated yell and some harsh pants followed said abomination. Yoongi, who was too stunned to even form a sentence or comprehend what was happening around him, stared as you ran towards him at full speed.

“I’m so sorry, sorry sorry sorry” you repeated zooming towards him at breakneck speed. Still in shock Yoongi still couldn’t process what was happening around him. You were going to barrel straight into him but all he could do was blink, his brain still trying to catch up with the situation. One moment you were running towards the skateboard and the next moment found you laying sprawled at his feet.

“Ouch” Yoongi blinked once, twice, three times, and reality finally caught up with him.

He stared at the mess around him. His canvas was lying on the ground a few good feet away from him, its white clean surface now completely smudged with dirt and his acrylics and brushes were all scattered at his feet. The sight of his paints not only disorganised in such a fashion but also crushed and spilled all over the ground caused his stomach to drop. They were not the cheapest and they were also the only ones he had left. It was clear there was nothing to salvage, he had to go once more to the art store and buy more.

“Ohmygod i am so sorry!” The frantic voice was loud enough to make Yoongi wince.

You were not having a good day, and it showed. You started the morning by burning your toast. Then you forgot to grab your keys, which resulted in you having to beg your landlord for the spare in the early hours of the morning. To say they were not pleased was an understatement. You spilled coffee on your white top on your way to the park. And to top it all off you ended up hurtling towards an extremely handsome man.

You decided in the morning that you would try to learn that late kickflip your friends have been trying to teach you, but as a new skater you decided to practice in the garden just off the side of the skate park. One foot placement went wrong and your skate ran from under your feet flying towards the unsuspecting victim.

Luckily it did not hit him, however it scattered all of his belongings all over the dirty ground. It felt as if you were watching all of that happen in slow motion, when in reality it probably only took you a second to react. Trying to help and get a hold of your skate, you rushed to catch it in time before it disappeared into the row of carnations. But you miscalculated entirely the distance between you and the stranger, his foot halting your run.

And that is how you ended up there, on the floor, at his feet, covered in his paints.

You sprung up as fast as you could ignoring the tingling in your leg and started apologising profusely. However, the harshness at which you crashed on the floor combined with the speed at which you got up were a fatal combination. The blood rushed to your feet quicker than you could process and your knees gave out from under you. In an attempt to not crash onto the floor again you grabbed onto the closest stable object you could. Only, it happened to not be an object but a person. So with a clammy hand you latched onto the man in front of you.

Yoongi did not know what to do. You had grabbed onto him with such conviction that his brain malfunctioned. He hated to be touched, especially by strangers. And so when the fight or flight instinct kicked in he shrugged you off violently causing you to crumple on the floor once again.

“Ouch.” Your butt hurt and you wanted to be annoyed at him, but when you looked up to let your feelings known and your eyes locked onto his panicked ones, you paused. He looked ready to run off on you. “I- uh, am sorry” You tried once more to get up, this time as slowly as you could. You knew there would be a bruise later but it was not something you were unfamiliar with.

Yoongi did not respond to you. He couldn’t, his brain was still ready to shut down. He normally ran away from any human interaction, the nature of his job enough to facilitate such behaviour. Being faced with it and in such an unexpected way caused his anxiety to be at an all time high. And so he did what he normally does best; he retreated within himself completely ignoring your apology.

Silently he stepped away from you and crouched down to start picking up his belongings. With an anguished sigh he took in the mess that his acrylics had become. It was going to cost him a lot to be able to replace them but what other choice did he have?

Taking his silence as a sign of anger, you panicked. If there was one thing you could not stand was to see someone angry. Especially when it was directed at you. In an attempt to amend yourself to him you crouched down next to him and started picking up his stuff. “I am really sorry. I didn't mean to. It was just a new trick that i wanted to learn, and i am a newbie at all this and so i was scared to go to the skate park and try them. And I am a clutz and I knew this was going to happen at some point! The day has already started on such a bad note-”

You knew you were rambling, you were nervous. But Yoongi did not care about that. He just wanted you gone. He wanted his peace back, he wanted to get his work done and retreat back to his home and most importantly, he wanted you to get your hands off of his possessions.

Without looking at you, he harshly grabbed for the brushes that you had gathered in your hand. “Leave” he surprised himself at how resolute he managed to sound despite the slight waver in his voice.

“Are you angry? Oh my god you are! I am so sorry again, let me make it up to you! I really did not mean to destroy your work!” you get up once more rushing towards the canvas that lay a few feet away from the two of you. Picking it up you stare at the blank piece of material.

“Oh, are you an artist?” you turn to him, your eyes sparkling with excitement. Completely forgetting the incident from earlier you giddily walk over, the canvas extended towards him.

Yoongi could not believe his eyes, your brash behaviour in front of a complete stranger that has made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you was baffling to him. He contemplated for a second the thought of you being deaf, but then no because you had clearly heard him the first time. His anxiety quickly morphed into annoyance, if you weren’t going to leave he decided he would.

Taking a hold of the canvas you were handing over to him he pulled it out of your hands and stuffed it under his arm. Crouching down again he hurriedly stuffs his brushes and acrylics in his bag. He wanted to get out of there as quickly as he could before you had the chance to touch any of his belongings again.

“Hey, i-uh. Please don’t be angry. I really am sorry. Look you don’t have to leave, i will go” Yoongi paused, his hand hovering above his palette. Chancing a glance at you, his eyes widened a fraction. You looked completely frazzled. Not even looking at him, your eyes focused on your fretting hands. He could just about see a snippet of your face and the way your bottom lip was trembling slightly made his anger melt a little. Maybe he has been a bit too harsh on you.

“Yes” he offers offhandedly whilst placing his canvas back to where it was before.

At his change in tone your head snaps up and you gape at him. “What?” you breathe out in surprise. His soft but deep voice took you by surprise. It was extremely smooth and you had not expected it to come out of his mouth.

He did not offer you anything else, leaving you gawking at him, watching as he set up his canvas onto the easel. You were silent for a couple of minutes trying to understand what he had meant when it finally hit you.

“Ah! You are an artist! That is amazing, what type of paintings do you do? Is it nature?” you clapped your hands excitedly. “Of course it is nature Y/N, he is in the middle of the gazebo how dumb can you be” you muttered to yourself whilst shaking your head.

Yoongi glanced at you from his periphery. He wasn’t feeling as threatened by your presence as he had before, but that did not mean he was comfortable with you being there. He observed you for a couple of seconds watching as you muttered to yourself for the time being. He took it as a chance to set his palette down and tried to squeeze whatever was left of his acrylics onto it.

You realised a bit too late that you had started daydreaming whilst muttering to yourself and so with rosy cheeks you mutter another apology.

“You apologise too much.” Yoongi did not know where his courage had come from but he couldn’t stop the words spilling from his mouth. “I asked you to leave.” His harsh words caused you to flinch, but your eagerness to see him paint rooted you on the spot.

“Is-uh,” you took a deep breath in trying to calm your beating heart, “is it ok if i stay here and watch you?” You cringed at how voyeuristic that sounded. But you had to admit to yourself, the honey haired guy, with soft plump cheeks and pouty lips has caught your interest and you were not ready to part with him just yet.

Yoongi didn’t respond, he’s made it clear he wanted you gone, but he finally understood that the clumsy human that managed to wreck his set up was a stubborn one. He chose instead to ignore your presence and settle on his painting, giving you unspoken permission to do as you pleased.

Catching onto the meaning of his silence you beamed and sat yourself down.

Trying your hardest to be silent you bit your lip. You knew he wouldn’t appreciate you disturbing him any longer. Soon enough, you slipped into a daydream your eyes focused on the flowers behind the hunched form of the intriguing artist.

Yoongi sighed in satisfaction, his painting was finally finished. He had opted to use greens this time, the nature around him inspiring the concept behind this. However, he could not help but add the dots of red here and there, its fiery tumultuous colour breaking the tranquility of the greens. Just like you had thundered into his life just earlier.

“Woah” broken out of the daydream by the sound of his sigh, your eyes focused on the painting before you. You knew you were easily impressed but this painting was stunning. “That is so cool” you whispered in awe.

Yoongi blushed, he had been complimented a lot on his work, but there was something about the sincerity shining through your statement that frazzled him. He nodded in acknowledgment. He had enough knowledge to be aware that he needed to thank you for the compliment.

“Oh!” you sprung up suddenly the transition making him jump. “I am late!” You quickly picked up your skateboard. “Ah,” stopping mid run you turn back. Rushing to the bushes of carnations you pick one up. With confident stride you head back.

Yoongi watched you, once again his mind completely discombobulated by your abruptness. When you halt in front of him and push the flower into his hands he doesn’t know how to react. Instead he just sits there waiting for your next move, his mind once again preparing him to flee.

“It was nice meeting you….uh?” You realised you did not ask for his name, so as you urge the flower into his grasp you wait patiently for him to offer it to you. When after a minute of silence he doesn’t you try again. “What is your name?”

“So can you like...teach me how to paint?” you eyes brightened at the thought.

“What?” Yoongi sputtered. A week has passed since the first time you decided to literally crash into his life. A week of your mindless chatter. Even so, he had tried his best to ignore you and your childish view of the world. He was ignoring you, but it was not like he couldn’t hear you.

He was not expecting that request, and yet, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him. Your randomness and innocence has been taking his breath away from the moment he saw you. You were all over the place, clumsy and random. He did not want to sit and ponder at that thought, feeling the shiver of anxiety creep back in. Schooling his expression to a neutral one he shook his head and went back to his canvas.

“No” the harsh tone of his voice made you flinch.

Not noticing the effect his words had on you he carried on, “You’d do a very poor job of it, and it hurts to think you’d waste all this material for some doodles.” Not giving you a chance to respond he sighed and put his brush down. “Finally finished.” He sat and observed his work for a couple of moments. He was satisfied, it was not his best work but he liked the outcome. The blue colour scheme gave him a sense of peace.

Realising the silence had gone on too long he turned around to face you. You were unnaturally quiet, your face scrunched up as if in deep thought. He would have thought you’d gone into one of your daydreams if not for the shiny gloss in your eyes. He could not understand why his heart did that flip, or why his mouth formed into a frown mirroring your own. Had he said something wrong? Mulling over his words he decided that maybe his tone was too harsh but you spoke up before he could try to remedy it.

“Ah, i see, you are right” you sniffed trying to mask the tears in your voice. “I am quite clumsy, there is no way i can make something as beautiful as this.” You gesture to his work, the canvas a swirl of blues, it reminded you of the ocean. You did not know why his words stung, it’s not like he didn’t have a point. You were probably incapable of creating something like that. Stick figures were all you could draw, and even those tended to be lopsided.

Yoongi’s heart clenched. “Uhh-” he did not know what to say, it wasn’t as if he could take it back. He did not want to take it back, he wasn’t a liar. But maybe he could have turned you down a bit softer than he has. He may have been awkward in social situations and missed a lot of cues, but the tears gathered in your eyes were hard to miss. Even he could sense the sadness that overpowered the atmosphere.

“It’s ok, i need to, uh go. I’ll see you next time. Here” you quickly drop something next to his brushes and without a second thought you turn away from him and leave as quickly as you’d arrived.

With your back turned towards him, your feet taking you further and further away you could finally release the sob that has been threatening to surface.His words hurt. But you were well aware it was not the words that caused the tear in your heart. It was the unfeeling and harsh way he threw them at you. You contemplated whether or not you should chance a glance behind you, but decided against it. You did not think you could stand the sight of him stepping on the last bit of dignity you had. A rosy carnation.

Yoongi knew he usually missed a lot of social cues. For example when the curator asked him out for a coffee and he told them he stopped drinking caffeine because it caused insomnia. Or when the gallery director had wanted to shake his hand in greeting and he simply just stared at it. It wasn’t as if he was unfamiliar with them, it was just that it took him a lot longer to process these cues than the average human being.

When you’d left him the carnation he simply threw a glance at it but did not give it a second thought as he carried on painting. He almost left it there when he packed up his tools- almost stepping on it. He saw it just in time, the rosy colour attracting his attention. He bent down and picked it up gently; the flower was almost wilted from the heat. Prepared to throw it away he thought of you and stopped. The sight of your flushed cheeks, your distressed eyes and the gleam of your tears weighing heavily on his mind. With a sigh he cradled the flower in his palm, he would put it in between the pages of a book and press it dry.

Yoongi had no clue why he kept visiting the gazebo to work on his paintings. His previous spot so rarely visited that he’s almost forgotten where it was. He tried to convince himself it was because fishing season has not ended and so he would have been bothered by the men setting up around him. He tried not to think of the fact that the thought of not having your voice there, or the noises of the skateboard you practiced with caused him distress. He told himself it was because after a month of having you there with him, you became part of his routine. Like the background noise of a radio in the morning.

He could not pinpoint when your mindless chatter and pleas to ask him to teach you how to paint had become comforting to him. Even at home when he would try to read, he would pick up a book and open it only to come across a rosy carnation drying in between its pages.

You had made it a habit to leave him a flower every time you came to see him. He did not ponder too long as to why, but he’s kept them all. He did not want to ponder too long on that thought either. So he ignored it, but deep down he knew why.

Your eagerness, your clumsiness, your childish view of the world were enough to melt the wall he has built around himself. Somehow, you chipped at that wall with determination just like you did on the first day you met. Ungraceful and uncoordinated.

He knew you’d wormed your way into his soul and just like the flowers he kept pressing for safekeeping, he’s ingrained the memory of you into his brain.

When you’d started to ask more personal questions he found himself answering without a second thought.

“So, uh, have you always wanted to be a painter?” You were sat next to him tinkering with the wheels of your skateboard, from time to time getting distracted at the way his long fingers were clutching the brush. You blushed, thankful he was distracted by his work.

“No,” Yoongi paused to bend down and pick his palette and you thought that was the extent of the information he was willing to provide. “My parents wanted me to be a lawyer.” With a new colour on his brush he squinted focusing on getting the lines just right, the tip of his tongue sticking out slightly in concentration.

The silence that ensued settled heavily around the two of you. “Oh,” your voice did not sound too surprised. Yoongi glanced at you, you were gazing at him with such understanding that he found it hard to tear his gaze away. “Are they happy you chose to do what you love instead?” You carried on, trying out your luck.

Yoongi looked away from you, he couldn’t say what he wanted to say whilst your eyes were digging deep into his soul. “I wouldn’t know.” He shrugged as if to make a point. “I left home to move here and haven’t spoken to them since.”

The words, heavy as lead, echoed in your brain. But they were not unfamiliar. “I am sure they would want to talk to you. My parents died when i was young and i was raised by my grandparents.” Your voice sounded casual, but the slight change of tone made Yoongi raise his eyes to look at you. You were smiling at him, your face not giving away any of the pain you were feeling inside.

Yoongi may have been socially anxious, but he was observant, he couldn’t help it, it was the nature of his job. His eyes picked up on the way your chin trembled and his ears caught the slight waver in your voice. He didn’t know how it happened until he felt the corners of his mouth raising up. And with an uncertain smile in your direction, he managed to erase the sadness that clouded over your face.

“Pick up that brush” his tone softer than you have ever heard it.

“Huh?” You didn’t know where the change in tone had come from, but it managed to take you by surprise.

“Pick up the brush,” he repeated his head nodding in the direction of said tools. “And come here.” He stood up from his stool gently grabbing your wrist and pulling you up. The contact of his cold hands on your warm ones made you shiver, but in the heat of the summer it felt comforting. You savoured the way his gentle hands pulled you into the chair and handed you the brush he had been holding. Softly he guided your hand onto the canvas and your breath stopped.

His hands, the hands you had been observing ever since you met him, were smooth. His long slender fingers imprinting themselves onto the back of your hand. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from the way the pale skin of his slender wrist peeked from under the long sleeve he was wearing. The skin on the inside of his wrist almost translucent enough to allow his veins to show.

“Like this” he steered the brush onto the canvas, his voice so close to your ear it made you your heart skip a beat. When the bristles made contact with the material of the canvas leaving the mark of the acrylic on it, you knew. Just like the doodle he’s made, his mark on your heart would be permanent.

Yoongi didn’t know when he started craving your touch. It just happened. He carried on giving you lessons, finding it ironic how adamant he was at the beginning to refuse you. Little by little he started looking forward to his morning ritual of setting up in the garden, your clumsy self stumbling in the gazebo just as he was about to set his easel down. He would not even sit himself first, he would grab your hand allowing himself to revel in the way your smaller rough hand would fit into his larger one and sit you on the stool. Handing you the brushes he would sit next to your skateboard and watch as you tried to create something on the canvas, your brows furrowed in concentration.

How ironic that you would switch places. He would sit for a couple of hours watching your uncertain movements and listen to the small sounds of glee when you’d manage to get the brush to do what you wanted it to. His heart would pound in his chest when your tongue would flit across your lips subconsciously and the small smile gracing his lips would be a permanent fixture on his face. He did not care that he hasn’t painted in a few weeks. He was more than satisfied watching you.

When your painting session would end you’d end up talking for hours under the shade of the gazebo, the smell of flowers wafting all around you.

And you would always leave with lighter hears and the crinkle of a smile indented in the corner of your eyes and him with a rosy carnation cradled to his chest waiting to join the rest of the others.

When one morning you didn’t arrive at your usual time under the gazebo Yoongi noticed. He decided to wait for you for hours, but when the sun bled under the city skyline and the night settled in he decided it was time to go home. With a heavy heart and an empty hand he returned home hoping that the next day you would arrive and tell him about your day.

But one day turned into two, which turned into a week, which then turned into two- and before he knew it a whole month had passed.

In the beginning Yoongi would wait for you patiently, hoping that he would hear your yelps or even your greeting from afar. When that did not happen, he decided he would use that time to continue painting, maybe you’d arrive halfway through and ask him about it. When that didn’t happen either he noticed that instead of a smile on his face he now wore a frown.

After a whole month of not seeing you he became numb to the feeling. He decided that he would not let his mind ponder too much on your absence. But he could not completely block the way his thoughts would return back to you, and he could not help the wistful gaze he would throw the carnations around the gazebo.

As the months of summer wilted into the chill of autumn, the day he decided to stop waiting for you was the day you once again stumbled into him.

Running as fast as your leg permitted you halted a meter away from him, your breath coming out in harsh pants. Yoongi faltered, the grasp he had on his brush slackening, the tool clattering to the ground. He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t. Instead his eyes took in the way your form trembled with exhaustion, stopping at the wrapped up parcel you had under your arm.

“I am so so so sorry” you rasped, the effort causing you to cough. Looking up at him, your gaze met his dark one. He did not look upset, or even disinterested. He looked concerned, then you realised the state you came to see him in.

Yoongi took notice immediately at the lack of skateboard, this time replaced by a crutch. The way you were favouring one leg over the other concerned him. Had you been in an accident?

“I am so sorry,” you repeated, taking him back to the first moment he’s met you. Your clumsy self apologising incessantly and rambling in nervousness. “I fell one day whilst on the way here, and i broke my leg. I did not mean to stop showing up i promise! I had wanted to come see you as soon as i left the doctor’s office but the injury was worse than i could have suspected and- and” your voice wavered, trembling in exhaustion, still not having caught your breath.

Yoongi got up without a word, his silent form approaching yours. When only a few inches were left between the two of you he places both of his hands on your shoulders halting your apology. Looking up at him your gaze softens, his eyes were glossy but his mouth curled up in a smile.

“You’re ok” he repeated over and over as if to reassure himself. Your eyes now mirroring his own watery ones you nod.

In a flash he hugs you tightly, your crutch clattering to the ground and the parcel under the other arm making a dull thud as it hit the dirty floor. You gasped in surprise, your arms not knowing where to settle themselves. After a couple of seconds your brain catches up and relaxes and you melt into his hug. Despite his hands being always cold, his hug is warm and inviting.

You think back to the first time you met, how his cold words told you to leave him be. The drastic change in his attitude and demeanour make you smile softly. You burrowed your head in his shoulder inhaling his scent. He smelt of oils and acetone with an undertone of something floral, and you gasp. Carnations.

As if remembering something important you pulled yourself away from his touch, the cold autumn air making you shiver at the loss of contact.

Yoongi is confused for a moment, his eyes widening in panic. Has he made the wrong move? Has he read your intentions wrong? His heart clenches at the thought of you not returning the feelings that bloomed in his chest. But when you offer him a reassuring smile and bend down, grabbing onto his arm for support his emotions settle.

“This is for you” your hands were shaking. Handing over the mysterious parcel, you waited patiently for him to take it.

He glances at it uncertainly, but when you push it towards him his hand wraps around it. With as much skill as he could he opened it with one hand. Tearing the paper away he gasped. The corner of a canvas is sticking through the whole.

Looking at you in surprise your nervous eyes urge him to carry on. So he does.

The paper now completely teared open, his eyes settle onto a familiar flower painted onto the canvas. A carnation.

You watched him open your gift. You had tried your hardest during the time you were stuck at home with a cast on to practice and after weeks of painful frustrated tears, you’d finally managed to get it right. You had wanted to convey your feelings in a way that he would understand without feeling the pressure to conform to societal norms. To show him how much his effort to accommodate you and include you in his secluded life meant to you.

“Did you know,” you were whispering, “that rosy carnations mean admiration?”

Yoongi finally got it, realisation dawning over his features. He looked up at you, overwhelmed by the emotions flooding his chest. You were still smiling at him a tear now running down your cheek. “I wanted to convey my admiration for you in a way that would be permanent.” The hand on his arm tightened as if you make a point. “So i tried my best to do that.”

Yoongi smiled, not the uncertain smile you were used to, a full smile, the gums of his teeth showing, his features softening.

“A painting is not eternal, but with the artist the painting it over and over again it can be.” His free hand cups your cheek gently. “So stay with me.”

Main Masterlist

[nightshade-minho]

-Blue Book- (4)

Warnings:

Word Count: 2.6k

The next morning, Chan made sure to come to school early, since he wanted to talk to you. He found you leaning against your locker, and quickly made his way over to you.

"Hey~" 

You looked up, a wide smile growing on your face as you removed your earphones.

"Chan! You don't usually come to school this early..."

"Uh yeah, I know. I kinda wanted to talk to you without my friends breathing down my neck."

"Hm, makes sense."

Chan let out a sigh, leaning back against the lockers. "My friends are kind of possessive...I wanna spend more time with you, but then at the same time I don't want to ignore them and hurt their feelings."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oka-"

"Which is why I want to introduce you to them. We can hang out together..."

"Oh, um. Your friends..." You sighed uncomfortably, clutching your book harder. "...I don't think they like me very much..." 

That was an understatement. Minho's insults, Hyunjin's teasing remarks, Seungmin's glares whenever you answered a question right...it was clear that Chan's friends weren't fans of you.

"It's fine. They'll be fine once they meet you."

Chan came closer slowly, almost caging you against the locker as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, smiling. "I like you a lot...so I'm sure they will, too." 

Leaning in a little closer, he mumbled in your ear. "And if they don't...well, they can suck it. All I know is, you're my girl now and I'm not letting you sit alone at lunch."

"W-wait..." you looked up, blushing. "I'm your...what?"

He chuckled, pulling away from you and winking as he walked away. 

"See you at lunch!" He called.

***

You stood there with your tray, nervously looking over at Chan's table. Just a few steps more...

Your heart was beating fast as you told yourself to suck it up. Inhaling deeply, you made your way to the table, trying to smile.

Chan looked up as he saw you approach, grinning as he raised his hand and waved. 

"Y/n! Come over here~" He patted the empty seat next to him.

You sat there, nervously avoiding eye contact with everyone at the table. A second later, you felt Chan wrap an arm around you, pulling you close.

Minho tilted his head in amusement at the gesture, exchanging glances with Seungmin.

"Guys, you know Y/n..." Chan introduced, looking around the table.

"Hm, how could we not? She's always yapping away in class." Seungmin said, leaning back in his chair. "Damn, the rest of us can't even get a word in." 

You knew this would happen. Why had you agreed to this?

"Look, I'm alright sitting at my old tab-"

"No." Chan turned to Seungmin, harshly glaring. "Shut up."

There was an awkward silence as Hyunjin rolled his eyes, going back to texting on his phone. 

"So...Y/n, why don't you tell us about yourself?" Felix asked slowly, trying to break the ice a little.

You pondered for a while, wondering what to say. "Um, well...I moved here with my mom. I like drawing..."

"Hmm, yeah. In that little book of yours, right?" Changbin mentioned.

"How- um, yeah...I mean-" You tripped over your words as Chan widened his eyes, shooting him a death glare. He was going to kill them.

"Um, do you have any hobbies?" Jeongin spoke up quickly, trying to divert your attention.

"This is kind of starting to feel like a job interview." You giggled, sitting up a little. "Well it's drawing and journalling, as I mentioned before. I also quite enjoy studying."

"Trust me. We know." Minho snapped, leaning back in his chair. "God, I'm bored. Who let this bitch sit here, anyway? Are you trying to turn us all into social pariahs, Chan?"

You couldn't sit there and just take it anymore. You stood up, chair screeching against the floor as you stormed across the cafeteria, leaving out the back door of the school. Leaning against the wall, you tried not to cry. 

They were just a few insults, right? It wasn't full on bullying, per se...but it still hurt. So much. 

Deep down, you were a little thankful. This had served as a wake-up call...you simply didn't belong in Chan's world.

***

Chan couldn't control his anger. As soon as you left, he groaned, glaring at Minho who was chuckling to himself.

"Honestly? I expected you to try and sabotage this, especially since it's your bet." He turned to Seungmin. "But you. I never expected it from you. You're supposed to be the mature one. Now how the fuck am I going to get her to trust me?" He snapped, running a hand through his hair.

"Maybe...maybe you should go check on her..." Felix suggested. 

"Yeah that's what I was going to do, anyway." Chan rolled his eyes, standing up and following you.

***

"Psst."

You looked up, wiping your teary eyes.

"Listen...don't take what they say to heart. It takes time for them to warm up to people."

"I don't- I just can't do this." You said softly. "I'm sorry."

"But...you can! I...I like you. Please don't leave me."

You frowned at the ground, not knowing what to say. "Look, Chan...I like you too. Maybe more than I should, but-"

"So stay! Please. If you like me, then it shouldn't matter what my friends think."

"I guess..."

"Please. I need you to come to that carnival with me. If you spend just a little more time with them, I promise they'll like you."

You sighed. You did want to go to the carnival...and you definitely didn't want to go alone. 

"Okay." You mumbled.

"Good girl." He said softly, tilting your chin up to face him. "I'll pick you up at 5. How's that sound?"

"Yeah, alright."

"We're gonna have so much fun, you and I."

***

You looked in the mirror, wondering if you looked good. You hadn't worn a dress in months, and were surprised that your old dress from 6th grade still fit you.

It was a cute dress, navy blue with tea-cup sleeves. Combined with your usual saddlebag, the outfit looked more put-together than anything you'd worn in years...you hoped Chan would like it.

Exiting your room, you went downstairs to try and find your mom, so you could ask her for some pocket money to use at the carnival. When you found her, she was passed out on the couch, a bottle of beer on her stomach, her hair sticking out in every direction. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. 

Honk honk.

You perked up when you heard Chan in his car, deciding to pull the blanket over your Mom further before leaving out the front door, carefully locking it.

As you walked towards the car, you felt your heart sink as you realized he wasn't alone. 

In the passenger seat was Minho, one of Chan's friends...probably the one who hated you the most out of all of them. You carefully ignored him as you smiled at Chan, who grinned right back.

"You look so pretty." He really did think so. It wasn't the dress, or the way you did your hair, though that was nice as well. It was the huge smile on your face, radiant with happiness as you got into the backseat, greeting him.

"Thank you! You look good too...like always."

Chan's cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he took in the compliment.

"I'm so excited...I've never been to a carnival before." You said, smiling.

It was almost contagious, your enthusiasm. Chan chuckled as he started the car, Minho glancing over and frowning at the way he was smiling softly to himself. Huh...

"Well, I can guarantee you'll have fun. There's so much stuff to do." 

The rest of the ride, you chatted with Chan as Minho looked out the window, grumbling to himself as he ignored everything around him.

"Fucking finally, we're almost there." Minho noted, snapping. "If I have to spend one more fucking second in this car with her, I'll combust."

You inhaled, the anger building up in you. Just who did this guy think he is?

"I have a name, you know."

"Like I give a fuck." Minho chuckled, pushing the door open before Chan could even park the car properly. 

Chan watched as Minho left, walking towards Jisung, Changbin and Hyunjin who were standing near the entrance.

Wait...there was a fourth person.

Chan gulped as he realized it was Miyoung. His Miyoung. His heart started beating impossibly faster as he looked away, turning to you.

"About Minho...I'm sorry. He can be a little cold..."

"A little?" You scoffed. "Right. Well, whatever. I don't care as much as I did before."

You opened the car door, getting out and dusting off your skirt as you tried to put a smile back on your face.

"Come on, I want to go get some cotton candy~"

Chan smiled, tucking his car keys in his pocket as he joined you. He watched as Minho reached the small group, going in for a hug with Miyoung. A wave of jealousy crashed through him, and he looked away, trying to focus on you.

"The last time I had cotton candy, I was like 5..."

He slowly decided to take your hand in his as you continued talking. When your brain finally registered the warmth of his hand holding yours, you looked up in slight shock, forgetting what you'd been talking about.

"Is this okay?" He asked, squeezing gently. You nodded after a second, cheeks burning as you looked down at your intertwined hands. 

***

Changbin watched as the two of you approached, his eyes noting your hands with a frown.

He nudged Jisung lightly. "Wow, Chan's really intent on making her think he likes her."

"Uh huh. The dude's got dedication, for sure." Jisung nodded, as his eyes travelled from the two of you to Minho who had noticed as well.

Frowning, Minho quickly took Miyoung's hand in his as well, not wanting to be one-upped. The girl blushed a little, staring ardently at the boy whose glare was aimed right at Chan.

"Am I the only one who finds this kind of funny?" Changbin asked, laughing as he observed.

"Nope. This whole thing was a joke from the beginning, anyway." Hyunjin shrugged, looking up from his phone. "Also Felix, Seung and Jeongin said they'll be here in a few minutes, guys. They told us to go ahead."

Chan greeted his friends, his eyes glancing at Miyoung from time to time. However, the girl paid absolutely no attention to him, her enamoured gaze focused on Minho, who was engaged in a conversation with Hyunjin.

He felt frustration bubble up in him. Why wasn't she interested in him? 

You cleared your throat, making Chan look at you. "I believe I was promised some cotton candy..."

Chan smiled. "Yes I did, baby. And you'll get it, but first, let me win you a plushie." He said, glancing at Minho and Miyoung who had already separated from the guys, heading towards a game booth.

"Oh...sure!" You nodded in excitement. He pulled you along, walking faster as he reached the booth, standing next to Minho.

"Ah, Chan. Wanna compete?"

"You always know I'm down for a good ol’ competition."

You stepped back, and so did Miyoung. Looking over at her, you decided to smile. She hesitated a bit before smiling back, sidling closer tentatively.

"Isn't it hot, them competing to impress us?" She giggled, clapping her hands in delight as Minho scored, making Chan grumble. "He's soo macho..." 

You sighed inwardly. "Yeah...I guess." You watched, bemused as Minho landed another goal, Chan letting out a string of curse words. 

"Oh...don't worry, your boyfriend is nice too! Chan, isn't it?"

"Mmhmm."

"He's cute. He just isn't my type, you know? But it's okay if you like jocks." She smiled giddily as Minho turned to wink at her, before he went back to trying to score. "I prefer the sexy, mysterious type."

You were trying really hard not to roll your eyes, now. Nothing about Minho was a mystery- he was just another high school bully with hidden insecurities which he hid behind smirks and winks. 

As Minho scored the third goal, Miyoung cheered happily and went towards him as he wrapped his hand around her waist, grinning at Chan. 

You patted his back, Chan's glare softening as he turned to look at you. 

"It's okay. You'll win next time." 

Chan felt humiliation rise in him as he nodded at your words, still staring at Miyoung, who decided to press a kiss to Minho's cheek. Chan boiled with anger, shrugging your hand off him.

"Darn right I will. Hey, Minho? You and me, but at the ring toss. I'm better at that game."

Minho looked up, rolling his eyes and smirking. "You're such a bitter loser. But sure, you're on."

***

An hour and a half later, Minho and Chan were nowhere near done. You sat on the chair with Miyoung, bored out of your mind as you watched them go for another round at the ring toss, again.

Fine, whatever. If Chan wasn't going to get you cotton candy, you'll just get it yourself. You smiled at Miyoung and asked her if she wanted some too, an offer which she politely refused. 

You walked to the confectionery booth, which was fairly close. However, just as you reached, you realized you didn’t actually have any money.

As you turned to leave, you came face to face with a boy, almost bumping into him.

He was one of Chan's friends. Felix, you think his name was. Your eyes widened as you apologized. 

"Sorry, I didn't see you there-"

"No, no it's okay!" He smiled at you, and you noted how warm and genuine it was. Hmm, maybe not all of Chan's friends are bad. 

"I was just going to get ice-cream for me and the guys. Did you want some too?" He asked slowly as he approached the booth, still looking at you. 

"Um yeah, but then I forgot to bring my money, so-"

"Oh, that's completely fine! It’s my treat.."

"But-" 

"No buts." Felix grinned. "What flavor do you want?"

You giggled as you moved closer to stand next to him, peeking at the flavors. "I'm partial to the cookie dough, but strawberry does hit the spot sometimes."

He chuckled as he fished out the money, handing it over to the booth runner. "One chocolate and a half strawberry, half cookie dough scoop, please."

You smiled as the person behind the counter handed Felix the cups of ice cream. 

"Here you go~" he gave you yours, smiling as you took a small bite. "How's the combination? Do you like it?"

"Oh, it's actually really good! Wanna try?" You asked, raising the spoon to his face. He chuckled, nodding. "Of course."

Meanwhile, Chan finally scored another goal, making him the winner of the last round. Miyoung cooed at Minho, her hands on his chest as she nuzzled into him. "It's okayyy~ You won the most games anyway."

Chan looked around, wondering if you'd seen the way he'd scored the last goal. For some reason, the way Miyoung was cuddling up to Minho at the moment wasn't bothering him all that much, as he noticed you were missing.

His eyes searched his surroundings, frowning as he couldn't see you anywhere. Just as he was about to ask Miyoung, his eyes finally caught sight of you.

You were standing there, feeding Felix with a spoonful of ice-cream. The latter chuckled as he spilled some, smiling as you used a tissue to wipe it off his chin.

An uncomfortable emotion rose up in him, so sudden and out of the blue that he nearly grunted. It was an emotion he'd felt a lot of times before...but never caused by you.

Chan's eyes darted from Minho and Miyoung to you and Felix, throat going dry. 

It was jealousy, mixed with confusion. He stood rooted to the spot, his heart thrumming loudly as he tried to make sense of his emotions. Why did he feel like this?

[hyrule-kingdom-updates]

Astor just sighed to himself as he walked down the castle’s long hallways.

The windows on this level of the castle spanned from the floor to ceiling, with natural sunlight dripping in through the gold trim. His eyes squinted at the light, and he let his hair fall closer to his face. I should get a hood one of these days.

His footsteps were mostly quiet and unnoticable, which unfortunately for him, led to a less than ideal collision with someone as he turned the corner.

“SON OF A—”

The man ran straight into Astor, his papers scattering across the floor. He shook a fist at the prophet, angrily—he was some old soul with blond hair with bits of grey, and a weathered round face with a set of furious blue eyes. 

“Watch where you’re going, you clod!” Ligero yelled. “I have half a mind to report you for interfering with sensitive documents!”

Astor leaned down, picking up the papers—seemingly just full of various recorded tax benefits—and rolled his eyes, mumbling. “Yes...and we wouldn’t want you to stress yourself working on only half a brain…”

“What was that?”

“Mm...nothing…”

“You youths...I hate mumbling…” 

Astor fitted the papers into a neat stack before handing them back to Ligero, which he snatched up, flipping through them carefully. The prophet gave a shallow, shallow bow. 

“My deepest apologies...Lord Ligero.”  

Ligero suddenly stopped reading, raising an eyebrow and looking him up and down for a moment. “Do I...know you?”

He narrowed his eyes. “If the stars had aligned correctly, this would be our first and last meeting.”

The Lord wagged a finger at him as his eyes lit up. “Ahhh...you’re that crazy star seer. The one aways snuggled up in the queen’s shadow…”

“Gh…...I’m not—”

“Yeah…” Ligero rubbed his chin. “You’re that sickly twig that’s been whining about our deaths and such...always making a fuss since Elane died.” He chuckled to himself, while Astor scowled.

“Her Majesty’s...passing, puts the future of Hyrule on a path of certain doom. I believe I’ve made my predictions of past clear, that the princess will not awaken her power in—”

 “Ayap-yap-yap-yap-yap-yap…” Ligero opened and closed his hand like a mouth in mockery. “Listen boy, you won’t win any favours by spewing your miserable thoughts at every meeting.”

“Maybe I don’t desire your favour.”

“Well then who are you looking to please? Cause I’m afraid it’s a little late to cuck His Majesty any further.”

“Excuse me?” Astor took a step forward, but the Lord stood his ground with a smile, cocking his head to the side. 

“I mean, that’s the only reason some nobody like you is here in the first place, isn’t it? Royal connections? Lovely pity on a scrawny useless orph—”

“I’m here to do my job.”

“Aw, don’t live in denial, boy. I have an eye for this sort of thing. And I’m always partial to helping a lad in need…”

Astor was already turning to move past Ligero, but suddenly stopped. He smirked to himself in amusement. “Is that so…?”

“Oh sure. My own son I’ve raised to be the peak of perfection. Striking young man, dashing blond—like me—and skilled. Rising up the knight’s ranks faster than an octo balloon! That’s all me, all my parenting right th—”

“And which son is that?”

“My oldest, my…...one, son.” He glared at him with a frown. 

“Hmm…” Astor could barely hold back from snickering. “And what do you think of this oldest son then?”

“Oh, too much of his mother’s child, if you ask me. But much better than I in some regards, though of course, not all of them. Ohoho…”

“Yes…” Astor smiled to himself. “You’re a funny man, Ligero Hartell…”

Ligero finally stopped laughing to himself. “But you see, perfection like that isn’t born. It’s made and nurtured, you have to coax it out of them.” He poked Astor’s chest, and he flinched away in disgust. “Quit your mumbling, your babbling, your little grief stricken dreams, it’s all useless. No one cares for it.”

The Lord went to pat his head, like a puppy, but Astor dodged out of the movement with a verbal “nope” as he whipped behind him. Ligero just shrugged. “If you can’t churn yourself to be a better man, then you’ll have to settle for the next best thing. You want to be something more? Something of actual merit? Taken more seriously than some child that was dragged up these polished steps out of a late woman’s mercy?” He flicked his wrist, adjusting the cuff of his pristine white sleeve. “Stop chasing the dead. Don’t be blinded by replaceable things like compassion and the sort. Find a wealthy friend or something, get rich, get power.” 

Ligero turned to continue walking down the hall. “Besides, even if it is like you say—then all the more to ride the sayings of, ‘You only live once.’”

Astor glowered, watching Ligero walk away. He scoffed, and started to turn back towards his own destination, before the Lord called out once more—  

“And cut your hair or something! You’re no Rito, quit with the braids. It’ll get all greasy and frizzy...Trust me, I knew someone with hair like that, once.”

Astor’s expression softened just a bit—nearly undetectable—before immediately being replaced with a darker scowl.

He kept walking, his deep purple robes dancing just a finger-widths above the stone polished steps. He opened and closed his hand to himself, miming Ligero’s speaking.

“Always partial to helping a lad in need...gods, seems childhood memory has still captured him to perfection.” Astor came up on the wooden door, and walked inside. 

The ceiling was a stone dome, littered with old parchment maps, and Sheikah charts, along with chalk that outlined ancient constellations and designs. There was an old chalkboard—stolen, from the Sheikah department—with further sketches and notes, torn out pages from old journals and texts pinned to the board and walls. Even the window was covered by hanging gyrospheres and astrolabes, twirling in infinite suspension. Since they blocked the window’s hinges, they were probably the reason why the room smelled so musty.

Astor closed the door, and flopped down on an old velvet bench, staring at the ceiling in silence.

“BOO!”

“GAAaaAAAh!” Astor shot up, whipping his head at the dangerous intruder, only to find a giggling, blonde girl.

She was doing her best to muffle her laughter by holding her hands to her mouth. “Gotchu again, Mr. Astor!” 

He sighed. “What are you doing here?”

The princess shuffled towards his desk, hands already bored and ready to play with the nearest pointy object. “You took so long to get heeeeree….why was that old guy even talking to you?”

He fixed his hair behind his ears, not really paying attention. “Oh? You heard all that, then?”

“Yeaaah, the halls are—” she cupped her hands over her mouth, “—ECHOEY, Echoey, echoey...echoey….” Her voice grew fainter at each repetition. 

“Stop shouting in my study. You’ll attract the rats…”

“I like rats!” She ran back up to Astor, sitting on the other end of the bench. “They’re like dogs! But small!”

“They’re rodents. Think more possums and mice.”

“Like that old guy, right?” She played with a loose thread on her dress. “Last week you called him a gross...virgin? Vermin… Velvet…? I forgot the word—”

Astor suddenly scooped the young Zelda up under her arms, holding her out in front of him like she was a disease. “Don’t tell anyone I said that, alright? That’s our secret.”

“Put me doooooooown!!”

“No. Get out. I’m working.”

The princess struggled in his grip so much that by the time he reached the door with her, she was nearly upside down. He opened the door and she craned her neck up, pleading at him with an upside down frown.

“Pleeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaase let me stay??? Dad never bothers to look for me here….and your room is so cool! Even mom hung out here a lot…” Astor physically flinched, and Zelda took that as an opportunity to let loose some puppy eyes. “Pweaaaaaaase????”

Astor was so ready, so ready to shake her off his arm and let her possibly break a bone tumbling down the steps. “Oh! It was an accident, Your Majesty. She was so busy talking and talking and bouncing off the walls she forgot how stairs worked! I tried to stop her but she used her superglue prank again! Oh what a shame!” It would have been so easy…

Instead, the prophet just sighed, turned around, and let her topple onto the room’s floor. She yelled a “Yay!” before scuttling towards the windowsill, adorned with sparkly objects. Astor made his way to his desk, muttering.

“You can stay for five minutes. But don’t touch anything.”

Zelda immediately started touching and spinning the gyrospheres around in her hand.

The princess pranced and sat and played and pondered around the room—five minutes, ten, fifteen, and twenty. Finally she hobbled up to Astor, her arms full of shiny orbs and trinkets. She peered at his desk.

“So whatcha working on?” Zelda asked, looking at the weird sketches. “You seeing the future and stuff?”

“Something like that,” he replied stiffly. Silence resumed in the room.

Zelda set down her arm full of collectables, before standing on her toes to catch a better glimpse. “So what’s gonna happen? What’s gonna happen in the future?”

The prophet rolled his eyes, still trying to focus on his work. “Oh, you know. Death, doom, destruction. You’ll fail to awaken your powers, everyone perishes...the usual sort.”

Zelda crossed her arms and sat on the ground with a huff. “You don’t know that.”

“I do know that.”

“Oh yeah? Well if you can see the future, then WHAT am I gonna do next? Betcha can’t tell!”

“You’re going to attempt a backflip.”

“I’m going to do a b—” Zelda had jumped up, her arms already in the air, before she let them drop and sputtered angrily. “H-Hey! How’d you know that?!”

“Because that’s what you always do to try and disprove me.” He nodded towards the broken chair beside the door, along with a broken shelf, and a broken footstool.

“Hmph!”

“But that’s not how telling the future works anyways.”

“Oh yeah, well how am I supposed to know if you never TELL ME!” She suddenly scrambled into Astor’s lap, trying to steal his papers. 

“H-Hey! Get off you insolent—”

“Tell me what your jooooooob issssss you never doooooooooo anything despite having the coolest room…” Zelda palmed her face on his papers, refusing to move.” 

Astor was just about pulling his hair out, before taking a deep breath. “If I tell you, will you get off me?”

“Maaaybe.”

“Ugh. You’re insufferable…” Astor leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. 

“Well it’s like this. Every choice and possibility exists. Every universe and timeline with every outcome and conclusion you could imagine exists in the grand unknown. There’s a universe where you’re a boy, there’s a universe where you don’t exist, there’s a universe where you’re quiet and don’t bother me all the time—”

“Is there one where my mom’s alive?” Zelda leaned her head back and looked up at him.

He was silent for a moment, pondering his words. “...Yes. There is.” 

He finally raised an arm, gesturing to the decorated ceiling. “See now, predicting the future is all a matter of trying to identify exactly what kind of universe you’re in. You look to the stars—gifts from the spirits, who roam as a constant in all timelines. You look to dreams, and magic, and visions...your surroundings, the people...there’s a pattern and predictability that I can use to identify what universe we’re in, and how the future will play out.”

“So you think we’re in the one where the Calamity wins?” Zelda raised an eyebrow.

“From what I’ve seen, I’m almost certain. Yes.”

“That sucks.”

“It does...suck.”

Zelda jumped up and went back to playing with the gold and silver trinkets. “Why don’t we just go to a universe where we don’t lose?”

Astor turned back to his work. “Because that’s not possible.”

“Really? You sure?”

Astor stopped, pondering for just a moment, before shrugging and continuing to work. 

“Probably anyways. I imagine millions of people have tried before, millenia ago. And from the looks of things, nothing’s worked.”

Zelda fiddled with an Ancient Core. 

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 6

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV. There's non-explicit smut in this part!

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Remember that questionable morals remark? Yea, this chapter is the reason. Y/N, girl, you gotta stop... But at least it's kinda funny. Okay, it's pretty damn hilarious.

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings ! She is amazing. I larb her. 💙

"And then I was like 'No Way!' and he was like 'Totally' and that's how I met Tony Stark," I finished excitedly, opposite a laughing Mr. Davies. The story of how I met Iron Man was a total hit with the teacher and my vigorous mimicking of the facial expressions that described my feelings during the time had my teacher busting a gut something loud. 

"I honestly have some trouble believing that but - hey, what the hell, he's a billionaire superhero, it's basically expected for him to be a little strange," When his laughing fit was over, Mr. Davies reminded me he was, in fact, a psychology doctor. There was serious brain power under that easygoing attitude.

I expected detention to be bearable in his company but Mr. Davies rose above expectations, welcoming me with another cup of tea and some colouring pages. Admittedly, I contemplated stealing some - those mandalas were really captivating.

"Oh, he's strange alright, but nothing I can't handle," I twirled a pencil between my fingers. 

Mr. Davies grinned knowingly, too knowingly for my comfort, and I had no choice but to make a stone face before looking him in the eye. 

He smirked. "So, anything else interesting for you going on?" 

"Nah, not much. Really looking forward to being done with high school and going out into the bigger world, y'know."

"You turned 18 already, right?" I nodded in confirmation. "Maybe get a job, something part-time? OsCorp always hands these leaflets out, they're looking for lab assistants."

I wrinkled my nose. "I don't need a job. Plus, I'm sure Bruce-err, Doctor Banner would smash me if I went to work at OsCorp," I glossed over my slip-up, hoping Mr. Davies would do the same. But no such luck happened.

"Right. Me and Bruce, we actually go way back," He smiled, stirring his tea. I perked up in interest. "We studied psychology together, sat next to each other in half of our classes. It's a shame what happened to him but I hope he's happy now," Mr. Davies was smiling earnestly, looking out of the window where rain had started flowing down on the glass.

"Really? That's cool," I said, lacking anything else to add to his statement.

"He used to skip classes and always lost his glasses even though they'd be on top of his head," My teacher continued. "Banner was actually quite a rowdy student," He added with a smirk.

"Hah, he still routinely loses his glasses, although he wears them on a string around his neck now," I chuckled fondly. Bruce was such a dork.

I chatted with Mr. Davies some more, just casual conversation about everything and nothing in between. His parents were hippies, he had two moms and one dad and according to him, Thor was very overrated. I didn't even notice we were up in each other's space until our knees brushed when Mr. Davies - "Call me Will" - was showing me the pictures of his cats, dog and lizard. I figured that as the hippy child, personal space was kind of a foreign concept to him - and that rang true, I've seen Will give out more shoulder grabs and high fives than anyone else sans the gym teacher.

The clock's ding announced 6 PM and I quickly gathered my things, hastily saying goodbye. I was stopped though.

"If you don't mind a quick stop at my house, I can drop you off. It's pouring buckets outside and I would hate you to get sick," Will spoke casually. 

Technically, I knew he was bending some rules of conduct. But it was also 55° outside and the water coming from the sky was unlikely to be warm. So I caved without any guilty conscience, obediently following Mr. Davies -Will- to the parking lot where a new-ish Jeep Cherokee proudly stood amongst several older, less gently used cars. With New York city traffic being the way it is, I didn't text Bruce yet, fully expecting for the trip to take a whole hour if not more. 

Thankfully the parking gods were merciful and Will managed to find a spot right across his two-story townhouse. "You're welcome to come in if you feel comfortable, I just need to fetch some documents," He said.

And that's where I fucked up. I nodded affirmatively, I followed him through the door and made myself as comfortable as I could on his living room couch. It was a cozy home, his iguana chilled opposite me in it's terrarium and the little mutt that was his dog really reminded me of the atrocity that my parents used to own before they had me. It yipped and yapped, wagging it's bushy tail at me and demanding pets.

The steaming tea mug was dutifully placed in my hand by Will who hopped upstairs immediately after that, skipping steps. I watched the man with a benign stare: he'd removed his sweater and I could see the defined muscles of his back and the admirable backside that he possessed. There was no harm in looking respectfully, right?

I was halfway through my mug when Will came back down, brandishing a truly impressive stack of manila folders, setting it on a nearby table before sitting down on the other end of the couch, maintaining a respectful distance between us. We chatted some more and the more he spoke about his current research, the more passionate he became; by the end of his truly epic description of the effects that anti-depressants have on the learning process of depressed adolescents, I was mesmerized by the way his pink lips formed words.

Sitting with my calves tucked under my butt, leaning against the armrest , I was a goner. He caught my eye, diverting his own stare from my exposed legs to the side, blinking furiously. It calmed my spirits somewhat, knowing that I wasn't the only one affected by the sudden change of atmosphere in the room. My mug landed on the low table with a loud clang as I leaned forward, the sleeves of my sweater accidentally brushing against his leg.

Will cleared his throat and I startled, tilting my head up towards him in confusion. He was staring at me with a mix of fear and delight in his eyes, like a boy preparing for his first kiss. I would have laughed at the absurdity of the situation if the darkness in his stormy grey eyes didn't make my own breath do somersaults somewhere between my lungs and my esophagus.

Fifteen minutes later, both my sweater and my panties were thrown somewhere in the furthest end of the room and those thin lips were making me see stars. For some reason he was convinced I'd had only typical teenage disappointing sex up to this point and was really eager to show me what a grown man can do. I mean, I wasn't complaining, he was really, really good with his mouth - but I didn't have all night, so I flipped the tables and showed off my own oral skills until he had to bodily remove me from his dick and lift me onto it. Every movement felt surreal, like I was living in a dream. Despite my common sense yelling expletives at me, I kissed Will back with twice the heat and none of the finesse, each of us reaching the peak nearly in sync.

"Can I get that ride to the tower now?"

Will let out a decidedly unmanly squeak when he realised where exactly he'd be taking me after we did what we'd done. I smiled at him in hopes of calming down the man but it seemed it came out more predatory. He shivered, his dick twitching within me.

I texted Bruce the same time I was getting into Will's car. My brain was still somewhat in a state of shock and I used the brief moment to tidy up my hair and makeup, taking note of my sex-flushed face. I only hoped I didn't stink like man-sweat and Will's cologne. 

Another realization was startled out of me: that was my first time having had sex without a condom. I was on birth control since I was fourteen so pregnancy wasn't a scare; currently, I was more worried about the mildly uncomfortable, wet feeling in my panties where my teacher's cum had pooled out.

Yikes. That moment Will took a careful monitoring of my facial expression and it took me a lot to keep it somewhere between neutral and happy. Internally, I was freaking the fuck out, torn between horror and incredible arousal.

It morphed into full fledged mortification when I saw Bruce's lab coat from afar, the man standing next to the entrance door. Having had a dumb moment, I texted Banner that a former schoolmate of his was the one giving me a ride and it really shouldn't have been a surprise that Bruce would go downstairs to greet Will.

'Fuck you, you dumbass,' was my approximate train of thought, directed at myself, when all three of us gathered, hiding from the cold rain and the autumn wind under the safety of the roof. Both men shared a brief, warm embrace before Bruce's arm snaked around my waist.

"You go upstairs, okay? I don't want you to get sick," Banner said, eyeing the disastrous weather.

I looked at Will, finding his eyebrow cocked at Bruce's frivolous gesture and a faint flush blossoming on his face. The man shuffled awkwardly, giving me a small wave and a tight-lipped smile before turning his attention back to Bruce. I wished him good night, hastily retreating into the safety of the elevator.

"What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fu-u-uck..." I chanted under my breath, acutely aware of the blossoming bruises on my hips where my teacher held me, the dampness of my underwear. 

The elevator doors opened, revealing the common room couch being occupied by Wanda. Peter, Wanda's brother and the two resident super soldiers setting the table for dinner. Tony was off bickering with Loki and Strange by the coffee maker and Thor was standing outside on the patio, doing something very strange with his hands and his hammer. Was he summoning the shitty weather?! The audacity!

"Hey," Wanda greeted me quietly. Her eyebrows raised upon seeing my face full of perplexed confusion. "You okay?.. Wait, what? Tell me you did not!" As my internal crisis reached its peak, I remembered that a) Wanda is a telepath and b) There were other people in the room.

One ungraceful landing next to her later, I turned my bleary stare onto her. "Oops?" I offered in the way of explanation. What was I supposed to say if I didn't know for myself what the devil possessed me to fuck my social studies teacher after school? He was fucking hot, okay.

The witch smirked, obviously following my defensive internal monologue. "Oops?" Her tone was laced with gleeful sarcasm.

"I'm a human disaster," I groaned, finally caving in and palming my face. Wanda began snickering. "I have zero impulse control," I continued wallowing in self-pity. The redhead just cackled harder.

"I feel so attacked right now," Tony's voice loudly announced the man's presence. I was thankful for the distraction, happy that today, out of all the days, he decided to make the situation about himself. "I am the resident hot mess and nothing you do will change that. Or get out of my tower," He made a dramatic gesture, waving along everybody to the table.

At the dinner table, with Peter on one side of me and Bruce on the other, Wanda's speech was clear. "I think you two are about on the same level, Tony," Her tone was dry. The looks she cast me were cheeky at best and downright gleeful at worst. Not only was she the resident telepath but also, apparently, a huge drama fan.

I, on the other hand, felt like a fish thrown out of water. My mind was still jumping between astounded and horrified like a rabid rabbit and Bruce's excited remark about seeing a former schoolmate only worsened the anxiety. My brain was telling me EVERYBODY knew EVERYTHING whereas in reality, it was only Wanda and it didn't seem like she was upset enough to give up my dirty little secret. If anything, the witch seemed almost impressed. And that dry, mildly interested facial expression only solidified when she put two and two together: my teacher, whom I fucked, also known as Bruce's former study buddy.

"I have some spare sweatpants that might fit you," Wanda directly addressed me as we were finishing up the wonderful chicken roast courtesy of Clint and Bucky. Nobody batted an eye at the sudden exclamation, evidently used to being around someone who could hear their thoughts. 

I nodded, mentally waving a big, red thank you note. With sparkles. And hearts. Wanda chuckled.

"Hey, did you change your perfume?" Peter's innocent remark made me nearly freeze in my spot. 

Kill Bill sirens started playing in my head on repeat as I heard Wanda choke on her asparagus, inadvertently drawing attention to the three of us. Peter looked at us in confusion: Wanda kept on gasping, but it seemed like the dam had finally burst and she was laughing in earnest, snorting, loudly, as I engaged my willpower to stop myself from doing the same. Needless to say, it was a spectacular failure and now both of us were bent over our dinner plates, absolutely losing it - much to the concern of the adults present at the table. The rest of the team was growing concerned.

"Oh my god, your FACE!" Wanda's incoherent mumbling and the accusing finger pointed in my direction did it.

"A lady doesn't... kiss... and tell...." I fervently gulped the oxygen as I tried to articulate my thoughts into something comprehendible. The hysterical laughter won by a wide margin.

"Who's the lucky guy?" Natasha seemed to get the gist, relaxing immediately and picking up her fork to continue her meal. 

I shook my head, unable to form a coherent thought, much less a sentence. Bruce chuckled from somewhere beside me and just like that, the tension broke. The adults in the room traded knowing looks, chuckling and snorting amongst themselves. 

The moments I needed to calm down went to waste really quick: my first laughing fit over, I took one look at Wanda and yet again, both of us were puffing out our cheeks to try and prevent another hysterical fit. 

"Whew," I exaggerated, eyes wide and looking ANYWHERE but at Wanda.

"What a wild ride," She snorted and I put a palm over my face, shaking my head in... 

Disappointment at myself? I wasn't disappointed. Now that I got over the WTF factor, I found the situation to be pretty damn hot. Will was hot. Eh, whatever. 

My casual mood of zero-fucks-given began returning. After few of the last bites of potatoes, I was prepared to face  Natasha. I looked the Black Widow dead in the eye as I firmly stated: "And for the record? We are NOT having this conversation."

She elegantly arched her eyebrow whilst everybody else held their breath. "That bad, huh?" The retort was immediate.

I allowed myself to radiate a bit of that newly acquired smugness I had begun to feel: "You have no idea," I hoped my smirk was as devious as I wished it to be.

"Alright, heartbreaker, colour me impressed," Natasha nodded in affirmation. We shared another meaningful look and reverted back to our plates with the menfolk observing us akin animals at a zoo. 

Somewhat amazed, slightly afraid. Bruce's stare was somewhat concerned, too: he contemplatively eyed me from the corner of his eye, the same way I eyed him, checking out the fact that he appeared somewhat annoyed. Like a proper father would, I suppose. 

Luckily for me, I finished off the remaining food and drink quickly, with Wanda being my saviour once again as she all but bodily dragged me into the elevator, promising to return me to the science den in no more than an hour. Tony went to complain but was promptly stopped by Natasha inconspicuously reaching for the butter knife: the engineer knew how to pick his battles. I didn't doubt that Romanoff was going to hear "all about it" second-hand from Wanda and I was fully prepared to face the redhead spy's judgement. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, escaped that clever woman.

A quick shower and a change of clothes later, I sat on Wanda's couch, nervously fiddling with the two sizes too big sweatpants, occasionally stopping to straighten the plain white tank top that just barely fit me. I washed my hair but didn't  dry it before Wanda was impatiently telling me to hurry up: the mess sat atop my head held up by a single scrunchie.

"Okay... Where do I start?" She asked me, looking like the cat that ate the canary. 

"Don't start," I stopped her with a raised palm. "It was a casual, one-time thing and I've no interest in pursuing that shit on the reg," I answered honestly. The fact that he was my teacher simultaneously worsened the situation and made me elated. But ultimately, I didn't want to risk the trouble that would come along with this mess. Besides, I had no feelings for the guy whatsoever. As I've said previously, it was just bad impulse control on some teenage hormone steroids.

"You're a strange one," Wanda's penetrating gaze made me shiver. "You live without a care in the world but at the same time, your mind is always all over the place. It is interesting."

"Uh, thanks? I guess?"

"I think we should try being friends," The witch remarked after a brief moment of awkward silence. I stared at her, dumbfounded. "Because of my powers, I can literally see through people and predict what they will do before they even think about doing it. With you, it's not like that," She explained, her Slavic accent making a full guest appearance.

"So...you want to be friends because I'm a fucking mess?" I couldn't help but feel a little offended. The occasional shitty decision aside, I didn't think of myself as that bad.

"I want to be friends because I like you," Wanda fondly rolled her eyes, standing up from the couch and motioning for me to follow. "Now let's get you to Tony or he'll blow a gasket. He's already insufferable as he is."

@another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem

[ramble-writes]

So here comes another valentine's gift for the glorious @franks-mixtape ! If y'all remember the 2 Franks that are brothers and werewolves that I wrote some time ago, this is going from that again because I thought about it randomly and felt like I then needed more of it sooooooo yeah! If you DON’T know, the gist is being that his Frank and my Frank are half brothers. Father being a werewolf to both which resulted in his Frank being a halfling, while mine is whole werewolf due to different mothers. 19 years apart until both came to Ormond where they met up and figured out they’re brothers. So there ya go!

Warning(s): probs just standard cussing, buuuut that’s it lol

Don’t forget to like, reblog, and follow if ya wanna see more! (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

-

A Wednesday. Worst day for the 14th to fall on. Especially since it’s in the middle of the school week. Frank James Morrison sat there in the last class for the day, English. The teacher decided to focus on how Valentine’s day started from some dude who got executed in Rome or some shit. He wasn’t paying attention, finding it useless to learn about. Emerald green eyes lazily gazed around the room till they landed on his brother’s russet hair.

Frank Fenik Morrison was there a few seats to James’s left, amber eyes were trailing over the printed paper the teacher had passed out previously. As much as he was into literature, if he wanted to learn history on a subject of a man who was killed for trying to teach his religion to the Romans, he would’ve in his history class.

Fenik really was just idly taking his pencil to scribble a random design on a blank spot on the paper, the teacher’s voice seeming muffled in the background. Darkening some lines on the drawing, he felt a nudge in his mind, like someone nudging him with their arm. He lifted his eyes up and flickered to the side where gemstone eyes met and locked.

‘Dude. This shit is boring. Can’t we just.. skip out on this?”

‘I wish. But we can’t or shit’ll go down. Plus, they’ll know it’s us since we have the same exact name, minus the middle name.’

This made the raven-haired Frank sigh out loudly. He slightly scrunched his face up at hearing his other half chuckle both from a distance (thanks to his heightened hearing) and in his mind. Since figuring out the two had the same father, name, preference in tattoos, music, and other things, it made for the two getting along pretty easily. It resulted in a sort of bond to form. Since their father was a werewolf, it resulted in an animal like bond to form, that ran deeper than a standard sibling bond. Emotions, feelings, and thoughts were connected. It resulted in a mind link to have basically silent conversations.

‘Jesus fuckin Christ we have thirty minutes left of this bullshit. Feels like it’s taking foreverrrr!’

Fenik had to cover his mouth to stifle the laugh that bubbled up. Hearing him complain like a child made for lightening the boring mood. The internal complaining actually helped pass the time till the bell rang. Kids instantly got up with grabbing backpacks and shoulder bags alike and hurried for the door as the teacher called out that their homework from 2 days ago is due by Friday. Most likely, no one paid attention.

The two Morrisons waited at the bottom of the steps of Fairview, waiting on the other three of their odd pack in the snow. It didn’t take long for Julie, Susie, and Joey to come out. Julie adjusted her coat she has on as she hurried a bit down the stairs, being mindful of the snow-covered steps as she went over to the russet-haired Frank and planted her lips to his. This drew a very pleased growl from him as he kissed her back. Thankfully, those dreaded words to the holiday weren’t uttered.

“A’ight sluts! What’s the plan for today for shit to fuck up?” James asked, the name making Joey chuckle. “I’m lookin’ for chaos to burn down the grossness I feel from all this love shit.”

“I second that. There’s this jackass that’s been trying to feel Susie up in history when it comes to turning in work,” Julie huffed out. This made Joey look at the pinkett with concern on his face.

“And ya haven’t said anything?” Susie looked away at the tallest’s question which made him sigh. “Sus, ya gotta tell us when this kind of stuff happens..”

Her head only lowered before she pulled her hood up to hide her face. Joey had let out a sigh and draped an arm over her shoulders before looking at the other three. Amber, emerald, and brown eyes met and they all shared the same thought.

‘Trash the fucker’s place’

-

To cut things short, finding where the guy lives wasn’t hard. They did the standard: Egging the house, toilet paper thrown and draped over trees and parts of the house. But the brothers took it an extra step by managing to get up on the house with wadded up toilet paper, where they then shoved it down the chimney to block it up since smoke was coming out of it. And they were out as quickly as they came with a job well done. 

They all split to head to their homes, hearing distant sirens meaning the house called the fire department which was sweet music to them. Of course, the russet-haired teen snuck over to Julie’s place after her father passed out for their... usual time together. Raven, as another nickname to call James rather than by his middle name like Fenik, was laying there in bed till about midnight he heard his name being called through that mind link.

‘Thought you were busy bangin’ up Jules.’

‘Shut up and get your ass out here.’

‘Fiiine. But I still wanna hear about your adventures in the pussy caaaave!’

James snickered when he bet the other was rolling his eyes outside, but he got out of bed to get dressed in his usual letterman with an extra layer underneath since it is midnight and it’s still winter. Out the window he went and onto the ground below where his brother is standing and waiting.

“Alright, whatcha want butt sniffer?”

“Don’t. Anyway, thought it be nice to hang out since school has been riding out asses with work to get us “prepared for college” which I could care less for.”

The raven-haired teen nodded. “Yeah. It’s a lot of bullshit. Ffffuck I hate being a senior.”

“I feel that,” Fenik agreed with a nod of his head. As usual, the two headed into the forest since it is their escape, and the only way that the wolves within the both of them can be let out. It’s a nice reliever since a lot of the times going out was never an option and it would make them feel cramped.

Usually, they don’t speak when out in the forest unless they do their usual practice. But for now, it was nothing but a run. Fenik in full wolf with James keeping up at an easy stride. Surprisingly, there was no clouds which let for the moon to shine bright in the sky and reflect off the snow, practically lighting their path. 

They didn’t know how long they’ve been running, but they did come to a stopping point when the two Morrisons came across a big tree. It was there they stopped and flopped down at the base at the big roots, James leaning on Fenik and a hand running through the rust-colored fur in slow strokes.

“Ya know... I’m a bit jealous you can shift and I can’t..”

“Seriously? I dunno. I’d be pretty happy with just the heightened senses n shit.”

This made for emerald eyes to look at the wolf, which in return, amber looked back at the halfling. Concern was felt on both sides. Concern for how one felt left out of things, and concern for how the other didn’t care if shifting was a thing or not. James scooted himself a bit close to be able to wrap an arm around the back of the head of the large wolf and pressed his forehead to his, letting silence overtake the quiet between he two of them.

Something happened since one moment the raven-haired teen was small in comparison to the wolf with clothes on, to suddenly not and... the same size. It was like his body just relaxed for him to suddenly shift, but the realization got for the two to jump up onto their paws and look at each other.

James now was suddenly the same height, same build. Black fur made him look like a shadow o the white snow. Vibrant green eyes stood out like unknown lights in the darkest parts of the forest. The two were quiet, before sounds of excitement left them and they became nothing but giant mounds of fur and limbs with barks and yaps leaving them.

What felt like hours of nothing but romping around in the snow, they both flopped down panting with tongues hanging out of open mouths and tails swishing in the snow. Two sets of gemstone eyes gazed up at the night sky, the moon nothing but a white orb to the side of their vision.

“I hate valentine’s, but this? This is the greatest fuckin’ gift nature let me have haha!” James boofed out, letting his paws stretch out in front of him. It felt like all his limbs were sore from being contained, and finally was allowed to be out.

“Oh trust me. Being this way is heavenly. Feels like what freedom from the system should be. And now that you can shift, we can do this a hell of a lot more. And no one can stop the hell we’ll raise.” Fenik let out a chuff, a canine version of a chuckle. The black pelted one chuffed as well before rolling onto his side and laying close to the rusted pelt one and pressed close.

They were content like that, black mixing with rust, emerald and amber. It took only a nudge from Fenik to say that it’s best they get going. James got up and shook the snow from his fur, waiting for his brother to get up. Both standing, they trotted off to the edge of the forest where they shifted back to their human selves.

“This weekend. Can... we go running again? And... maybe teach me some wolf stuff since now I can shift?”

“Hell yeah man! I’ll be waiting��‘round seven. Sound good?”

James nodded with a slight smile before it fell. There was hesitation, but Fenik could feel it and brought his brother close for a hug. He melted into it and hugged the other back. They stood like that for some beats before breaking it off and headed to their homes with goodbyes through the link. Days and nights for now on were gonna be different, but they were gonna be hella enjoyable and that feeling of being left out vanished. Everything felt right, just as it should be. 

[ilovebeingcalledawhore]

FOUND YOU | MARK LEE

Summary: When she realises she’s catching feelings for her enemy, she tries to avoid him in every circumstance but then she’s told to host the incoming prom with him, she can’t say no to her teacher can she? Besides anything for better grades would be worth it—like giving Mark Lee a kiss.

Content: Fluff, Suggestive Content, Angst

Warning: I use British spelling

SERIES PART 1

PART 2

I’ve gone through a heartbreak, a phase in my life where I hated myself, night’s when I cried and days when I felt like giving up but I’m alright now and that’s what matters. Snapping off my darkening thoughts, I find myself in the middle of science class.

The sound of Ms. Park talking about human anatomy and the light ticking of the classroom clock were the only sounds I could hear. As my eyes scanned through the room, I found faces completely stuck onto their notebooks, jotting down as much information as they could. I heaved out a sigh realising that we had a test tomorrow. The class knew I wasn’t failing it even if I slept in class, the grades I got were enough to let teachers know that I didn’t need that ‘extra help’ they yapped about. 

I looked behind me, specifically at the black shiny clock and realised that we had 30 minutes left. “Damn it” I muttered a little too loud for my liking. Head’s turned towards my way and I wanted to sink into my chair and disappear. Uneasily turning my head to face the teacher—getting ready to get scolded, my eyes connected with students who immediately looked away but then one didn’t.

Mark Lee.

Our eyes locked—for I guess three seconds, our faces neutral, completely showing no emotion, I looked away with my signature scowl. “Miss Y/n, please wait for me outside” I scurried off with my grey bag. Time went slowly, my body rested on the white wall, eyes threatening to shut and hands rubbing on my arm, it was winter in a week's time. The open hallway was chilly.

The sound of the door opening snapped me back into my senses, unknowingly straightening myself, I was expecting Ms. Park to come out and give me a lecture of a lifetime, and she did come but she was not alone. The quiet boy from the back row who had jet black hair walked out, our eyes connected once more and the already-visible scowl on my face worsened.

“I’m letting you off with one condition” My brows perked up, more on bewilderment than anticipation. “The student who gets the higher score for tomorrow’s test won’t have to clean up our three science labs”, I turned my head to see Mark’s reaction but he was already looking out for mine.

“Alright” I agreed and Mark nodded in her direction.

________

The pencil twirled around my fingers, teeth sunken into my lips, brows furrowed and my nose scrunched up every now and then, I was definitely focused. I didn’t want to win because I didn’t want to clean the lab, in fact I wanted to because I learned and discovered new things——I wanted to win to see the little look of disappointment appear in his face.

Me and Mark Lee always had this quiet rivalry between us, we’ve never spoken, only sending tense looks at each other’s way occasionally. “5 minutes left” I stared at the last question wondering how I didn’t know it.

“Come on” I muttered, the bite on my lip only hardening. I re-read the question about ten times already, my brain was searching for the file, I knew it was there somewhere, I never got anything wrong. My eyes glanced to the side, to see Mark Lee, sitting in the corner, eyes trained outside the window, hand’s empty and test paper turned upside down. He was done but it didn’t mean he was right.

With a new sense of motivation, I stared at the paper and the answer flew across my mind. “There you go!” I squealed quietly, not enough to catch the attention of anybody in class, I did make eye-contact with Ms. Park and she saw the little excitement in my eyes meaning that I’ve got the answer.

I scribbled down on the paper, hands excitedly writing it down knowing all too well that I was going to ace this. “Fucking beat that Mark Lee” I muttered under my breath as I boxed my finally answer. “3 minutes left” the sound of groans and people speedily writing was all I could hear as I bent down, placing my head on the table, hoping for a short nap.

______

We were in the same hallway as last time, my hands were crossed over my chest, the worry of what might come next was all I could focus on. “I’ve gotten your scores” Ms. Park smirked then pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. The thick white paper on her hands held what I would feel for the rest of the week, though I was confident, there was still a chance of him one-upping me and I didn’t like the thought of that.

“Congratulations Y/n—“ she started and I smiled in relief, “—-you’re cleaning the science labs” then my world stopped. “What?” The words flew out of my mouth, it didn’t sound like a question at all, it sounded like a little girl who got her ice cream taken by her mother. “But how?” I felt my cheeks heat up, fire seemed to crawl up my throat, I didn’t want to lose. As I turned my head to the side, I saw the faint smirk resting on his lips and the glint of mischief in his eyes. “Whatever” I took the paper from Ms, Park’s hands and walked away. 

_______

The clear glass door in front of me felt like an entrance to a theme park, a theme park I’m cleaning for the next—2 hours. “Damn it” I pushed the knob down, then the door opened. I scanned through the room, it was pretty decent, not much dirt on the tables like usual. I walked around, the floor wasn’t piled with blood or remains of burnt magnesium, though there were dusts on some corners, it was an easy job.

As I reached the small brown cabinet in the back corner of the room, I opened it and pulled out a feather duster, a colourful one, I snorted at my ‘weapon’ of choice but then got back in character, posing like a kung fu master getting ready to attack my enemies then glaring at the dust centimetres away. “Hiii-yaaa!” I screamed as I aggressively wiped the dust off the black table in front of me.

“Looks like you're having fun” I stopped in my tracks, turning my head to the door. There he was—Mark Lee. “I was having fun but you ruined it” I scrunch my nose in annoyance. He smirked, his arms crossed over his chest, his body leaning on one side of the door frame. That was the first time we ever talked.

“Why are you here?” I twirled the feather duster on my hands, good luck to my asthma. “I wanted to see what you were up to”, I raised my brow, “and why is that?” He scanned the room, “you looked pretty pissed out there”

“That’s cause I was” I pointed my feather duster to him, “get out” I demanded. He didn’t move, not even a little. “Get out you—-“ I was cut off by an incoming sneeze. His brows furrowed wondering why I stopped and then it came. 

“Achoo!” He chuckled and I glared at him, my face partly red because of embarrassment and the allergy. He walked gracefully towards me, then pulling the duster off my grip. “I’ll clean it” he volunteered and I shook my head. “Go out and do something else”, “You have allergies Y/n, I’ll do it” I still shook my head.

“Come on!” He uttered, completely annoyed as I pulled the feather duster back, I wasn’t letting this guy do my work. “I’ll do it”, “no you won’t”, “it’s my job”, “you’ll get sick”,”I’ll be alright, just——“ I was cut off again but not by an incoming sneeze.

I was cut off when I realised that I was corned, in between his arms, his face just centimetres away from me, his hot breath hitting my lips. My grip on the feather duster loosened and I felt him pulling it off my hands. “I’ll clean it” he said firmly as he turned back and started at the other corner away from where I was standing frozen...like a statue.

-cut-

“What’s meant to be will always find a way”