#never mind he's screaming “red flag” at her the whole time

[nirikeehan]

will never get over how smitten she looks in this scene tho

[teatreeoilll]

w/c: 750 Part I - A drabble - headcanon thingy of our favorite king of red flags curses, set in a Heian-era village. i dunno anymore. | Part 2 here

Childhood!FriendSukuna who first met you as he stood at the brink of death.

"Mom, hey, mom." You tugged at her sleeve, directing her gaze at a frail boy, about seven or eight, on the verge of collapse behind the village market stall, "Can I give him an apple?" It's a bad month, she thought, glancing at the contents of her basket; this kindness might cost an empty stomach later on.

"No dear, he'll be fine." But you already ran off with an apple, your tiny legs making their way to the sickly boy.

"Here," you held the apple in front of his face, to which he narrowed his eyes, extending a scrawny arm to smack it away.

"I don't need your trash." He barked, his voice harsh as he gathered saliva in his mouth, spitting at your feet, “Peasant.”

As soon as your mother dragged you away, he picked up the apple, eating it whole.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who didn’t mind the insults the villagers threw at him while he was knee-deep in mud, plowing the fields for a cup of stale rice in the evenings.

"That brat is cursed," the whispers would grow amidst the village's council meetings, "If we stop feeding him, he'll leave."

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna, whose malnourished limbs betrayed him as he fell face first on the rice terrace with the hot sun still ablaze on his back.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who woke up almost a day later under an unknown ceiling, fever gnawing at his head under a wet cloth.

"Mom! Mom!" You shrieked from the corner of the room, "He's awake!" and a woman came in with a warm cup of tea, the taste of which lingered on his tongue as he drifted back to sleep.

"Let me die, brat." His hoarse voice was still weak when he came back to his senses as you placed a fresh, dampened cloth over his forehead.

"My name's not 'brat,'" you informed with a scoff, "It's (Name); what's yours?"

Too ashamed to admit he didn’t know the answer, he turned away and closed his eyes.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna, whose mouth hung agape when you pressed a chaste kiss on his forehead one night while muttering, 'mother told me that a kiss can heal any sickness'.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna, who disappeared as soon as he found the strength to walk again, returning to the fields only to find that the farmer's wife would no longer spare him dried-out rice when he finished a day's work.

"They should have let him die," he heard the farmer's wife proclaim through the thin walls of the cabin, "That self-righteous linen maker and her irritating daughter. That brat probably cursed them, too."

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who killed the farmer and his wife, unleashing a torrent of power he never knew resided within him; some kind of strange magic, he thought, wondering if the whispers of curses were more than the village gossip. The air hung heavy with the metallic tang of blood, and for the first time, he could breathe.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who disappeared after the crime, only to emerge a decade later, leaving a trail of chaos in his wake as he razed and burned each village in his path - laughing as he watched the terror-stricken villagers bow at his feet, crying and begging and dubbing him devil.

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who spared you as the village you once called home turned to ashes around you.

"I owe no debt to you now." He announced.

Tears pooled in your eyes, and a scream escaped your lips as you broke down on your knees before him, "I should have listened," you wailed, fingers clawing at the dry dirt beneath you, "They said you were cursed," you hurled a mass of dirt at him, hitting his chest, "They said the devil came to the village the day you were born."

ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who passed through the village again the next day, just to see you lying between the rubble, limbs sprawled on the dirt and ashes.

"I've extended you kindness." He said, covering the sun with his frame as he loomed over you, "Leave."

And you laughed, shaking and howling until the sides of your body started stinging, and the words came out as mere gasps; "And go where?"

"Wherever you wish."

"Home," You declared, locking eyes with his confused expression, "I want to go home."

You weren’t sure what sick thoughts ran through his mind when he leaned down to press a chaste kiss on your forehead, so you smiled, his face still a mere inch away from yours; "It's my fault." you confessed, "So, the next time we meet, I'll fix it, okay?" A deadpan expression took over as you added, "I'll kill you myself."

-

[prophetic-hijinks]

When the Walls Came Down

Set after the events of this “Visions” comic

_________________________________________

“Ten years?” Elena uttered in a whisper. Her delicate proclamation is barely audible against the chittering of insects in the surrounding jungle. Bruno’s confession shatters the excitement of their shared future, bringing back to the reality of the past.

The day was eventful, to say the least. So many secrets were revealed, all because Elena surprised Bruno with her new car, offering to drive him back instead of making him brave the bus. Bruno, excited for her to meet the whole family, forgot the small matter of his magical family and house. To her credit, she held her grit between Casita bringing her bag in on rumbling tiles and Camilo shifting in front of her. But ended with her passing out because Antonio’s leopard decided to play tag with his rats, leaving her soaking wet from Pepa’s anxious deluge.

But all of that was forgiven with Bruno’s vision of a future full of love, complete with two babies cast in an emerald tablet. Its faint glow lit their faces, as a waxing moon bathed the unlikely pair on the grassy knoll in moonlight.

That is until Bruno dropped a bombshell delivered in a half-hearted joke as if that could soften the blow.

“I couldn’t help but notice when they recounted the story of the Encanto, you weren’t in it for a fair bit.” Elena mused.

“Oh I was behind the scenes… so to speak”. Further prodding sent her mind screaming when he elaborated.

‘He lived in the WALLS!’ She reeled as the same trepidations that haunted Elena, made her doubt her ability to pick men. The 20/20 Hindsight that had her second guess every relationship AFTER they failed trickled in. Carlos who fell out of love with her for not giving him children, secretly hated her success. Or the string of crimson men who wanted the vixen on the stage. Who didn’t care who she was or what she wanted.

Hugo always said Elena’s rose-colored glasses made it impossible for her to see the red flags. And a man hiding in his family home's walls for a decade sounded like a HUGE RED FLAG.

Elena looked at Bruno as he nervously picked at the frayed edge of his ruana.

But the flag wasn’t red…It was green. Green like the eyes of the man that waited until the third date to even TRY for a kiss. A kiss he asked permission for.

And it was also an emerald green. Telling her that for once, her heart was safe. He wasn’t going to hurt her. She could be a hopeless romantic, with actual hope. Bruno wasn’t Carlos who would keep her trapped for over a decade in a bitter marriage before calling it off. He was respectful. Loving. Gentle.

“Ten years?”, she repeated Bruno flicked his eyes to her, so much fear and hurt. She softened even more. “How did you survive?.”

“Ah well, heh Y’know, casita would sneak me food. Juli always made so much in the morning before heading to the square. She barely noticed it went missing, especially with Camilo nabbing thirds and…” He was rambling now. Elena put a gentle hand on his arm, his nervous tremble calming under her touch. He gave a sheepish chuckle. Marveling how she had that effect without a single word.

“Heh, it was hard. But I had hobbies to pass the time, and my rats to keep me company.”

“But why the walls? If life was so unbearable? Why not leave the Encanto?”

Bruno looked at the looming mountain path she passed through earlier today. The one split down the middle in a strange formation Elena had never seen in nature before.

“The magic protected us from the outside world. But it also made it dangerous to leave. The mountain path didn’t even open until the magic was gone. Only the bravest ever tried the climb to trade out. And heh, that’s not me.” He shrugged. ‘Sides I had to stay. I had to protect Mirabel.”

“Mirabel?”

“Ma begged me to look to her future, to understand why Mirabel didn’t get a gift.”

Bruno grabbed the tablet between them.

“I saw in the vision Mirabel as a teenager. Her future wasn’t fixed like ours, I saw Casita standing”. He said tilting the tablet to the left “And casita falling”. Tilting it right.

“I couldn’t bring that back to Ma. I Couldn’t saddle Mirabel with that burden. She was a baby, already denied her room, her dream, and what? Tìo Bruno was going to deliver a nightmare?” An anxious tremor entered his voice “No, no, no I thought if I just waited. Patched up the cracks, I could stop it from happening.”

‘He spent a decade alone to protect her. To be near his family.’ Elena recalled the sweet young woman she met today, earnest, loving, and without a hint of teenage angst. Who showed unbridled enthusiasm for Tio’s girlfriend. Another wall came down.

Bruno vaguely gestured backward to Casita.

“Heh, but a fat lot of good that I did. It still fell.”

“...But didn’t everything get better after it fell?.”

Bruno floundered, “Well… yeah! But I assumed we just got, I dunno, Lucky?”

“Sounds like Mirabel’s destiny was to tear it down,” Elena said.

“You think Mirabel was supposed to have Casita fall?” He sputtered incredulously.

Elena held up the tablet with the image of their twins and their proud happy faces. “You said this future was fixed?”

“Yes,” He said, reassuringly. She had already asked before if that future was destined to be hers. “This future was ours from the beginning.”

“Well Bruno, unless you had plans to take up mountain climbing, how do you propose you would have ever met me if Casita didn’t fall? Because I don’t see me traversing a jungle in kitten heels.”

“…”

For a moment, it seemed even the jungle quieted for the answer. “I..you…”. Bruno needed time to process the matter.

“Casita was always meant to fall. So I would be forced back to the family. So Ma could grieve at the river. So the villagers could help us and learn to depend on themselves. So Mirabel could heal the family and rebuild Casita better…” Bruno continued, looking at Elena and squeezing her offered hand on his lap.

“So I could give a shy little wave to a singer at the Chia Lounge?”. Elena smiled and leaned into him.

“Heh… Everything was meant to be this way?”

“It seems so, but I’m not sure if hiding for ten years was the most stellar problem-solving,” Elena said jokingly. Bruno flushed, embarrassed. Covering his face with his hands.

“But! But!” Elena quickly blurted panicked at the hurt she caused. Wrapping her right arm around his she gently pushed her left hand under his hand on his cheek. Then gently guiding his face to hers.

“But, I do know this. You said only the brave ever tried to leave. But you WERE brave in staying. To try to protect Mirabel.” She gently ran her thumb against his cheek.

“And I know most men; no matter how brave or stoic, would have broken into a million pieces being alone for so long. They would have become bitter and angry; or broken beyond repair.”

“The fact you escaped all that while remaining kind. Still so sweet and loving, is a testament to how strong you are.” Elena kissed his cheek, she could taste salt from a fallen tear. “Strong in the only way that matters to me.”

Bruno gave a relieved shudder, breath mingling with hers they were so close. “Heh, you aren’t ready to hop into your car and run from all this?”

“Not a chance.” Elena tilted the tablet between them. “I know for a fact we get through this. So let's get through this.”

She cuddled deep into him, her body fitting perfectly next to a body that never felt he fit in anywhere else. “Bruno I want all of you, scars and all.”

Bruno looked down at her in grateful awe. They were both crying gentle, cathartic tears.

“Besides, you’re not the only one with baggage.”

“Heh, Fucking Carlos?” He asked.

“Fucking Carlos” she concurred.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62109775

[itjazzbicch]

Storms

Pairing:  Shanks x CrewMember!Fem Reader

First time writing for Shanks so I hope I did well! 

Summary: Once in a deep depression, the reader wasn't sure what path to take in life, not till she reunited with her friend Shanks, learning how much she loves the sea, and experiencing all kinds of storms with Shanks...

Warnings:  SMUT! (18+ ONLY! MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!)  (Drunk sex, pet names (baby doll), unprotected sex) (Flashback in the text is italicized!)

Word Count: 1.3k 

“WOOOO BRING IT ON! I CAN HANDLE ANYTHING YOU THROW AT ME!”

All my crew mates thought I wasn’t taking them seriously while we were drinking, a horrible storm passing us.

They were all inside, daring me to go out into the storm. I was already the daring type, let alone while drunk.

So, I went right up there, soaked from the rain, the strong, howling wind creating a sting as the rain hit my face.

But I was all smiles, just screaming and howling out of joy. Thinking back on how I made it here.

————-

Both of my parents passed away. They left me their business, but it was falling under because I wasn’t cut out to be a business owner.

Depressed and hopeless, I decided to go out for a drink when I ran into an old friend, Shanks.

He and his crew had the whole bar rowdy, full of laughs and after getting to sit and catch up with Shanks, an idea popped into my mind.

“Shanks, you should let me join your crew.”

“Join my crew?!” He couldn’t believe those words came out of my mouth, “You? Y/N? A pirate?!”

“You know what I’m going through,” I sighed, dead serious as I looked into his eyes and explained, “I just need something. Something fun, something new, and I think I can find that out on the ocean with you.”

“You sure about this?” He wanted to make sure that I wasn’t thinking impulsively.

“I know. I feel it in my heart and soul,” I smiled, offering him a toast with the drink in my hand, “It’s going to be one hell of a ride, but I’m ready for it.”

With a smile and a toast, it was official.

———-

“COME ON! THIS AIN’T NOTHING!”

Hanging onto the post that held our flag, I felt as free as a bird, felt like I could take on the whole world, looking down as I heard from the door:

"GET DOWN FROM THERE YOU, NUTBALL! THIS STORM IS BAD!"

Shanks calling for me only made me laugh, yelling back:

"DON'T YELL AT ME IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE IT! HAHA!"

He took my words like a challenge and sure enough, he was making his way over to me, and I encouraged him:

"A little storm like this can't take the two of us down!"

"Yeah! But with how long you've been out here, it'll get you sick!" He joined my side, trying to usher me down, but I insisted:

"Yeah right! For as long as we've been out on the sea, I don't think anything can give me the sniffles, let alone be sick!"

"Alright, drunky," He laughed with hiccups, finally getting me down and heading toward the door, "Let's get inside."

"Hey, who ya callin' drunky when you're just as drunk as me?!" I spat, both of us staying silent for a moment, then exploding with laughter.

"Okay, okay! Ya got me on that one, Y/N!"

We were such goofballs sometimes, wobbling and laughing so much I about fell over, but walked into my room with Shanks still following, tossing off my drenched clothes:

"Man, I'm soaked," Finding a towel, I began to dry my hair a little, swaying, and in the corner of my eye, Shanks was watching my nude body, cheeks red and his lip caught between his teeth, so I teased, "What's the matter? Never seen a woman naked before?"

Chuckling a little first, I noticed how he clenched his fist slowly, cooing, "Not one as beautiful as you."

His tone was so sweet and it put a bright smile on my face, neither of us bothering to fight temptations as he made his way to me, stroking my cheek and smiling along with me:

"Haven't seen you smile like that in a long time."

Leaning a bit, I kissed the palm of his hand:

"All thanks to you, Shanks."

There was a tingle between my thighs when he took my hip, bringing us chest to chest:

"And oh my, you're so cold."

His hand was beaming with heat as it traced my skin, down my hip and around to my ass, squeezing, our noses meeting, smirking as our lips got closer and closer:

"Let's warm you up, huh?"

The tingle I was feeling started flowing from head to toe, not able to breathe while our lips clashed, my mind racing so quickly that my body acted first:

"You know that rain got you too. How about we get rid of these?"

My hands were already getting rid of his clothes and he helped, taking the time to admire his body, from head to toe, licking my lip at the sight of his cock, only meeting his gaze when I heard him mocking me:

"What's the matter? Never seen a man naked before?"

We both got a giggle out of that, but kept the mood and tempo with our bodies magnetizing toward each other:

"Just haven't seen one that I want as bad as I want you."

Hooking his arm around me, we landed on the bed with a plop, lips not daring to part, throwing my legs apart over him as he sat against the bedframe, chuckling:

"Aww, you want me?"

"All of you, Captain," My tongue swirled against his, humming at the pleasure I got just from rubbing myself against his cock once, his hand lifting me some and swirling his tongue back:

"Take me then," Carefully, he sat me back down on his cock, his girth a lot more than I anticipated, biting my lip and swearing under my breath, following the rhythm of his hand rocking my hip little by little, pushing me down a little further, "You can take all of it, baby doll."

"Y-You're," I swallowed down, my legs already shaking from adjusting, "A lot."

"Here, I'll help," Flipping to the side, leg latched over top of his when he pushed into me, it felt so sweet, just right, and he noticed quickly, "That better?"

"Oh yeah, that's it," Reaching up and wrapping my arm around his head, I was ready for so much more, "Go faster?"

Just a single swoosh of his hips made my hand take a grip of those red locks, the storm still going outside could barely drown out the dirty, salacious moans that came out of me, Shanks not slowing for a second:

"That fast enough for you?"

"Uh-huh!" I pulled his head down to me for a kiss, but between getting railed, his hand rubbing all over any sensitive part of me that he could reach, it grew sloppy, breaking with a filthy smack, "Don't stop!"

The muscles clear up my chest felt like they were squeezing him and refusing to let go, keeping him balls deep. There was already a swirl in my head from drinking earlier, but this couldn't compare, my mind spiraling off, the spin winding faster the closer my body started to give way.

"When it's this good and tight? I'm not gonna," He chuckled, leaning and putting a little more weight on me, the pressure making my heart pound violently, toes curling, shaking with my plea:

"Please don't, Shanks! Please, please, please!"

"I can go all night, baby," The vibration in his chest made me start shaking, steaming hot, and panting like an animal, a crack of thunder making me jump and fall back down onto his cock, his hips still bucking at me, my stomach got hit with such a strong impact, all the built-up heat zoning down into one spot, gushing all over his cock, thighs, and the bed.

"Oh my god," I was barely breathing, head falling back into him, limp, sweat dripping down my forehead, a smile blossoming like a flower in the spring at the sound of his raspy voice:

"Crazier than that storm, huh?"

"And so much better," I sighed with a giggle, turning into a soft cry when he pulled out, missing his fullness already.

We were just a mess, pulling me along with him as he fell to his back, still managing to unload on me, turned on by the sight as he wanted, kissing my ear:

"You and I are gonna have to create some more storms soon." 

2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome

[moonlightknightess]

Heartbroken!Sasha is finally here!

It really came out longer than I expected 💀 and I can only blame my indecisive ass for it 😭 As I mentioned before, this is just the first part of a two-shot fic (initially 3 parts long but sticking to two now), mostly introduction + a small taste I have in store for part 2 👀 Hope you enjoy!

.

.

.

- 2 years! - Her throat hurts with soreness, her eyes stung with sadness, her nose leaking snot until Mikasa handed her a tissue - I spent the last 2 years of my life trying to build a future for him! For us! And this is how he repaid me!? By fucking some whore on my damn bed!? -

It was already bad enough how Niccolo neglected her months before her discovery, the once sweet guy who used to wake her up with breakfast in bed was now a coldhearted douche that only acknowledged her existence when he needed something from her

She should have trusted her gut right when it started to show her all the weird signs, several red flags manifested in the form of late-night homecomings and new passwords for personal social media accounts and phones of his she used to be able to check freely, ignored for the sake of their already crippled relationship, wishing it was all in her mind and that it was just a matter of time before they went back to the normalcy they used to love so much

– I’m so sorry, Sasha - Her soothing hand rubbing on her back alleviates the ache in her heart at least a little. - I… don’t know what to think… I would have never expected him to pull out something like on you - 

She can’t blame her for that, she herself doesn’t know what to make out of this fiasco either, she was supposed to come back home early after an uneventful day at work and chill out the rest of the night alongside him. She only found out about this because of mere luck and no more.

It must have been crazy from her point of view, being called by her best friend and only hearing her erratic voice on the other end, begging her to come and pick her up as she shouted and screamed at several unknown individuals

By the time she arrived at her rescue along with his boyfriend Eren in his car, the shit show was already on its grand finale. with a Niccolo barely clothed holding her from running away, begging her to “talk things out” and a red-faced Sasha fighting tooth and nail to get away from him, berating his whole existence as she did so, his mistress hiding in the apartment several floors up from the reception where they were

It took Eren threatening him to beat the shit out of him to let her go for once. hurrying quickly to his car and parting away from a chapter of her life she wished it ended in a more positive note.

- It doesn’t matter - Sasha says, voice watery as she cleans her nose with yet another tissue, tossing it on the carpet of the car, stocking-pilling them on the floor - I couldn’t care less about him, or his stupid whore side chick! - her nostrils flared with anger as she got worked up, her hand holding a fist so tightly she could see her knuckles turning white - In fact, I couldn’t care less about men in general! They ain’t shit! On god! - … - No offense, Eren -

- None taken - He answered, making a left turn as he drove them home - Look, I know a couple of ways to kill somebody and get away with it, so if you-

She lets a small chuckle at his joke, Mikasa playfully chastising him for putting weird ideas in her mind

She lets her head rest on Mikasa, placing herself on the crock of her shoulder and her neck as she lets her keep rubbing soothing circles on her back, her own hand sneaking its way to hers and lacing them together, her breath calming when it meets the sweet scent of Mikasa’s perfume

Still, that doesn’t stop her eyes from breaking loose like a waterfall, her nose once again ugly-snotting and her facade finally crumbling as she feels Mikasa’s hand unknotting her ponytail, a sense of relief cursing through her scalp as she feels her hair free from its hold

- I loved him - She can’t help the tears staining Mikasa’s porcelain white skin, the hold on her hand growing harder and Mikasa holding back just as hard - I saw myself getting married to him in the future, having his kids in the future, and yet-

- Everything is going to be okay - Mikasa is firm in her words and yet soft to the touch, the hand that petted her hair now lifting her by the chin and holding her face up, her thumb erasing the trace of tears tarnishing her cheek and she makes her stare straight in the eyes - You are an amazing girl, Sasha. One with a love to share, and one that deserves even more - Mikasa rests her forehead against hers as she whispers to her heart, making it flutter with every word - Don’t let anyone make you believe otherwise - 

She can’t help the smile that starts to form in the corner of her lips, her hands quickly trying to erase any hint of tears from her face as she feels renovated with sheer motivation

- You are right - She thanked her truthfully, getting lost in the void of her onyx eyes if only for a little - I’m so sorry you have to bear with me like this… I must have looked pathetic - 

- You are not pathetic - Mikasa ensures - Why would you say that? -

- You know why - Sasha responds back - I mean, when compared to you, all this circus must have looked like a child's game to you… Like, here I am, losing my mind over my now ex-boyfriend fucking some skank, meanwhile, you two have an open relationship, and you don’t get bothered about each other seeing different people! Seriously, how!?  -

She sometimes can’t believe that up to this day, these two have had this kind of arrangement for a while now, almost as long as her relationship with Niccolo lasted

Especially when in the first years she knew they have been dating, they seemed to have a clear case of jealousy for each other, arguing every other week

Straight out of a rom-com, if she must say.

 - This and that are different, Sasha - She hears Eren respond after a short silence, meeting his gaze through the rear mirror, alternating between looking at her and looking at the road as he did so - Just because we are fine with each other having partners of the side, it doesn’t mean we are free to do as we please… Just like in monogamy, we got rules, it just happens that having other partners does not break any rule -

- I know that! - She says with mocking offense, she was well aware of how open relationships worked, she just wanted to make a comparison between her dilemma and their daily occurrence - But now that you mention it, what are your rules anyway? Like, the ones that dictate your other partners - She is genuinely curious about it

- There aren’t too many to be fair - He chuckles a little - Actually, It all boils down to letting the other one know who they are going out with and either approve it or not.. that and not letting ourselves get too emotionally attached with said partners - 

It was simple enough, and yet it doesn’t really answer this particular question that has been plaguing her mind, one that just started to form the moment she officially got things done with Niccolo

- Huh? Thats all? - She turns her head in Mikasa’s direction, her face betraying no emotion as she just nods her head - What about… you know, close friends? Like, are they off limits or…? -

A pregnant silence forms the moment she blurted out those words, the air inside the car growing hotter as Sasha regrets little by little her words 

- It depends - Erens responds, breaking the awkward quietness - We don’t really make a point of chasing anyone we both know so it doesn’t make things weird between us, but there can be exceptions -

- Oh god - Sasha gets taken aback, her mouth parted as she still processes those words - Does that mean you already did it with someone I know!? -

- Who knows!? - He makes a point of looking at her yet again through the rear mirror - Maybe you do, maybe you don’t! In fact, what makes you believe that it’s just me alone that did it? - 

- So it was Mikasa!? -

- Again, who knows!? -

- You gotta tell me! - 

- Nu-uh -

- Come on! You can’t just tell me something happened and then not tell me what happened - 

- If you want to know so bad go as Mikasa then! -

As if on cue, the moment she turns in Mikasa’s direction she is already looking out into the window as if the dark fields of nothingness were pretty interesting to see

- Mikas-

- No -

- But whyyyyyy? - She is already pouting at this point

- Because you were not supposed to find out… no one, actually - She said as a matter of a fact - But some people can’t keep a secret even if their lives depended on it -

Eren just laughs harder at her stab

- I know how to keep a secret! - She begs - Gimme at least a hint so I can connect the dots! Anything! But please let me knoooow! -

Mikasa let out a sigh as she seems to reconsider her words, still staring out the window as she says - We had a threeway with Armin -

- Oh. My. God! - She screams way too loud, managing to startle Eren of the road for a little before he composes the car - Way to go, girl! - She gets her hand up as if waiting for a hi-five, accomplish it once Mikasa raises her own, a pink shade of blush and a small smile adorning her face as she did so - I didn’t know you were into guys tho, Eren! -

- I am not - He clarifies - I didn’t do anything with Armin, it was all about Mikasa, it was her birthday after all -

- Oww how sweet! - She can’t help but pinch his cheeks - You two are just making me jealous now! -

- Hey stop that! You are gonna get us off the road! - 

- Alright alright! But for real though… It amazes me how unbothered you seem to be about all of this…- 

- It's just a matter of getting used to it… Besides Armin is my best friend too so it wasn’t that hard to deal with - 

- Yeah but still, it’s crazy… Do you really don’t mind people getting frisky with your girlfriend? -

- As long as I agree with it, then it's fine - 

- … What about me though? -

- Huh? - Both of them answered, as if they meant to coordinate like that 

- Like… - She can’t help herself, her mind racing 200 mph as she once again laces her fingers in Mikasa’s and rests her head above her chest, her mouth tickling her skin as she speaks - If I were to want to make out with Mikasa for being such a good friend and comforting me in my time of need, would you allow it? Would I… have your permission to do it? -

She can barely make sense of her behavior, let alone understand it. It’s not like she is intoxicated with any substance or she is suddenly having a mental breakdown regarding the current events so she has something to blame it on.

But if she had to guess, it would be the need to have something else to occupy her mind, to try to remove today's bad memories and replace them with better ones.

– … That would be hot, not gonna lie - He admits - still, it’s not me you should be asking permission for… yet -

She raises up from her safe hideout in Mikasa’s body, almond locking on black pearl as she takes in the sight of a surprised Mikasa, mouth gaped and the subtle shade of pink growing redder.

– … I … I don't know what to say, Sasha, I -

– A “yes” is good enough for me -

– Sasha! -

– Alright alright! - She holds her hands up in defeat - Look, I'm sorry for blindsiding you like this, not cool on my part I’ll admit… - She is genuinely apologetic, - I… I just need someone to make forget about this mess, if I am being honest with you - She lowers her face down in shame as she confesses her intentions - if you don’t feel like it that would be fine by me, it was worth the shot after all -

Her heart pounds against her ribcage as Mikasa gazes at her with uncertainty, a doubtful expression that flicks between Eren and her every so often, a silent understanding that she is yet to accomplish with a loved one.

Seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours, her throat eager to call this off and to forget about it, her eyes locking on her sneakers and her fingers playing with each other until she felt the ever so calming hold of Mikasa’s on them, palm securing her fidgetiness as her sights get devoured by the darkness.

It takes her a couple of seconds to notice the warmness enveloping her whole, her mouth meeting the delicious flavor of mint that makes her dizzy in desire, the sudden weight of her body pilling on her little by little, threatening to make her lose balance until a particularly sharp turn made by the car throws her down, her back on the entirety of the back seat as Mikasa hoovers from above, hands floored against the cushion on either side of her head

- …If that's what you really want - Her breath is labored and erratic, her tongue swiftly licking off the remnants of her and her wrist smudging her black lipstick as she tries to get any trace left, teeth shining pretty bright making her lose any sense of control - Then so be it -

Mikasa proves to be too much to deal with the moment her hands start scouting through her body. Frisky fingers held onto her scorching hot skin as she caressed her ever-so-delightfully, her silk-like touch making her squirm on the cotton of her shirt as the wetness of her tongue took a toll on her neck, fleeting kisses meeting the crook of her shoulder and making her hold to dear life.

It takes her no effort to completely discard her plain pink blouse, her chest’s only layer of protection the lame white sports bra she wore from the gym and couldn’t bother to change out out of the bad timing of the recent events, her eyes locking on her chest with such adoration it makes her pass out on the spot.

- So beautiful… - Mikasa whispers to herself, hand shamelessly sneaking underneath the suffocating cloth around her chest, palm holding her firmly and so tenderly it embarrasses her how it manages to coax a small moan out of her - It just makes more mad to see how wasted you were on that asshole - 

She could have never be able to stop her even if she tried, the quick dive in she made on her chest taking her out of guard and her brazen kisses coating her whole: Chest, nipples, underboob and everything in between. Her hold on her head and her cries of her name not enough to deter her from coating her in black lipstick kissmarks

- God - Sasha whispers this time, a switch inside her turned on now that she gets to see the gorgeous mess that Mikasa made out of her, to see the kind of desire and devotion she longed for anyone to have for her, to drown herself in her sweet delusions that somehow became her new reality

She barely notices the vehicle coming to a halt as Mikasa devours her whole yet again, knee expertly placed between her legs where she is getting hot and bothered, hands threatening to make her tight shorts come loose, and hungry kisses robbing the air out of her until she feels like passing out, tongues dancing the more their liplock skillfully lasted until-

- We arrived - Eren says from outside the window, opening the door above their heads, the coolness in the air washing over her as a bucket of water, the both of them caught like a pair of deers in headlights as he takes his sweet time admiring the view he deems it enough, walking to back to the car instead

Mikasa is the first one to get composed, effortlessly getting out of the vehicle, leaving her alone with her thoughts, letting her process what just happened and what she should do next, pondering what could be her best course of action until the harsh sound of the cars vault closing finally snaps her out of it.

Her eyes tried to adjust to the sudden light of the lamps lighting up to their arrival, the both of them exchanging thoughts and not courteous enough to let her join their conversation, barely getting a glimpse of their conversation that she wasn’t trying to eavesdrop at all… 

Seriously, she was not!

It isn’t until she sits properly and pays more attention to her surroundings that she notices that she isn’t in her parent's place yet, the parking place of the apartment complex where they were not looking close at all to the one she used to park her father’s car, back when she used to live with him before moving to Niccolo’s place…

- This isn’t my pop's place, though… - She cringes a little as she speaks, because it feels like a pathetic attempt at deflecting, trying to ignore the giant elephant in the room, but still, she gotta get her answers 

- I can tell -  Eren answers back, a small smile directed at her as Mikasa berates him with a slap on the chest

If it weren’t because he was her best friend’s boyfriend she would kick where it would hurt him the most for mocking her like that…

- I assumed you were gonna stay with us - He says as he throws one of her backpacks over his shoulder, her large suitcase in one of his hands as the other one hands her the small purse she had with her - It didn’t look like you were done back there, to be fair - 

…

Ok, at least it was not awkward anymore

But still

He could use a thing or two about subtleness

He hurries himself into Mikasa for a tight half-hug before she can get too mad to him, making her best performance of trying to talk sense into him until he is basically showering her in pecks and half-hearted apologies, pecking him on the mouth with very same lips that coated her whole

It’s only when he manages to tame her into her lovey-dovey soft self that he returns back to her, offering a helping hand out of courtesy, bringing her out of the car so he can lock it 

- … You are unbelievable sometimes, Yeager - She allows him to keep her hand in his hold, a reassuring grip that she doesn’t mind at all 

- What can I say, I’m really eager to see you two go at it - 

It honestly takes her by surprise the way he gets close to her little by little, her body trapped between his and his car, their height gap in it’s full glory the moment she has to raise her head to meet his eyes, his frame getting dangerously close to her and his sturdy frame shadowing her whole, her mind yet again racing 100 miles per hour as she tries to find out what was going on, her face yet again taking a pinkish shade the more he studies her with his gaze, his unbothered expression turning into a mocking smile the more he realizes just how much of a hold he has on her, his hand sneakily guiding hers until-

- Jesus christ! - 

She can’t help the small scream and the high-pitched gasp that she lets out when she gets to see the sudden source of warmth and hardness that meets her hand, palm mindlessly feeling up the very noticeable outline of his length that tries to bulge its way out of his pants, his hand holding hers making her aware of the culprit of her current position

- Can you feel it? - She does, she does feel its heavy weight in the palm of her hand and the way it twitches whenever she applies the smallest of pressures on it, and she can’t help but reminisce about that time she was desperate to prove that the reason Eren refused to tell how big he was in that truth or dare game they played a couple of years ago was because he was insecure about his size, and that Mikasa only reason to stick to “it’s big” as her only response was because she was being a supportive girlfriend 

- It’s been like this since you teased me when you two had your fun - He makes her feel him up and down shamelessly, her hand hesitating between shying away or following his guidance, holding onto him on a tight grab that she swears it makes his breath hitch, if only a little, - Hell, I was hoping to have a turn if i am honest -

She is speechless, her mouth on a surprised “o” that she shuts as soon as she hears him snickering right in front of her, his confession making her feel a small pinch of guilt

She did this to him, whether she meant it or not, right? So it’s only fair she makes it up to him

Right?

…

It probably didn't work like that

Scratch that, it doesn’t work like that

But then again…

It’s not like she is opposed to the idea.

It would have been easier to go along with it if he wasn’t so weird about it, though

Seriously, she still can’t believe this is the guy Mikasa chose.

For real.

She lets out a sigh of relief as she makes up her mind, eyes locking onto him as she makes a point of keeping her hand right where he placed it, making sure he can feel her sharp nails digging through the fabric of his tight jeans, trying to encircle his whole girth in her palm, even if she failed to do so

She stands up on her tip-toes despite how caged she feels, blood rushing through her veins and a sense of giddy warmness swallowing her whole.

- Give me your worst, Yeager -

It’s ok

Everything it’s going to be ok…

.

.

.

She can’t help but wet the soft pillow as she bites it, teeth chewing so hard on the silk-like cloth it starts to hurt her jaw

Still, there is so much she can do to prevent them from driving her insane, her legs closing on Mikasa’s head not enough to deter him from making out with her lower lips

In fact, it has quite the opposite effect on the both of them, the telltale of Eren’s teeth pinching on her glutes and his hands forcing her knees apart letting her know he wasn’t a big fan of what she tried to pull off

- Do you mind? - He doesn’t bother stopping licking as he speaks, his voice muffled beyond recognition, tongue lapping at her rear mindlessly and yet so delightfully it makes her want to scream, to claw her nails on his skin and tear it open so she can’t escape from this sweet torture.

She can barely tell how long it’s been since she has found herself like this: topless, tossing and turning on their king-sized bed, her chest glued to the mattress, her hips raised in the air and with their leeching asses sucking the life out of her from below, kissing and tonguing her folds and rear alike as if it was their mission of life, slurping the very essence of her the same way a starved man lost in a desert would

And maybe, maybe that’s the reason why she can’t keep up anymore, because her wobbly knees are threatening to give up on her at any moment, her insides burning with a passion only found in the very flames of hell, her body a sweaty mess that already soddened the mattress below her, her lungs barely getting enough air by how hyperventilated she was

- …Mika!… - She cries, hand reaching behind her despite the discomfort of bending her back, barely grabbing the mess of hair in his head, trying to push him away -Please! I am-

Her pleas fall on deaf ears it seems, Mikasa’s response coming in the form of cheeky kisses on her moistness, her delicate thumbs spreading her folds open before she spits on it in such a vulgar way it has her rethinking if this was the same girl that managed to convey a million emotions in just one kiss

- What now? Quitting already? - He grabs her by the very same hand that tried to push him away, forcing it on the small of her back as he literally eats her ass whole, lips kissing her ring carelessly and yet exciting so many moans out of her as he does so

- I can’t anymore! - She can barely make sense of what she tries to say, being double timed like this was new to her, and she honestly believes it is way more than what she bargained for, the toe-curling combination of their mouths wreaking havoc on her bottom making her see starts through her eyelids

- Not good - The spank she receives is uncalled for, an open-palmed hit on her ass that has her screaming at the top of her lungs, her entire bottom half locking taut as if expecting more, the slurping sounds of Mikasa filling the room and making her realize a single spank was enough to make her come - This won’t do -

She can’t bother to make sense of what was going on, her mind barely registering his words and instead focusing on trying to handle the overload of sensations and the overstimulation they forced on her, enduring as much of their abuse as she could before she is crying for mercy, fighting for a battle that she already lost

Because she would be deluding herself if she said that she wasn’t enjoying this, being the sole focus of their attention, worshiped as a divine being that flatters them just by her mere presence

A divine being that has been profaned by their tarnished, blasphemous souls.

- Mmgh! - She muffles against the pillow yet again, an increase in their tempo that almost felt like they were demanding her attention, little moans coming out of her the more their wicked synchronization took a toll on her body, her thighs quivering hard and her mind a foggy mess that she is sure it's going to shutdown at any moment

- Whaa…- She drags her words as she tries to speak, mouth shifting every so often between voicing her content in the loudest cries of want and gasping for air like a madwoman in her deathbed, the sudden introduction of Mikasa’s digits rubbing and pinching her clit throwing her to the very edge, and Eren’s tongue parting her behind sealing the deal for her

For she has already given up, she can’t no more, their wicked duo proving to be too much for her to handle alone, her sight quickly blurring despite her effort to keep her last stand and her thighs shaking uncontrollably for one last time before everything comes loose, the sudden spike on her upper walls destroying the knot on her insides for good, adorning the mattress with yet another dark spot as she can do nothing to prevent herself from coming undone right in front of their eyes, the halt in their ministrations and their exaggerated reactions letting her know she is flooding like a broken faucet

Shadows overcome her vision as the smallest trace of strenght escapes from her body, the sensation of a hundred hands handling her form as a minor inconvenience, a million lips coating her whole, congratulating and cherishing her for making it this far, to please worry not anymore, for they will handle thing now onwards

And that, honestly, it’s what she wanted the most.

[mythoughtsonfilm]

the hunger games: the ballad of songbirds and snakes (2023)

rating: stop making war criminals hot/10

*spoilers*

-ok. so. i wasn't going to be one of those people.

-the people that just hop on the "snow is hot" bandwagon.

-but, alas...

-please don't expect any genuine analysis here, there is nothing even remotely close to that present at this time

-anyway. let's start from the top.

-the seventeen semi-unnecessary shirtless/shower/half-naked-sulking scenes they managed to cram in these first three seconds is actually kind of impressive

-i'm not complaining.

-i see all the snow family fortune is funneling directly into the Coriolanus bleach and tone fund

-the only thing running through my mind is book snow's inner monologue

-"district scum" keeps coming to me in flashes

-hop skip and jump to the reaping scene

-peter dinklage will slay no matter the occasion.

-and viola davis

-"i'm part of that litter" PLEASE

-i'm sorry. not a joking matter. sometimes i get too caught up on dialogue choices.

-"sing your way out of this one lucy gray."

-welp.

-omgggg he's so considerate showing up to the train like that

-what a sweet, caring guy

-i was so caught off guard by them literally dumping them into the zoo

-as if that's what should catch me off guard.

-dare i say snow is a bit of a devious betch

-dude has zero friends and is still managing to betray every one

-never trust a blond man, that's what i always say

-a PLATINUM blond at that

-i've lost the plot a bit

-literally

-anyway

-wait let's discuss that rejected kiss. i turned away from the screen tbh. can't handle the embarrassment.

-if i wasn't already missing the entire point of the movie, the "take off your shirt"-single-tear-stitching-up-of-the-wound moment definitely shoved me into the oblivious observer territory

-(i promise i took more from this movie than i'm letting on)

-(really)

-but now let's pop back to the games

-scream queens is preventing me from believing the rat poisoning situation but i'm trying to ignore that

-lucy slay baerd

-eh. sorry.

-HE CHEATED THE GAMES FOR HER

-he was just sending water. HE WAS JUST SENDING WATER. ugh.

-how could this possibly go wrong? he's so sweet and nice 🥰

-see, i think he thinks he's really smart but genuinely how do you use a monogrammed handkerchief to break the law??

-now, i understand he wanted to go to 12 and all, but using his family's literal last dime in this world to pay his way there is rubbing me the wrong way

-could it be? a(nother)? red? flag?

-ok so we're all just gonna pretend that scene of him facing the wall wasn't concerning to feminism.

-buzzcut era for the win

-sejanus and him should just kiss already.

-his utter commitment to being a peacekeeper is so jarring.

-suzanne collins knew what she was doing with these songs

-the punch.

-katniss reference, cute cute

-so sorry--did he LEAVE during the song NAMED after him?????

-oh lucy gray. you are far too good for him.

-so i'm thinking i need to wrap this up

-oops. shot someone there. whoops. got someone else strung up there. mistaaaakes. we all make em.

-"my old self"

-the old snow can't come to the phone right now...

-anyway.

-never in my life have i seen someone pitch a fit like this, get a grip

-hilarious how he just casually strolls back into 12 after that conniption.

-"you look just like your father" as you should, tigris.

-*villainous, brooding stroll across multiple lanes of traffic*

-the rainbow imagery. love.

-the hair timeline is really not working for me here, i feel like we skipped some vital info, but it's fine

-oh that callback was phenomenal booming through the theater

-i don't consider myself that dense, but i did, in fact, have to watch this entire movie and re-listen to "can't catch me now" to realize that's literally the whole movie right there. yikes.

-snow lands on top.

-god i hope so.

-i'm so sorry.

[caliburn-the-sword]

tlc winter last reactions

no final thoughts because i NEVER have final thoughts. they simply stew around in my head as time goes by and i post as we go

jacin's not gonna die he's a main character. can't wait for aimery to eat shit

yay!! scarlet to the rescue!!!

HOLY SHIT WINTER USED HER LUNAR GIFT OMG

honestly i thought her thoughts were still really muddled like she had lunar sickness. but she's just killed someone. and her character voice has changed ever so slightly. she's describing her surroundings much more than she ever did (she used to only ever describe her hallucinations, which contributed to the dream-like read of all her chapters)

CINDER CHAPTER. this smells like a final confrontation

omg thorne captured OF COURSE. really, this almost brings us back to where it all began, with thorne and cinder having a jailbreak together <3 i feel nostalgic for a book i only read a few weeks ago what

cinder please use the lunar gift PLEASE make her dance in burning hot shoes

so proud of cress for shooting thorne even if it wasn't because she wanted to

NO SCARLET NO WOLF (they came in and got mind controlled silly gooses)

ik this is serious but this has gotta be the strangest duel. lol. i'm sorry (cinder and levana pointing their guns at their own heads because of the lunar gift. i could literally hear the ten duel commandments while reading the whole scene)

NO CINDER NO (cinder got stabbed because she prematurely thought she won and levana is a tricky bitch banking on the fact that everyone knows she's vain)

omg kai <3

okay since we've immediately cut to scarlet talking to her friend i think that everyone was perfectly safe and everyone is fine <3 hope my delulu becomes trululu (it did)

i'm glad scarlet is the rieux's hero

aww maha's death flag flowers <3 no one talk to me i'm emotional

ACKNSDJCKSDHF THE REFERENCE TO PICKING WILDFLOWERS FROM LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD I'M GONNA EXPLODE

OMG I WAS SO RIGHT BACK WHEN READING SCARLET, WOLFLET ARE TOTALLY ALSO A RETELLING OF BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

uh oh are they gonna fuck. please don't fuck i'm in chem and also there's a reason i don't read sarah j maas and whoever else writes a lot of smut

thank goodness for iko AND OMG CINDER'S ALIVE YAY CRESS IS ALIVE

thorne lost fingers. rip

very interested to see adri and peony

YAY THE TREATY OF BREMEN (i completely forgot about it)

with winter asleep like this this might be the climax of the little snow white fairy tale more than getting the cure for letumosis was

omg. jacin is not an orphan. perhaps miss marissa meyer does not hate parents as much as i thought she did. i think it's just him and thorne that aren't orphans. actually cress would have a mother out there somewhere but she's a horrid bitch. i don't remember ANY mentions of scarlet's mother, just that her father sucked, but since she never had her mother i assume her mother also abandoned her. but perhaps now because she's a hero they will reunite i hope jacin gets his chance to become a doctor as he wanted. I BET HE WILL REMAKE GARAN'S DEVICE AND CURE WINTER OF LUNAR SICKNESS

OMG JACIN'S GONNA KISS HER IT'S JUST LIKE SNOW WHITE

omg no don't tell me winter has lost her memory

omg kinney is cinder's personal guard. i had a feeling that would happen since he's the only named guard other than jacin LMAO

slayed. cinder didn't owe her stepfamily ANYTHING. while i personally would have loved her to yell and scream and rip them a new one, but that was so good for her. i'm not even mad

i find it strange that kai himself finds formalities were weird. he was literally raised royal. now i'm gonna write a speculative fic of him being sent to a completely ordinary school in disguise to receive formal education with the commoners as a lesson (which wouldn't exactly be supported by canon considering his dad was a bit yikes. perhaps his mum was totally chill and she was the one insistant on it. and then when she died his dad pulled him out again)

I KNEW IT THE CHIP WAS INSIDE IKO AND I'M A GENIUS

i wish i could've seen the linhs get their come uppance instead of royalties but i'll find it within myself to live with this. hopefully peony learnt a lesson and won't turn out to be a major bitch like her mum. but somehow i highly doubt that

yes. thorne kind of deserves to get pardoned after all he's done for earth. and i have a feeling cinder is gonna negotiate his rampion back. however. i think it would be REALLY funny if after ALL this they just sent him to prison lmao

cress PLEASE become the chief information security officer at kai's palace like he planned on asking, i'm BEGGING you

somehow this makeout scene was even MORE uncomfortable than the last. i feel nauseous

okay in summation of how uncomfortable cresswell make me: the fact she rarely uses his name and only calls him captain. idk if this is just me only ever calling teachers miss or sir and other authority figures sir or ma'am but it literally just feels to me that she's recognising him as an older, more experienced or powerful figure. which is exactly the imbalance (that has come with their age gaps and experience gaps) which is the reason for problem in the first place. god. yikes

gamekeeper winter. i like sound of that (update: i like diplomat winter even more)

“Though I might play fetch, depending on the prize.” jacin has a pet kink confirmed??? (this is a joke. god i can't stand these people sometimes)

i didn't comment on cinder borrowing winter's dress before because i thought that maybe it might've been too big but cinder wasn't vain enough to notice or that it had been hemmed without mentioning, but now that it has been specifically mentioned that cress's dress HAD to be hemmed it's canon that cinder and winter are the same size. i can't believe that i have not one but TWO confirmed flat queens. and winter is canonically the prettiest girl alive

“I was just thinking about the good future,” he said. “The one with you in it.” I'M SCREAMING SHAKING THROWING UP NO ONE TALK TO ME

thorne and cinder high five <3 it really started just the two of them

it is so wattpad of iko to have eyes that change colours based on her mood AND I LOVE IT

ACKGHNDIX THE FOOT. WE'VE COME TO THE END OF THE CINDERELLA STORY. FULL CIRCLE

YES YES YES YES YES REPUBLICAN LUNA FTW I LOVE DEMOCRACY FUCK MONARCHISTS. I LOVE THIS AND I'M SO HAPPY. now it's kai's turn

goodbye foot

WAIT NO WAY THAT'S THE END WTF I TURNED THE PAGE AND JUST NOTHING. this is a federal crime.

only major thought is aww cinder didn't get to torment levana with the lunar gift like the red hot shoes. but also. i completely understand why it didn't and couldn't happen, and i was never expecting it to.

anyway now that i've read all the main stuff will it be safe to start following everyone back without getting major spoilers?? i would LOVE to continue this with stars above and the graphic novels?? (which aren't appearing on goodreads as part of the series for some reason) but most unfortunately i have exams coming up in less than a month and will probably need to put reading on hold until november if i want to stay sane. this was fun while it lasted and i can't wait to dive back into tlc once i'm free<3

@eddisfargo @francforever @winterrhayle @winterpinetrees @shellyseashell @luna-maximoff-22 @queenjazz7 @mtmousie @dramatic-jellybean

[tanglepelt]

Are we to blame?

AO3

After a reveal, Maddie reflects on everything.

Was it their fault?

Was Phantom because of them?

Were they to blame?

Ever since the reveal. Since they found out their son was Phantom that’s been on her mind.

Did they cause it?

It’s a simple matter of fact. That ghosts are dead. They don’t need to breathe and don’t have heartbeats. They don’t need to hold a physical form. Ghosts were something unknown. Nothing like what their biased research suggests, a whole new species.

Ghosts weren’t alive, at least not in the human sense. Ghosts had to be dead.

Yet phantom… Danny wasn’t dead. Danny was still a human, heartbeat and all.

For Danny to be half ghost and he has to be. Even if hasn’t said that out loud. The transformation turns him into a ghost. Same abilities to fly, the ecto blast, and all the standard powers. There was no doubt about it. Phantom was a ghost, and Danny was human. Yet both are the same person. Even the anti-ecto weapons hurt Phantom.

The weapons...

The guns, lasers, and traps. Their house was designed to keep ghosts out. The security system going off. All of it, it was intended to prevent or capture ghosts. The house was designed to hurt him.

How often had they gone after their son?

How many injuries did they cause?

How many of the bruises, injuries, and nights lacking sleep were their fault? How much was there blame? Going after Phantom over and over. The hunt was never-ending, taking every opportunity they had to hunt him. Going to Casper high, chasing him in the GAV, and the words they didn’t speak.

She shouldn’t have shot first.

They were to blame for never asking questions. Assuming the worse of an entire species, completely forgetting there are two sides to a story. They continually mocked Phantom, and threatened him.

Always screaming about ripping Phantom apart. Tearing him apart molecule by molecule. Hinting him. They hunted their son. Hunted their half-dead son.

When could he have died? How did it happen?

Maddie knew that logically his death happened around when the ghost first appeared. When the portal first opened.

They still didn’t know what caused the portal to suddenly work. Nothing had changed. Nothing new they did. Something and have shifted or changed. A portal wouldn’t just start working out of nowhere, the calculations had been correct. It was the portal structure itself that didn’t work. Neither she nor Jack had touched the portal before it lit up. Things don’t start working without a change.

Around the time the portal began to let beings through was when Danny’s behavior changed.

Phantom showed up at the same time. He had to have died somewhere in that timeframe. He was already turning into Phantom within the first week of the portal being open. The start of the madness they created. They brought the ghosts into the human realm.

All the signs something was wrong had been there. Ignored by the thrill of the portal finally working.

They saw the changes.

How he was always out past curfew, his grades dropped, and how exhausted he always was. Those should have been red flags. They should have investigated it more. They were scientists the evidence had been tight in front of them.

Why didn’t they piece it together?

They must have been too distracted. Every event seemed to revolve around ghosts, even the ones that were meant to be ghost free. When Jack and Danny went fishing only for a ghost attack. While she was home with jazz it wasn’t peaceful. They had to deal with a ghost girls’ night out on the town.

When she tried to take Danny on a trip it ended up with them stuck in the woods, being hunted by ghost animals. When Danny started freaking out seeing things that weren’t there, Jazzs forced vacation. Danny had been freaking out that whole time. The ghost shield looking for anti-ghost weapons. Danny had been acting like a madman claiming ghosts were around. Maddie would bet there had to have been.

Danny wouldn’t have lied like that.

There had to have been a ghost. That paranoia of what he was seeing, a ghost had invaded that trip. Time after time it was all ghosts. Jack fished them out of the portal, his willy-nilly lab safety.

Jack just opened that portal whenever he pleased, letting things in and out at allay every day. Even before the portal was working its all they could think about. Their lack of precautions is so obvious now. Keeping ectoplasm in the fridge, bringing food to life. There aren’t any locks on their lab equipment. No safety locks, really the only warning system they have is for the filter and a ghost alarm.

The weapons are all laid out, and easily accessible. They even have a dungeon and that’s not secure. Anyone could get into it. They could lecture about safety all day but don't actively enforce it. There was no safety in this house.

They were lucky nothing happened when the kids were young.

Without Danny telling them what happened she couldn’t say nothing happened. The portal suddenly working right around when he got powers didn’t suggest anything good. For now, all they could do is move on and do better.

One day she may get her answers.

[bigbumder96]

my review on the original heartbreak high + the characters after watching like 2 nd a half seasons😈😈😈

spoilers below‼

the original is so much different to the reboot?😭 tbh the first season was very different to the rest of the show aswell as the reboot, but the only similarities i feel like they both have is that its took place in the same school and some (2💀) of the characters are in the reboot some way or another

overall, i do like the show. more than the reboot??? maybe, maybe not, idk😰😰😰 but its very well written in the sense that all the characters are insufferable, but you still feel pity for them and have a soft spot for them until next thing you know, theyre number 1 on your favourite list for the next 3 episodes until they do something crazy and slide all the way down to the bottom🙁

the storylines are actually really interesting, although i just know the writers are starting to run out of ideas. like theyre averaging around 40 episodes fkr 7 seasons there is NO way its gna be interesting all the way through💀 although i could be surprised, i was only bored in the first episode or two, because it has a bit of a slow beginning. infact i started this tv show ages ago but i never got past episode 1 until now😭

one problem i do have is the normalised large age gaps😨 like a 30 year old will date a 17 year old and nobody bats an eye... a bit scary tbh😞😞😞 they do still have storylines about how bad large age gaps are and how they're creepy but yk... hypocrisy is a real disease. im not too surprised though, as the tv show is based off a movie, called the heartbreak kid, about a romance between a teacher and her student. not so funfact: the teacher was called christina and the student was called nick. they were both played by the same actors as nick poulos and ms milano in the tv show. ☹

my opinion on the characters:

THANKFULLY they decided to keep this relationship out of the tv show. that doesnt stop the teacher x student relationships though😰😰😰 like the whole mr north - rose thing seemed pretty one sided on roses part thankfully, but he was still a nonce. like wdym u got a 17 year old pregnant and thats why you dont want to date rose? shouldnt the age gap or the fact shes your student be the reason??? then you had a 30 year old picking up con from a highschool, where she tells him he would look 'sexy' in a uniform, which just screams red flag, plus southgate and george (2 adults) knew and didnt gaf??😭 omg need i remind he was basically 🍇ed by lucys mother in the catering episode🙁 dont even get me started on sam and rivers. like he started harassing her which is horrible, but then she keot defending rivers and eventually started liking him back??? and when the students find out deloraine fired her they got mad at deloraine??? do they not care shes basically a nonce😥😥what even was the moral of this story because it was so icky... and then they run away together.😐 one storyline that highkey made me sob was lucy and her mums bf. im so happy they portrayed this in a negative light, cuz the scenes made me so uncomfortable. lucys actor is incredible tbh, this storyline was acc so sad☹

sorry for ranting, im just so mad about these😭

nick: he actually used to be my favourite, but at some point he became such a dick. like i still have a small soft spot for him because he was really nice at times, but him cheating on jodie was probably the final straw for me😭

i still absolutely ugly sobbed when he died🙁 tho

jodie: i didnt like her at first for some reason?? i dont know why???? shes actually really sweet, and probably the most open minded character in the whole show. nit at all relevant but she lowkey gives off gothic vibes😭 anyways someone find her a nice supportive boyfriend or i will date her instead. tbh tho, her and nick were cute while they lasted. also she is acc such a good singer and rapper omfg.

i also love the friendship she has w rivers and steve. like that is the perfect definition of platonuc boy and girl friendship where you can be close without catching feelings with eachother. like cuddling the homies. like kissing the homies goodnight. idk man my point is that some trios do work😋

con: probably my fav character !!! he was also my dads favourite too (my dad used to watch this when he was younger) 😭 he has a very likeable personality icl, although i feel like he lowkey has a lack of storylines. idk why, it just feels like they never give him any important storylines which is kinda sad😞 one storyline that he did have was the one with rose and jack and OH MY FUCKING GOD I GOT SO MUCH SECOND HAND EMBARASSMENT. like con, ily but asking rose to marry you was NOT a girlboss move🙁 anyways dare i say he has adhd. people might disagree, its just a headcanon (although he is adhd coded. quinni may not be the only nuerodivergent character in the hbh universe..😈)

steve: i used to hate him because i thought he was irrelevant and treated danielle horrible, but at some point in season 1 the episodes got very steve-centric and he grew on me sooo bad.😨 istg tho, there was a certain point where he could not catch a break and i felt so bad😭 like imagine ur parents divorcing and becoming homeless because none of them wanted you, and then finding out youre adopted??? crazy. imo, id say he had one of the best written storylines in the tv show, but i think thats just because i lowkey related to him.😣 like the depression arc was real (that aint even the part i related to💀) anyways hes also vv funny, and i know he dies and im already grieving him despite not actually getting to that part yet☹

danielle: i mean shes okay???? i liked her at first iykwim but then she became kinda annoyibg nd rude😭 shes fine now, but i still dislike her. however, im kinda curious to see how this drug storyline works out, as the writers seem to do pretty well with all of danis storylines. ive not gotten to this bit yet, im just kinda curious😞 however, i dont know if shes pro choice or pro life and ots scaring me...

rivers: idk, i mean sometimes hes tolerable, and other times hes just a knob. i do feel bad for him though, he went through some shit🙁 he was kinda creepy at times tho, ntm the racism and homophobia...😰 i can sense the character development though, like the difference between him in season 1 vs now is obvious ! i do dislike him quite a lot though still.

the whole thing with sam is so icky though😭

rose: icl, i loved her. she deserved to be in the show longer. i thought she was incredibky delusional though, like first that pedo mr north, and then jack? except the crazy part was that her delusions were right😥😥 i was extremely oblivious to the fact jack liked her back, but yk, never underestimate the power behind teen girl magazines😈 the whole thing with the baby felt realistic (i think?? idk ive never had a teen pregnancy before) amd i thiught it was all executed pretty well !!! plus tess was really cute😭 it would be cool if tess came in the reboot as a teacher or something!!

icba to talk about every single character, so if perchance anybody wants to know how i feel about a certain character/storyline please ask! my box thingy is open :))

[kierreras]

i’m now rewatching first two seasons of obx in order to prepare for the new one and there is one thing that drawn my attention for this rewatch. i am pissed at how relationships were formed previously and i am so glad that we are getting slowburn with jiara because they are the healthiest canon (ish?) relationship that we could have in obx right now so, i love jarah. i really do, i think they simply click together. i am not a huge shipper because of the whole fastburn romeo-juliet kind of love not being my thing, but they simply work for me. still their beginning is not the healthiest. before they went to mainland together, we saw how john b reacted to sarah. one scene in particular stand out for me - when ward fired him after stealing scuba and he literally went and released his anger on sarah. which, let’s be honest, is really out of character for him. he threw away her bag of chips and the way he talked to her (or yelled at her?) was really bad. i understand that this was his job and he was convinced that it was sarah who snitched on him, but it does not give him a permission to act like that with any girl. also, when john b found out that ward knows about the gold and went to cameron’s - let me tell you if i was sarah i would have screamed. i know that after that there was no indication of such a behaviour from john b, but those two scenes totally imprinted in my memory.  moving on to pokie, where do i start? first of all, you cannot guilt force someone into a relationship. and i honestly think that this was guilt-forced from both sides. pope was the one who acted so salty for no reason. when you are rejected, you are rejected. you can feel all the emotions you need, but you can’t be mad at another person for simply not feeling the same way. yes, rejection in such a young age sucks, but processing the rejection by painting another person as a villain cannot be okay. from kie’s point of view, i can see her clenching to pope because she has just lost her best friend and she could not lose another one. was it healthy to cope this way? totally not, but it could be justifiable.  i am not so negative on them having sex. it was unnecessary, yes, but it is realistic. because you know that it’s not working, your relationship does not make you happy, so you go full on, trying for it to work. using sex as a last straw to make it work. and breaking up after first time is so real. every friend i know broke up with his first time partner. and it’s okay, this is how life works.  however, again being petty and playing on guilt is not justifiable.  i am even going to start with sarah/topper because topper is just a massive red flag. so, moving to two couples that were left out of this list? jiara and cleope. listen, there is only one scene with jiara that i treated as scene with toxic vibe and i know that many people would not agree with me. however, there is a scene where jj shakes her shoulders near the car in one of the last episodes of season two, i don’t like it. i just don’t like when there is an angry touch involved. and i know that it could be interpreted as jj’s inability to show emotions in stressful situations because of his abusive childhood, but it wasn’t on my mind when i first saw this scene.  other than that, there is no single scene that i interpreted as kind of a red flag. the way writers handled them, their silent communication, the way they care about each other. their banter is always light and the only time they were accusing each other was during their incident with pope’s camera. still, jj yealling “why are you always taking his side? why are you never on mine?” doesn’t sound like he is angry at kiara, it is just him feeling hurt, that’s all. so jiara could potentially have healthy start which not many obx ships had, just saying. as for cleope, i am sure they are going to be sweet and their second-love trope has so much potential by default. also, no past is hanging above their head for now, no family drama, so they potentially could have a very healthy story of healing broken heart and falling in love again. and i’m here for it.

[averytiredhuman]

Broken Arrow

The warm scolding summer sun burned the skin of the unknown woman. Her bare feet blister as the Nevada desert sand burns, and her body is bright red and covered in dust and dirt. Mud forms as the tears seep from her green eyes, her lips chapped and ripped from being dry, her throat burns as she breathes, and the dirty torn dress she was forced to wear clung to her skin as she sweats. She was thin and not from going to the gym or from a diet, no months of only being fed once a week has taken its toll. Her legs quiver as she takes an unsteady step towards what she thinks is the main road, and her eyes burn as she looks up – how could this happen to her? How could a straightforward day of doing important work turn into her screaming, crying, bleeding and clawing her way to freedom? How could she have let it happen?

As her barren feet touch the scolding paved road she began to cry out in joy, she fell to her knees but soon stood up when she heard the rumble of a car, her bone-like arms swung up as she tried to flag down the car, and she was successful, it was – surprisingly, a police vehicle, as it came to a halt a man and a woman jumped out “Are you alright?” the voice in the back of her mind made a sarcastic comment of ‘do I look like I am?’ only as she opened her mouth to speak a cry of pure and utter pain ripped past her lips “Call it in, let’s get her to a hospital.” The last she spoke as the male officer carried her to the car was her name “Athena”

Athena stares blankly at the off-white wall, her mind is still and busy, both at the same time. Athena’s family stood outside the hospital room, “She hasn’t spoken yet, but that’s understandable. Her throat and her vocal cords have extensive scarring.” Nora – Athena’s mother clutched her husband’s shirt as she cries silently “I am sorry to say, Mr and Mrs Arthur, it seems that your daughter has gone through horrific torture and I am so sorry.” Her family breaks down, and her father, Ryan’s face is hard, and his eyes are broken. He rubs his large hand up and down his wife’s back to soothe her, his voice is hoarse as he spoke “Have the police spoken to her yet?” the doctor shakes his head “They are coming in later today to speak to her.”

Her mind keeps going back to her torturing, she could still feel the sting of her skin and muscle being ripped open by the whip as it touched her back, the man’s voice – gruff as if he smoked one too many cigarettes and ended its light on her skin 'You deserve this, this is your fault, you did this to yourself.' His voice plays like a broken record. Athena’s eyes snap to the glass door as it slides open, her body goes rigid fear flashes through her eyes “Miss Arthur?” her head moves stiffly, up once, down, stop. Her eyes followed the man as he sat in front of her bed, her eyes took in every detail of his face. A greying scruff covers his chin and cheeks, lines run from his eyes and a harsh one between his eyebrows, and his hair – although still brown, has flecks of grey in between them “My name is Anton, I’m a detective with the Special Operations unit," her eyes follows his lips as they move. The detective’s eyes soak in her details, her light brown hair is still matted, longer than the photo they have of her, her full lips are chapped, her porcelain skin holds scars that he would never wish upon his greatest enemy, her eyes, her eyes are what make his heart wrench and her stomach churn, the dull green colour of her eyes held so much pain and so much fear and terror. Her hand clenched the large, white hospital pillow to her chest, hiding most of her body from him. Anton moved his chair a whole foot from her bed and this seemed to calm her, her hands no longer clenched at the large pillow, but it was still held to her body. “I’m going to ask you a few simple questions, and if you aren’t comfortable with them please let me know.” Her head moves up and down again slowly “I’m going to have to ask this, to get it out of the way. Were, were, you raped?” her eyes snapped up, and her head shook forcefully, Anton nodded and wrote down in his notebook. After extensive questions and only a shake or a nod from Athena, he told her he was going to come back another time.

During her time in the hospital, Athena sat idle, staring at the drywall, blinking only when her eyes were drying. In the room with her once a week a psychiatrist sat on a chair several feet away from her, the doctor’s hair is always twisted in a neat bun, her face is framed with thin lines, and her thin lips are painted light pink, Athena refuses to speak to the doctor – who after the third hour of Athena’s silence told her, her name. Athena blinked twice at the name of Dayna Fraser, during the rest of the week Dayna was given more information about herself than she had received.

Athena still sat, silent until a cold Friday morning, she had moved from her tight seat against the wall on her bed, to the soft cushioned seat by the window. Her light green eyes now stared at the water falling from the dark clouds in the sky “He never allowed me to see the rain.” Her voice is still gruff, Dayna could tell that it used to be soft, and smooth when rolling from her tongue. “The water used to pour into the room he kept me in, I could tell it was some sort of basement, the windows were as small as a four-by-four plank, thick rusted steel bars covered them.” Athena turns her head to the older woman, “I’m sorry, I have been very rude to you.” Dayna lifts her hand with a silver pen held between the thumb and the ring finger, “No need for apologies, I understand.” Athena turns her head back slowly to the window again. “He calls himself Ares,” a sound of displeasure came from her throat. “He thought it was fitting due to my name.” Athena’s eyes follow droplets that race to the bottom “I, I thought that I was going to be raped, killed after he had his fun, only he never did that, he never sexually touched me, it was as if my body offended him.” Her right-hand moves from the pillow, fingers rubbing over the red-stained bandages that are wrapped around her torso, “He started with simply cutting, small cuts that healed within a day or two, it wasn’t after I stopped my crying – five days after he took me, that’s when he began whipping me, I remembered for the first fifteen days I screamed until my throat bled, I – I could taste the blood as it dripped down my throat.” Her left-hand clutches the pillow tighter as her right moves from her torso to her neck, “he held me on a bed for the first three weeks, after that he strung me up, I remember how he left me to hang there until my shoulders popped out of their sockets, first my left then my right.” Her shoulders rolled back as if to pop them back in, there was a light pop that could be heard, it was loud to both women.

The next day, Athena sat in the same spot as the day before, in the same position, only her hair is now braided – washed, she is no longer in the given hospital wear, and her mother had dropped off a pair of black sweatpants and an old jersey from her university days. “You've changed clothing.” Athena’s green eyes are now framed by gold and brown framed spectacles “You wear glasses?” Athena’s head bobs, once up, once down, stop. Same as it’s been since she arrived, her body is still ridged, muscles tight, her slender bone-like fingers holding on tight onto a new smaller white pillow. Dayna could now see more of Athena's body as it was no longer covered with a large hospital pillow the black sweatpants were falling from her body, she is no longer the size 34 or medium that she formally used to be, now with the bones of her skeleton poking at the thin porcelain skin, still slightly red from her hours spent burning in the sun – it was a gift and a curse of Athena, no matter what she does she cannot tan, her veins and arteries could be visible, tendons move like worms as she moves a finger or wiggles a toe, her cheekbones are more defined, her eyes are sunken dark iron-deficient circles lines the bottom of her eyes. Her green eyes still follow the water droplets from the heavy rain outside, “I’ve recommended you to a PTSS group.” Athena’s eyes slowly move from the window to the doctor, a small smile on her chapped lips ``If you believe it may help.” Dayna’s dark brown eyes follow her lips as it moves, her eyes hold so much pain and fear, she’s falling into an act, one that can fool many. Athena turns her body toward the doctor, this is the first time in a week and a half that she shows an invitation, only her body is still covered by the pillow. “I remembered something last night.” The doctor nodded, “He called me Arrow, and he said ‘An arrow broken can still be shot, it just needs to be modified. I found it to be something that echoes in my mind at times.” The doctor wrote down the phrase.

[btranwrites]

Wesley is eager to show his new girlfriend to his parents, but can't stop feeling like something's wrong.

His parents had high standards, after all. But what were they? Somewhere within, Wesley felt a fleeting ghost of a worry, a whisper that he was missing something important. But its fingers were weak and limp, barely applying the weakest pressure on his throat, enough to hitch his breath for but a second, not quite strong enough for him to stop, for him to hang onto, for him to stop and scream for what was missing. Huh. No need to be so dramatic. Why stress over nothing? He was young, plenty of fish in the sea. He’d just got to find someone good enough, someone right, someone with a correct checklist. What else was he supposed to want from a partner?

Finally finished another chapter of Liam An, my ongoing novella that mixes superheroes with Lovecraftian horror. Last chapter, Liam, the protagonist, threw a drag party to draw in the potential culprit behind mysterious cases of missing people who lost memories, and ran into Wesley, his ex. However, it seems like Wesley does not remember their relationship, or even the fact that Liam, and Wesley himself, are gay.

Full chapter under the cut, or read on my website!

Liam An 4: Ill Correction

Intro post Chapter 1: Executive Intervention Chapter 2: Hall Business Chapter 3: Trench Complications

I.

Yeah the guy was cute, sure, but come on. How could Adrianna not see this coming? How did she miss this? She poked at a pea on her plate, chasing it around with the fork as she racked her brains for the signs she could have missed. He was polite, appropriately flirtatious, though maybe a little stilted at times, but overall he seemed like a functioning adult man?

“This crazy thing happened that night at the bar, you won’t believe this mum,” Wesley, the adult man in question, still had a lot to go through, apparently. “I ran into this dude, Liam, used to know him. Absolutely crazy, flinging shit around and shouting and all, but it didn’t matter, because she texted me back!” Adrianna shot her head up and looked over; finally, he noticed her—oh. Never mind, already back to talking with mum. “I was elated, mum! Couldn’t believe it. Right away I—”

Adrianna doubted it even mattered she said anything or not; the past half hour was torturous. How long did dinners usually last? An hour? Two? Maybe if she was less desperate, she could have realised that being invited to a ‘cool and chill’ dinner with the parents at the family home after two weeks was a very glaring sign. Meeting the parents often meant the whole night, but that was the more serious type of parent-meeting. Right? Maybe this ‘chill’ one could do with an hour and a half? Would she need to climb out a window? Break her ankle? It was honestly tempting.

And to think she thought it was cute, that it couldn’t be this bad, not everyone grew distant from their parents, close ties with family could be a green flag, and oh god, she could just hear the group chats having a fantastic time flaying her ass until dawn tonight.

“—watched it, yes! Starlight is a very good cinema! Drinks were a little pricey, but there were—”

The mum—her white hair was gorgeous, honestly—was listening to her son with stars in her eyes, chin in one hand, fork in the other, her plate basically untouched, her attention devoted to her son regaling his apparently rapturous dates with Adrianna. Classic red plaid table cloth, maximalist plates and silverware, the white vase with sunflowers on the mid-century cabinets at the back… Fine, Adrianna could imagine the two of them framed in a very sweet, aww-inducing painting, and fine, maybe Adrianna wasn’t that close with her own parents, maybe her parents weren’t invested enough in her life, but was there not a more appropriate time and place for a conversation like this? You know, not in front of the date? Hello?

“—We did check out the park! Nice and sunny, just a little breezy—”

Maybe she could retry a chat with the dad?

He was sitting across the table from her, still deathly quiet. Eyes still daggers ready for blood. Still looking like she trampled over the family graves or something heinous, who even knew. Definitely not Adrianna.

She tried a sweet smile.

The daggers sharpened.

Or not.

Adrianna ducked her head and chased the pea with her fork again. Slip sliding around the plate all wet, slathered in salad dressing. At least it was having a better time than she was.

***

Wesley turned off the music from the car radio on the drive by himself back home. He wanted some silence to think.

He didn’t blame Adrianna for not wanting to meet again, not really. Disappointed, yes; it had been two weeks, after all, and he was excited to show her to his parents, but he didn’t blame her, not for how cold dad was. Mum was enthusiastic, but why did dad not like her that much? An office job doing things with computers, so it wasn’t like she was a partying, unemployed gold digger or anything.

Oh she could party alright, but still, she was presentable tonight, no? She didn’t show too much skin or whatever. Not that Wesley would complain. Or that he had anything to complain about her. Nice breasts, slim waist, long flowing hair, she checked everything on the list. Nothing was wrong.

Or was there? He grunted. His parents had high standards, after all. But what were they? Somewhere within, Wesley felt a fleeting ghost of a worry, a whisper that he was missing something important. But its fingers were weak and limp, barely applying the weakest pressure on his throat, enough to hitch his breath for but a second, not quite strong enough for him to stop, for him to hang onto, for him to stop and scream for what was missing.

Huh. No need to be so dramatic. Why stress over nothing? He was young, plenty of fish in the sea. He’d just got to find someone good enough, someone right, someone with a correct checklist.

What else was he supposed to want from a partner?

II.

Brett fiddled over some notebooks from the side table, heaping a couple onto his lap, flipping over them as though he was looking for specific pages, gauging the vibe from his peripheral vision in the most uncomfortable armchair in the history of psychotherapist armchairs. Those wooden yet cushioned creatures—such a paradoxical existence—would have to do a lot of heavy lifting to make a room like this more comfortable, more breathable, no matter how well-ventilated and filled with sunlight and calming décor it was; not with clients looking like these.

Their platinum hair was lush, expertly styled, effortlessly crowning bright, wizened faces with but a few wrinkles, and only the fashionable ones. And clothing? Dark, of immaculate, no doubt premium textiles that warmed the body but fenced the soul, guarding intimacy only for a select few. If Alan was still here, Brett would have joined him in casting them as some sort of middle-class extras, ones that exuded the arrogant comfort only afforded by a lifetime unsoiled by hard work but undoubtedly stilted by decorum and etiquette.

He chastised himself; that was unfair. Hardships come in different shades, plaguing hearts and minds across class and generational divides. They were in his office, after all, and not even looking at each other. Joshua Flament was drilling a hole in the left wall with his gaze, and Mary Atkinson’s frown was setting ablaze the window behind Brett.

He stole a glance at the tealight candle burning patiently on the cabinet next to the full-length mirror leaning against the wall to his right.

Its reflection darkened, the lighting and colour dropping a shade colder.

His heart skipped a beat. He’s here.

Brett didn’t know why the Man in the Mirror was interested in these two. Letting him watch what was going to unfold was obviously not ethical, but when presented with the choice Brett found it wasn’t even a dilemma for him. Alan was worth any price.

Right, time to get this started. Brett picked a sheet from a notebook like he found what he was looking for, grabbed a pen, and clicked it. “Thank you for your patience, Mr. and Mrs. Flament. I understand you came with concerns for your son Wesley, who’s not here today. What’s troubling you?”

Joshua pried his eyes from the wall and threw their gaze at his wife. Mary stopped burning the world outside the window with her mind and glared at her husband, who rolled his eyes and turned to Brett. “Our son is seeing a woman.”

“Which is a great thing!” Mary exclaimed. “It’s a divine miracle—”

“It is not!” Joshua turned to Brett. “He came out to us as gay ten years ago, and—”

“And I told you then, which you agreed with me back then as well by the way, that it was a phase!” Brett managed a straight face when Mary looked back at him. “I keep telling him he’s upset for no reason. I prayed for our son’s salvation every single day since, and finally, God rewarded His faithful.”

Joshua looked offended. “Did you even mean it when you told him you love him? Was it through gritted teeth and crossed fingers? Christ, Mary!”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Of course I do! Love the sinner, not the sin. God works in mysterious ways, and he tested our faith over this difficult decade. You should be more grateful, Josh, and not insult His grace by wasting time and money on…” She looked around his office and somehow managed to bypass him completely, fingers vaguely feeling for something foul in the air. “On whatever this is.”

Wow. Like Brett wasn’t even there at all.

“This is our son, and I thought you would want to be more involved in having a professional opinion on our son’s wellbeing.”

“Should have been more steadfast in your faith instead, Josh.”

“Why did you even agree to go with me, then?”

Mary spared Brett a glance, then back at her husband. “I don’t agree with you. Our son is fine, he’s recovering. But if this will let you sleep soundly, then a few hours are okay to pass.”

Joshua rubbed his face, almost pleading, before giving up and turned back to Brett. “Our son came out to us way back when. It took us, or me at least,” he cast another accusing glance at his wife, who rolled her eyes again, “a few difficult years to come to terms with it, to learn and to understand. Now he’s acting like he was never into men at all.”

Mary shrugged. “Or he came to his senses and realised he actually does like women.”

“That’s absolutely not what happened Mary! Can you imagine the boy not even recognising the name Liam? ‘Oh the guy I used to go to college with, what about him?’ That Liam wasn’t just ‘some guy;’ we spent years trying to… trying to break them apart, Brett. And breaking our boy in the process. And realising how much I was hurting him.

“Now he scrunches his face at the name like something offensive… something disgusting. Like the face I must have made when he first brought up the notion that he’d prefer the company of men to women. Like when… like when I was still yelling at him. God, I was not a good dad, but… partying all night? Picking up girls at bars like a sleazy, uneducated brute? Even graduate Wesley was not that much of an excuse of a man. It would be one thing for him to come out as bisexual, but this… this acting like he was never gay to begin with, is him back in the closet, or even something worse.”

Mary waved a hand. “Why does it even matter, Josh? He was happy with the girl, isn’t that what’s important?”

“Was he, Mary? Was he? He didn’t even look at her that night, he was talking to you. Reporting every minutiae on how much of a lady-killer he was being. What if he got into a cult? What if she got him into a cult and brainwashed him?” Joshua looked at him. “How do I know my son was not brainwashed? I… I don’t know what my son is going through. How do I know if he’s OK?”

Brett rushed in the last few words of his furious scribbling onto his notes and put down his pen. At the periphery of his vision, the darkening had departed from the mirror, and so did the candle flame, a wisp of smoke rising from its wick. There had been no wind; the window was closed.

His work was satisfactory.

“Why are you smiling?” Joshua asked, frowning.

Brett looked back at the elderly man. “Ah, I’m always happy to see parents caring this much about their children. I myself don’t have that,” he didn’t bother looking at Mary; she wasn’t interested, and he doubted she’d be returning anyway. “It does sound concerning for your son, and there’s a lot to go through there. Let’s start, shall we?”

***

That evening, when the sun had set completely, no light adorned that same room except for candle flames, dancing gently by the dozens on the windowsill, on the desk, and the cabinets.

Brett lit the last of the candles and stood before the mirror. It was like looking down at a lake from a dock after nightfall. Lanterns only lit your path on land; their light breached not the domain of the deep, not strong enough to assure you nothing was staring back.

His work was satisfactory, Brett told himself. There was nothing to worry about. He put down the lighter, took a deep breath, and said to the empty room where sunlight had forsaken, “Mirror Man, Mirror Man, come to my mirror, Mirror Man.”

In the mirror, the candle flames winked away into the darkness. If it was like a lake before, then the lakebed had collapsed into an abyss. Its surface rippled, not like from a sudden breeze, but from undercurrents, of something moving, emerging. Then a shape of a man formed in the mirror before Brett, wearing an immaculately fitting tailored suit as black as the deepest night, and a tie as red as the finest wine. Shadows concealed his face, but where his eyes should be the candles once again danced, twin pinpricks of lanterns, of crackling promises.

Brett cast his head down; he did not dare look into those eyes for too long. “Thank you for coming, Man in the Mirror. I hope I did well this morning?”

A rumbling voice replied. “You did. I have what I needed. Payment was satisfactory.” There was a pause; a pressure Brett did not realise was on him lifted. “Seeing you called me here, I assume this is where you wish my service rendered?”

Brett lifted his head. The candle eyes returned their gaze on him, and the pressure returned. But the deep did not feel cold or biting. It was warm, comfortable. Safe. “Yes… I…” He struggled with sudden need, eyes again yanked downward. “I want to remember. Our first night.”

“That can be arranged. Is that what you desire as completion for our transaction, Brett Crawford?”

It was the easiest answer. “Yes.”

“Then when you are ready to conclude business, Brett Crawford, look into my eyes.”

He took a breath and looked up again. The instant his eyes met the pinpricks of candles, his mind fell forward. It rushed past the horrid flashes of the last night at the hospital, past the night of the accident, past the many anniversaries, the many fights and the many laughs, to the first months… the first night.

The onslaught was over the moment it started, and once again Brett was back in his office. Half the candles had whisked away, the rest casting frantic shadow tendrils on the walls, flinging to a silent tune of manic ecstasy.

Before him stood the Man in the Mirror in the flesh, but he wasn’t in the suit and tie as he was in the mirror. Perhaps it was the play of shadows and candlelight, but to Brett he had on the exact button up and jeans that Alan wore that night, when Brett was staying late for work and Alan offered to bring over dinner. They had just been seeing each other for a few weeks, and it was such a sweet gesture, and he smelled so good then, like spice, like tobacco, like fragrant sweat and immense tang and exactly like what his nose was savouring here and now.

Brett gripped the ledge of the desk like a lifeline. His booming heart commanded him to step forward, but his feet were leadened with fear, fear of somehow shattering the candlelit dream before him. But the dream, oh it did not shatter, it took his trembling hand and placed it on that chest. There under his palm Brett felt the right fabric, the right warmth and hardness, drowning in the right scent, his head swimming in all the ways the light and shadow caressed the little he could see of the face before him being so right, so correct.

“You’re not him, I know you’re not,” his voice broke, “but oh God, I want to believe.”

Warm breath breezed through his lips, tasting like the red Alan brought that night. Shimmering eyes held his gaze. “Tonight, you are allowed to. Tonight, I am not the ghost from the mirror. Tonight, Brett Crawford, history is just a bad dream. Tonight, forget what hurt and remember what didn’t. Tonight, Brett, call me Alan.”

“Alan,” he let go of the ledge and leaped into an open embrace, landing on warm cotton and cologne that were very much still there, very much did not vanish. “Alan. Oh God, I miss you so much.”

Large tender hands held his face, fingers and lips burrowing through his hair, dragging burning wetness down across his forehead, his cheek, and nestled in his ear, imparting soft murmurs like oak, like honey, like crackling lantern flames promising the moon itself, in a voice not from the mirror, but the voice robbed from him for many years too long.

Alan told him, “I am here, love. And I missed you, too.”

III.

Wesley was huffing and puffing his way down the stairs to the gym’s showers in the basement, furious. Weights and sweats were supposed to let off steam, but an hour of strenuous work later he was just more pissed off. Why were there so many people? Especially the guys. Yeah yeah, they were buff, they were good-looking, they lifted heavy, they were huge, he got it, got it loud and clear, now could they not get off his face?

Not that they were rude or anything; they were perfectly polite, courteous even, but Wesley was still pissed for some reason. All this lifting didn’t make him any less agitated, just made it worse.

What a waste of time. At least the showers were downstairs so he could walk away for a bit.

Wesley spun around the corner of the exposed concrete of the stair rails, and almost ran into a half-naked man if he didn’t catch himself.

Or not.

“Woah there, buddy!” The annoyingly smiley man said, built like a brick wall, because of fucking course he was; there was just a towel loosely hanging onto a very slim waist, underlining a very defined stomach, and Wesley doubted the guy would even mind if it dropped.

Of course Wesley would mind! God, why was he so irritated?

The guy raised his palms defensively, backing off; Wesley realised then he was glaring murder at him. “Good evening,” the man hesitantly nodded, looking apprehensive at Wesley’s frown, and walked off to the drawers.

Wesley sighed, frustrated, mostly with himself now. The gym wasn’t a strange territory to him, seeing sweaty half-naked men there wasn’t new to him. Why had the past few weeks been so weird? Liam turning out to be a fag out of nowhere, Adrianna dropping him, failing his parents again… It was like something tectonic shifted beneath his feet, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what went out of place, or missing.

He stripped in the thankfully empty locker room, trying to calm his breath by focusing on the scents of air freshener and sports shampoo, the sterile white tiles, the straight cut wood panels, all clean and orderly and correct and maddening. He wrapped on a towel and left for the showers. Christ, maybe he could look up those hippy places where you could go smash stuff?

He stopped by the sink, catching his half-naked reflection, tiny in the yawning, massive minimalist mirror. Wesley was sweaty, like the lot of the men upstairs, though obviously not as big or built; he didn’t look too bad himself, but hold on. Why was he breathing so hard? Almost hyperventilating?

Wesley felt like nails were scratching from the inside of his chest, like he should be feeling something, but he didn’t know what.

What was wrong with him? What was missing?

The lights went out in the bathroom.

Not all of them did, but enough that darkness undraped around him. There were no commotions he could hear above, so surely this was just an electrical fault, nothing to worry about. But Wesley’s eyes locked in on the mirror, now like a vast still lake, at the somehow still illuminated but shadow-shrouded, naked reflection that seemed to fray at the edges before him. It had to be his own—it was a mirror after all—but the man in the mirror had the size he didn’t have, with muscular definition that rippled and mesmerised and Wesley thought of Liam.

He thought of Liam, he thought of Liam naked, of Liam under him, on top of him, of whispers and touches that clawed and burned. He gasped, clutching at his head, but the images blackened his vision with nauseating memories he did not have, laughs he did not remember, Liam in his arms, face buried in the nape of his neck, wet hot tears and choking sobs and wracking, retching guilt, oh God they are my parents, Liam, I cannot do this, I’m sorry, you will find someone else, I will miss you, and that voice, oh that voice.

That voice, telling him he will miss him too.

A voice so alien yet so familiar, a forgotten comfort, something engrooved by the weight of years then ripped out and discarded, only rust marks left behind. It was a younger voice, one Wesley heard just a few weeks back older, more matured, more hardened in the alley at the back of that stupid bar, a voice laced with anger and hurt, asking him, accusing him, what were they?

What were they, Wesley?

They were friends, what else could they be?

But the nails inside his chest must have drawn blood, because there was pain, but also sorrow, so much sorrow, so much of it that he could not understand what for. Wesley clung onto the edge of the sink, but lost grip, knees planting on the tiled floor. Bleary eyes showed him phantoms: the lights were gone, but the reflection in the mirror above him still stood tall, flickering as though lit by house fires; a reflection of a man, eyes of smouldering crimson flames glaring down at him.

A naked, beautiful man.

A naked, beautiful Liam.

Wesley did not know how he could possibly have known; after all, he'd never seen Liam naked now, did he? But that chest, that body screamed familiar. It screamed at him, and Wesley too wanted to scream back not in recognition, but that this was wrong, wrong, wrong, something bad, a horrible, ill thing to be corrected away, but those crimson eyes were relentless, blazing past the terror and demand to be right and correct and slammed straight into his heart.

It thumped.

Wesley clutched at his chest. In the split-second ringing of that drumbeat within, he understood what had been missing.

Adrianna checked the list, Adrianna was correct, the way he was corrected. From what, he could not remember, but his bones ached in the hollowness left behind, the lack of something primal, something essential, the absence of histories erased, of decades washed away.

In that heartbeat, there were no lists to check. In that heartbeat there was only a swansong of want. It was not right. It was not correct. But it rang like thunder.

It rang true.

Somewhere within, a tripwire snapped. Pain seared through him like fire, and nothing else registered. Wesley again remembered nothing, nothing but blinding, all-consuming rage.

IV.

Fuck! That did not get through to him! Inside the Glasslit Void, Liam discarded the illusion of his naked body off his Shard Reaper body suit and jumped through the mirror, landing on the tiled floor of the gym bathroom. Wesley was writhing on the floor, screams mixing up with choked cries as his body contorted in on itself.

“Wesley!” Liam rushed over and knelt down, reaching for his mind. It was a frantic, incoherent mess, and the heart he managed to pry open was a dwindling inferno. The lights flickered hard; shadows fought over their dimming brightness. Show was over; this was no longer necessary. He willed the darkness back to the Void.

The darkness did not respond.

Wesley was crying out, but it was a bestial sound. Black shards flipped in and out throughout his body, shadows coalescing around him, alien, shining black tendrils squirming over themselves, rushing towards his chest where the fire was fading. Liam strained his will, commanding the shadows back.

They did not budge.

These were not his darkness. These came from elsewhere.

“Wesley, Wesley,” Liam tried. “Remember! Hold on to it! Do not let go—”

The flame inside Wesley snuffed out. A shockwave blasted from the core of the once-again vanquished man, pushing Liam back.

All the ruckus must have been loud enough, because there were heavy footsteps pounding down the stairs. Liam snapped his neck back to catch two guys with only towels on, three others still in their workout clothes shining fresh sheens of sweat, barging into the carnage he was now in the middle of.

He shouted. “Evacuate now! This is Hall business!”

They looked behind him, eyes widened, and ran back out.

Liam looked back. Before him, whimpering, in a form that was barely human, was an amalgamation of blackened, writhing glass shards that frayed into nasty fibrils and coiled back into themselves by the second. Gelled black ink bled from the shifting cracks, and in the ashes of the extinguished radiance in his chest, a crucifix of rusting nails jammed through his heart.

That did not look good.

Ending on bad terms or not, it pained him to see anyone like this.

Liam tapped the side of his head. “Jamie, do you copy?”

His earpiece replied. “Roger, Shard Reaper. Status report?”

“I’ve located Wesley Flament. He is… unresponsive, potentially turning hostile. Request backup on standby. We’re at Palm Bay Gym, Eastcourt.”

“Any civilians?”

“Yes, it’s quite busy. I’ve told them to evacuate, trying to control the target now.”

The Wesley-formed bundle of shifting shards and fibrils and bleeding, fraying black goo rose up. It turned around, hungry, empty eye sockets stared at him, the same pits that stared him into paralysis behind the Trench a few weeks back, now simmering with rage.

Liam hurried. “Actually, dispatch backup ASAP. This is looking nasty.”

The Wesley-thing roared and sprinted at him. With mirrored spikes, holy fuck.

“Reaper! What’s happening?”

He shouted, “Jamie, get help here now!” and ducked to the side.

Wesley-Thing slammed head-first into the mirrored wall. Glass smashed against glass, a thousand splinters spraying all over the pristine bathroom. Liam pounded the steps up the stairs back to the gym ground floor.

Gym bros, jocks, men in tight-fitting shirts and shorts looked at him, their faces in various stages of concern and uncertainty, but apparently not enough to forfeit their lifting session for the night.

He shouted. “Why are you all still here?! Hall of Heroes containment in progress! Evacuate now!”

Some stood up and started leisurely packing away their stuff. The rest went back to their sets.

Jesus Christ. Liam took a deep breath, gathered his will, and in a snap plunged the entire gym floor into heavy shadow except for emergency lights, which brightened like miniature lighthouses in a sudden storm. Then with a massive psychic blast, the Shard Reaper unleashed visions of spiders, snakes, all manners of creepy crawlers, indeterminate contorting screaming faces flooding the vision and mind of everyone. His voice boomed, “LEAVE. NOW.”

And now there were screams and running, people finally scrambling off benches, machines and racks. Thank you.

Wesley-Thing pounded up the stairs, roaring; more people screamed, everyone picking up their pace dashing for the exit. The dimness did not deter the Thing’s vision; its head locked in on Liam immediately and started sprinting.

He jumped into a mirror and out the other side of the gym floor.

The Thing corrected its course, and charged at him again.

The Shard Reaper was not a fighter; Liam used his mind to intimidate, manipulate, and quite often seduce his way to his objectives. His muscles were just for show, and the only pounding he was proficient in was not the physically violent type; that he left for other Heroes of the Hall. Now there was an inhuman thing in the vague shape of his first love charging at him at full-speed, and the violent pounders of the Hall had yet to show their faces.

He could just fuck off to the Glasslit Void and wait it out, but that would risk Wesley-Thing turning its attention on the escaping gym goers.

Okay, this better work.

Liam backed away slowly. Wesley-Thing kept its charge, roaring all the way, all sunken eyes and a pit for mouth, grating shards shining a sickening darkness, coiling around the damn crucifix.

The rest of the gym goers had evacuated. When the Thing was a few paces away, he cut off the lights completely, and slipped into the sudden darkness.

The Thing hit empty air, and from the shadows Liam landed on its back. In one smooth motion, he wrapped his legs around its waist, spun around, and pinned it down on the floor, straddling on top.

Bedroom gymnastics had limited cross-disciplinary applications.

Before the Thing could get its bearing, Liam yanked the crucifix off its chest, drawing a sharp gasp. He threw it off the side, hitting the carpeted floor with a thud, and withdrew the darkness from the lights. In artificial dawn, whimpering underneath him was Wesley, eyes red and wet.

“Liam?”

Oh thank god. “Wesley? Wesley, can you hear me?”

A trembling hand reached for him. Wesley’s face crumbled as he sobbed. “Please help. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

Liam caught the hand with both of his. “We will, I promise we will, okay? Help is coming. The Hall will be here soon, and we will—”

Red wet eyes collapsed back into hungry pits. Trembling lips slit open wide, too wide, into a mad grin filled with pointed teeth that rolled over themselves like gears in a machine. “You thought it was that easy, didn’t you?”

Fuck! He gripped the Thing’s wrists. “What the fuck are you? What have you done to Wesley?”

“Hello to you too, Shard Reaper. Or should I say, Liam?”

He froze.

“Good thinking on the crucifix, but that’s more decorative than anything, sorry boo. And don’t worry, I’m not ratting you out, where’s the fun in that? I’m very keen on you, Reaper, and your mirrors. This is getting real interesting.”

The windows smashed in. Yellow Watch landed, wings spread wide knocking over benches and weights, shimmering hammer in his hand. Oathbearer rolled off his back, unsheathing her giant sword. The Eye of Magnus followed in from outside, the green halo radiating from his staff softening as he landed softly a few paces nearby. They started running over to him.

“Looks like our chat is unfortunately short,” the Thing said. “Lovely meeting you, Shard Reaper, we will meet again. I shall leave you a parting gift.”

“You are going nowhere—”

Wesley’s back jerked up with a sickening crack and a soul-wrenching cry. His eyes were human again, wide in utter terror, helpless when his neck snapped to the side, cutting short the scream.

His wrists in Liam’s hands went limp, too weak to hang on to what was missing, what was corrected away.

“Wesley? Wesley!”

[sagehqs]

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” Leaning her head softly against his shoulder, Sage had no choice in the smile on her face. All thanks to Owen, it seemed the smile was a new, permanent feature on their face. Even when she wasn’t around him, all she had to do was get her thoughts remotely in his direction and that smile crept up. Being with him in the same room? That damn smile never left their face, only unless to flare dramatics as they so often tended to do with him around. Something about him, perhaps everything about him, lit their entire being up. Thoughts of him lingered and danced in the back of their mind, with or without being prompted – but Sage didn’t mind one bit. In fact, his presence in their mind was beyond welcome. This had been the happiest they’d been in a hot minute, so anything to keep that feeling was well received.

If they could have taken back the whole moment of pulling their hand back, they would have – his little sound of protest sending a pang through their chest. “Have I told you how much I like the way you think?” Overly fond of the statement, they couldn’t do a single thing to prevent the admiration that took over their features. Having leaned fully into their feelings for Owen, they were completely helpless under his entire existence. He was brilliant, which paired insanely well with how passionate and considerate he was. Those three features alone would have swept Sage off their feet, but those were only the tip of the iceberg when it came to him. So far his worst trait was not being able to cook, and within an evening they found a solid compromise to that. He, in their opinion, was damn near perfect – and they relished in that completely. For once in their life, they weren’t on the hunt for red flags, they were completely happy with the green ones, and the abundance of them.

With a grin, her hands pulled up, over her heart for a moment, batting her lashes at him before signing, “My hero.” However, she did raise a finger in an addendum. “Can you fight them without killing them? While they might not realize how dangerous to me they are – they’re still endangered and deserve to be protected.” They had to add that, having a small side passion for different variations of pollinators. As he pulled back to the thought of cooking together, they beamed and nodded along enthusiastically “No, exactly! It’s so much to do, especially when you do it alone. Like… prepping and cooking is a lot, then you have all the dishes. It’s a very stressful time. But this?” With a small scoff, they shook their head. “This has been easy and so much fun. I’d absolutely love to cook with you again.” Pursing her lips, she giggled as she added, “Well, pending the results of the cornbread.” With a wink, they did their best to keep a straight face.

Welcoming the kiss, they giggled quietly, utterly thankful that this was the result of spilling feelings. They truly couldn’t have handled it had their situation gone in a different direction, so they were going to cling to each moment that they possibly could. At the invitation to come over in just a few days, Sage nodded and bit at their lip softly. “I’d absolutely love to. Oh, yes please – I’d love to see your place.” With an excited scream, she tapped his arm excitedly, “I’ll get to meet Lady. Oh my god. I know you make it out to be easy to get her love, but I really hope I don’t fuck it up with her.” Laughing at the idea, she shook her head and took a deep breath. “That’ll be so much fun. I’m looking forward to it.” They were, that was very clear; any chance to see him and explore his world was an opportunity that they were going to take.

Kisses on their forehead would forever and always be their favorite, so having them in passing caused her heart to flutter and cheeks to heat. As she carefully worked on the crust, occasionally catching Owen’s glances and returning the goofy face and eyebrow wiggles as they did. Dusting her hands against her apron, she moved to rest against the counter, laughing loudly as she watched Owen do his little dance over. Watching his hands, she shook her head dramatically and rolled her eyes. “Don’t go blaming me for that – everything you’ve done you’ve been able to do this whole time. I would, though, always be willing to help you cook, though. Like I said, this has been a blast and I would gladly do it again.” Whatever chance they got, whatever opportunity to see him they could have, they were going to take advantage of.

“A self-portrait?” Literally cackling at their own lack of artistic ability, they quickly shook their head. “It would be a stick figure and it would still probably turn out really, really badly. I can do random shapes at best, anything more than that is going to look pitiful.” Shrugging just a little, they carried on, “I actually need to watch more baking shows – I’ve been slacking. I’ve been watching dumb cartoons recently.” At the question of the pie filling mix, Sage raised their brows and gave a small shrug, “Going to be honest, we’ll have to check Google on that one. This might be my first time making a pie since I was a teen.” They admitted, quickly pulling out their phone and checking for a good recipe. After a few moments of searching, they looked back up, giving a grin. “Good thing you asked, apparently it’s sugar, it all gets heated before baked, and we need corn starch to thicken up the filling.” With a little sigh, they moved to get a new pot for the filling and moved it over to the counter for Owen to fill. “I truly expected the pie to be easy – but apparently there’s a little more to piemaking than I figured.”

A soft and fond smile made its way onto his lips as he watched Sages hands. "I'll look into more accessible options. Promise." He replied, a gentle look still staying on his face. Having people care was still such a strange thing to him, even after all these years of being in a family. There was some scars that remained from his time in foster care, and having those in his life that truly cared about him, what happened to him, was one of those. Something he struggled to wrap his mind around from time to time. He didn't have that in those years he spent bouncing from home to home for a few years. But if him having more accessibility in his place gave Sage a peace of mind, Owen saw no harm in doing so. And really, it was probably something he needed for himself after all. Making a mental note to get searching for things tonight or tomorrow.

Owen watched as Sage placed the pan into the oven, his eyes roaming over the food that was currently everywhere. The fact they had managed to make all of this, well, Sage more so than him, was pretty impressive. And he was even more excited to sit down with them and have a nice meal, to taste what they had been working on for the last hour or so now. And he knew that moments like these were indeed what he wanted more of. He didn't need crazy nights out or going to bars. Maybe it was because he was getting older but the simple little things like this meant more to him than anything else. This is what he cherished and what he hoped him and Sage could have more time of.

There was no stopping the small sound of protest as Sage took her hand back so they could sign once more. The smile easily settling back onto his features, nodding along as he kept his eyes on their hands. "Exactly- I think they would go so well together. And it's something different, not just your every day apple pie." Laughing some as he watched Sage moved towards the fridge but kept their eyes on him. A move he knew all too well, he was constantly doing that, especially around Sage. Though weeks ago he had told himself it was simply because he didn't want to miss anything that was being said. But now, Owen knew the reality of it, for him at least, all those weeks ago had simply been because he didn't want to take his eyes off of them,

The kisses against his cheeks made Owen beam. Every kiss sent his heart soaring in the best way possible. And he found himself craving a constant stream of kisses and touches, any kind of contact that he could get from Sage. "Noted. I'll fight off the bees for you." Though mentally made a note to keep epipens for both of them in his backpack, where he also kept his overly filled first aid kit at all times too. The nurse in him just couldn't escape. As he brought his hands up, Owen backtracked the smallest bit. "But really- I never thought I could have fun cooking. It always stresses me out-" He made a slight face at the admittance. "But this has been so fun, the best time I've ever had cooking, and I swear, I could do this every day with you." Another hint of red across his cheeks though he closed the small space between them now and placed a kiss to the corner of Sage's mouth. "I have an overnight shift tomorrow but the following day- If you want to, I mean- We should do brunch. I can offer up my place to make a mess in." He grinned, also wanting her to finally get the chance to meet Lady as well. That and after having been in their place, Owen wanted to show them his as well. Wanted her to pick out a favorite spot on the couch or in a chair, a place that they could claim as their own. There was just something so deep and personal about being in each other's places and having them become like their own.

"On it." He beamed, placing a quick kiss to their forehead before he moved, grabbing the berries, and moving over to the sink. The more time he spent cooking with Sage, the more confident he was feeling, like he wouldn't make a total mess of things. And he was feeling more at ease moving around their place as well- which was such a welcoming feeling for him. As he worked on washing the berries, Owen looked up and over at Sage, wiggling his eyebrows some at them, laughing as he did so. Trying to remember when he had least felt so at ease, when the last time he was truly himself around someone that wasn't Sage. With the berries washed, Owen brought them back over to the counter, wiggling his hips as he walked over, wiping his hands on the apron that he was still wearing. "I'm going to get an ego from cooking with you, I can feel it now. I peel potatoes and wash berries one time and suddenly here I am thinking that hey, cooking isn't bad- maybe I could do this." Though he had a feeling that most of it was because he had Sage around as well. That it probably wouldn't go this well if he was cooking on his own.

Reaching for the can opener, he set to opening the fillings for Sage, and setting them off to the side once he was done. Crossing the small space between them, he watched as she cut the pie crust. "Is this where you get all fancy and make like-" He waved a hand as he searched for what he wanted to say. "A self portrait or something on top of it? Because let me tell you, I've watched enough of the British Baking Show to clearly know that's what supposed to go on top of it." Owen teased with a crunch of his nose and laugh before he nodded towards the berries and fillings. "Do I need to mix that all up and add sugar-" Having a very vague memory of something along those lines when it came to pie mix. "Before I put it into the crust?" Wanting to double check before he went ahead and just dumped it all in there and made a mess of it, especially when things had been going so well in the cooking department on his end.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Wildflower

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n I was planning on posting this tomorrow but I just couldn't wait. Join the struggle bus.

Azriel x reader / Eris x reader

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When a seed of doubt is planted, it flourishes under any conditions. That was an undying truth. That night, you fought as you'd never fought before. That was the first time even Azriel's shadows were cold toward you, and they were never cold toward you. They were always there for you. "I just don't get you anymore. You shut me out. I feel alone when I'm with you," you said, staring at Azriel's blank face for what felt like an eternity. But he remained stone cold, "I'm not mad that you went out to help Fayre's sisters. I'm mad that you didn't think about telling me."

You knew well that the whole house could hear you. A part of you wanted them to. Maybe someone would finally realize that you were drowning. When you finally did break the silence of the man you loved, you hoped you hadn't. "Nesta is Cassian's mate. He felt it today", you two were done with the second round of face-to-face screaming, well in reality you did most of the screaming, and were now sat in different parts of the shared room. "Well, good for him. How come this is important now? ", "It's just... three sisters and three brothers. Two already mated", at that, you couldn't suppress a laugh, "Tell me that you're joking, Azriel", but he sat as firmly as before, looking through you. He was deeply lost inside his mind, you could tell. After years, you could tell when he was down under. And he was down under bad. 

"So it's the third bitch's bed that you checked out then?", you laughed but Azriel wasn't too keen on it, "Don't call her that", you gritted your teeth as you stood up, "Oh, you're even defending her now", "She's a decent woman. She doesn't deserve your snarl just because you're an insecure creature," you stilled at his words. Azriel had never used your fear against you. Fear of losing him to some other. The truth was that you had given him everything, and he had your fragile heart in his hands. And he's been tossing it everything but gently lately.

You felt pathetic as you cried for him not to go afterward. To not leave you. That you were sorry. That you were just tired. And Azriel's words did well to calm your inner fear. The words were just the ones you wanted to hear, but something lingered. Something that weighed on you two for a while. You both felt it. You were alone together. Together but alone. Even if you slithered back into bed together, you could tell that sex was just a bandage you two used to smother things over.

The fact that no one was mad was another red flag the next morning. Rhys greeted you with a smile. Suggesting that you two should have breakfast separately from everyone else. "Is everything with you and Az okay?", he had asked shortly after you finished the food. "Yeah, just a heated disagreement. We're perfectly fine now," and if he couldn't tell that you were lying, then you were sure that he had a nice inside scoop on the argument from Asriel himself.

"I'm sorry for being harsh on you lately," you wanted to intrude, but your brother lifted his hand ever so slightly, "It's taken a toll on you. You're my family, and I neglected you", taking a hold of his hand you looked him in the eyes. "I understand; you have it pretty rough. I don't mind being on the back burner for a bit if it helps", Rhy's eyes were sad still. You knew he probably blamed himself for your fight with Azriel and the fact that you two were falling apart. He was always supportive of your relationship with the shadow singer.

"I love you, Y/N/N", you moved to lean into his embrace, "I love you too, grumpy pants". Rhys swiftly moves to tickle your side, making you let out a giggle, and a smile as big as yours appears on his face. "I got you this also," he said,  pulling out a little bottle, and you know instantly what it is. Your childhood pain remedy. The cure for the high lord's children's illness. A lovely blue bottle.

"I thought it would take the edge off. Let you sleep it off", "Thank you, but no." Yet Rhys didn't ease off. You swiftly stood up, taking the bottle from him. "I'll inform you when I'll take it," you reasoned. Even if you knew there was no way you'd take it, you had to give him hope to get him off your head for now. It reminded you too much of your father. The sick things he did to hide you away from the world, from your own family. 

You saw Azriel just as you were coming back to the house. Rhys was still by your side as you sped up a little to wrap your hands around Azriel's tall frame. He returned the gesture only after greeting Rhys. Their gaze lingered but you chose to ignore it. Oblivious. Just be oblivious. "Hey. Where have you been?", you asked him ever so gently. Leaning in to kiss him as you were once again hit with the strong scent of another female. Biting on the inside of your cheek, you smiled at him anyway. He left shortly after you fell asleep last night. You felt him wiggling out of your embrace. Leaving plenty of space for your thoughts to linger.

"Cassina had my hands full all morning. Sometimes I think he takes pleasure in torturing me", you hummed at his response, still clinging to him but that didn't last long. He unwrapped your arms from around his torso, telling you that he wanted to take a shower before a meeting with Rhys, and with another kiss, he was gone. You felt your eyes starting to burn as he walked away. Not here, not now, you told yourself. Don't give them the satisfaction of seeing you like this. Looking at the potion in your hands, you didn't even notice Cassian walking your way.

That big smile of his was probably brighter than the sun today. How did he always seem to be in such a good mood that you were unaware of? "By any chance, you've seen Azriel? Fucker disappeared into the thin air," he muttered into the embrace, and you felt the taste of blood in your mouth as you bit through your flesh. "Nope, looking for him myself. If you find him, tell him I said hello".

You decided to walk down the city street after that. Thank goodness Cassian never questioned anything and simply let you go. You needed to be alone for a bit or to be in the company of somebody who wasn't in the inner circle. You found yourself at Madja's clinic, just watching her help out citizens. Jumping in to help yourself at times. You were helping her clean up after the day's work when you remembered the bottle in your pocket.

"Utilize it, will you," you were never a fan of them as a kid. Well, you were only given them while you were little and when the whole fiasco with Eris happened. But those times were enough to make you go stiff at the sight of them, "Oh, dear, I hope you didn't drink that," your entire body froze, "Why not?" "This is a strong sedative. We only make them for special purposes, and the individual on them needs to be closely monitored. It knocks you out mentally", gaps in your memory, you thought. Maybe that's the reason for it. They wanted to keep you calmer after everything and overused it by accident.

"Would it wipe out one's memory if overused?", the healer shook her head, "Temporary loss of memory maybe, but it's unlikely", well then, you thought, here goes my hope of any clarity. Any bit of hope to unravel this piled-up mess. "While you are at it, would you mind bringing this back to Rhys?", Madja handed you a pouch that, for some reason, she was handling carefully. "What's that?", "Ah, some mixture of Fea bane", she said in such a casual voice as if she had done that for ages. As if this request by your brother didn't weird her out. What's high lords need of this world be? Rhys has other ways of controlling and dealing with his enemies. Unless he's trying to buy it all so no one else can.

"Why would Rhys need that?", "I don't question my high lord, he mentioned a need to keep someone at bay. It's not a first-time thing, child", of course, it's not. Droopy after tea. His eyes big like crows watching you as you slumped down on your bed or sofa after tea with him. No, maybe it was a coincidence. He wouldn't. Your Rhys. When you were little, he vowed that he loved you more than life itself. What changed? 

Leaving behind the bag, you stumbled out of the clinic. Bracing yourself against the corner of the building. The ones passing by offered you a sympathetic look here and there that you tried to return. They were your people as well. Once were. Yet you felt so out of place all of a sudden. Blinking a couple of times, you could only think about one thing and one place. Where else would you go? You simply had no other place to go.

"Eris!", you barked as you stormed into his cabin as if you owned it. "Eris!", your voice echoed through the empty room. You began your search for the same amber-colored bottle that the male of the Autumn Court had the last time you were here, ripping the shelving unit doors open one by one. Surely a genuine glass of liquor would help the case. At least take the edge off of it. One by one, you looked through every nook and cranny, but it's like fate decided to toy with you just a little bit more.

"Where on the cauldron of love would you keep such things?", you muttered to yourself, angry tears picking up at the corner of your eyes. "May I know what's the reason behind you being here?", you turned towards the voice so quickly that you didn't notice the door above you, resulting in you banging the top of your head against it. Your hand immediately went to rest on top of the painful area.

"How bloody clumsy can you be? You'll wreck the whole place up", Eris's voice was harsh and cold. You couldn't blame him; if you were to find someone like that in your room, you would probably have them hanging by the throat of the balcony at the house of the wind. But his harsh voice sent you down on your knees. You were so done with today. You bit back at yourself as you felt the little droplets fall down your cheeks, so much for keeping the tears to yourself. "Did you hit it that hard?", you felt Eris's hand on top of yours, gently lifting it so he could see if there was a wound that would need to be treated. He must have crossed the room at the sight of your first tears. Your lower lip quivered as you met his eyes.

Worry flashed through them. What a strange emotion to see on his face, you thought; it almost made his face look unfamiliar. He never expressed such emotion, and yet here it was. You were seeing them with your own two eyes. "You need to tell me what's all this about, sweetie," Eris sank to the floor beside you. "From the look on your face, I would say that the world is ending". You wanted to chuckle or at least grin at him, but you couldn't. Your brain was going into overdrive. Nothing made sense, and for some unknown reason, every single part of your body was calling for Eris. Your instincts told you to run to him out of everyone.

"What if everything's a lie?", you muttered, making Eris frown. "Is this a riddle, because I hate to disappoint you. I've never been good at them," you only shook your head. "I think Rhys has been poisoning me—adding Fea bane and whatnot to my food and drinks to keep me under his control—and I," a lump in your throat thickened, and you nearly choked on your own words. You felt a hand on your back, drawing patterns slowly to keep you calm enough to finish your story. Familiar - your body sang to you.

"And... Azriel...", Eris stiffened at the name of the shadow singer. The two were never friends. Eris loved to tease Azriel because he knew that his actions and words affected the ever-so-cold male, and Azriel never had the patience to stand by. "He's been coming home reeking of different females. He denies it, but I know... and he keeps on going about how he wants to find his mate, but...", you ripped parts of the sleeves that were covering your arms off. Revealing something that you swore to never show Eris, "He doesn't even want to wait for me to get these off so we could see if we're not mates."

You felt Eris's whole body run cold as if the fire that warmed him from within had vanished at the sight of your hands. You knew they were ugly, but you never thought someone would be affected that way. Feeling small and fragile, you moved them closer to your chest, lowering your head. "You... they are still on your hands?", "Well, you see them, don't you?", you bite back as another wave of shame washes over you. "But I thought, Rhys, he had taken them off. I thought he had a long time ago," "He doesn't know how, he's been trying," but Eris's expression changed completely as he shook his head slowly. He knew something. You could tell that he did. He knew something you didn't.

"Eris," you pleaded, "What is it?", running his hands through his thick hair, he turned away from you for a moment before facing you again. "You won't believe me anyways", but you shook your head, "No, you don't get to leave me with a scrap, tell me! I demand it!". You two are facing each other now. Direct confrontation. The hesitation was all you could sense. It was dripping off him. As if he was scared. Scared that whatever he was going to tell you was going to break you completely. "Rhysand has enough power to take them off himself. They yelled to magic," you backed away from him slightly, saying, "No, he tried everything. He got Helion involved. They tried it all."

Eris came to reach for you, but you only backed away more as your fingers threaded through your own hair. "Y/N, Helion made them. He would need to only blink, and they would be off your hands.", "No, you're lying. You're just saying things." In the frenzy that overtook you, you didn't even notice as your back hit the table that held different mixtures that banished healers must have been making. Turning, you lashed your hands through them all. Whipping the table clean with a scream from deep inside you. Windows rattled. Then an overwhelming amount of fear hit you, making the whole room spin. Eris was talking, but you could barely make out the words he was saying. In reality, you didn't want to listen. You were tired of listening. Clenching your fists like the last time you closed your eyes. Bring me to the liars you told yourself; I want to see their faces as I shatter their world to pieces.

********************************

Taglist:  @highlady-ofillyria @starrstrucked @lahoete @esposadomd @percyjacksonspeen @powerfulpantera @bionic-donut @azzydaddy @marigold-morelli @meritxellao @mis-lil-red @piceous21 @atz-diary @shamelessdonutkryptonite @baebeepeach @sarai-ibn-la-ahad

[kittttycakes]

take a bite of my heart tonight

summary: She would love him, in dreams or nightmares, in whatever form he chose to take. She would love them both. She always did like the story of Little Red Riding Hood, perhaps a bit too much. 

rating: M

contents: Morpheus x reader x Hob Gadling, she/her reader, third person POV, no use of Y/N, slightly dark fantasy, emphasis on the Lord of Nightmares aspect, a little bit of inhuman Morpheus, adrenaline as an aphrodisiac, soft and loving smut, 1.7k

notes: written for my promptober 2022 self-challenge - “I think I’m becoming more of a hungry animal the more I see you. I want to eat you whole.” 

She can’t remember the last time she truly ran: legs pumping, arms in motion, heart pounding in time with the thud of her feet. She must have been a child, playing any one of a number of games, laughing as she ran, drawing on a seemingly inexhaustible supply of energy.

This is nothing like when she was young. 

She is flagging already, lungs burning, legs aching, but she cannot stop, she cannot slow, because what she had hoped was only one in pursuit of her is two. She tries to speed up, to draw from the well that existed when she was a child but that seems to have disappeared long since, and she nearly stumbles, long roots snaking across the ground to appear suddenly in front of her. She veers to the left, the debris of the forest floor somehow never cutting her, although her shoes were lost long ago to those clever tendrils. 

Something at the corner of her eye catches her attention: a flash of white, the bark of the birch tree in stark contrast to the trees around it, and if she could spare the breath, she would scream, not in fear, but in sheer frustration. She’s seen that tree before, taller than its brothers, branches like arms twisting up and out. She is going in circles. This is all, in the end, a game to them, one she knows deep in her heart she will lose. 

There is a voice in the back of her mind, nudging, insistent, reminding her of a conversation days ago, of the way to make an end now. It is her choice, always her choice. 

She pushes the thought away, forcing herself to keep moving, shifting back to the middle of the path, even as she catches a glimpse of movement to her right. Her heart stutters, her traitorous, rabbit heart, knowing that if she can see him, it’s because he wants her to. He wants her to know that he could catch her at any time, that he is simply driving her to the point of collapse, until she yields and can go no further, keeping her exactly where he wants her, the two of them waiting for him. 

She has not seen the second who pursues her, but she does not need to. He is the wind on the back of her neck, warm as the breath of a lover; he is the rustle of the leaves around her, whispering her name; he is the pull of the thorns at her dress but never at her skin; he is the moon and all the stars above in an ink black sky, each point of light the heavy weight of an eye upon her. 

She could bend. She could fall to her knees among the leaves and let the man running alongside her catch her up in his arms, carry her back to him, let them both win. Or—

She breaks left, crashing through the thorns and the grasping branches, twigs like hands in her hair, brushing her face, clutching at her skirts. She leaves scraps of fabric behind, trailing white like flags, surrendering herself to the forest. There is no real plan: she can’t outrun him, she can’t hide, but she can refuse to be captured so easily. 

If she could only make it to the birch in the center, there is something in her mind telling her that she would be safe. This thought raises a mild alarm: what does she intend to do, climb the tree and allow herself to be cornered like a fox, hound hot on her heels, baying for blood? She pushes it away and gives in, one final push of energy that she knows she will not be able to pull on again, taking her deeper into the trees, until she reaches the center, until she throws herself against the birch itself, clinging with both arms, as if it is a sanctuary, haunted or holy. 

For a moment, she is lost to the hitch of her own breath, the thunder of her heart, the fight to remain upright as her legs tremble, finally still. She does not remember closing her eyes, but now that she has, she cannot bear to open them again, not until she knows.

There is a crunch of leaves behind her. The bark beneath her arms is warm, smooth, soft as skin. She opens her eyes. There is not enough air in her lungs to scream. Instead, she stares, lips parted, eyes wide, at the man whose arms are now around her, folding her into him as easily as a rabbit is caught in a snare.

“The break into the trees was unexpected,” Hob’s voice says from behind her. She lets herself go, a marionette with strings cut, knowing that the arms around her will hold her up. She wants to turn, to look at him, to see him fully, but she is caught instead by Morpheus’s eyes on her own, pinning her there as surely as his arms around her. He is taller, here, than she has ever yet seen him, something more and less than human. 

Hob continues, casual, conversational, as though he had spent his time taking a leisurely walk through the woods. “I thought I’d have to run you there myself, but you did the work for me.” 

The full weight of just how they had both toyed with her, conspiring together, settles on her like a shroud, both light as linen and suffocating in the knowledge that it would have always come to this. She feels him step behind her, the soft heat of him against her back nearly unbearable as a cold sweat dries against her skin. 

“You tricked me,” she says softly, breathless still, although the reason for this is shifting as rapidly as the beat of her heart, caught somewhere between terror and something unnamable and soft: they will always catch her, find her, want her. 

“Tricked you?” Morpheus says slowly, and oh, his voice like this—darker, richer, impossibly deeper. “Did I not deliver what was promised? Did I not give you what you asked for?”

Her own voice, carried by the wind, echoes around her: “Lord of Dreams and Nightmares, but you’ve only ever shown me the dreams…I could handle it, you know. A nightmare…Show me what it’s like. Show me that part of you…Let me love you anyway, in every form…in every way…”

“Did I not terrify you, beloved?” 

She is watching his mouth, the shape of his lips, the teeth behind them that are so infinitesimally sharper than they usually are that she almost did not notice, and would not have, if not for the adrenaline coursing through her veins. 

“You did. Both of you.” 

“And would you still have me? Have the two of us.” 

She is sure he can hear the pounding of her heart, battering itself against the cage of her ribs. “I would.” 

When he kisses her, it is with infinite care, so soft that it leaves her head spinning, even as Hob’s arm comes around her waist, drawing her back to him as well, his mouth at her neck, with just a hint of too sharp teeth. Morpheus’s teeth graze her lower lip, and she thinks, with shocking clarity: I would let them devour me whole.

When she opens her eyes again, her world has shifted, and she reaches out with shaking hands to acclimate herself again. One hand rests on Morpheus’s shoulder, once again the same in form and shape as she has come to know him, as he moves over her. His voice in her ear, low and insistent: let me, do you want me, tell me you feel the same and she does. She finds her voice, a soft and insistent, “Yes, please, yes,” as she registers that Hob is behind her, letting her lay propped against his chest, one hand holding hers, his other arm keeping her close to him as he speaks softly in her ear, a steady stream of love and praise as adrenaline continues to crash through her in waves. 

They are in a bed, she thinks dimly, although she can’t tell where. For a moment, she thinks they may still be in the forest, the sky and stars above her, but it is only Morpheus’s eyes, watching her face as he asks one last time if she’s sure, if she wants this, an unspoken question hanging between them as she surges up to kiss him, her lips brushing his as she answers, “I want you.” He sinks into her slowly and, between the two of them, she feels whole, as if this is how it always should be, the three of them, together, always, in all forms, in all shapes. 

The only word for it is worship: there is devotion in every touch, in every movement. She loses time, floating between them, letting them move her, going willingly each time. They can’t take more than she’s willing to give, not when she would give them both everything. When she comes, it is with both of their names on her lips.

After, Hob carries her to the waiting bath, big enough for the three of them and more besides. Still in the Dreaming, then, she thinks dimly, and is glad of it, knowing she will wake up well rested beside Hob in their own bed in the morning, getting all of the benefit and none of the consequences. She spares a moment to briefly mourn the loss of the rather impressive set of marks at her neck and shoulders, unable to tell who left which and where as she sinks into the water, eyes slipping closed. 

“Next time — ” Hob begins, and she sends a wave of perfumed water splashing towards him as he joins her. He laughs and continues, undeterred, “Next time, I get to experience that. Look at you, I’ve never seen you look quite that happy.” 

She hums thoughtfully as Morpheus slips in behind her, his arms around her. She takes this as the very rare gift that it is and leans into him, her head on his shoulder, her face tucked neatly against his neck. “Next time,” she counters. “I’ll be a siren, and I can lure you down into the depths below. And you,” she says, looking up at Morpheus, “You can be the sea.” 

“Perhaps,” he says, with a small, rare smile, as he presses a kiss to the top of her head. As if he wouldn’t give her anything she asked. As if the three of them don’t know it to be true. 

[ghostbeam]

you saw me start to believe for the first time | Katsuki Bakugou

“Bakugou.” You breathe. He lifts his head up. “I like you too.”

“That’s good.” He nods, then. You let out a laugh at his reaction. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You nod, leaning in.

He tastes like the water from the lake and the celery he brought for the two of you. You think you might have moaned his name into his mouth, but the kiss is too good for you to dwell on that. When the two of you finally pull away from each other, you're blinded by a bright white light shining on the two of you.

Notes: I wrote this so fast. It’s super inspired by Mine by Taylor swift lmao. I have a whole playlist of her songs that remind me of Bakugou ummmmm yeah. It’s honestly super self indulgent. Hope u enjoy! Please be kind :) (title from mine by Taylor swift)

Warnings: female reader, some angst :)

Words: 2.5k

You usually hate closing. The winter months make the sun set sooner, makes the nights longer.The lack of daytime tells your brain that you should be home, even when you have at least an hour left at work. It’s always you, the cook, and maybe a few stragglers left in the restaurant by the time you have to close. 

You usually hate closing, but the attractive blond nursing a cup of coffee at the counter has made staying this late not so bad. 

He looks tired, you notice. You only heard him talk when he ordered the coffee in his hands, his voice gruff and a little drowsy. He’s wearing a sweatshirt over what looks to be a hero costume, so you assume he’s just gotten off patrol. Around closing, you make your way back over to him. 

“We’re closing in a few minutes. Is there anything else I can get you?” You ask him. When he looks up at you, his pretty red eyes look you up and down, before he shakes his head. 

“No thanks.” He says, reaching into his pocket to pay for the coffee. You turn around to leave, when he stops you, “Actually. Can I get your number?”

You pause. Had you heard that right? The guy you had been eyeing all night wanted your number. You almost couldn’t believe it. 

“You–what? Why?” You ask him. He chuckles. 

“Why? What kind of question is that?” He asks, “I think you’re cute. I wanna take you out.”

And even though your brain is screaming at you to say no. Even though a lifetime of failed relationships flashed through your mind, you give him your number. You don’t know why you ever bother with things like this when it never lasts, but you want to believe in the young hero at the counter. 

His name is Katsuki Bakugou, and he’s a pro hero working under the Endeavor agency. You learn a bit about him through texts, how he hopes to start an agency with his best friend, how he’s certain he’ll be the number one hero in the next few years, how he wants to take you hiking on your first date. 

So far there are no red flags. Bakugou is a gentleman. He’s attentive, and he seems genuinely interested in you, but if past relationships have taught you anything, it’s that the person you know now is never the same person when they leave you. 

…

“Why isn’t your door locked?” You hear Bakugou’s voice in your living room as he closes your door. You walk in, hopping on one foot as you put on the other hiking boot that you bought for this specific occasion. “That’s dangerous, you know.” 

“I just unlocked it when you texted me you were here.” You tell him, rolling your eyes a bit. Once you’ve stepped into your boots fully, you sit down in a chair to tie them, but Bakugou has beaten you to it. “Oh, um, thanks.”

“No problem.” He nods, and you turn away to try and hide the bashful expression that falls over your face.

“I don’t know how well this is going to go. I’m not really an athletic person.” You warn him.

“It’s really not that difficult.” He shrugs. He holds a hand out to you to help you from the chair. 

“Maybe to you, Mr. pro-hero, but I’m just a person!” You protest. He shakes his head at you. 

“I’m a person too, dumbass.” You grab the backpack you packed at your kitchen counter, following Bakugou out the door and locking it behind you.  

“A really strong person. Who fights villains.” You tell him. 

“We’ll I won’t argue with that.” He shrugs. 

Bakugou drives the two of you to a small mountain half an hour away from the city. The hike isn’t all that difficult, but you still get a good workout. You’re sweating by the time Bakugou takes you to a lake underneath a giant willow tree. 

“God, this is gorgeous.” You breathe. And it is. It’s just off the trail, not hidden at all. You can see the path from where you and Bakugou sit. He pulls out some food from his backpack, two sandwiches, some veggies, and two bottles of water. “This is the cutest thing ever.”

“Cute?” Bakugou asks, take aback by your choice of words. 

“Yeah. It’s cute. You packed us sandwiches like a mom.” You giggle. He sucks his teeth and nudges your shoulder with his own. 

“We just hiked a mile and a half. We need to eat.” He argues. You take a bite of your sandwich and lay your head on his shoulder.

“I’m just messing with you, Bakugou.” You tell him. “It’s just…nice. That’s all I’m saying. 

“Sorry. I don’t mean to be defensive. I need to work on that, I guess.”

“You aren’t. You don’t. I like it.” You say, “I mean, it’s not–I mean I was teasing you, so I get it.”

You can’t believe how nervous he makes you sometimes.

“Yeah okay.” He smirks at you, and you turn your face away, embarrassed. 

The two of you eat your lunch, talking about this and that. He tells you about work, the villains he runs into, how he doesn’t get the missions he wants, how late night patrolling is his least favorite type of work. You tell him more about yourself. You tell him about your classes, about the customers that stick out to you at work, how working late is also your least favorite type of work. Bakugou is really easy to talk to, and that scares you. 

“Do you wanna go swimming?” You hear him ask beside you after the both of you have finished your food. Bakugou doesn’t know why he says it. He honestly just wanted to spend more time with you. 

“Swimming? Are you crazy?” You ask him, but he’s already standing up and pulling his shirt over his head. 

“Probably.” He says. You try not to stare at him too much, but you can’t take your eyes off of his pecks and his impossibly tiny waist. You feel your cheeks heat up. He looks down at you, holding his hand out, “C’mon.”

“Okay.” You nod, even though you know you shouldn’t. Even though it’s getting dark. Even though there’s a clear view of the two of you in your underwear from where people walk on the trail. 

The water is freezing, and you wish that you never gave into the pressure. But Bakugou was right there, and he was in his boxers, and there was no way that you were going to just leave him hanging like that. And if you were being completely honest with yourself, you like the risk. 

“You okay?” He asks you, swimming closer. 

“Just cold.” You tell him. Feeling bold, you set your hands on his shoulders. Bakugou’s hands find your hips.  

“I’m not usually this stupid.” He sighs, “Believe it or not, I’ve got a pretty good head on my shoulders.”

“I believe you.” You nod at him, “You brought baby carrots.”

“You just–I can’t think straight around you.” He confesses and drops his head on your shoulder. 

“Is that good or bad?” You ask. You’re too afraid to tell him that you feel the same way.

“I don’t know. I kinda just don’t wanna fuck this up.” His head is still buried in your shoulder. He doesn’t know why it’s so easy to tell you these things. It should be harder, considering how much he likes you, but you’re easy to talk to. It’s one of the reasons he can’t let you slip through his fingers. 

“Bakugou.” You breathe. He lifts his head up. “I like you too.”

“That’s good.” He nods, then. You let out a laugh at his reaction. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You nod, leaning in. 

He tastes like the water from the lake and the celery he brought for the two of you. You think you might have moaned his name into his mouth, but the kiss is too good for you to dwell on that. When the two of you finally pull away from each other, you're blinded by a bright white light shining on the two of you. 

“What the hell are you kids doing?” The voice holding the flashlight calls out to the two of you. Bakugou pulls you from the water then, gathering your things and dragging you away from who you assumed to be a ranger of sorts.

“We’re so sorry!” You call out to the man, but Bakugou has the two of you halfway down the trail already. 

The two of you end up back in his car, still in your damp underwear, breathing heavily from all the running. And that was how you and Bakugou started dating. 

…

You and Katsuki have been together for two years, which is far longer than any relationship you had in the past. It was also the most serious relationship you’d ever had in your life. The two of you had things at each other’s apartments, a couple of drawers filled with your things, stuff in each other’s showers, the coffee creamer that you like. You were both saving up for a house together, which meant that Katsuki worked a lot more than he used to, and you hated it.

You thought it would be harder on him, being away from you for so long. In the past two years, Endeavor had started putting him on the missions he asked for. Katsuki began to move up in the charts and really make a name for himself. You were incredibly proud of him, but you wondered why he had no issue with leaving you for days at a time. 

“I’ve gotta stay late again tonight.” Katsuki’s voice comes through your phone, and you sigh, “I know. I know, baby. I’m sorry, but we’ve got a shit ton of paperwork from the bust today, and they want it finished tonight.”

He told you he’d be home on time tonight. You were already at his apartment. You were already waiting for your boyfriend to come home to you.  

“Yeah, okay, Katsuki.” You mutter. 

“Are you mad?” He asks. 

“Course not.” You try to mask the sadness in your voice, but Katsuki knows you better than anyone in the world, now.

“I’ll make it up to you.” He tries. 

“You always do.” You say, before hanging up the phone.

You fall asleep on the couch that night after a couple of glasses of wine, but the door to his apartment opening wakes you up. You listen to Katsuki take off his boots and try to be quiet as he strips himself of his gauntlents. You sit up, then.

“Baby, what are you doing up?” He asks. His voice is so soft that it almost makes you forget you were ever mad at him. 

“You woke me up.” You snap, standing up, pulling your blanket around your shoulders. 

“You’re mad.” He observes. 

“What gave it away?” You ask him, heading to the kitchen. 

“Probably the fact that you’re being a bitch.” He says. You snap your head his way. 

“Really?” You seethe. “I’m a bitch for missing my boyfriend?” 

“I didn’t mean that.” He sighs.

“You wouldn’t have said it, then.” 

“I say tons of things I don’t mean.” He argues, throwing his hands up in the air. 

“Yeah, like ‘I’ll be off work on time tonight.’” You bark. 

“You think I wanna work late? You think I like doing paperwork?” He walks towards you. 

“You sure seem like it.” You roll your eyes at him.

“What do you think I’m doing it for, huh? Don’t you want a house, a fucking life together?” He roars. 

“Do you?” You argue. You knew this would happen. You knew that at some point this would be all over. The good doesn’t last, and people always leave. 

 “Are you kidding? Of course, I do!” Katsuki’s voice cracks. “I don’t fucking get you. What do you want from me?”

“Nothing. I don’t want anything from you. Leave me the fuck alone.” You hiss, slipping your feet into your shoes at the door, and leaving. You don’t have any of your things, your purse, your keyes, but you don’t care. You’ll call someone to stay with for the night. You were too angry to stay with your boyfriend. 

Once you get out onto the sidewalk, you hear his voice a few yards behind you. He’s calling your name, a coat in his hands, jogging towards you. 

“The fuck is wrong with you?” He asks, “You’re gonna get sick!”

“Fuck off.” You grumble, turning around to walk away. 

“Stop it!” He growls. You turn back around to look at him.

“You stop it. Don’t drag this out. Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Just leave like the rest of them. Just tell me you don’t want me anymore, and leave.”

“Leave?” He breathes, “Why would I–I’m not fucking going anywhere. Are you stupid? I love you.”

“Katsuki.” You beg. 

“No. No, I’m never leaving you. Ever. This is it.” He cries. “I have been yours since you moaned my name in my mouth at the lake.”

“Katsuki.” You try again. He walks towards you, slinging your coat around your shoulders. 

“Shut up. Every time I look at you, it’s like I'm there. I’m freezing my ass off in a lake just to impress you. I know that this scares you. I know that you watched your parents’ relationship fall apart in front of you. But we’re not them. We’re not gonna make those mistakes.” He tells you. His hands are on your cheeks, and you can see both of your breaths in the cold. 

“You promise?” You ask him. 

“I promise, baby. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I’d do anything for you.” He wipes a tear that’s fallen down your face, “I’ll take time off. I’ll talk to Endeavor. I promise.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, pulling away from him and wiping your tears, “Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m a mess. I’m just–I don’t know. I just love you so much. Like I have never loved anyone how I love you, and it scares the hell out of me. 

“You don’t have to be scared with me.” He rests his forehead against yours. 

“I know.” You whisper.

“We’ll figure it out. We will.” He promises. “I’m sure of it. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.”

“What about being number one?” You insist. 

“More than being number one.” He says, his lips pressed against your temple.

“More?” You pull away from him. He nods. 

“You’re the most important thing in the world to me. So can you please get your ass inside before you catch a cold?” He pulls your coat tighter around you.

“Okay.” You nod, “If!”

“If what?” He rolls his eyes. 

“If you kiss me.” You grin.

“Well, I can do that.” He smirks, leaning in. 

And Katsuki kisses you.