#not for flavour or anything so i wonder if he’d have a bad time with it lol

[akkivee]

ok now I'm imagining kuukou hosting Hot Ones interviews with the rest of the hpmi cast

for reference, Hot Ones is a celebrity interview show where the guest has to answer questions while eating progressively hotter and hotter sauces on wings. It catches them off their gaurd a little bit and they respond more earnestly because their PR brain is off and all they can focus is on dying of spice and answering questions

Imagining him doing this to Jakurai in particular 🤣

KUUKOU WOULD HAVE A BLAST BEING THE HOT ONES HOST HE GETS TO EAT EXTREME FOOD AND LEARN ABOUT THE OTHERS WITHOUT SHARING SHIT ABOUT HIMSELF THATS HIS BRAND LOL

[luveline]

hotch sister idea-- convincing hotch to take you out to dinner with the whole team because you "want to properly meet his friends" (i'm a sucker for team dynamics) but then being shy and cute with spencer the entire time to the point that hotch notices and gets a tad protective...but ends with spencer getting her number or something

thank you for requesting 💌 —you attend a party with your older brother in a not so secret plight to see Dr. Reid. You fawn, Spencer flusters, and Hotch drinks a tad more than usual. fem, 2.3k

cw for mentions of past child abuse

The car is quiet besides the tread of the tires on asphalt. You click and unclick the clasp of your shoulder bag, checking for your purse, getting worried your purse isn’t in there, and checking again.

“If there’s something you want to ask me, you can ask me.”

You move your gaze to your brother. His quietness can make you nervous, a reflection of your father but with none of the cruelty. “I don’t want you to get mad at me if it’s stupid.”

“Well, I won’t. I promise.”

You know he won’t, but sometimes the fear remains. Even when you’re far from being a kid. “Do you remember when I got suspended for, um, disrespectful behaviour? My senior year?”

Aaron turns the wheel with care. “I do.”

“And we went for ice cream.”

“Yeah, honey, I remember.”

That’s the point you’re trying to make, maybe. That tenderness sewn into the middle of his sentence. If your dad knew you’d been suspended again he would’ve made you feel it. You remember the sinking sensation in your chest waiting for him to pick you up, having written the speech he’d give you in the car ride home in your head ten times over, the sting of his palm grazing your cheek before you’d even seen his hand. So you waited in a total violent panic, head rush, wondering if anything was worth anything, when Aaron arrived to pick you up.

How did you know? you’d asked.

I changed your emergency contact. I hope that’s okay.

“You asked me what I wanted and…”

What flavour did you want, honey? he’d asked. Honey, like he loved you, the only person in the whole world who’d bother asking. The only man who’d take you for ice cream at seventeen years old to cure a bad day.

“And you burst into tears,” Aaron says.

He’d sat down opposite you in his suit, torn from one of his trials, and you can’t remember anymore if he was an attorney or already in the FBI, but you can’t forget how he’d taken your wrists into his hands and asked you not to cry.

“When you took me home, Haley asked me if you’d upset me, and I didn’t know how to explain it so you said yes. And she shouted at you for a whole half hour.”

“Why are you thinking about this now?” he asks.

Maybe because college is over and you’re forced to move on. Aaron asked you to try hard and you have, but now you have your degree and you don’t know what to do with it, you’ll get a job, and then what?

“I’ve been thinking about… my love life.”

“Oh. And you have to talk about this with me?” he jokes.

“I don’t have anybody else.”

He tears his gaze from the windshield. “That’s not true.”

“But…”

He turns into the parking lot outside of Dan’s Fine Wine Bar and pulls into a tight space with ease. He hesitates before he flicks off the engine, turning to you with a smile. “You’ll always have me,” he says, “and we can talk about your love life. I want to. God knows you’ve heard enough about mine this last year.” You both grimace. “But if I have to listen one more time to you talking about Spencer–”

“You said you wouldn’t get mad!”

“Honey.” He takes off his seatbelt and opens the door. “I’m not mad. But imagine your younger sibling comes to you one day to tell you they have feelings for your employee and try to find some sympathy for me!”

He clambers out of the car. You rush after him, unbuckling your seatbelt and nearly smashing your door into the car next to you. The air outside is cold, and you didn’t bring a jacket even though Aaron told you to twice, so you can’t mention it aloud. “I don’t have feelings for him.”

“You have a crush. You’re too old for it.”

“I am not.”

He gestures for you to walk in front of him as he clicks the fob for the car and the doors lock automatically. “I don’t understand what this has to do with your suspension.”

You chew on your cheek. Neon from the wine bar mottles your skin as you pass under it and through the door, air quickly turned from cold to temperate, the smell of old rain replaced by carpeting and beer. When you lift your head to his gaze, he’s still waiting for your answer. “You told me things wouldn’t be that hard forever. I was just wondering when it’s safe to say you were right.”

He grins at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to give you a rough hug. “Right now. Be happy right now, honey.”

“There they are!” Penelope calls from a table near the back. Suddenly, Aaron’s entire team of work colleagues stand up where they’ve dominated a whole row of tables and booths alike to greet you. “Oh my gosh, I missed you!”

You met Derek a long long time ago, and JJ around the same time, but everybody else is basically new. College was busy and Aaron busier —there was hardly ever time to visit, and when you did it was to see him and Haley. Meeting his friends was somehow put off.

You’ve since been introduced to Emily and Spencer, so Aaron directs you to David Rossi first. That’s the main team done quickly. But then he has to introduce you to Anderson, Sweeney, Kelly, Cory, Davidson, etc. So many agents for one man’s birthday. Anyone would think Derek Morgan was a celebrity.

“Happy birthday!” you say, when you finally get a moment to speak.

Derek reaches over the table to hug you quickly. “Thank you, gorgeous. We’re thrilled you’re here.” He pulls back, elbowing Penelope lovingly. “Aren’t we, mama?”

Penelope squeals and jumps for you. “So thrilled!”

Aaron touches your back, as if to say, I’m here, before taking a seat opposite Rossi. You hear snippets of a conversation about whiskey and when, but you’re distracted, because suddenly Penelope’s forcing you to sit down in her vacated seat, smack bang between Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid.

Dr. Spencer Reid. “Hi,” you say quietly. Can’t help it. You remember how you’d reacted when you met him the week before last and wonder if it’s too late to pretend you’re cool —you’d gotten so worked up about him. He wrote a bunch of papers you had to read for your degree, some of the most sophisticated theory on elliptical math you’d ever read, and you’re supposed to act like he’s just a normal guy?

It doesn’t help that he’s model pretty. You’d never have thought of him as he is now over email, his huge brown eyes, pale skin, the flicking curl of his hair behind his ears. When he turns his head, he has indents on his nose from a pair of glasses you wish you’d seen. You clear your throat.

“Hi, Y/N, how are you?” Spencer asks.

“I’m gonna go get a drink now,” Aaron says. “What do you want?” he asks you.

“Um, anything. I don’t really wanna drink.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” he says with deliberateness.

You feel heat like a rash on your neck. He’s embarrassing you doing his dad routine.

“You look pretty,” Spencer says.

You hide your hands under your thighs. “You think so?”

“You look beautiful,” Penelope says from across the table.

“Didn’t inherit that Hotchner scowl,” Derek says with a grin, “I thought it came with the name.”

“I learned how to do it the day they signed the adoption certificate,” you nudge in, “I just keep it to myself. I think Aaron has it down.”

Everybody within hearing distance laughs at you, to your relief. To your left, Spencer’s shoe hits your heel.

“So weird to hear his real name,” Emily says, tipping her drink to the side, ice and sugar on the surface. “I thought for sure you’d have to call him Hotch too.”

You look around in surprise. “He can’t be that bad. Does he really frown so much?”

You’re told vehemently that your brother is a grump, which is something you were aware of, just not experienced in. Sure, he’s had his unhappy moments, no one can smile every second of the day, but if everyone is to be believed he’s the sternest man alive. Eventually things drift into storytelling. Aaron brings you your drink with a straw and a napkin wrapped around the base, and you find yourself listening to a graphic rehash of Derek’s first case with the BAU.

Spencer’s leg is a coal at your side.

Your self preservation runs out. “You don’t drink?” you ask, nodding to his glass bottle of coke.

“I– I never did. I never had the opportunity. I’ve never even been to a party.” He pauses. “I don’t know why I just told you that.”

“I didn’t go to parties either,” you say, overjoyed to find common ground so quickly.

“I mean, I was never invited, but highschool parties didn’t seem like my thing. And, you know, I was twelve.”

“You were twelve in highschool?”

He’s doing that thing you noticed the day you met, where his lips move before he’s ready to talk, his emotion clear. “You weren’t?” he asks, not quite smooth but enough to make you laugh suddenly.

“I wish! I could’ve been done with college years ago.” Your brows pinch together. “Wait, so did you go to college as a kid?”

“I mean, sort of.”

“What? No wonder you didn’t go to any parties, that must’ve been insane. When I was twelve I was still setting my Barbie’s up for dance parties. Aaron has a photo of me dressed up in mom’s old clothes.” You lean forward for a sip of your drink.

“Oh, don’t worry, there’s a photo of me just like that when I was twelve, too.”

You laugh so hard you almost choke.

A cup comes down hard somewhere behind your turned head.

“You okay?” Emily asks.

She wears a smirk you don’t understand, a joke you’ve missed. You peer past her to look to Aaron for advice and find him rather sullen, hand curled tightly around his drink. You try to give him a signal to ask if he’s alright, but it’s to no avail.

“I’m fine, sorry, just a joke.” You turn back to Spencer. “That’s adorable.”

You’re breathless talking to him. He must notice, but Spencer doesn’t say a word.

If someone asked you why he caught your attention, you’re not sure you know the answer. He’s pretty, undeniably, and it’s fascinating that you used his theory while you were in school, but fascination isn’t endless. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you. No ones ever given such a clear sense of awe; he gets stuck on you, his eyes tracing your cheek and your nose and your lips. It’s noticeable, but it isn’t unwanted. You keep coming back to his smile as he talks, the flash of his teeth.

“I honestly didn’t know Hotch had a sister,” Spencer says.

“He was keeping us apart for a reason,” you say insistently, “I just don’t know what that reason is yet. He must’ve known you were the Dr. Reid I’d been reading.”

“It makes it sound like you’re reading me,” Spencer laughs. “Like, my hands.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Do I want you to what?”

“To read your palm?”

“You know how?”

“No parties, remember?”

Spencer gives you his hand. He has nice hands, big but slim-fingered like a pianist’s, though if he plays isn’t something you know. You angle it flat careful, your thumbs to either side of his open palm. “What do you want to know?” you ask.

“What can you tell me?”

You hum gently. “You have your life line, your head line, your heart line– your love line.”

“What does that– that mean for me?”

You press your thumb to his mount Jupiter, a soft hill of his hand under one of his fingers where the heart line begins. “Your desire for love, and your capacity for it. See how deeply curved it is?” you ask, drawing along his heart line gently. “It means you’re warm, and loving. That you could have a great love.”

You look up, his hand held gently between yours. “But I could be really wrong. I haven’t done this in so long, I might just be making stuff up.”

You sound insecure to your own ears, cringing away from his hand, but Spencer ducks his head just a little to keep your gaze, and he smiles at you softly. “It’s okay. I like your reading, even if it’s wrong. Where did you learn how to do that?”

“Aaron would buy me any book I asked for growing up, he…”

Your brother, sitting only a few seats away, can’t find it in himself to regret that particular generosity even if the sight of you holding Spencer’s hand isn’t one he wants to see. It’s odd. You’re fully grown up, and it’s not like Aaron thinks Spencer would ever hurt you purposefully, but it’s hard to see anyways. He can admit to feeling like a father watching his daughter finding a first love; he can’t keep you forever and he doesn’t want to, but it’s still hard to watch as you descend into giggles that border on dizziness.

“This is a good thing,” Rossi says. “You’ll never have to worry about her being out past curfew.”

Aaron laughs, it’s funny, and then he knocks back his drink.

[queenkagamine]

VOCALOID MODULE GENERATOR SAVE MEEEE https://perchance.org/vocaloid-module-generator

I wanted to draw Len modules, so instead of doing my usual number randomizer and counting the headcanon list we have, I just did the shuffle shuffleee! Suxx bc it included t shirts so half the time it was a reroll, but I’m happy with the lens I drew for the date 🫡 you can pry my headcanoned versions out of my cold dead hands (and my husband’s too)

first we got the ol’… school outfit. I might be the only person that likes school outfit. I drew him in an alt that my husband likes :3. “I love his socks shghgngh mustard’s sock….” So I put him in the socks. Also, it’s hot out, it’s summery, I can see him eating a popsicle on the beach in it. (He doesn’t take off the shirt he’d rather die)

theeennn asymmetry :3. Not mine. Well. Sometimes when u make Len friends when Len was popular there’s some overlap. And you don’t wanna change anything. So you end up just having two of the same guy (ie my bebop = evil. Husband bebop = autistic. They’re bfs now smh). This one is his asymmetry! Mine is boring. Dead 😵! I love the hair covering eyes trope.. 🤤. I think he’s evil? Well. Not nice at least. I don’t know the full thing!! He’s just not a good person! And in a totally different plot than everyone else

LAST. THE GOAT. 🐐 🧒 GOAT BOY. BAD BOY HIMSELF. My hot take. Lencest is good bc everyone can look at the same thing and think of something different. Whenever I see lencest in the year 2024 and it’s like… the ‘classic’ popular ships from 2012(?) it breaks my heart. Where’s the headcanons. Where’s the rarepairs? Come on guys.. I need support… I bring this up bc starmine x strange dark is cool, but it’s like trickster and senbu. I don’t get it 🫡 I’d rather have meh lencest than no lencest at all so I’m not complaining but starmine didn’t even come out in the same game back in the day 😭 I wonder if the one stardark artist everyone likes jusy liked dark. And liked starmine. And went “yep. Good enough”. That’s like when I like a module from Mirai and a module from x and I know damn well they’ll never be together. I bet op cried tears when F2nd came out and all the old modules came back. ‘erm. I bring thing up bc I ship bad boy with starmine 🤓🔥. They both have warm pallets and they’re from the same game!! It’s like the “uwu soft boy” and the “evil edgy bad boy” (they’re both grown men trying to further carriers LMAO.) actually Starmine ain’t even soft? And bad boy isn’t edgy? They’re just guys 😭? Y’know when. You’re a vocaloid fan. And your opinion of things changes over the years. Your headcanons get more flavour as you get older? Middle school me thought 18 was old enougn for holy lancer 💀. Naw little me. That man is a burnt out 30+ year old who ruined his life. Get in line. But if I bully little me too much where will I steal my Len ships from…?

[ladynamida]

Hi all!

Happy @verladyweek Day 4! I've been working a story featuring two of the prompts for Day 4, Confession and "Except for your eyes, no blade can control me, no sharpened knife."

First I'd like to say another big thank you for the inspiration - the brain worms are so wriggly about this.

Second, this week has been so fun I don't want to ruin the vibes, so no one has to reblog this post.

Third, this story has become something larger and more personal to me than I originally intended. Some might say, extremely self-indulgent writing-as-therapy. I'm just saying "oops". It deals with some sensitive topics that I'm not sure I'll be confident in sharing widely. Not until I can do them justice at least. Either way, it won't be finished this week. 😔

But!

I'd still like to contribute by sharing a wip snippet or two! The snippet under the cut gives a flavour for the rest of the story. (I promise there are more upbeat moments amongst the angst I could share, but didnt want to mislead on the overall vibe). Let me know in the tags/asks/DMs.

Trigger warnings: depression, mental health crisis. If you're worried about the content but want to find out more, I'd be happy to respond via DM. Please take care of yourselves first and foremost 💙

Dante's voice was hoarse as he whispered, “I don’t know what to do.”

Okay, this did sound like it was shaping up to be some kind of crisis, and Lady did pride herself on her ability to salvage the best possible outcome from bad circumstances. Being thrust into world-threatening situations on a semi-regular basis and life-threatening situations practically every week did wonders to sharpen your disaster management skills. “Whatever it is, we’ll take care of it, that’s what we always do, right?” She gulped the rest of her coffee in one long draw, and dropped the cup from chest height into the waste paper basket. She retook her seat. “So what’s going on?”

“Nothing, and that’s the problem. Have you seen much of Vergil recently?”

She shakes her head, thinking. He had been missing in action recently, though she hadn’t really thought too much about it. He was weirdly quiet at the best of times, unless he was arguing with Dante or Nero, even then he was just as likely to storm out as he was to fight back. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d raised his voice, even when fighting. They’d had a few brief conversations after he and Dante returned from hell; about coffee, about the weather, about nothing significant. Just normal, everyday stuff. She didn’t really care for boundaries, but she didn’t particularly want to push his and cause the group any problems, so when he ignored her she ignored him right back. The implications of what Dante might be suggesting started to sink in. “Can’t say that I have. You think he’s up to something?”

A single, dry laugh. “Nah.”

She trusted his judgement, since no one knew Vergil better, and Dante had agreed to keep an eye on him. “Then what’s the problem?”

“He never does anything.”

She snorts, trying to keep the tone light despite her growing sense of dread. “Like drinking and going to strip-joints? Maybe he just has a better taste in hobbies than you.”

“No hobbies. You don’t get it. He doesn’t do anything, doesn’t go anywhere. He hasn’t left the shop in three weeks.”

She lowers her voice, realising he must be upstairs while they’re talking about him and not wanting to provoke any awkwardness should he hear. “Maybe he’s just doing his thing, reading or something. He’s always quiet.”

“Lady, he hasn’t left his room in nearly a week… not even to use the bathroom.”

Now, that shocked her. “So what, he’s just rotting in his own filth? That’s not like him.”

~ to be continued ~

“Nah, nothing like that. He’s not eating or drinking either, so there’s no mess. I’ve been in there, he’s just sat there on the floor like some kind of fucking zombie.”

Lady felt her face pale. She stayed quiet and still for a moment, letting the weight of Dante’s comment settle between them, as she racked her brains to try and work out how she could help them.

“Do you think he’s still sick?... Like V was?”

He sniffed, and bowed his head, his hair hiding his face. “Nah, I dunno, he looks normal. Can’t see any marks or anything.”

“Did something happen the last time he was down here?”

She could almost smell the guilt. “I don’t even know when that was. I don’t think so.”

“Okay.” She absentmindedly kicked her feet, slowly tapping her heel against the side of the desk. “And you’ve tried talking to him?” Silence, and a nod. “Well, maybe I’ll head up there and give it a try?” She stood and pulled her shorts down, making herself more presentable. She didn’t know why, but she felt slightly nervous. Dante she knew well, she had a pretty good handle on his moods and how he might react to her poking and prodding. Vergil… well, Vergil was a different animal.

[thewordworrier]

I've Been Having A Hard Time Adjusting

[Things are changing within the band and Shelly and Lux have a little bit of a heart to heart about it.]

Word Count: 6,196 words. Warning: Pregnancy talk. Notes: ~ Title from "This Is Me Trying" by Taylor Swift. ~ Lux is the gremlin brainchild of @robinrunsfiction though she's my second child too. ~ Lux is forever MyChem's drummer, kthx. ~ I was originally trying to write something cuter than this for Lux's birthday last week (which I otherwise did nothing for, sorry Lux sweetheart 🥺😭) but... This came out instead.

Setting: Danger Days Era. Maybe during the summer. If it’s August, she’s about 6 months or so. By this time, Shelly’s told the band (and Gerard, obviously) that she’s pregnant. The label and their families know and she’s definitely starting to show a fair bit at this point, though she’s self conscious about it so tries to wear looser clothing in an attempt to hide it for a bit longer. She’s thankful that her job is mostly behind the scenes, even though she’s married to the frontman of the band she works for, and is decently well known (and pretty well liked) amongst the fans - so she’s not completely worried about how the public (the fans) will take the news but… There’s always some bad voices.

Shelly was resting, taking her slightly larger body weight off of her feet for a little bit. She didn’t mind being pregnant - if anything she was super excited to be pregnant with Gerard’s (her husband!) child. She still couldn’t believe they were married sometimes. She had this wonderful man who loved her enough to stay with her, and wanted to be with her enough that he asked her to marry him! And now she was going to have his baby? And she had this group of friends who were more like family to her, who she loved and who loved her back just as much? And a career she was doing well in? Wild. It was all so… Almost insane. Her teenage self never would’ve believed that she was going to get everything she wanted like this. But she was so, so happy.

She was happy to be pregnant, but goodness, it was incredibly weird. Her size was obviously changing, as was her centre of gravity, apparently, and that was taking some getting used to. There were some things she was starting to struggle with, and she knew that list of things was going to get longer. Thankfully, the rest of the band, as well as Gerard, were always willing to help her if she needed it. Frank, already a father himself and the first of the guys to become one, was good at knowing when she needed help before she even asked for it. He knew what to look out for and seemed to be teaching Gerard as they went. She was grateful for that.

That’s why she’d been sent somewhere quiet to rest for a little bit. Gerard had noticed that she’d been looking a little worn out, had taken whatever she’d been holding out of her hands, and had tried to turn her towards the door. She’d resisted that a bit, of course.

“Go and rest, darling,” he’d said, seeing Frank nod in approval out of the corner of his eye. “You’re looking tired.”

“He’s right,” Frank chimed in. “You can’t wait until you’re exhausted now. You have to rest well before you hit that point.”

Shelly pouted at him. “I’m okay though.”

“No mama,” Gerard said quietly next to her ear. “Be a good girl, listen to me and go and rest.”

Even though he was unable to hear what Gerard had mumbled to Shelly, and also unable to hear her squeak of a response, Frank would’ve guessed the… Flavour of the words by the blush and the look on her face. He giggled a little.

“They’re right, Shell,” Ray said. “We’ve got this, you go and rest.”

“See?” Gerard said at a more normal volume. “Even Band Dad agrees. Don't make me get Lux involved when she and Mikey get back, because she will frogmarch you away.”

Shelly huffed a little bit, but ultimately she knew they were right. “Okay, okay. I’ll go.”

“Want me to walk you?”

Shelly shook her head before making sure that she had her phone. “I’m good, it’s not far.”

Gerard wrapped his arms around her for a few moments before giving her a little kiss. “Sure?”

“Mm hm.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Call me if you need anything, love.”

“You know I will.”

“Good girl,” he murmured again before clearing his throat softly. “Go on then, shoo.”

So, she’d done as she was told, taken herself off to go and rest for a bit. She’d headed back to their tour bus, grabbed one of her baby books and settled herself in the most comfortable spot that the rest of the band had made even more comfortable for her as she got bigger. They also made sure that it was easy for her to be able to get up on her own if she needed to because they were good like that. She’d not been reading for too long when she heard the familiar sound of the bus door opening. Instinctively, she hid the book and reached for her phone, just to see if she’d been messaged a warning that someone was coming to see her, and she’d just not heard it because she’d had her nose stuck in a book. But, no, no message.

“Shelly?” Lux called. “Are you here? Are you awake?”

“I’m here,” the blonde called from her spot, which was also a bit hidden from the entrance. That was a protection thing on Gerard’s part. “In my usual spot.”

Lux made her way over to the older woman and smiled when she saw her. “Hey.”

Shelly beamed up at the youngest member of the group. She often referred to Lux as her ‘youngest kitten’ or as her ‘Baby Cat’ - Shelly herself was Mama Cat after all, and she’d been called that before she’d even gotten married and before she’d even thought about getting pregnant. All because she referred to looking after them as “wrangling cats” once.

“Like wrangling naughty kittens,” she’d said.

“Does that make you Momma Cat then?” Frank had asked with a grin. “Or would you rather ‘Mommy’?”

Ray had promptly thrown something at him. “Don’t be gross.”

“Hey!” Frank had pouted before another lightbulb had gone on over his head. “Hey, Band Dad,” he pointed to Ray, then pointed to Shelly. “And Band Mom.”

Ray shook his head a little and Shelly had just giggled.

“Dude…” Ray had started.

“I don’t mind,” Shelly said softly. “I really don’t. Like I said, it’s like corralling children.”

“But you’re very cat-like,” Frank added. “I mean, you’re a Leo so it makes sense for you to be Mama Cat.”

“And I don’t mind that either, I promise,” Shelly had moved to pat the top of Frank’s head on her way past.

The nickname had kinda stuck for her that day. It took a little longer for Lux’s nickname to form and stick, and even then it had mostly been a sleepy slip of the tongue on Shelly’s part when they’d been sharing a room (and bed) one night. It had started as “littlest kitten” and, once Lux had been brave enough to admit to Shelly that she liked it, it had then morphed into “Baby Cat.” Nowadays, Shelly liked to use them both interchangeably and often.

“Are you okay?” Lux asked, looking at her. “Have you actually been resting or do I need to tell Gerard?”

Shelly pouted up at the taller girl. “I have been! I’ve been sitting here reading!”

Lux squinted at her for a moment before shrugging and smiling. “Okay. I believe you.”

“Let me guess,” Shelly shifted a bit in her comfortable nest. “Thousands wouldn’t, but you do.”

“Of course,” Lux stepped aside for a moment, out of Shelly’s eyeline before returning and offering the woman a bottle of her favourite soda and not only her favourite candy bar, but her favourite chips too.

“Oh my god I love you,” Shelly took them from her gently.

“I wasn’t sure if we had any left or if we needed to restock the bus,” Lux sat nearby. “But I figured extras wouldn’t hurt.”

Shelly wriggled happily for a moment before putting the snacks aside. “Thank you.”

“And I figured they could be a peace offering in case I woke you up,” Lux grinned at Shelly, who just giggled.

“Mm, I know I was told to rest, but I took that to mean, get off of my feet, not take a nap,” it was Shelly’s turn to grin a little bit. “Resting means not working, and technically I’m not so…”

“I think Gerard will allow it.”

“If only because he lets me get away with anything,” Shelly beamed as she thought about her husband.

Lux rolled her eyes playfully. “Disgusting.”

They both giggled for a moment before Shelly’s was cut off.

“Oh!”

Lux looked back at Shelly quickly. “You okay?”

Shelly huffed for a moment before rubbing her hand over her bump. “That… That was harder than normal, little one. Can you not do that? Until your dad has his face near you anyway.”

That last bit made Lux giggle, because she had seen something like that happen before, and it really had been quite funny. On the other hand… Hearing Shelly talk to her belly like that, her baby like that, just reminded Lux that things were changing.

“Baby Cat?” Shelly asked quietly after Lux had been silent for a few minutes - because that wasn’t like her in the slightest; on good days like this, when everyone was in a good mood, they had some time to themselves, Lux was normally bouncing around the walls.

“Lux?” Shelly tried again when she didn’t get an answer - instead the girl seemed to have spaced out a little bit. “Mercy!”

That got her attention and she whined in response. “Shelly! Whyyyy!?”

“You weren’t listening to me. You were vacationing.”

Lux stopped pouting at the use of her legal name and shook her head slightly. “I’m fine.”

“Hmm,” Shelly shifted her position a little. “I didn’t get as far as asking yet, but, you know I don’t believe you.”

“I am!”

Shelly raised an eyebrow. “Mer-”

“Mama Cat! Noooo!” Lux covered her face for a moment and huffed.

“I don’t believe you, Lux,” Shelly repeated, wincing a little. “Ooh little one, no please.”

“Are you okay?” Lux moved closer to Shelly. “You’re not in trouble?”

“Just the little one being too close,” Shelly patted her bump. “It’ll be fine when they settle down again and back away from kicking me in the sensitive spots.”

Lux just winced. “That sounds unpleasant.”

“Well,” Shelly hesitated for a moment, thinking about it before she nodded. “You know, you’re right. It’s not great. But, my body is doing a really incredible thing; there’s a lot going on in there. Baby is rearranging my insides, I think, that’s not gonna be comfortable. And, for the most part, I’m not doing too badly. I’ve heard about worse pregnancies.”

The drummer hummed and nodded. She knew Shelly would be honest like that.

“You’re still not gonna get me doing what you’re doing,” Lux gestured to Shelly’s bump. “It sounds horrifying.”

“Mm, I get what you mean. On paper, in layman's terms, it is fairly horrifying and a bit gross but,” Shelly patted her bump and a small, soft smile appeared on her face again. “I think it’s going to be worth it.”

Lux just wrinkled her nose a little and pulled a face.

Shelly giggled. “Babies aren’t for everyone, and that’s okay.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to meet yours!” Lux added quickly. “I’m just… They’re so small and delicate and…” She waved a hand. “Difficult?”

“Until they can communicate a bit better, it can be hard to look after them, if that’s what you mean?” Shelly tilted her head a little, smiling when Lux nodded. “Yeah, I get that too.”

“I’m not trying to offend you,” Lux mumbled, looking at her nails.

“Baby, it’s okay. I’m not offended.”

“I just have difficulty with words sometimes.”

“I know darling,” Shelly shifted over a little bit before holding her arms out. “C’mere.”

Not one to ever pass up a hug from Shelly (even though she was pregnant and that was a bit weird to her), Lux scurried over, settled next to Shelly and cuddled up with her. She rested her head on Shelly’s collarbone and hummed happily when Shelly cuddled her close and kissed the top of her head.

“Now,” Shelly said softly, holding Lux a little tighter. “Are you gonna tell Mama Cat what’s wrong?”

Lux huffed a little bit and whined softly against Shelly. “Mama Cat… I’m fine.”

“I don’t think you are sweetheart,” Shelly kissed the top of Lux’s head. “I’m not gonna be mad. Or offended.”

Lux fell quiet, wondering if she should speak up, if Shelly would truly not get mad or anything. If this had been about anything else then yeah, she believed that Shelly wouldn’t get mad or offended. But…

Shelly squeaked very softly as the baby in her belly shifted and kicked close to where Lux was settled up against her. Lux must’ve felt the baby kick, because Shelly heard her huff a bit and the drummer shifted away from her stomach.

“Lux?”

“Mm?”

“Is it about the baby?”

Lux glanced up at the blonde before straightening up and moving away a bit.

“Mercy.”

“Shelly!” Lux folded her arms and huffed again. “Stop bringing out the government name.”

“I’ll bring out the full name if I need to,” Shelly straightened up and shuffled so she was sitting next to Lux properly. She paused before resting her hand on Lux’s knee. “Talk to me Lux.”

“I…” Lux hesitated. “I need you to promise me that you won’t hate me. Or if you do, you won’t do it to my face.”

Shelly frowned and shifted her body to face Lux before putting her hands on her friend to get the younger girl to turn towards her. “Honey. I couldn’t hate you.”

Lux stared at Shelly’s face for a moment. She really did look concerned about her. And Lux knew from Shelly’s track record, from their history over the last… However many years it had been, that Shelly really was a genuine human.

“Lux?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, really. It’s stupid and it’s selfish and it really doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does matter. We’re all allowed to be a little selfish sometimes. That’s not a bad thing.”

Lux fiddled with the hem of her top - normally she’d pick at her nails a little, but she was trying to stop that, (she’d last managed to have nice nails for when Shelly and Gerard had gotten married so she knew she could do it, but it was still an old habit she sometimes fell back to). She knew that Shelly would probably tut at her, and maybe scold her a bit if Lux kept doing it. Gently, of course, Shelly didn’t really have a naturally mean bone in her body. She got a bit vicious if someone came for those she loved but she wasn’t really mean for no reason. But it was that viciousness that Lux was a little worried about.

“Mercy,” Shelly repeated softly. “Sweetheart.”

Lux whimpered, both at the use of her full name and at the use of the term of endearment. Shelly’s tone of voice was also so soft, so gentle, so full of affection, it made Lux want to cry.

“It’s about…” Lux managed before she found herself having to swallow. “I… It’s about the baby.”

“Okay,” Shelly whispered. “What exactly about the baby?”

“I…” She chewed her lip for a moment. “I don’t want you to hate me. I don’t want you to misunderstand; you know I’m not good with words.”

Shelly gently lifted Lux’s chin. “Again, sweetheart, I couldn’t hate you. Say it however you need and we’ll work through it together until we pin down exactly what you mean.”

Lux’s expression softened. Shelly had always been so good like that.

“So what is it about the baby?”

“I… I am really happy for you! And Gerard!” Lux added quickly before she sighed softly, grateful when Shelly let her chin go to take her hands instead. “I really am! You two are built for this whole apple pie American life, you know? And you’re gonna be such a great mom Shell! A real mom!”

Shelly frowned at that last bit. She knew that technically Lux was right, Shelly hadn’t been a ‘real’ mother until she’d gotten pregnant, but… For some reason she didn’t like that. She didn’t know why.

“You’ll have a real baby,” Lux continued softly. “A brand new littlest kitten, an Actual Baby Cat, and you’ll be a real Mama Cat.”

The blonde blinked rapidly at the drummer - all the pieces had fallen into place really quickly with those last few sentences.

“I think I know what this is about,” Shelly said quietly, giving Lux’s hands a little bit of a squeeze.

Lux glanced up, half expecting to see… Maybe a cross expression on Shelly’s face. Instead, Shelly just looked… Soft. And concerned. But definitely not mad. Her eyes dropped down to their hands again, just to see Shelly squeeze her hands before letting them go. She didn’t really have time to react to that before the blonde was pulling her close into a hug. She heard herself squeak, but she didn’t really protest to being pulled into a hug.

“I remember,” Shelly continued, kissing the top of Lux’s head. “Just as we were wrapping up the Revenge tours…”

Lux snuggled against Shelly a bit as she listened.

“I remember a little Miss Ma’am getting all caught up in her feelings because we assumed that she knew that we wanted to keep her.”

The drummer grumbled against Shelly a little bit. “Y’all weren’t that clear.”

“I know,” Shelly leant her cheek against the top of Lux’s head. “Your feelings were incredibly valid though sweetheart.”

Lux huffed out a soft; “I know!” and Shelly giggled.

“Anyway, I remember you mentioning something about being thrown away? Abandoned?”

“Mmm,” Lux clung onto Shelly’s top a little bit, a little surprised that she remembered that.

“Is that… Is that what’s happening here?” Shelly asked, cuddling Lux as close as her baby bump would allow. “You’re worried you’re just gonna get pushed aside?”

Lux’s response was just a bit of a soft whine.

“Mm, I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Everything’s gonna change, Shell,” Lux murmured against the older woman. “Like, there can’t be a baby on the tour bus, can there? And you’re not gonna want to leave your baby with a sitter and stay on the road with us. More to the point, Gerard’s not gonna want to be away from you and the baby for long. And it’s not like we can just get in someone to replace him, it would be a bit obvious.”

Shelly hummed, not really too sure what to say to that. Ultimately she decided that she might as well be honest.

“Well, yes, that’s true, I suppose. But, before we get to the squishy newborn bit, there’s gonna come a time where I can't fly anymore so I’ll have to step back from this job.”

“We don’t know how to do this without you now,” Lux whispered. “I don’t know how to do this without you.”

“Oh, sweetie…” Shelly was a bit touched by that, truthfully. “I’m sure I can make all the bookings and stuff from home, and y’all can still call me and stuff, I just won’t be able to travel as far. And I don’t think it’s going to be long - I’d have to check my calendar again, because I can’t remember dates at the moment, but I think there’s only a handful of shows after the baby's due date anyway. I’m only gonna be gone for a couple of months of the tour.”

“What about after that?”

“Hmn, well, I don’t know. It takes time to make a new record I suppose? Y’all have to be inspired first.”

Lux hummed and nodded slowly, just to show Shelly that she was listening.

“Just because I’m gonna be a mom, doesn’t mean I’m gonna just…” Shelly paused to think about it. “I’m not gonna abandon you, Mercy.”

Lux huffed at the legal name use again.

“I may not have birthed you,” Shelly shifted to make Lux look at her, cupping Lux’s face gently in her hands. “But you’re still gonna be my littlest. You’re still gonna be my Baby Cat. I’m not gonna stop loving you, I’m not gonna stop being in your life.”

She hummed and Shelly pulled her back into a hug.

“I’m gonna be busy, sure, but I’m not gonna abandon you, little love. I fought for you, remember? I’m not just gonna toss you aside.”

Lux sniffed a little bit.

“Why would I abandon my first favourite girl?” Shelly kissed the top of her head again.

“Because you’re maybe growing a new favourite girl,” Lux mumbled.

“Not necessarily, I might be having a boy.”

“A mini Gerard!” Lux exclaimed. “You’re gonna be so in love with him, you’re even gonna forget about the adult one!”

Shelly almost cackled and shook her head. “I don’t know about that… But, seriously, we don’t know what we’re having yet.”

“I know babies aren’t for me,” Lux said, quietly and almost cautiously. “But, if they were, and I was like you and that far along… I think I’d want to know.”

Shelly hummed softly, happily as she smoothed her hand over her bump, thinking about this tidbit of information.

“Either way,” Lux continued. “You’re growing a new favourite…”

“Lux,” Shelly took her hands again. “I’m not going to replace you. I love you, you silly little lady. You’re my best friend, you idiot - said affectionately!”

“But if you’re growing a mini you -”

“Then she’s gonna love her aunt just as much as I do,” Shelly sounded a little nervous, and she knew that she did; she could hear it in her voice. “If not more!”

Lux must’ve picked up on the blonde’s nerves because she looked up at her. “Aunt? Me?”

“Yes, you,” Shelly nodded. “I know… I know babies themselves aren’t your thing, like you said, they’re too squishy and vulnerable until they can express themselves, and I know you get worried about hurting them!”

Lux nodded, wincing ever so slightly as she remembered blurting out something similar when she met Frank’s twins.

“Once they’re old enough to express themselves, once Gee and I have done the difficult raising and teaching part, you get the fun part! You get to play with them and teach them things that mama doesn’t want to know -”

Lux giggled. “Like swearing and fighting?”

“Maybe just the self defence,” Shelly said with a smile and a raised eyebrow. “‘Cause - can you imagine? A little girl who looks like me, but acts like you?”

“Acts like the pair of us,” Lux corrected softly, her tone fond. “Because there’s no way a daughter of yours wouldn’t be a carbon copy of her mama. Smart, pretty, caring, hard working…”

Lux trailed off a little, going a bit pink. Shelly noticed this and smiled.

“Having you in her life would just give her added spice, a little more…” Shelly paused to search for the right word. “A bit more attitude?”

“I do think she’d get enough of that from her parents,” Lux grinned.

“The sass maybe, but the…” The lightbulb went on above Shelly’s head. “Assertiveness! That’s the word. She’d be more assertive, like you.”

“You mean, she’d take less shit?” Lux said before glancing down at Shelly’s bump. “Sorry, bean. Take less bad stuff? ‘Cause while you and Gerard do stand up for yourselves, and everyone else, you’re kinda…”

“We’re quiet about it.”

“You use your words, I like to threaten people’s kneecaps.”

They both laughed for a moment. 

“I mean, that’s true. If one doesn’t work, the other normally does.”

Lux nodded.

“So,” Shelly continued. “Why wouldn’t I want my daughter, why wouldn't I want my kids -”

“Because we all know that you and Gerard won’t stop at just one,” Lux smiled a little. “You were made to be a mom, Shell, and the world best not take that away from you.”

Shelly leant forward to kiss Lux’s cheek.

“Why wouldn’t I want my kids to have that influence in their lives?” Shelly continued. “Because you have been such a positive influence on me.”

“And you on me, Shell,” Lux admitted, glancing down at Shelly’s stomach. “You much more on me.”

Shelly held Lux’s hand again. “I want my kids to have that too. To have that big family I have now; to have aunts and uncles and all of that.”

“Mikey and I aren’t married though Shell,” Lux sounded a little bit sad as she said this. “I don’t know if -”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Shelly gave her a look. “Darling, he loves you. He’s just a little more reserved about showing it. I think he gets a bit nervous about it sometimes; a little tongue tied. He’s not going to leave you, he’s not gonna get bored of you, he loves you too much.”

Lux looked up at Shelly with wide, hopeful eyes. “Really? You sure?”

Shelly nodded. “I’d bet my whole marriage on it.”

The drummer’s eyes widened and her eyebrows rose.

“Besides,” Shelly continued, side stepping any follow up questions Lux might’ve had after that. “Do you really think I'd let a little thing like Mikey being slow stop you from being the Aunt to my kids? Blood has nothing to do with it,” she paused for a moment. “I mean, there’s no blood between Frank and Ray and the bean, and they’re still gonna be Uncles.”

“Hmm…  I guess that’s true,” Lux scratched her cheek a little.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Shelly grinned a bit. “You’re stuck with me now. You’re stuck with all of us. Like, MyChem’s for life, we’ve been in close quarters with each other for too long now; you don’t just walk away from people you’ve been that close to.”

Lux giggled a bit.

“You don’t have to be… Tied to any of the guys to be involved in my life, Lux. To be involved in the life of my children. You could leave the band and I’d still want you to be involved. I’d still want you around and to be your friend,” Shelly paused to look at Lux for a moment. “If you want to be involved, I mean. I do understand that kids really aren’t your thing.”

“I think,” Lux glanced down at Shelly’s bump. “I think your kids, the kids of…” She swallowed nervously. “The kids of my sister…”

Shelly’s whole aura, her whole being, brightened at those words.

“Will be different,” Lux finished softly.

“I hope so,” Shelly noticed Lux’s fingers twitch slightly. “Did you… Want to touch?”

“I don’t wanna hurt either of you,” Lux glanced up at Shelly.

“You won’t, it’s okay.”

Lux nodded. “Then… Yes, I think I’d like that.”

Shelly hummed and gently took Lux’s hand, putting it on her belly and holding it. “This is how hard you can touch. It’s still a little squishy at the moment, but it’s firming up.”

“It does feel really strange,” Lux admitted. “It’s weird to think that there’s a tiny human growing in there.”

“Mm hm. That bit’s weird to me too. The whole… Physical bit, the changes, weird me out quite a bit.”

“I think that weirds me out a bit too,” Lux admitted.

“Mm, but then again, while it’s weird, it’s also… Kinda incredible?” Shelly watched Lux move her hand around a little, gently patting at her bump. “Like… Did you know that baby had fingerprints now? And a full set of lungs?”

Lux blinked as she looked at her own hands. “That’s… An odd pairing?”

Shelly giggled. “Mm hm! And they start to focus on outside noises a lot more around now.”

“I’d say, so are you and Gerard gonna talk to… It?” Lux frowned. “No. Them? More now, but Gerard is…”

“He’s very good at it already,” Shelly beamed. “He pretty much started talking to the baby as soon as I told him I was pregnant.”

“Gross,” Lux pretended to pull a face but she smiled a little. “You two are so built for this lifestyle, for each other. I can’t think of anyone who’s more suited to become a mom.”

“Thanks Mercy,” Shelly said softly.

Lux pulled another face, less of a pretend one this time, at the use of her legal name. “Shellyyy, Mama Cat, nooo!”

The blonde giggled and gestured for Lux to move in for a hug, which the other girl did happily.

“I’m not gonna abandon you, sweetheart,” Shelly murmured into Lux’s hair. “I’m not letting you go. That’s silly. You’re mine now.”

Lux giggled softly. “I think Mikey might have something to say about that…”

“And I’ll fight him!” Shelly huffed. “I fought for you first, back in the day, I’ll fight for you again now.”

“I think Gerard might have something to say about it too…”

Shelly snorted. “He can deal with it. He loves me too much to say no to me.”

“Plus I don’t think he’s gonna argue with a mama to be,” Lux grinned and patted Shelly’s bump gently. “The mama carrying his baby!”

The baby moved and Lux squeaked. Shelly felt it before Lux did and smiled as she watched the younger woman’s reaction - looking from her hand, to the bump, back to her hand again. Shelly was about to ask if she was okay but Lux put her hand where she’d felt the movement, trying to feel it again. The blonde beamed with pride and gently repositioned Lux’s hand.

“If you stroke a little,” she said quietly. “That normally gets movement a bit quicker than just waiting.”

“Like petting a cat. Which makes sense, because you’re you,” Lux said, taking Shelly’s advice. She didn’t jump as much when the baby moved again. “Oh!”

Shelly tilted her head at Lux’s words, but smiled as the baby moved again and Lux just looked at her own hand with wide eyes.

“Me being a Leo and all that.”

“And Mama Cat. Mama Cat having her own kittens,” Lux removed her hand from Shelly and sounded a tiny bit sad again.

Shelly sighed very softly, pulled Lux back into another hug and kissed the top of her head.

“I’ll always fight for you, Mercy,” Shelly said, snuggling with the younger woman. “I’ll be in your life for as long as you want me. I’m not going anywhere willingly. I’m a Leo, I’m fiercely loyal to those I love - to my pack, my pride. And you’re a part of that.”

“You promise?” Lux asked quietly, sort of nestling against Shelly.

“I promise darling,” Shelly kissed the top of her head again. “I mean, sure, I’m gonna get busy and a little isolated in that newborn baby world for a bit, but ultimately, I’ll come out of that and I’ll need people to remind me that I’m still an adult, still a person, other and more than just a mother. I’ll need some normal, non baby related conversation while everyone else around me is absorbed in my baby too, you know.”

“I… I can probably help with that,” Lux nodded, still cuddled against Shelly a bit. “To bring you a bit of… The non baby focused world.”

“Mm! I’m gonna need that. And not just after the baby’s born, I think I’ll need that before they’re here too, when I get to the stage where I can’t continue flying with you guys.”

“You’ll have to stay home, right?”

“Mm hm,” Shelly nodded. “I’m sure my mama will come and stay with me, but other than that, I’ll need to talk to someone about something that isn’t baby related.”

“I can totally call or text you often,” Lux nodded once, humming happily as Shelly squeezed her gently. “I’ll miss you so it’s not like it’s gonna be hard to remember to do that.”

The blonde cooed a little. “You’ll be able to come and see me when you’re not touring, I think.”

“Until you pop,” Lux gently, almost affectionately, patted Shelly’s stomach. “Then I’d imagine that you’re not gonna want visitors for a little bit?”

“Mm, I don’t know, I’ll have to talk to the doctors about that,” she shook her head. “I’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

“You do still have a few months.”

Shelly nodded. “But I’m not replacing you, honey. I’m not gonna stop caring about you and loving you.”

Lux sniffled a little.

“You’re just gonna have to share Mama Cat a little bit more,” Shelly said into Lux’s hair with a bit of a grin. “And you’re a good girl, I know you can do that.”

The drummer whined a tiny bit before huffing at herself for doing so, shifting away from the pregnant woman to sit up a bit more. But, she took Shelly’s hand, squeezing it gently.

“I mean, you already have to share me with everyone else, Frank and Gerard especially.”

Lux blushed a little bit before clearing her throat. Shelly noticed and giggled, squeezing her hand back.

“Yeah, I regret my word choice too,” Shelly grinned a bit more. “Damn baby hormones.”

“Shush,” Lux hushed, shaking her head.

“But,” Shelly lifted Lux’s chin again. “I promise I’m not going anywhere, Mercy.”

Lux pouted, though she knew that Shelly (and Mikey, actually) only really used her legal name when they were really serious about things.

“I promise I’m not gonna abandon you, sweetheart,” Shelly repeated gently, cupping Lux’s cheek. “It’ll be a bit weird for a bit, I admit that, but I’m never gonna not want you around. I love you too much. Okay?”

“Okay,” Lux whispered with a nod.

“Want another hug?”

“Yes please.”

“C’mere then,” Shelly held her arms out, wrapping them around Lux when she snuggled in. “Feel better?”

Lux nodded before putting a hand on Shelly’s bump again. “I think so.”

“You’re really special and important to me, Mercy,” Shelly watched Lux’s fingers stroking her bump. “I can have a whole football team’s worth of kids and you’ll still be my first kitten.”

She looked up at Shelly and grinned. “And with the way you and Gerard are, especially with the way he looks at you now, that’s very much a possibility!”

They both giggled for a moment before Shelly tutted at her.

“Naughty kitten,” she petted Lux’s hair for a moment.

She was about to say more but the baby moved again. This time, however, instead of being surprised, Lux just smiled.

“You’re gonna be such a good mom, Shell,” she said. “I can’t wait to meet them so I can tell them all about how we see you. About how wonderful their mama is.”

“And to teach them how to be a bit of a menace, I hope?” Shelly tilted her head. “A bit of self defence from their favourite Aunt?”

Lux looked up at the mom-to-be with wide, hopeful eyes. “You think I’ll be the favourite?”

“Of course. If you’re mama’s favourite relative -”

“Aside from their dad,” Lux grinned.

“Aside from their dad,” Shelly shook her head with a smile. “If you’re mama’s favourite, you’ll be baby’s favourite.”

Lux hummed a little bit and focused on gently petting Shelly’s stomach for a few moments.

“That help?” Shelly whispered. “You feel better?”

Lux nodded before sighing softly. “I’m sorry Shell…”

“Oh no sweetheart, it’s okay. I think I’d be nervous about it too if the roles were reversed.”

“I didn’t need to bother you with it though, you’ve got so much on your mind at the moment.”

Shelly pulled Lux to settle next to her again. Lux leant her head against Shelly’s shoulder and hummed happily when Shelly took her hand.

“I���d rather you came to me to talk about it sooner rather than later,” Shelly admitted. “I wouldn’t want you to sit on it and feel worse and worse, you know?”

Lux nodded against Shelly’s collarbone/shoulder area. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely darling,” Shelly kissed the top of Lux’s head. “Absolutely.”

Lux sighed happily. “Thanks Shell. I feel a lot better now.”

“Good. You wanna stay here until you’re called back again?”

“Yes please.”

“Alright,” Shelly moved to put her phone on a surface, making sure it wasn’t on silent first.  “You wanna take a nap or something?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Lux shifted a bit. “But you can’t lie on your back. I don’t have much in the boob department, but you can lean on me.”

Shelly giggled a little bit and eventually the girls managed to get comfortable. Lux was fairly happy to be able to look after Shelly for once, though she did worry about hurting Shelly or the baby, but Shelly managed to reassure her and they settled down to rest together until Lux was needed again, or until the guys returned, whichever came first.

It turned out to be the latter - the guys returned to the bus to see the women snuggled up together, Shelly leaning against Lux for once, the drummer cuddling the blonde protectively. More importantly, they were resting. Which, ultimately, is what they all wanted for Shelly in the first place.

[dansconcepts]

Megamind Komahina AU (MegaLuck)

I saw this post on Youtube by @/Mcdonalds-Qiqi and I was like I should 100% write about this. And that's what I did. It's not done, like, at all, but it's prob the longest thing I've ever written (6000 words is a lot for me). I rewatched Megamind for it and that was a fun watch and YES this is 100% just Megamind but with Komahina flavouring so have a little taste with some scenes under the cut.

(Also this wasn't gonna be my first writing post but I mean I'm silly at heart sometimes yknow.)

If someone asked Komaeda how he was doing, he’d usually respond with “Fine, but I’m sure my luck will kick in at some point.” Had they asked him now, he’d say, “Ah, I’m fine” and not dwell any further on what would be considered quite an unlucky day. Alas, good luck will surely come out of this, even if his body is used as a vessel to do so. 

Falling from a high depth does not feel like flying. 

It just feels like falling from a high altitude, and an instinctive part of himself still wants to salvage this, remain alive even after losing essentially everything. He always loses everything in the end, doesn’t he? This is something he’s prepared for his entire life. Yet, of course, it still doesn’t seem to curb that jolt of displeasure that permeates through his body, the uncertainty in knowing that you want to cling and push everything away at the same time just to preserve your… emotions, fickle as they are. [But he’s the reason he’s here, after all].

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When it came down to it, he was lucky to live, even if that luck is substantiated by losing his parents and meeting the other that had everything given to him on a silver platter. 

He and Naegi weren’t in the same class, but whenever his luck struck, Makoto was there to stop it, and everyone blamed him for the bad things that happened. He couldn’t hate them for it either. He blames himself too.

Some people don't really believe in such unseeable forces. Yet how else could he explain a plane going rogue, and being the only living being to see the terrible aftermath of it? Of experiencing being kidnapped, and being able to get out of that? Who else could it be besides Lady Luck?

Yet he is grateful to her. Otherwise, how else would he be rich? Be smart of mind, besides being tainted in health? He should be grateful...

He should be.

But he looks at his arm and only speaks to the metal that is there, the little characters on the screen being his only company. Everyone else stares at the teacher pointing at the board toward something he figured out already, when he last snuck a glance at it anyway. Now, he's left with his familiar position of facing brown wallpaper. It's a very boring brown. It's worse when he has to hear his classmates talking about him. They're all so void of doing anything useful.

"Can we pwease pwease pwease do something?! This is, like, soooo boring!"

The class hushes her, along with her fellow companion on the screen. Indeed, his classmates would be more useful in another way. They're so predictable.

In a quieter tone, the pink-haired girl looks up from the console in her hands to say, "You can go play the quiet game, Junko. That'll surely entertain you, I think." And immediately looks back down. Junko squawks her protests. He wonders if Chiaki is actually playing a game, or if the sprite's just for show.

Nagito hums. The AI instantly blinks at him, crossing her arms. "The fuck? What's got you looking so happy?"

"Hope is going to be plentiful today."

"What the hell's that supposed to mea-"

BOOM!

"OH HELL YEAH!"

"JUNKO!!!"

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Hajime blearily opens his eyes. Light blinds his vision, and he blinks it away. As it clears, fluffy white hair and pale skin greet him, a white T-shirt hanging loosely off their thin frame. Their long eyelashes frame the entrancing evergreen eyes, with a foggy dreaminess melting into him. Is this an angel?

"Oh, you're awake." The voice says. 

Who...? "Leave me alone."

The person steps back. "Sorry, I'm not about to do that when you look that tired. Are you okay? You seem pretty out of it."

He stares outside. There's a beautiful moon out, and again, no stars. Typical. "...It's been a rough day." He cuddles the soft fabric closer. So nice and warm-

Wait... soft fabric?

He immediately looks down to the dark green clothing in his hand.

"Oh, yeah, you started shivering so I just gave you my sweater. You're free to keep it if you want."

His face burns, and he wordlessly tosses the sweater back. "Thanks, but I'm fine. Who are you? I wasn’t expecting to see anyone else besides Touko."

The pale man's smile turns serene. "Ah, I’m new, I started a while back. I��m helping Touko clear out some essentials since the building is getting renovations. It should be happening fairly soon, so let’s get out of here, shall we?"

"Really?" He doesn't recall anything like that happening, but he wouldn't be surprised considering Naegi is...

"Alright, I’ll come with you."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"Junko. Where the hell is Komaeda?" Hajime snarls.

Now, Nagito knows he should say something to that, but… He said my name.

"Uh…" He stutters. 

"Junko! Don't hurt him!" He hears his own voice say. He looks to his arm, where Junko's sprite sends a cheeky wink. He should probably figure out when she decided to record his voice later...

Unfortunately for him, Hajime only glares at him harder. "I will not fucking hesitate, you bitch! Let him go!"

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Hajime’s taking quite a while. He doesn’t resent it, he shall wait however long he needs to, but this is a little unusual for him. If anything, Hajime’s quite punctual. He can’t even talk to Junko or Chiaki, since they seem to have closed off their connection with him.

The reporter finally shows up, a little messy. His ahoge is more limp than normal. He swiftly pulls the velvet chair to sit on. "God, sorry I'm late Komaeda." He huffs.

"Oh, it's no worries, Hinata-kun. I understand why you might not have wanted to come for trash like m-"

"No! It's not that!" He's quickly met with. The white-haired man easily smiles. So easy. The frown turns into a pout. "Oh, you're teasing me again."

"Haha, sorry. It's really fun." Hajime opens his mouth to protest. Ah, can't have that. "What happened?" He shoots out.

The other's mouth shuts closed. Olive eyes stare him down warily, and he tilts his head. The look is 100% his we're not done with this topic but I'm dropping it because you really love doing this shit, yet he really just wants to know what has Hajime so disheveled. If someone hurt him-

Hajime immediately dives into what happened within the past few hours, being tossed around by Fragment and how Fragment's his best friend while he's left with dread pooling within him.

"I love him, I do, but right now he really doesn't need these powers. The last thing he needs is another reason to feel perfect for Sonia. I’ve been trying to help him deal with rejection, but this really… really fucked with him. And shit went down."

Why would Fragment attack Hinata-kun, this wasn't meant to happen-

Hajime shuts his eyes. He rubs his temples. "I'd rather not deal with all this. Let's just eat."

He resists the urge to bite his lip. The temptation to comfort is so high, but knowing he was the cause of it...

Furrowed eyes meet his gaze, and soften. He gulps. A tanned hand reaches out, and he reaches out his own-

For his glass.

"To you, Komaeda, for being the not insane part of my life right now." Hajime grins, lifting his cup in the air.

Komaeda chuckles politely. If only you knew.

"I'm always happy to be with you, Hajime."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[He's hoping to get lucky one last time.]

“Providing hope… feels pretty good.”

[noivoom]

 Okay, after several days of brainstorming and debating with myself, I have finally decided to emerge from The Lurking Pit and share this little (“little”) thing! This AU came about from my love of dysfunctional family tropes as well as my desire for everyone to live (honestly I mostly just wanted to daydream fanfic ideas without having to navigate canon’s minefield of problems, began wondering what an “ideal” situation would look like, and this spawned out of it)

The point of this was to, again, create an “ideal” situation for the gang, with potential for all kinds of Shenanigans™ and Drama™ alike while still keeping everyone as close to their canon selves as possible, as a bit of relief from all the angst :’) (I say “ideal situation,” but that doesn’t mean they haven’t still got issues galore. *cough*SUNNEEDSTHERAPY*cough*) (If, on the off chance anyone is inspired by this and/or wants to make something with this setting, please let me know! I’d LOVE to see it! :D)

I call it- One big UnHappy Family!

TL;DR Sun, Moon, Lunar, Earth, KC, Bloodmoon, and Solar Flare are all alive and well and somehow ended up as the world’s most Complicated™ family. Chaos ensues.

As for how they wound up that way? WELL. I’m gonna start rambling now, please bear with me

It starts with Sun shooting Bloodmoon. Sun didn’t fully know if he really wanted to kill Bloodmoon, was fighting internally to come to a decision one way or another and therefor wasn’t actually aiming when a moment of reflex kicked in, and the barrel went off. And he misses. Well... mostly. Bloodmoon takes a decent amount of the shot, and though it doesn’t kill them, they’re left severely damaged. It’s quite a confronting sight for Sun- while in canon there was nothing left of BM for Sun to really understand the weight of what he just did (at first, anyway), here he’s immediately confronted with another animatronic panicking and in pain as their nanomachines desperately try to rebuild them :’) Nothing like a bit of visual trauma to hit home that your actions have consequences, amirite? Moon investigates the barrel shot and sudden screaming (from both BM and Sun) to find... this. He’d probably have several things in mind to say to Sun about shooting BM, but he’d hold off for now. And thus begins one hell of a domino effect.

While fixing Bloodmoon, it becomes apparent the barrel shot corrupted some of their code. Nothing particularly bad, but oddly enough, it seems to have somehow also curbed their bloodlust. The lack of cravings leave the twins disoriented and kinda lost, but it’s also... almost a relief. Lunar takes advantage of this, introducing them to new things to occupy their time, and wow, who knew they could find entertainment in something other than homicide and appalling crimes against humanity? They’re still Bloodmoon, of course, they still have to be held back from killing people, but that’s not all they wanna do anymore. And food! Now that their bloodlust is out of the way food tastes so much better, there’s so many different flavours and textures and they gotta try everything and whoops, they’ve accidentally found themselves on the world’s weirdest redemption arc. (So, uh, thanks for shooting them after all, Sun...? I guess?)

Meanwhile KC, concerned over Bloodmoon’s wellbeing, convinces Moon to let him watch over them during their recovery. As the twins begin discovering new things that satisfy themselves, KC, trying to be Dad™, joins them. He’s never actually participated in anything that doesn’t involve murder, and much of these activities are uninteresting to him, but something about doing it with his sons... it actually... satisfies something in him, too. (None of them are particularly good at finding non-violent hobbies, mind you, but Lunar, Sun and Moon help out. Mostly to keep them occupied. They have no idea what’s going on, but they much prefer whatever the hell this is to evil plotting.) Eventually Moon relaxes a little when he realises KC intends to stay true to their deal, and occasionally switches off while KC’s out rather than watching him like a hawk. This leads to KC exploring on his own and running into Glamrock Freddy. He panics a little and pretends to be Moon. A parallel of their canon talk happens and oh would you look at that, KC’s accidentally Dad-ed his way into a redemption arc of his own! (No dead Bloodmoon means Sun doesn’t McFreaking Lose It, which means Lunar doesn’t move out and get killed, and also means the magic circle isn’t destroyed, which means Moon doesn’t get stuck in his head and get his memories wiped! :D Huzzah!) (Sun is still in desperate need of therapy though)

Eclipse is, of course, rather indignant at this turn of events. He never like the Blood Twins or KC, but seriously? Just like that?! It’s almost insulting. Not to mention it screws up his plan (not that he’d had a chance to flesh out said plan yet anyway). He continues regardless, taking over Solar Flare’s body to... do something. I’ll admit, I haven’t exactly figured out what his new course of action would be. Regardless, he ends up making his own body and ditches Solar Flare without a second thought. Solar Flare, alone and deeply disturbed over having their body hijacked so easily, is at a loss for what to do when they stumble upon Earth! Or more accurately, she stumbles upon them. She comforts them and they go with her to the Daycare. (I also don’t know if Earth would have already joined the DCA crew or if she just shows up fashionably late with Starbucks Solar Flare. Both are funny; either she shows up as a stranger with another stranger like “yes hello I’m your new sister, also I decided to bring this vaguely traumatised stranger along with me, hope you don’t mind :)” or she goes for a walk and comes back with this stranger like “can we keep them? *puppy eyes*”) Thus, Solar Flare joins the family!

Honestly... despite everyone else getting redeemed/joining the family, I think it’s funniest if Eclipse stays a bad guy. Everyone else is learning about themselves and growing as individuals/family, meanwhile Eclipse is over there being a stubborn, petty, lonely bastard and refusing to acknowledge that the reason he is miserable everywhere he goes is because every time he goes somewhere, he is there. Also he creates the conflict needed for further plot to happen. Also also I don’t think he’d take the option of redemption if it was handed to him on a silver platter accompanied by a ten-page essay on why it’s the best choice for everyone, especially him. (But who knows! I guess it is possible, it would just be a lot of work. He’d have to really want to be better and put the work in. Even then, I imagine he’d probably end up going his own way. It’d be for the best after all the trauma he’s inflicted.)

The FUNNIEST pat of all of this is when Glamrock Freddy visits the Daycare to talk to Sun and Moon about something only to see Sun yelling and chasing Bloodmoon, who’s knocking over and destroying EVERYTHING, Lunar running after them playing the Benny Hill theme, Solar Flare robotically restacking the barrels one pile at a time (seemingly oblivious to the fact that Bloodmoon knocks them over again as soon as they turn their back, creating an endless cycle they don’t seem to question), Earth calling out for everyone to please not hurt themselves, and Moon just... sitting there, rubbing his temples. “... Hey Freddy,” Moon says, not looking up. “... What the heck is going on?” “Family bonding.” “Family- where the heck did all these people even come from?!” “It’s a long story.”

If you’ve read all this, thank you so much for hearing me out <3 I’ll admit, most of my thought processes behind this boil down to “I just think it’s neat” and “because I think it’s funny”. This is supposed to be just for fun, after all. Please tell me what you think! There’s SO MUCH more to this, from evolving family dynamics to specific character development and even Monty, this post is all just the basic set-up of how the gang got to where they are. I have SO MANY more thoughts about this setting, it’s a disaster and a half and I’d love to discuss it please give me an excuse to ramble more 

[sesshous]

he misses those afternoon tea time dates with you [wriothesley x reader]

summary: wrio misses you a lot

genre: angst, no comfort (no prns)

a/n: holy shit i'm in love with this man. time to write an angsty fanfic about him

three thirty used to be wriothesley’s favourite time of the day.

he remembers when the clock in his office signalled that time, he would clean up his desk, boil up fresh water in his teapot, and head over to his shelves when he kept his (well above-average than the normal person’s) collection of tea, wondering one question:

what tea would you prefer today? would you want the same as yesterday? would you want something sweeter? or on the bitter side? herbal taste maybe? he was all the more eager to take suggestions for different blends you wanted to try. did café lucerne have a new tea you’d liked? he’d make his way down (or well, up in this case) to the court of fontaine and ask arouet about the new blend he added to the menu. the rainbow roses you came across were some of the best smelling ones you’ve ever smelt? surely they would make a perfect tea blend (unless you wanted the flowers yourself - he’d have no problem getting them for you) or how you had mentioned you had gotten a book all about inazuman culture and one of the sections mentioned a blend in a teahouse located in inazuma city that you thought sounded good. okay, that was a bit harder to obtain, but he was determined to get his hands on a box of that tea you wanted, so much so that he ended up making a request to send a box over from inazuma, along with a very hefty price to compensate for the delivery.

(wriothesley never minded what you picked. after all, your day-to-day afternoon tea sessions made the tea he drank taste so much better - and gave him a push that made working through his copious amounts of paperwork a lot more bearable.)

and then - like it was before - five minutes later, when he was still pondering the tea choice, you would give your signature knock on his office door. knock… wait 3 seconds, knock, knock, knock. letting out a soft chuckle, ‘come in’ he would say. hearing the door open and footsteps making their way up the stairs with a rustling of a bag that - if he had to make a guess - had a batch of conch madeleines you brought to enjoy with the tea. 

(he recalls the few times you have brought some foreign treats from merchandents that were from different nations who had been touring around fontaine. from mondstadt you had brought tea-break pancakes and well… he couldn’t lie to you, they really did not taste any different from the ones he had before. but hey, it’s not like pancakes were incorporated into his daily diet, might as well enjoy them as a one-off treat.

and in his opinion, the charcoal-baked ajilenakh cake that you got from that sumeru merchant was actually pretty good and he did not understand what the iudex was talking about when he had heard him express his distaste towards the pastry.

the sakura shrimp crackers however were… quite the odd choice. not that they tasted bad or anything, but combining the salty snack with the chamomile tea you both had that day made for a… unique flavour. 

‘hm, interesting combo you wanted to try out.’

‘shit, i should’ve of gotten the tricoloured dango instead…’

but his favourite of the goodies you brought to him had to have been the ones you've baked yourself and archons, he wished he had the chance to taste them again.)

‘you know you don’t gotta knock. i know it’s you.’

‘oh yeah? well what if one day i stop knocking on the door? how will you know when i’m coming to visit?’

oh, he wishes that you haven’t said that. maybe it was foreshadowing this current situation. he’ll never know. it’s not like he’ll get the chance to ever ask you again. 

he misses those afternoons spent together. he misses hearing about your day. he misses your voice. he misses your face. he misses you.

(and while arout couldn’t give him the entire recipe to the new addition to his menu, he atleast gave the duke some pointers on how to make the tea have a similar taste to his new addition.

the petals of the rainbow rose made the tea pink, with slight yellow and blue flecks swirling around inside the water. the fragrance had been just as lovely as you described.

that tea blend from inazuma? it’s left unopened, hidden in the very back of his tea collection.  he can’t bring himself to try it all alone.)

the clock in his office no longer signals three thirty. there are no more knocks on his door five minutes after the alarm sets off. he no longer has to boil a fresh batch of water and think about what you would like to drink today.

you’re gone. you’re not coming back. and wriothesley sits alone in his office wondering about what tea blend you would of wanted to try with him today.

[bumblecrisp]

OHHHH MY GOD. oh my god. i have been waiting for this day.

I LOVE JOSEPH JOESTAR. he is my husband. we have been married for 47 years (about two months).

ok let’s start with the obvious. he is so fucking stupid. i like that in a man. he is so goddamn dumb he is an IDIOT💕💗💖💞💓💘!!!!!!!!!!! he has literally zero self awareness and that is deeply attractive to me 😁

not a thought behind those eyes. god bless

he’s really smart. now this might seem contradictory to point 1, but that’s exactly why i like him so much. he is a strategic genius, which combined with his ridiculous good luck makes him very successful in his endeavours. he is very intellectually smart but otherwise dumb - exactly my type lol

he is niceys‼️ bro is a rich white guy in the 1930s whose best friend is a black man (smokey brown, my beloved). they met when smokey pickpocketed him and joseph rescued him from the police and was like i like your vibes let’s hang out. he straight up attacked a guy in a public restaurant for being a racist ass hoe!! but he also extends a courtesy and respect to his enemies, like wamuu. he has a strong sense of justice and genuinely wants the best for everyone. he’s just a good guy ok.

acab. again he was way ahead of his time with this one

he’s so lame he’s just the worst 😩💕 like he’s sooo lame he can’t flirt for shit and i think that’s wonderful. he wants to be caesar sooooo bad

he’s cuuuuute he’s a cutie patootie! i personally am a pt 2 truther, i’m not really a gilf person, but he definitely has a tragic lifelong case of chronic babygirlism. he just has such a pokeable face, yk? he looks like he’d be fun to Annoy

also he’s 6’5”/195cm if that matters to you

and mega rich

i, personally, with respect, do not think i could ever date a 100% cisgender heterosexual man. while he does definitely look like a macho dude you CANNOT tell me there wasn’t something going on with him and caesar. he’s some flavour of queer i GUARANTEE IT. (personally i think he’s bi 😁)

this one doesn’t really do anything for me personally but i feel it would do him a disservice not to mention it. his stand creates vines which he can manipulate. do with that knowledge what you will

he has no fashion sense. look at this clown ass bitch. i NEED to m-[gets dragged offstage]

(i realize that this isn’t usually attractive to people. im just a little fucked in the head its fine 👍)

he is a douchebag. he’s loud and rude and boisterous and obnoxious and a little bit of a perv. but i like that about him. objectifying women is bad except☝️when it’s my pookie bear

he makes a fine ass woman and i’m tired of pretending he doesn’t. josie joestar can get it

like come on. she’s a smash for sure. (i should mention that, in canon, the whole ‘tequila joseph’ bit is clearly intended as a joke with transmisogyny as the punchline. that is, for obvious reasons, bad. however, i would argue that it is in this case a reflection on the author rather than joseph himself. in fact, given the strict gender-enforcing laws of the time, the fact that this was joseph’s first idea speaks to an surprising [for the time, in mainstream society] level of openness to exploring/playing with gender. or maybe im losing it idk)

crop tops.

i love him so much he’s the dumbest man alive and he deserves the entire world ☺️

Why do people find Joseph Joestar attractive? I always thought he was a douchebag, but that might just be me. I would like to hear the JoJo's fandom's perspective on the character because you guys seem to love him

Defend Your Blurbo #51

Please remember this post is about curiosity and genuine fandom discourse. Be kind with your answers because this is not a debate essay, this is a discussion between fans

Meet Joseph Joestar, the main protagonist of part 2 of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure and a side character of part 3 as Grandpa Joseph.

Have fun with this one. I have a feeling this will devolve into which version of Joseph is more attractive. So JoJo's fandom defend your blorbo

[alloftheimagines]

steve harrington | movie night

masterlist | ko-fi

words: 2.9k

warnings: reader has a pregnancy scare and is dating a shitty, toxic jock, alcohol consumption, steve is whipped, enemies to lovers vibes, strong language, mentions of spooky hawkins shenanigans, no spoilers, reader has she/her pronouns,

prompts: Any time anything bad happens your there are you cursing me or something?  Steve Harrington x reader can it have some fluff and angst &

the "i don't need your pity" with steve please ❤️

Steve Harrington is trying really hard not to notice you. You’ve barely spoken since the two of you were kidnapped by Russians last July, never great friends to begin with — partly because he loves teasing the shit out of you, and partly because he’s always dragging you into Hawkins’s batshit underworld, whether it’s Demogorgons killing Dustin Henderson’s cat or a giant fucking Mind Flayer in the middle of the mall. And between those things, you were stuck with him for years. Tutoring him at school. Working with him at Scoops. You irritate each other to no end, but he can’t stop that burning feeling that flames in his chest whenever you’re around; that need to get a reaction. 

He hasn’t worked out why it’s there yet, or maybe he’s in denial. Robin claims it’s because he likes you, but Steve refuses to admit he has feelings for the very bane of his existence, the person who always ate the leftover pistachio ice cream, of all things. He doesn’t trust anyone who picks wild, shitty flavours involving nuts. It’s mint chocolate chip or nothing. 

That’s why, when he comes out back and finds you browsing the chick flick section in Family Video, he freezes with a collection of tapes still in his hands. And okay, maybe the sight of you leaves him bristling instinctively, but… maybe he’d also forgotten how pretty you look when you’re concentrating, tongue sticking out just slightly and eyes narrowed. It’s your perfecting-the-ice-cream-scoop face. Your murdering-gruesome-monsters-with-a-baseball-bat face. And, apparently, your looking-for-exactly-the-right-romcom face. 

He’s missed that face. Not that he would ever admit it. He retreats behind the counter quietly, half-wondering if he could go back to the stockroom or take his afternoon break a little early. But then he won’t have the chance to talk to you, and the thought leaves him feeling empty. 

So he stays, distracting himself by sorting the videos, first by genre and then alphabet. As he does, he feels Robin’s presence behind him — and jumps when he looks over his shoulder to find her breathing down his neck. “Guess who’s here?”

Heat rises to his cheeks, but he feigns nonchalance. “I don’t know. Who?”

“Only the love of your life. And look at that blush!” She points and he slaps her hand away. “You’re still crushing hard, I see.”

He glares, turning around and leaning against the counter. “Yeah, right,” he scoffs. “Please. She's the most irritating person in the world. We’re not doing this whole,” he motions vaguely, “thing again.”

“The thing where you pretend you don’t like Y/N?”

“The thing where you try to play Cupid with me and the one person I can’t stand.”

Robin rolls her eyes, leaning on the counter beside him. He mirrors her position, crossing his arms and stealing a glance your way. He can barely see you behind the row of tapes, thank god. 

A new customer distracts him, swaggering through the door. An asshole jock he never liked, and not just because he was better at basketball. Wes is a dick. Has always been a dick. Steve vaguely remembers coming home with a chunk of hair missing in middle school once because Wes had taken it upon himself to chop it all off. The entire class had laughed, and Steve had grown out his hair just to spite them. 

Wes doesn’t look their way when he enters. Instead, he heads straight to you, dragging his feet and groaning when he finds you. “Again? Seriously?”

“Oh, please. If we watch Mad Max one more time, I’m going to gouge out my eyes.”

“Yeah, well, if I have to sit through another dull snooze fest with that ginger chick, I’m gonna gouge them out for you.”

Steve catches you scowling through the video racks and clenches his jaw. He had no idea you were dating anybody, but you’ve had your fair share of shitbags over the years. It pisses him off, the way you always choose the worst people to date. Whenever he overheard you gossiping with Robin at Scoops, he wanted to shake you. Tell you to wake the fuck up and choose someone better.

But he doesn’t know why he’s still surprised.

You sigh; pick a movie. “I’ll watch a shitty action if you watch a shitty romance. How about that?” 

Wes still rolls his eyes as though you’re asking him to sacrifice a limb, and even Steve knows it’s a dick move. If he was dating somebody like you, he’d watch anything to make you happy. Not that he’d ever want to date someone like you. God, no. You’re… awful. 

Your boyfriend picks up Fright Night as you approach the counter, slamming it in front of Steve beside your Romancing the Stone. Steve glances at Robin in the hopes she’ll serve you so he won’t have to, but after greeting you happily, she wanders into the back mumbling something about a lunch break. Typical.

With a huff, he drags his feet to you. “Y/N.” He nods.

“Steve,” you reply tersely, shuffling from one foot to the other. 

“This is where you’re working now, Harrington?” Wes scoffs beside you, his sparkling eyes fixing on Steve’s tacky uniform. “King Steve is no more, huh?”

“Wes,” you scold. 

Steve ignores him, inputting your rentals into the system. He finds his fingers shaking; not with anger, but with something that feels rooted much deeper in his gut. Something that makes him feel sick. Why Wes? You could have anybody, so why would you choose a dick like him?

“Just saying. It’s kinda funny.” Wes plays with Steve’s name badge, face twisted with the taunt. “Least you get this cool badge, right?”

“That’s enough,” you snap at the same time Steve bats his hand away. Steve only notices then that you’re pale. Eyes watery. Worry niggles through him, and he wishes it wouldn’t. 

“Jeez,” Wes mutters. “Lighten up, babe.”

You shake your head, pulling out your purse to pay Steve. “Why can’t you just stop being an asshole?”

“What did you say to me?” Wes grits his teeth, narrowing his eyes at you. 

Steve looks between you, biting his lower lip. He can’t help it now. He wonders what the hell you’re doing with this jerk. Wonders if he’s more than just an asshole. Especially when he balls his fists, shoulders squared. 

“Enjoy your movies,” is all Steve can think to say in an effort to dissolve the tension. He places the videos in a bag and leaves them on the counter. 

You take them without looking at him, mumbling a “thanks.” And then you’re disappearing out the door. Wes sizes Steve up a final time before following. 

“Dick,” Steve mumbles before going back to his work. But that unease stays with him for the rest of the day, the ghost of your disgruntled, ashen face following him around Hawkins.

***

What was supposed to be an intimate movie night with your boyfriend turned into a house party full of people you despised in high school and still do now. Worse? You had a pregnancy scare this morning. You’re late, and you’d been dreading telling Wes, but you needed him to get the test for you because your dad works in the pharmacy, and he doesn’t know anything about who you date. 

The test came back negative, but Wes had been a first-class prick the entire time, starting with the way he’d treated Steve. Blaming you for not forcing him to wear a condom or not taking the pill, and then making accusations you’d done it on purpose to trap him, or else cheated with other people. By the time his friends turned up at seven, you were in tears and he was already half-drunk. 

You did your best to pretend everything was fine for the sake of his friends. But the horror movie and the constant, subtle jabs sent your way had been the last straw. You're still recovering from the monsters you’ve fought more than once, and Wes knows you hate horror. He knows. But he doesn’t care. He’s never cared.

So you broke up with him in front of everyone. Snatched his dad’s finest whiskey from his liquor cabinet, and walked out. Problem is, it’s nearly midnight now and you’re walking through Hawkins alone. No one to call. Nowhere to go. 

The first headlights you’ve seen in eons beam behind you, lighting up the darkness. You clutch your drink closer to your chest and turn your face away, just in case it’s someone you know. But the car stops. And when you don’t look back, the driver honks. Fuck. You think it’s Wes, but when you turn around, you find a car you just about recognise to be Steve Harrington’s. Sure enough, his big-haired silhouette fills up the driver’s seat. Somehow, that’s even worse. 

He rolls down the window. “What are you doing out here on your own?”

“None of your business,” you mutter. 

When you attempt to walk away, Steve begins rolling the car to match your pace. “Hey. I can give you a ride. It’s no problem.”

“I don’t need a ride from you.”

He flinches as though it’s a physical blow — but still doesn’t leave you be. “Y/N… what the hell’s going on? Just get in the car.”

“What are you even doing here?” you snap, whipping around to face him. “God, what is it with you? You’re always around when something bad happens! Is it you? Are you cursing me or something?”

His lips part as though surprised, and you only realise then that you probably look like shit, your makeup running and your steps hindered by the whisky. You silently beg that he drives away, because the last thing you need is to breakdown in front of Steve Harrington, the one guy you’ve never been able to get along with. He’s the reason you’re always dragged into monster-hunting and Russian-spying. The reason why you hate horror movies and are scared of the dark. 

Finally, he softens, opening the passenger-side door and patting the empty seat. “C’mon. You’re drunk. Let me take you home.”

You scoff, but it quickly turns into a sniffle. “I’m not going home. I can’t go home like this.” 

“Okay, then you can take my spare room. My parents aren’t home tonight.”

The shadows close in on you, and you know it’s the only option you have. That, or you’ll be wandering around town for the rest of the night, and that never ends well. It didn’t for Barb or Will Byers, at least. 

You slump into his car, shutting the door behind you and trying to ignore his burning gaze. “Fine. Whatever.”

He starts driving, leaving you in the engine-whirring silence. You stare out of the windshield, watching the pines merge into one great big shadow that reminds you too much of Starcourt Mall. 

“No boyfriend tonight?” Steve asks finally, carefully. 

“No. We broke up.”

“Good. He’s a piece of shit.”

You snort because you know it’s true. “Yeah.”

“He didn’t…hurt you or anything?” Steve’s eyes search you, and you fight the urge to cower away.

“No.”

“So, what was the last straw? His shitty taste in movies?” His lip twitches with the attempt at humour. 

“Among other things.” You swig your whisky. “We were just always fighting. That’s all.”

“If Robin was here, she’d be telling you you can do way better.”

You smile softly at that, looking down at the bottle in your lap. “Yeah. They always start off nice, though. Sweet. And then they just… turn.”

“C’mon. You knew Wes was an asshole. Everyone does.”

“Maybe.” Your lip trembles, and you find Steve watching you with something that looks an awful lot like sympathy. You stiffen, an inexplicable wave of sickness washing over you. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity.” He returns his attention to the road, fingers tapping against the steering wheel. “I just don’t get it. You could date anyone you wanted, but you always choose the worst people in the world.”

“That’s not true.”

He tilts his head. “It’s a little true. Tommy H. Sam. Paul.” He winces and feigns a gag when he says, “Brad.”

Brad had been a particularly bad experience, and your lip curls in disgust. You know he’s right. You pick the wrong people. Problem is, it doesn’t usually feel like a choice. Being alone, feeling lonely… it eats you up, so the second someone asks you out, you’re quick to say yes just to ease that hole in your chest. You’re naive. You hope that if you’re good to them, they’ll love you right. But they never do. 

“Why’d you do it, Y/N?” Steve asks, voice so soft it makes you want to break. You never talk like this. Not without harsh jabs or barbed banter. It makes you want to tell the truth too much. 

You turn your face away as you say, “I guess after all the crazy shit we went through, dating makes me feel normal. Less alone. I guess I’d rather keep getting my heart broken than face monsters and shit.”

Silence passes between you, heavy and thick and humiliating. Your face burns as you wait for the mocking, the scorn, the disbelief. But Steve only says, “I get it. It’s hard being alone after everything we went through. I hate having that big house to myself most nights. It still feels like they’re out there, y’know? Waiting.”

“Yeah.” You pick at the label on your bottle, trying to hide the surprise you feel. Steve always seems so unfazed by what you’ve been through. He just… bounces back like it’s nothing. “Yeah, it does.”

“Did you ever tell Wes?”

You shake your head. “He wouldn’t believe me. I remember… I woke up from a nightmare once, screaming, and he… he told me to shut up ‘cos he had to get up early for work.”

Steve hisses. “Jesus. What a dick.”

You don’t even know why you’re telling him; only that you feel like you can. Should. He’s the only one who gets it. It’s what makes you say, “I’m sorry. For the way he treated you today.”

“No need to apologise. For what it’s worth, it meant a lot that you said something. I wasn’t expecting that.”

You're almost at his house now, the pointed roof breaking through the trees. “Yeah, well, you’re a pain in my ass, Harrington, but you don’t deserve to be mocked. We’re all just trying to get by, right? We’re not in high school anymore.”

Steve pulls up outside his house, the porch lights twinkling in the darkness. But when the engine cuts out, neither of you move. Instead, he unfastens his seatbelt and twists towards you. “You seemed upset today. Were you already fighting, or…?”

You shake your head, unable to put it into words. “A lot happened today.”

“Like what?”

You scrape your hair back, whetting your dry lips. You shouldn’t tell him. You don’t want him to see you this vulnerable. It’s easier when you’re at each other’s throats, pretending that there isn’t a flame guttering between the two of you. But you’re not sure how much longer you can keep everything to yourself. All this pain. “I was late.”

“To Family Video?” he asks innocently.

You almost laugh. “No. My period was late, Steve.”

His eyes widen. “Oh.”

“I thought maybe… I mean, we were being careful, but it’s not always enough. So I needed to take a pregnancy test. Wes lost his shit. Started accusing me of trying to trap him. And then when the test came back negative, he still kept treating me like shit. All fucking day. We were supposed to be having a date night tonight, but he invited a tonne of his friends and got drunk. And he told everyone. He told everyone I thought I was pregnant, and I was trying to trap him, and it probably wasn’t even his because I’m a slut or whatever. You came up, actually. Said since I was defending you so much in the video store, this fictional, non-existent baby could have been yours.” You give a mirthless chuckle, feeling nauseous when Steve frowns. Not with sympathy, but with worry. With anger. 

“Jesus Christ, Y/N. I’m… That’s fucked up. God.”

“Good riddance, I guess.” You wipe your damp eyes, faking another smile, but it only makes you break. 

“Hey,” Steve whispers, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Fuck him. He doesn’t deserve you. You deserve someone you can trust. Someone who’ll watch shitty romcoms with you.”

You laugh again at that, this time with humour. “They’re not shitty.”

“You’re right. Michael Douglas is a total hunk.”

“Right?” you agree. “Kinda into Kathleen Turner, too.”

“She’s smoking,” he agrees. And then you’re both laughing. Really laughing. And something is changing here, in this car, because you realise that for all his flaws, you can trust Steve Harrington with anything. 

“Hey, I’m pretty sure my mom has a copy of Romancing the Stone somewhere,” he offers. “Still wanna watch it?”

“You don’t have to pretend it’s your mom’s, Steve. If anything, owning that video only makes you way cooler than I thought you were.”

“Okay, fine,” he mumbles. “It’s mine.”

Your heart twinges with a fondness you usually hide from. “It sounds nice. Thank you.”

He pulls his keys from the ignition. Gives you another reassuring smile. “Let’s go.”

So you do, spending the rest of the night on Steve’s couch while you watch your favourite movie. And he doesn’t complain once.

[melon-wing]

Flavour Soulmate AU [Gridoc]

Warning: This is a discontinued and mostly unedited story.  If you still wanna read - just for fun - go ahead, but be aware that there most likely won’t be more. I’m just dumping all the WIP I’ll never finish for those interested. [Click here for my non-abandoned stories] ~*~

Grian hated this whole soulmate concept. It felt like somebody else decided over what you got to do with your life. He wanted to choose who he fell in love with, not some higher power or whatever being that was.

So he rebelled. He kept tasting things he hadn’t eaten and decided to ignore it. On bad days he felt petty enough and just looked for the nastiest thing he could put into his mouth. His soulmate probably hated him. But Grian didn’t care. He didn’t want to be forced into this ‘arranged marriage’.

And so he started dating someone that was most certainly not his soulmate. The first time he kissed Taurtis he wondered if their soulmates would know. If they could taste what both of them were just doing. He had pushed the thought away. He liked Taurtis even if they weren’t soulmates and Taurtis liked him. So they went on with their relationship.

That’s until one day a new member joined their server: Pearl. Grian loved her dearly. She was a good friend and an amazing builder. She was sweet and always so supportive. And then one day she popped a sweet candy into her mouth and Taurtis had looked at her like the sun had just risen. Grian would never forget that moment.

They kept on dating for another week. Taurtis kept looking at Pearl, handing her little sweet treats, probably to test out his theory and Grian could see the way those two interacted. After that week he broke up with Taurtis. He wanted to be the one in control. He wouldn’t let those damn soulbonds decide who he was supposed to see and who not. It had been his own decision to break things off.

The day Pearl announced that she had started dating Taurtis, Grian had pretended to be happy and smiled along with them, biting his tongue so hard to keep himself from saying anything he’d regret that blood filled his mouth.

A few seconds passed and suddenly a sweet taste filled his mouth. A taste he recognised: A Healing Potion. It wasn’t as potent as when he drank one himself, but at least the bleeding stopped and only a dull ache remained.

And for a second the thought crossed his mind that maybe having a soulmate wasn’t all to bad. He buried that thought as fast as he could and went on with his business. That was until everything changed.

The day the watchers took him, they gave him the ability to block off his soulbond. He gladly took the opportunity, feeling the bond close and finally being free of the reminder that he hadn’t been able to rebel against fate.

~

Doc awoke one night in cold sweat, not really sure, what had his heart racing like it did. Something felt off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Nothing had changed around his base and there was nothing around here that endangered him. Why did he feel so off?

And then he tasted it… Void air, dragon breath and potions. The flavour wasn’t that strong any more. So his soulmate must have been fighting the dragon while he had been asleep.

With a sigh he went over to his food-chest, looking around it in thoughts. It had taken him some time and recording all replies, but by now he had it pretty much down, which food his soulmate liked… or at least didn’t dislike.

He remembered that one time he had eaten a Pumpkin Pie and his soulmate had retaliated by drinking swamp water. His friends made fun off him for having such a high maintenance soulmate, but Doc liked the attitude. He was looking forward to the day they would meet. Living in a world as closed off as Xisuma’s did sometimes have its disadvantages.

He had tried sending messages with the things he ate, but his soulmate either didn’t get those messages or had chosen to ignore them. But Doc believed in the power of a soul bond. Their paths would cross for sure.

Four days later, Doc was on edge.

It had been seven whole days and he hadn’t tasted anything his soulmate had eaten. The first few days he tried to reassure himself. One didn’t need to eat every day. And maybe Doc had missed it while he had been sleeping. But for a week? A person would need to eat.

His soulmate not having to eat… That could only mean one thing.

Doc thought back to the night where his soulmate had fought the dragon and the strange feelings in his gut.

His soulmate was dead.

~~~

Grian looked at the portal, excitement shining in his eyes. He had been stuck in the Watcher’s domain for far too long. Sure, learning about magic and stuff had been interesting, but he yearned to be just building again. He had begged and pleaded with the Watchers to let him have a world of his own to watch over and finally they agreed.

He was to be sent to a world called Hermitcraft to disguise as a regular player and report back to the Watchers what was happening. He was grateful for the opportunity and he would make the best out of it.

“I’ll see you soon”, he said, smiling at his mentor, giving a little wave and then stepping through the portal.

When he stepped out of the portal he was on a little island and there were multiple people around, staring at him in confusion. Grian waved at them with an uncertain smile on his lips, his wings fluttering a little behind him.

“Hello there… I think my portrait malfunctioned. I was supposed to land in a world without people.”, he told them the little lie they had planned ahead

~*~ A/N: This was based on a lot of asks my friend @ gridoc   was getting about tasting the same things your soulmate does. I wrote this a while back. in 2020. This was supposed to be about Grian being sent by the watchers to hermitcraft to observe and guide them and him falling in love with Doc. Both of them don’t realise they’re soulmates due to Grian blocking the bond. Doc even tells him his soulmate is dead. They fall for one another and something happens that reopens that bond making them realise they’re one another’s soulmate.

[sukirichi]

happy little accidents

— Life is a series of unfortunate events, but sometimes, there are happy little accidents.

REQUEST. (accidental pregnancy, fuck buddies au) + childhood friends to lovers + baby moments with father! megumi

CONTENT/WARNINGS. slight smut, slight exhibitionism (I think? there’s a CCTV lmao) just daddy megumi uwu

NOTES. hi anon, thank you for requesting and joining the event! I have to admit...I don’t really know how to write this and I just had to ask my mother about her experiences in pregnancy LMAO. I apologize in advance if this sucks, I’m pretty good at fluff but domestic and cute stuff with children isn’t my expertise asggkhl I’m awkward around babies and kids so anyways, I hope you like it! OH AND ALSO I HAVE A CAMEO LMAO

Megumi’s hands runs up under your shirt, bringing about a shiver forward when his cold fingers come into with your warm skin. You feel him smile onto the kiss, his grip nothing but teasing before he brushes the underside of your breast, prompting you to grip closer to his hoodie. You and him were childhood friends; having always liked one another until playing house was no longer a game a but dream, but his family was too strict and controlling – they’ve made it clear long ago this relationship could never and would never happen.

His Uncle Naoya made sure of it.

But that didn’t stop the both of you. All the way from highschool until now in your university days, you and Megumi are still stuck together by the hip, occasionally fucking whenever time allowed. Weekdays are spent staring longingly at each other in the hallways, the weekends flourishing into finally’s and hushed kisses under the sheets, completely unaware of the world you both trudged in.

Today was one of those days, and you’re nothing less of passionate as you swipe your tongue out to taste his lips, smiling when you realize he’s also grown used to wearing your mint flavoured lip balm. “Mhm, Megumi, I missed you,” you placed your legs beside his arms, a contented sigh entering his mouth as he closed his eyes.

“You miss me? I’m always around you,” he reminds you, pulling away momentarily to tug your shirt to the side where he leaves a soft patch of kisses. “Never gonna leave your side, baby.”

“You better not. I’m the best you’ll ever have.”

Megumi nods wholeheartedly in agreement, not wasting time before he pulls you closer to him. You’re almost weightless as you crash on top of him, hands tangled into the other’s hair and his large palm squeezing your breast. It produces a breathy moan from you, a thread of saliva connecting your lips when it comes again – that hellish bitter and sour bile that flows up to your throat. You push yourself off him and run to the bathroom, the content of your stomachs poured while your groans echo around the room.

He’s beside you in an instant, crouching beside you to pull your hair up and pat your back. Once you’ve finished throwing up, you clutch at the indistinguishable bloating of your stomach, leaning back into his touch while you slowly regain your composure.

Your head is throbbing uncomfortably again, one that wouldn’t go away no matter how much you press your thumbs against it.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Are you sick or something?”

You chuckle a bit from the way he frets over you, hands tilting your cheeks side to side while he pales, a sheen of worry visible on his hairline. He’s always been such a worrywart. You look behind him and see the box of condoms in your half-open medicine cabinet, the sight making your heart drop in your chest.

“Megs...when was the last time we had sex?”

“Well,” he scratches the back of his head, “We’ve both been busy from uni, so...last month, I guess? It’s been a long time.”

You swallowed audibly. You’ve recently gotten that box of condoms because if you remember correctly, last time you both skipped straight to the deed after realizing you ran out of it. Eyes flicking over his confused ones, your throat ran dry and itchy from the throw up session, your voice low as you say, “I’m three weeks late on my period, Megs.”

He looks just as shocked as you are, but he doesn’t give you the time to recover before he rushes out into your apartment. For a moment, you’re left heartbroken at the cold bathroom tiles, thinking that he left, but Megumi comes back a few minutes later, a pregnancy test kit and some chocolates inside a plastic bag. Your eyes widen when he gently ushers you to sit on the toilet, his feet tapping impatiently on the floor while you both wait for the result.

And there it is.

The timer on his phone goes off. Megumi rushes beside you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he blinks at the test kit. He turns to you and blinks in question, wondering what the hell it meant.

“’Gumi...it’s positive,” you cry out, sending him into a stagger backwards when you jump at him. Thankfully, he’s carried you too many times to count that he’s natural at hoisting you into his arms, still rendered speechless as you announce, “You’re going to be a dad!”

It’s been five whole months since you and Megumi turned into being stable fuck buddies, intent on hiding your relationship from both your families, into homeless and young parents whose fear over life and the future only increased tenfold now with the growing baby inside you.

You still remember that dreadful moment when both of you are kicked out into your family estate, Megumi’s Uncle Naoya especially enraged over the news. He doesn’t even give his nephew a chance to pack his bags before he signals the bodyguards to escort you out, then takes away all Megumi’s privileges and former luxury of being part of the Zenin Clan. You assume he’d want to strangle his pitiful Uncle for the never ending mistreatment, but your now boyfriend is nothing but happy, relieved that he’s been freed from the tight reins that always got in both your way.

Unbeknownst to the controlling Zenin Clan head, his wife is much more cunning than he is. He knows his wife always had some sorts of tricks hidden up in her sleeve, but even you were surprised when Megumi’s Aunt Suki shows up in your college dorm one day, throwing a set of keys your way with a wink before driving off back to become Naoya’s beloved trophy wife.

She lent you one of her high-estate apartments and even a humble car, silently wiring fees into your bank account since Megumi’s was already shut down.

Truly, if it wasn’t for her, you and Megumi wouldn’t be able to live this comfortably no matter how much both of you worked your ass off.

Now, none of you had to worry about not getting to make ends meet, no more worrying about putting your health at risk by working two jobs a day along with university – you and Megumi agreed to take advantage of her kindness just until the baby was born, opting to live quietly and comfortably in your shared home that would soon be filled with more memories. Well, as comfortably as you both could anyway, since pregnancy – although a beautiful experience – wasn’t always rainbows and unicorns.

Megumi comes home one day, the food you’ve always been craving from the Chinese restaurant from the other town present inside his bag. He’s tired from uni, even more so that he shares your burden of becoming new parents, but every time he comes home to you, all his exhaustion is wiped away, especially with the evident growth of your belly.

Your boyfriend runs up to you after placing the food on the counter, his arms wide open to get a hug – he’s gotten extremely touchy ever since the pregnancy – when you reel away from him, face turning green.

Your fingers come to pitch at your nose, eyes narrowed at his confused pout. “Ugh, Megumi, your deodorant stinks.”

“You were the one who got this for me, though,” his brows furrow as he lifts his sleeve up to sniff himself. He doesn’t smell bad... “You said you liked it on me,” he mumbles more to himself than you, staying still in his spot when he sees how colourless you’ve become. “Why are you looking at me like that? I showered today.”

“I can’t stand the smell of you, I can’t, gosh,” pushing past him, you rush to the toilets, the morning sickness well present all the way until sundown as you throw up. Megumi stands at the doorway, hands extended in front of him as he’s unsure whether he could help you or not. You firmly shake your head at him, lips turned into a sneer. “No, don’t get near me or I will honestly whack you with my purse, Megumi. Get rid of that deodorant and find a scent free one or something.”

Megumi is left with a slack jaw when you hop into bed afterwards, too tired and irritated to finish your papers. Seeing that he should probably do the same and pamper you instead, Megumi is silent as he crawls under the covers, only to be kicked out with a harsh kick to his thigh and a fiery, “Get out!”

“Nobara,” he whines into the phone, too fearful to even look at the bedroom at the thought that you’d feel his gaze and get even angrier. Your instincts and senses sharpens with each passing day; he won’t risk it. “My girlfriend hates me!”

“I could see why.”

Megumi groans at his friend’s flippant tone, the sound of a nail file grazing acrylics mixed with lo-fi music playing from the other line. “I’m serious – she doesn’t even want me a foot near her! When I tried to join her on the bed, she literally woke up just to hit me with a pillow. Right in the face!”

“Let me guess, you’re banned from the bedroom and staying on the couch?”

“Yeah, I am,” he sulks on the couch, “I don’t know why she hates me. I can’t imagine what I did wrong.”

“You don’t have to do anything wrong for a pregnant woman to hate you, Fushiguro. It’s not your fault your face is just really annoying,” Megumi makes a sound of protest before slapping a hand over his lips, nervous gaze darting at your door again. He relaxes into the seat; you’ve probably fallen asleep. “But on a more serious note, I think it’s the hormones. She’s erratic right now and you can’t blame her, she’s literally growing a child inside of her, dude, are you crying?”

“She might divorce me because of my deodorant.”

“Idiot, you two aren’t even married!” Nobara bellows loud enough that Megumi pulls the phone away from his ear, waiting until she’s calmed down and continues speaking like she didn’t just burst his ear drums. “Listen, just be extra sweet and careful around her, okay? Don’t open your mouth as well unless you want to die. Now get a notepad or something, we’re going to devise the best Baby Mama Seduction Plan that is guaranteed to win her heart.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Nobara!”

“Hmph, you owe me tickets to that fashion show though. Get your rich ass uncle to pull some connections or something.”

“Nobara, you know I can’t—”

“Oh shit, is that your girl about to kick you in the face?” Megumi yelps as his body flips at the direction of your room, both hands raised in surrender with his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder. He sighs – the door is still closed – he should be safe for now. Meanwhile, Nobara snickers cockily, almost as if she could see everything. As always, Nobara was triumphant. “That’s right, we both don’t want that to happen, so stick to your end of the deal man.”

Megumi stays up the whole night to execute Nobara’s plan. It’s tiring to run back and forth in the open convenience stores just to fill the fridge up with all your favourite food, but Megumi is determined to have you accept him again, even if he knows you’re not actually rejecting him.

By the time you’ve woken up, all beautiful and glowing as you pad out your room, Megumi stands up straight to conceal his body ridden with exhaustion. He just wants to make you happy.

“What’s all this?”

“You’ve been working hard,” he starts off unsurely, a hand scratching the back of his head as he gauges for your reaction. You plop down on the dining table and don’t scowl as you take a whiff of the food, blinking for a few seconds before you dig in. It’s enough for him to take as a go-signal, and he walks beside you carefully, his voice wavering and soft. “I just wanted to surprise you – show you how much I love and admire you...all that.”

“That’s suspicious,” you mouth through a mouthful of dumpling, but smile anyways with your arms extended. “Come here, give me a kiss.”

Megumi is beyond elated as he buries himself in the warmth of your arms again, sighing when you kiss his cheeks and jaw. “Are we good?”

“Did you replace your deodorant?”

“Yes...”

“Good boy,” you kiss him on the lips this time. Megumi has the audacity to blush as if he didn’t just fuck a baby into you, making you laugh before you slap his ass, last night’s irration now replaced with a reminder that this was Megumi – your first love and everything more. There was no way you wouldn’t be ‘good’ with him; you’d go to heavens and back for him, but maybe once you’re done birthing his child. “Yeah, we’re good. Get the mint choco ice cream pint for me?” Megumi sprints to perform your commands, and you reward him by pulling him in for a deeper kiss the time, his lips so sweet and minty. You can’t help but sigh, falling for him over and over again. “You’re such a sweetheart, Megs. This is why I’m head over heels for you.”

“You didn’t want me sleeping beside you for a week straight though.”

Your nose scrunches at the memory – that slight change in your expression making Megumi step back – as you wave a spoon at him, glaring at him in warning. “Like I said, you stank.”

But...pregnancy wasn’t all that bad for the both of you. There were times you’re unable to keep your hands off him. Although unexpected and mostly occurring in the most inconvenient situations, Megumi can’t say he’s complaining, especially not when you push him towards the wall just as the elevator doors closed.

“Daddy,” you moan, guiding his hands into your already soaking wet panties. Megumi breathes sharply as he cups your drenching core, wondering how you’ve gotten this aroused without him doing anything sexual in particular.

The nickname spilling past your lips is unforeseen though, as is his growing kink for it when he hardens immediately.  

“Please, please, please, I need you so much – make me feel good, will you?”

Megumi has to pin your needy, trailing hands all over his chest down to your sides, his pupils blown wide as the elevator ascends from one floor to the other. His eyes dart to the blinking red light from the cameras, his Adam’s apple bobbing when you don’t stop in the slighthest, only leaning forward to tug and nip at the skin of his neck. Megumi groans at your ministrations; you know very well that was his sensitive spot. “Y/N, we’re literally in the elevator, just wait until we get back home—”

When Megumi tries to push you away to stop your hands from palming his boner, you growl, eyes fierce and heated as you turn to him. “Do you want me to chop your dick off and prevent you from having a second child?”

“N-no.”

“Then shut up and fuck me.”

“Fuck, okay, don’t blame me if I make you sore, though.”

You roll your eyes at him, your hands moving expertly as you bunch your skirt up to your waist to show him that your bud was already swollen just for him. “Megumi, my boobs are already are its most sore point, I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Megumi makes quick work of shoving his pants down just to his knees, gentle yet needy as he pushes your chest flat on the walls, round and perky ass puckered for him to take you already. He could cum just from the sight of you bending over for him like this, your arousal already dripping down your thighs as you wiggle your hips at him, breathless in the desire to be taken once more.

There were still fifteen floors to go before you reached your destination. Megumi’s brows pinch together in anxiety that anyone could press for the lift, but you’re also submissively bent over for him, moaning and gasping his name even when it’s only the tip of his cock sliding into you.

He sees the way your fingers hover over the buttons, clearly more prepared to shut the doors and deny others entry than he was, and he thinks fuck it to himself before he buries himself deep into you, head thrown back at the heavenly and salacious feeling of fucking you raw. You’re somehow warmer and tighter, wetter with puffier lips during your second trimester. Just as he blanches at the thought he could hurt you, he remembers the doctor’s encouragement of more sex. Being the good boyfriend he is, Megumi fucks hard into you, groaning and panting when your walls clamp down on him.

He only wants to help you.

Days of rubbing your feet and singing to your belly were gone – now replaced with laughter pouring into your house and switching from listening to Mother Mother into actually enjoying nursery rhymes playing from the stereo.

It feels just like yesterday when he rushes you to the emergency room, your hand nearly crushing his during your contractions before you gave birth to his child.

Megumi has never really been much of an emotional person, preferring to be calm and stoic unless you’re around; the rare times he actually lets his walls down. Surrounded by a group of doctors, though, Megumi stops caring about saving face when they hand him his daughter. He isn’t the least bit embarrassed when he sobs upon seeing the tiny bundle of joy in his arms, so small and vulnerable that promised there and then – he’d do everything he can to protect his child and give them the best future.

Fushiguro Megumi is a hands-down helicopter dad. The moment you’re able to take your daughter back home, he’s already had the whole house baby proofed. Along with studying for his exams, he’s also switching back and forth to parenting guide books.

You can tell he’s taking his job as a dad very seriously. Megumi doesn’t hesitate to shoot out of the bed in the middle of the night whenever he hears his daughter cry, racing you to her crib while he rocks her back and forth and you prepare her milk. You’re both utterly tired and sleep deprived, your head resting on his shoulder as your baby calms down in his arms. Faintly, you feel him kiss the top of your head, encouraging you to go back to sleep with the assurance he can handle it.

But of course, you’re the stubborn parent, and you drag your boyfriend and daughter back to bed, making sure there was enough space to make her comfortable before falling asleep.

Being a parent – especially with the love of your life – has never felt any more magical.

Of course, it was hard and definitely not a walk in the park, but it was worth it. Every time you came home from school, Megumi would already be there, his daughter babbling nonsensically in his arms while he prepared her meals. At the sounds of the door opening, both of them would run to you, showering you with kisses while you did the same.

Both your families have still refused to accept you back – not that you both minded – but it was getting shameful to keep relying on his relative to provide for your family. Eventually, you and Megumi decided that the other stays to take care of your baby while you work after class.

You’re staggering inside your home like a zombie after a long day, muscles aching from too much work and brain barely functioning due to the lack of sleep. With a long, drawn out sigh, you plop on the couch next to your boyfriend who jolts back awake, still careful not to let his drooling daughter wake up in his arms. Upon seeing it’s just you, Megumi leans over to kiss you on the nose, smelling sweetly of floral detergent powder and baby cologne.

“Welcome home,” he murmurs at your skin, your eyes already fluttering close at the comfort and warmth of home. “Scarlet is fast asleep. She couldn’t wait for you to kiss her goodnight anymore.”

“Don’t be dramatic. Mommy will always come home to the two most precious people in the world,” Now, it’s your turn to kiss Megumi to remind him he’s also doing a great job. You know he’s working just as hard you are, and you honestly don’t think you could do this without him. “Megumi,” you begin, tracing soft circles into his wrist to feel his lulling heartbeat.

“Hmm?”

“Have I ever told you I loved you?”

“I think I know that already,” he smiles romantically at you – even after years, you’re still very much smitten with that smile, and the sight of him and your daughter alone has you relaxing back in your seat.

“Yes, but you need to hear it again,” you tell him, cupping his face into your palms. Megumi sighs as he leans closer into your warmth, his hands patting your daughter’s back to soothe her in her slumber. “You’re such a natural at this – being a father. I’m really lucky I had a family with you. It’s all I ever wanted,” Burying yourself closer into his arms and collecting the both of them into an embrace, you smile into his shoulder, feeling like you’re on cloud nine. “I don’t think life is gonna get better than this, Megs. I’m so happy right now I feel like I could die.”

“Don’t say the d-word around her,” he jokes, the two of you sharing tired and dry laughter. Once the amusement subsides, Megumi’s other hand shifts to squeeze your thigh to get your attention. “Y/N...do you ever think about...making us official?”

“What do you mean?” you mumble sleepily, “How else official could we get? We live together and we have a baby. Soon, we’re going to be employed too and then we can provide better for her and stop relying on Aunt Suki so much,” Megumi nods above you, but his lack of response is worrying that you look up to him, frowning as you see that his face is pulled deep into thought. “We’re already a family, Megs. What’s on your mind?”

“I want to marry you,” he blurts out, “I want to make you mine and mine only – I see a future and a forever with you,” Megumi looks you straight in the eye the whole time. “Marry me, Y/N. Please.”

You’re rendered speechless.

You love him so much, you really do, and nothing about that will change. After spending a lifetime with you, Megumi knows just by looking at your face that there’s a but coming afterward and he clenches his jaw, sadness swirling in his eyes that you have to stop him before his thoughts run off again. “I want that too, Megumi, believe me,” you reassure, brushing his hair back with your fingers; a gesture that always pulled him back to you. “I just don’t want to rush things, you know? We can still barely stand on our own and we have Scarlet to worry about. I think we should focus more on her future than ours.”

Megumi nods, albeit disappointed, though this doesn’t stop him from kissing you straight on the lips before he mutters, “I understand but...think about it, at least?”

“You already know my answer would be yes.”

“Scarlet! I wonder where my little princess is hiding,” Megumi announces from outside your room, your toddler giggling beside you as you both hide behind the closet hand-in-hand. Four years later, you and Megumi are married, and life’s gotten a lot easier – in addition to it being a whole lot more domestic since Megumi takes his husband title just as seriously as being a father. Right now, he’s crawling outside, his voice lowered in an attempt to be scary. ��If I find her, she’s going to face the wrath of the tickle monster!”

“Tickle monster!” Scarlet gasps beside you, turning to you with wide eyes. “Mummy, I don’t want tickles!”

“Then we better be quiet so Daddy doesn’t find us!”

With your voice intentionally louder than a whisper, it doesn’t take long before Megumi opens the closet doors, carrying you both effortlessly before dropping you all down onto the bed. “I found you!” You all tickle each other and laugh, your daughter falling into panicked squeals while you chortle at the side. Megumi then hoists Scarlet up before the both of you kiss both sides of her cheeks, sending the giggling child into an utter ticklish mess.

While the two are busy tickling one another, you feign a gasp, clutching at your husband’s bicep.  “Megumi!” your eyes widen, pointing deftly at the kitchen with trembling lips for effect. “Can you please check the oven – I think I left something in there and it might be burning!”

“I don’t smell anything,” is all he says, but runs there anyway. Megumi stands in front of in confusion, Scarlet safely bundled in his arms while her father opens the oven, frowning as he takes the object out and inspects it. “Mittens? But Scarlet is already—” Just then, Megumi’s jaw drops, his grin stretched wide while Scarlet keeps poking at the mittens, trying to make them fit into her slightly larger hands. “No way. Another one?”

“Another candy?”

You laugh at Megumi’s beaming face that matches his daughter’s – the two looking too much alike – but for completely opposite reasons. “We’ll get you all the candies you want, sweetheart,” you swipe a candy from the counter and hand it to your daughter’s grabby hands, pecking Megumi’s cheeks who is still beyond flustered at the announcement. “But yeah we have another one – and it’s a boy!”

[parvulous-writings]

Karl Heisenberg // SFW alphabet

Request: So there was no actual request, I just knew this would cheer up my closest friend. 

Dedicated to: @rey-is-not-a-skywalker

Summary: A sfw A-Z for Karl Heisenberg, from Resident Evil Village!

Warnings: Explicit language

Notes: Please, have some Soft!Heisenberg, bor. It’s one of the many, many things you deserve.  To those who have requested oneshots- I am working on them, please be patient! My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!

Not my gif

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) 

He’s never affectionate publicly. Behind closed doors, though- well maybe he’s not your stereotypical lovey-dovey type, but hey-ho, he shows it in his own little way. A few hugs, but mostly through making you things. Music boxes, little figures and robots that wind up, you name it, he’ll try and make it. 

B - Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? Where does the friendship start?)

He’s not a friendly man, typically. He’s cold, and driven only by his motives. It takes a long time for him to warm up to you, but when he eventually does he is always by your side, whenever you should need him. Be it for violence, or for an ear to pour your thoughts into- even though half the time you swear he’s not listening completely. 

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Heisenberg likes warm cuddles above all others. The kind where he can pull you close and hold you there for a while- he likes feeling you against his chest. It’s comforting to him, after years of no affection and a torturous living experience. 

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking, cleaning, ect?)

Karl is not particularly skilled in any domestic skill. He’s very mediocre at cooking, and he can’t clean to save his life- his factory is littered with dust and other probably very harmful particles. He isn’t very good in a domestic environment at all, really. 

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Blunter than a broken pencil I’m afraid. He’s never had to hide something from you in the past, so why should this be any different? He would not want to beat around the bush here, he’d annoy himself with pleasantries and euphemisms. 

F - Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? Do they wanna get married?)

He’s perfectly fine staying as partners, without marriage looming over the pair of you. Quite frankly, he doesn’t think it’s worth it.  “A piece of damn paper to show someone your fucking devotion? Bullshit.” 

G - Gentle (How gentle are they both physically and emotionally?)

Unless you’re shaking like a leaf or have specifically asked him to be gentle with or around you, he’s not going to be. He’ll treat you much how he treats most others- with a little bit of affection for zest and flavour every now and then. 

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it, and what are they like?)

While he likes cuddles, he isn’t a huge fan of hugs. He thinks they’re too short to show any real affection, and often get in the way of whatever task the recipient is trying to perform.  

I - I Love You (How fast do they say the “love” word?)

S l o w l y. This man has gone through some stuff, and doesn’t want to get attached to people despite falling for you. Give him a chance. 

J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What are they like when jealous?)

Okay so he may be “non-committal” in a loose sense of the term, but this man is one jealous motherfucker. And he gets angry. I’m talking  punching the wall, lashing out and breaking shit kind of angry. It’s mostly because of a nagging fear that not only will he lose you to someone you think is better or less monstrous than he is, but also in part due to a feeling that because of what he was forced to become, he isn’t good enough to keep you for himself. 

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He kisses you on your hands or neck mostly. Those are his favourite places to kiss you. He occasionally kisses you on the inside of your wrist. If you have any scars as well, he’ll kiss them. 

L - Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

It depends. Sometimes he’s the perfect uncle figure, others he’s a whirlwind of rage. If you’re taking him to see some children for a prolonged amount of time, please check how he’s acting and feeling on the day so there isn’t some sort of horrific accident. 

M - Morning (What are mornings like with them?)

There’s nothing special about them, he’s usually up long before you are. He doesn’t leave anything like a hot beverage behind, unless it’s a special occasion that he’s remembered- like a birthday or anniversary. 

N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

He often tells you to go to bed before him, as he’s usually working on something, and would rather not have to worry about you being down in his factory and workshop. 

O - Open (When do they open up about themselves?)

When he’s extremely angry. He gets riled up, then will start to spill facts and secrets while hardly even realising it. 

P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He has a very short fuse and a violent temper, to say the least. There’s a reason the man swears so much. Though he will often apologise if he’s scared you after an outburst. 

Q - Quizzes (How much do they remember about you?)

He remembers the basic things at the very least- Your name, your habits on eating and drinking, what you do to amuse yourself. He’s quite observant, actually. 

R - Remember (Favorite memory with you?)

He made you a small music box once. The past part of his day, or his entire week, was seeing your smile as you opened it and listened to it for the first time. It was the widest he’d ever seen you smile, and he loved the feeling it gave him. 

S - Security (How protective are they?)

Very. One particular other Lord- “Lady Super-Sized Bitch,” as Heisenberg has dubbed her- is very interested in your presence, and Heisenberg has made it very much his business to keep you practically under lock and key to keep you safe. And when Ethan Winters comes around? Ooh, boy. You ain’t leaving his sight. 

T - Try (How much effort do they put in?)

He does try- through making trinkets and gadgets to both help you and show his affection. Sometimes it may not always seem that way though, with his outbursts and his tantrums. 

U - Ugly (What are their bad habits?)

He smokes. You tried to get him to quit once, then stopped when you realised it made him more irritable. 

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s not that concerned. If he’s still kicking... Well that’s all that matters to him. 

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He’d feel that something’s wrong, something’s not right- a cog missing from a machine, in a sense. And he hates that feeling. 

X - Xtra (Random HC)

This man would die for some ice-cream. You bring him a tub of the stuff- BAM, instant good mood for the next like two days. 

Y - Yuck (Things they don’t like either in general or a partner?)

This man is not fussy, in the slightest. 

Z - Zzz (Sleep habits)

He basically doesn’t, he gets so little it’s a wonder he can actually function normally. 

[writingfics-passingtime]

Playing the Part

~8300 words of steamy Loki tickle fluff

PG13 for this one, kids. Lots of making out.

CW: some swearing, suggestive humour, mentions of murder/death, alcohol consumption

Every job has its ups and downs, and every employee their good days and not-so-good days. You’d hardly classify yourself as an employee because you didn’t get a paycheque, your entire occupation was a hazard unto itself, human-resources was punching it out on the sparring mat and your boss was either a 100-year-old super soldier or an eccentric billionaire, depending on the day and who was wearing what suit.

Wait… should I be getting paid for this?

Looking around your room that you paid no rent on, in a multi-billion dollar superhero compound, you decided that wasn’t a question you were ever going to ask. The question of the hour was which dress would best conceal your thigh-holstered gun.

Today, your job entailed one of those tasks that could be fun if you decided it would be, or hell if you had a bad attitude about it. You prided yourself on always being up for any mission, so that answered that question, though infiltrating some black-tie gala undercover was never as exciting as fighting alien forces.

You gave up feeling guilty about being a little excited when Earth faced threats long ago; no one had to know that impending planetary destruction was your favourite kind of mission to help out on.

Selecting a red strapless dress from the middle of your mission closet (which was differentiated because most of these dresses were bulletproof) you slipped it on over your underwear and thigh holster. A knock came at your door as you were reaching behind yourself to zip it up.

“Come in!”

“Agent, we- oh… Oh.” Loki’s featured turned from surprised to playfully smug in a matter of seconds.

“Can you get this zipper?” You winced at the stuck metal. He nodded and approached, you turned and held the fabric up. Before he even made it halfway to you he gave a brief wave of his hand and used his magic to unstick the zipper, bringing it to the top.

“Thanks,” you smiled, familiar with that particular kind of help from Loki. “Can you see my gun?” You did a little spin and he shook his head. “Great. You look nice," you commented, gesturing to his impeccable black suit.

“As do you.”

“Ready?”

”I suppose there are worse charades to play on a Saturday evening. Ones that don’t include fine wine and the prospect of a tussle with a Midgardian security man.”

You shot him a look as you two walked towards the garage together. “You said no Midgardian wine could be classed as fine.”

“Save for one region in Italy, I’ve discovered.” Loki shrugged, tightening the fastener on his cuff link.

You gave him a mock look of shock. “Are you telling me… you were wrong?“

“Smugness is not becoming, Agent,” Loki playfully warned.

“Hmm,” you narrowed your eyes. “Looks like I’m spending too much time with you.”

You bickered and bantered good-naturedly as you entered the garage, which was more like a hangar but only for cars. This mission would be you, Loki, Natasha, Sam and, strangely enough, Tony wanted to drive the van. He gave some excuse about wanting to test some new equipment and spend time with his team. Though you knew it was because Pepper wanted him to attend her aunt’s seventieth birthday, and Tony had a long-standing feud with that particular aunt ever since she went on a forty-five minute tirade about how much she hated Led Zeppelin. You weren’t sure if it was the sentiment behind it, or the fact that she could talk for forty-five minutes straight without the awareness to stop. Either way, Tony was on the job tonight.

“Black Widow is already onsite,“ Tony handed you three some photos as you entered and took your seats. “Your names are on the door, fake ones obviously, here they are.” Tony pulled up some information on the screens and then commanded the self-driving van to go with a few taps at a holographic control centre.

You went over the plan, the objective, who to avoid at all costs, where the gun was supposedly hidden. There was a gun used in a murder of a journalist - the employee of an old friend of Tony's, a young guy working on an exposé of a filthy-rich family dynasty in New York City. The journalist was sure the McDane family money came from arms dealing, but he was found dead just a few short months after he started investigating. The following week, Charles, the charming and likeable newly-married eldest son of the family, announced his run for mayor.

Whether Charlie McDane ordered the murder, or if he didn't even know it happened, Tony's source said this family kept trophies of their victories and the murder weapon would most definitely still be in the house.

On the face of it, it was an unusual assignment for the Avengers. If you didn't think that hard about it, you could have just sent Nat in alone. However, the McDane family was even more powerful than they loved to show on the surface, and this wouldn't be a simple theft. Hence, a small team was going in to avenge the fallen journalist.

Natasha had been planted on the inside, posing as an event manager for a soirée the family was hosting to celebrate Charlie’s birthday and, since he’d invited everyone in the political and social scene, it was the perfect chance to enter the mansion; there’s no way he’d know who each and every person was and should be.

As you walked down the road with your arm slotted through Loki's, you eyed the metal detectors at the front entrance. You gripped his arm and slid your hand into the pocket of your dress, but the pocket was hollow and only existed as easy way to grab your gun. Wordlessly, you passed it to Loki and he concealed it with his magic in the exact same way you planned to smuggle the murder weapon out later that evening.

Maybe it was Loki's elegance or your years of training that started when you were very young, but the way you two could instinctively weave around each other's thoughts, ideas and actions without so much as a glance was something special you didn't take for granted. You both had keen senses, but there was some kind of unexplainable energy that made them align perfectly.

You never let your mind wander on nights like these. On missions. Perhaps if you were less professional you'd take a moment to fantasise about what it would actually be like to go to a party with Loki. If the way he led you through the room with a gentle hand at your waist was more than a ploy to look like an adoring couple, or if he knew your favourite wine because he cared, instead of just having heard you order it a million times before.

He kept things light with jokes and little jabs, never once crossing a boundary when fake-flirting with you, but it wasn't lost on you that it was unusual to have this kind of working relationship that had all of the chemistry with none of the awkwardness. It was almost as if it was second nature now for him to pull you a little closer when you were in a nice dress, considering you'd only worn them in front of him on missions. And so he did pull you closer as you approached the bouncer to give your names.

You spied Nat at the front, leaning around a security guard's shoulder to point to something on his list. She always played her parts so well. She stole a glance at you and Loki through her fake glasses and that was it. No indication she knew you, no special treatment, no way she'd do anything to blow this. She walked up the outdoor staircase as you gave your aliased names to the guard and flashed fake drivers licenses that were pretty much real, considering the government had created them.

Loki declined the arrival champagne for the both of you, immediately leading you to the bar. You looked at him as if to remind him that you weren't here to drink, and his subtle smirk replied that he didn't care. He ordered two glasses of a merlot from the one region in Italy that'd won his respect, passing the glass to you once it was laid on the bar.

"To the finer things," he cheers'ed your glass and you scoffed with a laugh, taking a sip of the wine. The rich flavour burst through your mouth. It was dark and deep, spiced with... with... "Cedar," he offered, reading the analysis on your face. "Rosewood, cedar and some sort of stone-fruit."

"Nectarine."

He smiled and took another sip. "We don't have that on Asgard."

"This wine is good," you nodded as you two turned and deconstructed the room and all of its guests.

It made you kind of sick seeing all of these wealthy people in one place pretending to give a damn about Charlie McDane's birthday. It's not that you liked the guy, not at all, it just felt weird to know that every person in here was the exact kind of person you hunted down. Power-hungry. This mansion may as well be a lion's den. But full of naïve lions, who had no idea two apex predators just walked in.

Just when you started wondering how many people in your line of sight had also committed murder to protect their wealth and power, you saw Natasha give a subtle signal of which way the room with the safe was. Loki saw it too.

It was upstairs, but there wasn't much cover to get upstairs. The great foyer's ceiling was three stories up, the two floors above the ground floor you were on had square balconies that let the people upstairs peer downwards into the masses. Nat's fingers adjusting her hair told you that the room was on the second floor. Thankfully, there were guests on the second floor. Under the guise of admiration for the architecture and a desire to explore the great house, you pointed out works of art to Loki as you ascended the stairs together. When you walked past Natasha she smiled politely, like a good host, and asked if you were enjoying the wine.

"It's most divine. Though, I believe my beloved may be in search of a room to powder her nose."

You would have rolled your eyes at his usual choice of asking for information if you weren't aware that security's eyes were everywhere. Even on the event manager.

"You might find what you need up the stairs, down the first hall, third door on your right."

The way her hands were motioning didn't match her hushed description, so you followed the instructions in her voice instead of the way her hands were telling you.

You allowed Loki to lead you upstairs, down the first hall. When you two were certain there were no eyes, he concealed you two with his magic. The hallway was darkened. He pressed his hand against the lock and unfastened it with an unseen pure magic and you two slipped inside. It was a large office with grand mahogany furniture, decorated exactly as you'd expect Old Money Americans to decorate their office. Right down to the bear head above the fireplace and the first edition novels sitting proudly on the shelf, probably unread by their owners. That also made you a little sick: great words sitting unread as trophies.

Scanning the room for any obvious signs of the safe, your eyes settled on a panel in the wood on the side of the desk. There was a slightly smaller gap in the wood on one side, indicating hinges. You held your hands up to Loki and he conjured thin gloves to grace your fingers, then you pressed gently on the wood to engage the latch. The panel swung open to reveal the safe. Shifting out of the way, Loki took your place and placed a gloved hand on the dial. In less than three seconds, it spun rapidly in each direction before clicking open.

"We should really consider robbing banks," you whispered as the black metal door swung open and you were met with stacks of paper and envelopes.

"Need I remind you I am a Prince? If it's gold you want, darling, say the word."

"Eh," you shrugged, feeling around for the gun. "I meant more for the thrills."

Loki chuckled as your fingers found a familiar-feeling package. You pulled the envelope out and peered inside before showing Loki the sight of a small pistol. He nodded and took it from you carefully, then concealed it in some unknown magical space close to him.

You closed the safe carefully and then your gloves disappeared. Moving quietly back to the door, you listened for several moments to make sure no one was coming. Then, you both slid out and began walking down the hall like a loving couple.

Suddenly, a guard appeared at the end of the hallway. Thinking fast, you opened the closest door to you and pushed Loki inside. There was a shout you vaguely heard before you shut and locked the door again.

"Shit," you hissed. You were in someone's bedroom. Or maybe it was a guest room, considering how clean and un-lived-in it looked. There was a fireplace, like in the office, and a large four-poster bed against one wall. In the middle of the room were two plush couches that faced each other and were side-on to the door. You two walked over to them to get the vantage of being in the centre of the room and quickly searched for an exit.

"I'll cast an illusion," Loki whispered, ready to wave his hands and make it look as if you two weren't here.

"No!" You whispered, eyes wide. "They already saw us come in here. If we disappear, they'll know something's up and lock the place down."

"Then what do you propose?" He held his hands out, annoyingly unbothered by the prospect of blowing a mission. The doorknob twisted and you both snapped your heads towards it, then back at each other.

"Sit," you hissed and shoved him back onto the sofa right behind him. He stumbled and fell with a small indignant noise of surprise. You heard the tinkling of keys and your heart beat in your chest.

"Agent?"

Knowing the security team was about to enter, you acted fast. "I'll never hear the end of this," you mumbled before sliding forward to straddle his lap. His eyebrows shot up his forehead as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and looked at him with nervous urgency. "Kiss me."

Loki didn't question it, and he certainly didn't need to be told twice. His hands found their place. One at the small of your back, one firmly gripping the hair at the nape of your neck. Then, he pulled you in for a fiery kiss.

You barely heard the door open as you lost yourself in the strength of his hold, the steady and eager grasp with which he held you. His hands found their places as if they'd been there a thousand times before, as if he knew exactly how you'd feel the safest, feel the most desired. You pulled him deeper by the back of his neck and could have sworn he made a small noise of satisfaction.

Oh no.

He kept kissing you, you kept kissing him, even after the head of the security team had cleared his throat a number of times. As much as you knew you'd already sold it, and boy you sold it well, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. Were all Asgardians this good at kissing, or was it just Loki?

Oh. No.

"HEY!"

The sudden loud command pulled you away and, much to your internal mortification, you didn't need to feign how flustered you were.

"O-oh my," you squeaked and looked up at the man, blushing profusely.

Okay, the squeak was fake, but it felt almost real.

You stayed put where you were straddling Loki's lap and grimaced when you saw Natasha, still in character, entering the room. "What's going on, I need you downstairs to- oh!" She looked a little taken aback by your position atop the prince who, you were fuming to see from the corner of your eye, had the audacity to be smirking.

"My apologies," Loki drawled in his growly regal voice, trailing his hands around to your sides. "I simply couldn't control myself, seeing my queen in this dress..." He punctuated it with an "Mmph" and a firm squeeze at your hips. You flinched and squirmed a bit under the ticklish touch, trying to keep your composure but letting a small giggle slip out. Then, catching the pleased and mischievous glint in his eye, you dug your nails into the back of his shoulder to warn him off trying that again.

"This room's off limits," the guard tilted his head towards the door and you made to move your way off of Loki's lap. Instead, with his incredible strength, he stood with his hands still at your hips, lifting you to your feet before turning and wrapping an arm around your waist.

He looked the guard up and down, "Of course, good sir." You bit your lip and blushed, cowering in Loki's hold as you exited the room together. Nat smirked at you and winked before proceeding to fall back into character and tell the guards there was a belligerent drunk man downstairs needing to be kicked out. That man would be Wilson, who was playing his part as tipsy distraction.

Loki led you down the hall and you rounded a corner, then you broke off from him and held a hand to your chest. "That was too close," you breathed deeply once, then met his eye. You glared when he saw him smirking at you.

"Do I have lipstick on my face?" He asked, feigning worry.

"Oh, shut up," you swatted his shoulder. "I did what I had to do."

"I never knew you had the passion in you, Agent," Loki smirked again. You glared once more and peeked around the corner, only to jump and hold in a yelp as Loki's pinching fingers found your hip. "I also never knew you were so ticklish."

"That's not something people advertise- cut it ouhout!" You swatted his hand and squirmed away from him as he prodded his fingers into your side. "We have the gun, let's get out of here."

"Tsk, you're no fun," Loki scoffed.

You exited the party and made your way down the block towards the van, knowing that Nat's glasses had broadcast at least the last part of your little tussle with Loki. Steeling yourself as you gripped the handle, you reminded yourself that you were a professional, and this was sometimes a hazard of the job. You needed to play it cool when the eventual teasing came.

"Hey, lovebirds," Tony quipped the second he saw your faces.

"Hey," you chuckled, stepping inside and removing your heels the second you found your seat. "We got it."

"Here," Loki closed the door behind him and pulled the enveloped gun from the magical space he'd hidden it. "So you saw the Agent's display of passion, did you?"

"You wound me, Loki," you deadpanned. "I thought we had a mutual connection."

Perhaps those words were a mistake considering all the truth behind them. However, all the best lies were founded on truth, and for now you needed to convince everyone in the van that you weren't totally freaking out because you'd felt the most passionate attraction you'd had in years with a former villain. I mean... how predictable.

Loki looked at you suspiciously as he took his seat, but something in his gaze told you he wasn't going to prod deeper on this. Not right now, at least. Not in front of everyone.

Nat and Sam joined the fray five minutes later and you all got a move-on back to the Compound. Nat poked more fun at the position she'd found you two in, and you laughed good-naturedly at all their jokes. Loki was uncharacteristically silent, and seemed to always be looking at you when you laughed and instinctively checked to see if he was laughing too.

The jokes shifted to Sam and the wine he spilled down his shirt, then the conversation shifted to the next steps of what to do with the gun, then you all arrived back.

Tony got to work dismantling his rig, declining your help, and so you took your field weapons over to the cabinet to put them back in their places. As you were unclipping the magazine from your pistol, you felt a presence behind the door. You peered around to see Loki.

"What's up?" You raised your eyebrows and snapped the case shut, then closed the door.

He looked at you meaningfully, quizzically, but didn't say anything.

"Okay..." you chuckled uncomfortably and put the latch on the door in place. "I'm going to shower."

You made to walk past him but he grabbed your upper arm, stopping you by his side. Facing different ways, he leaned in a little closer and spoke quietly. "I can spot a lie from lightyears away."

Turning to look at him, you'd probably have been caught off-guard by how close his face was if it hadn't been for the events of earlier. You shrugged, pulling your arm from his grasp. "I didn't lie."

He scoffed and also turned to look at you, eyes flitting once down to your lips, then back up to pierce your gaze with his. "You know what I meant."

You were proud of how composed you kept yourself when you shrugged again and kept walking, swallowing hard.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Never one to waste water, you took an uncharacteristically long shower. Haphazardly smearing face wash over your skin to scrub the makeup off, scrub away the flustered energy. But no amount of scrubbing could help you forget the feeling of his kiss, and shampooing the hairspray from your head only made you remember the feeling of his fingers in your hair.

You reminded yourself that it had been a very long time since you'd kissed someone. You were probably just desperate, definitely a little touch-starved in general, so the fact that it was Loki didn't matter as much as the fact that it had happened.

That's what you told yourself over and over as you threw on sweatpants and a soft long-sleeved shirt. It was cold and the marble floors could be unforgiving, so you thought it best to go for fluffy socks, but then pulled some slippered boots over the top. You didn't bother brushing your wet hair, letting it fall where it wanted as you made your way to the kitchen.

"That smells good," you commented as Nat pulled some dish out of the oven.

"Mmm," she agreed with an excited smile. "Nico is my favourite," she admitted slyly, referring to one of the chefs Pepper would call in to prepare a bunch of heatable meals during busy periods. Delivery app drivers would probably cancel the order if you tried, thinking it must be a joke that a super solider was asking for a Big Mac to be delivered to the Avengers Compound. Besides, by the time it was scanned and made sure to not contain a deadly poison, it would be cold and stale. "There's enough for you too," Nat said, pulling out another plate and serving you a steaming slice of vegetarian lasagne.

"Thanks," you smiled, still a little distracted. Of course, with someone as perceptive as Nat, that wouldn't be allowed to slip by.

She leaned against the counter and poked at her meal, not meeting your eye to keep it less direct. "You alright?"

"Hmm?" You looked up, and so did she, then you looked back down to your food and shrugged. It was no use lying to her. "I think I'm lonely," you laughed humourlessly, nervously, sadly.

"The kiss got to you," she said knowingly, placing her fork down to give you her full attention. You didn't return the favour, nervous about what you'd say if you were really talking about this. Which, as long as you were here eating dinner, you weren't really talking about it.

"It's not like I haven't kissed a fellow Agent before to keep cover," you sighed a little, shaking your head. "It's just been a while, I guess, since I've had... anything... or, someone."

"I get that," she nodded, picking up her fork again. You two ate in silence for several moments. "This is really good," she declared through an extra-large mouthful. You chuckled and nodded, swallowing another bite. After several more moments, she said quietly, "It's okay if you felt something."

That made you choke a bit. Noticeably, unfortunately. You shook your head, but didn't deny it. "No. It's not okay."

"Why not?" She asked as if you were crazy.

"It's not okay," you repeated firmly, stabbing your fork again at the lasagna. "It's not."

Before she could attempt to pry for more information, Thor and Loki entered the kitchen together. Great.

"Good evening," Thor beamed a toothless smile.

"There's more in the fridge if you're hungry," you looked up at them in an attempt to not seem as regressed in on yourself as you felt. Thor looked at your plate and nodded in approval, opening the fridge. Then you looked at Loki, fully expecting to see some kind of calculating stare as before, but his expression was soft. He looked you over, probably noticing your out-of-character hunched posture and the way your head hung a little lower than usual, and he gave you a look that was subtly laced with sympathy.

Now that made your blood boil. Who was he to feel sorry for you?

He seemed to notice the way your jaw clenched under his gaze, and opened his mouth to say something but Thor spoke first.

"There's a film Stark wants us all to watch this evening."

Nat chuckled, finishing off her dinner. "You say that like he's showing us training videos. He's just trying to bond the team over some cheesy nineties movie." She looked at you and nodded to your clothes. "You look ready for a movie night."

Before you could explain that you'd rather go to bed, Thor beamed again. "Excellent, then! We'll all be there."

Thor was always kind to you, so you didn't want to disappoint him over something so inconsequential. You smiled warmly at him and nodded. "I'm gonna go claim a good spot," you excused yourself, aware it was almost time for it to start. You quickly did your dishes and left the kitchen, making sure to get a seat on a large armchair so you made it clear you'd rather have some personal space right now, even though it was the exact opposite of what you wanted. Maybe it would be good for you though, to remember that you were alone for a reason. That this life you chose wasn't kind too love.

Gods, love. Why did you think of that word, of all the ones out there. You were spiralling. Sentiment, you corrected yourself with a swift reprimand. Sentiment, loneliness, desperation.

You busied yourself chatting to Wanda as people filtered in, taking note of how she seamlessly wove herself in and around Vision as they sat on a two-seater next to you. Determined not to look at or think of Loki or romance or kissing or anything like that, you trained your eyes on the screen as the movie started.

But you spiralled.

There were these two main characters in the movie with this undeniable bickering co-worker chemistry that reminded you of Loki, the jokes he’d whisper into your ear during meetings, the harmless mischief he’d pull to make you laugh, the way his hand felt at your lower back- NO. You couldn’t think about that.

Wanda and Vision were in your line of sight from the corner of your eye and you saw her fingers lace through his, you then saw him place a silent kiss on the crown of her head. Biting down on your tongue, you remembered Nat and Bruce, Pepper and Tony, Thor and Jane, Clint and Laura. All those people who seemed to find love, even temporary love, in the midst of all this madness.

So maybe it wasn’t this life. Maybe it was just… you.

Biting your tongue a little harder, you reminded yourself how powerless you were compared to all these super-people. Sure, many of them were human like you, but all the other humans seemed to have someone who loved them.

It felt hopeless, knowing the only person in this room who you wanted close was so extraordinarily out of your league. He was a god. You were a human. Your life was a flicker compared to his, of course he’d never waste time indulging the likes of you.

But it felt real.

Halfway through the movie you decided you couldn’t sit there and see these buddy-cop characters fall in love. You couldn’t watch Wanda and Vision so enamoured with each other. What you needed was to hit something hard, and then go to sleep. So you excused yourself without a word or a glance at anyone. It was late, anyway. You weren’t even the first one to leave.

A turn of a black-haired form told you that Loki noticed you leaving, but the lack of footsteps behind you as you walked down the silent hall told you that he hadn’t followed you.

Slipping into your room and then into some workout clothes, you jammed your headphones into your ears and put on some classical music; you weren't sure you could stand to hear any words right now. You laced your shoes a little tighter than normal and practically sprinted to the gym, very unwilling to have anyone notice you were gone and decide to come check on you.

Hitting the bag felt good. It was the perfect consolation prize for what you'd actually prefer right now, but with every crushing of your knuckles against the thick canvas you found it easier to forget how it felt to have your fingers looped through his hair. The sweat dripping down your face replaced the feeling of his breath against your skin when you'd broken the kiss, and the aching in your obliques from your tensing and turning to hit the bag took the place of any memory of his hands at your waist. The aching was here, and he was almost gone.

After a half-hour of interval sprints, it was just past midnight and you were exhausted. Not knowing how you felt about no one coming to check on you, you traipsed back to your room in silence. The faint echoing of your footsteps through the hallways made you quiet yourself further, stepping as lightly as you could to prove to yourself that you were still a good spy. Good spies don't get caught up with feelings. Your footsteps fell, dead quiet, and you regained some confidence.

Your muscles stung the next morning but in a delightful way. You'd treated yourself to another hot shower when you got back to your room, so this morning it would probably be best to have an icy one.

As the cold water hit your skin, you felt okay again. The boxing and running last night had really shaken everything out of you, only the smallest lingering of lonely desire remained and it could easily be ignored. Of course, that was easy to say. The second you walked into the kitchen to see that Loki had heard you coming and poured you a coffee you felt a tug at your chest.

His hands closed around the mug to pass it to you and you remembered how his fingers had closed around your waist. He smiled good morning and you remembered how his lips felt against yours. Holding it all in, you smiled and took the coffee, then proceeded to have a short conversation with him like a normal person would. He made jokes about last night, but not about that, and you chuckled at them. After perhaps too short a time for how long you usually chatted, you excused yourself to go do some paperwork. You caught the way his brow furrowed a little, but he didn't question you.

The next few days were more or less like this. You'd try to engage with Loki normally but spiral a little more, convincing yourself that the more you continued like you always had, the more normal things would be again. But he was just so... beautiful. Everything about him was beautiful and now you couldn't help but notice.

One evening, nearly a week after you'd kissed, you were having a bit of a vulnerable day and you walked into the kitchen for some ice cream. Loki had just finished cleaning up after his dinner and turned to say hello, but you couldn't do it. You just turned and walked right back out again. He called after you but you didn't stop. It's not like you were going to cry in front of him, but you just couldn't do this right now.

Seeking refuge in your bedroom, you shut the door and slid down to the floor with your back against it. An immediate soft knock frustrated you, especially knowing who it probably was. You sighed and stood.

“Hey,” you greeted Loki with a nod when you opened the door, immediately turning away to make it look like you were about to do something else. “What’s up?”

Loki stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, which made you stop and give him your attention. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied.

He squinted for the faintest second and smiled a little sadly. “Light years,” he reminded you how he could spot a lie without harshly calling you out. It pained you that he didn’t. That his lack of sarcasm indicated that he saw you as a bit fragile right now.

You sighed a little and ducked your head to the side, conceding the point. “I’m a little haywire,” you admitted. “I think I need to get some stress out and go to sleep.”

”What troubles you?”

Ah. What a question.

You didn’t want to shut him out, but you certainly didn’t know how to explain that one simple kiss undercover had brought a massive crashing wave of insecurity and anxiety that made you feel completely unlovable. Or... maybe you could just say that?

You were silent for so long that Loki spoke again.

“I’d like to offer my apologies,” he said very diplomatically. “If I overstepped the bounds of our relationship.”

“I’m the one that made you kiss me,” you winced. “I should be apologising.”

”I didn’t mean that,” Loki shook his head. “I meant after, when we returned. When I cornered you.”

You had to laugh. “You didn’t corner me, Loki. I appreciate you wanting to make me feel better but you have nothing to apologise for.”

”Very well. But you didn’t make me,” he replied firmly.

“I know, I know…” you rolled your eyes. “A god submits to no one, I just meant that I put you in a situation that I shouldn’t have. Believe me, I’m paying the price.”

That last part came out a little faster than you’d intended it to. In fact, you didn’t really mean to say that last part out loud at all. Or maybe you did. What a perfect Freudian Slip. Quickly collecting yourself, you spotted your headphones and went to pick them up but noticed that Loki was taking slow steps towards you.

”Paying the price?” He asked carefully. You stopped and folded your arms, shrugging.

“People poke fun, you know.” You bit your tongue. Then, you saw him smirk a little. Ah. Lightyears.

“I thought we had a mutual connection,“ he raised his eyebrows, teasing you with your joke from That Night. You gave him a firm stare, but couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t that far away now.

“Loki, that was-“

“A thinly veiled truth,” he interjected, leaving no room for debate. He also left very little room between the two of you. You opened your mouth to respond, seemed to not be able to, and he smirked at your speechlessness.

"Y-you can't." You shook your head. "There's no way."

"There's no way, what?" A smiled tugged at his lips at the way your eyes widened when he took a strand of your hair and wrapped it once around his finger.

"... Mutual?"

“Now that we won’t be interrupted…” he brought his hand up next to his face, flourished it, and you heard your door’s lock click shut. You held your breath as a mischievous grin graced his lips.

Oh gods, you were looking at his lips. You couldn't seem to look away.

He lowered his voice to a gruff whisper. “Might we finish what we started?”

With the smallest nod of your head, he immediately ducked his head to press his lips against yours. Your small noise of surprise made him pull away for a second and grin, before he playfully growled and lifted you from the ground. His eyes stayed trained on yours as he walked a few steps and firmly shoved your back against the wall. Your breath hitched as his hand found that place at the back of your neck, and this time, you kissed him. Eagerly, hungrily, feeling so overwhelmingly euphoric that this was even happening.

It had to be a dream, you thought as his lips trailed along your jawline, his hot breath hit your neck and his strong unwavering arms kept you above the ground and level with his gaze. He kissed you not just like a god or a great lover - he kissed you like he wanted you. Like he‘d also been waiting to do this for an unspeakable amount of time. It felt like relief.

Pulling you both back from the wall, Loki's lips didn’t relent as your fingers tangled once again in his hair. He walked backwards and found his seat on the end of your bed, sitting with you in his lap as he had at the party.

“Gods, you enrapture me,“ he pulled away, a little breathless. He grinned and his eyes were hazy. He looked at you intensely before looking back at your lips, subconsciously slipping out his tongue to wet his own. Before you could respond, he was kissing you again. You could have melted into his touch. In fact, you were fairly certain you just might.

He leaned back and you both fell onto the bed, you on top of him. You laughed at the sudden impact and you pulled away for a few seconds to catch your breath. You looked at his adoring gaze and blushed. “I never thought someone like you could want someone like me.”

He furrowed his brow, unsure if you were about to reference his nefarious past.

”You’re so… mighty. You’re a Prince, a god, you’re wickedly smart and powerful and… and I’m just a human.”

“Watch your tongue,” Loki scolded somewhat seriously and held you a little tighter. “Don’t speak of yourself as if you’re insignificant.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled, giving him a look. “You know what I mean.”

“Of course I do, I’m wickedly smart,” he smirked and you playfully swatted at his chest. He smiled contentedly and ran his hands firmly down your sides to settle at your hips. It was an innocent romantic gesture, one to position you for further making-out with Loki, but your eyes widened at the memory of his discovery the previous weekend and the assumption that the God of Mischief was about to turn the tables.

Unluckily for you, your flustered expression rendered it a self-fulfilling prophesy.

“Loki…” You warned as you saw the glint in his eye.

“That’s right…” His smirk widened to a devilish grin.

”How about you keep kissing me, huh?” You laughed nervously and leaned in closer. Loki laughed and nodded, bringing his hand up to cradle the back of your neck as you pressed your lips to his. Once your arms were around his neck, he deepened the kiss and rolled over, putting you underneath him. Still on the edge of the bed, your feet barely skimmed the floor. Then, he suddenly became the classic Loki you knew.

“Mmmhmhm!” You whined and giggled a little into the kiss as the fingers belonging to his arm around your waist started ever so gently scratching at your side. “Mmnnoho!” You broke away and gave him a pouting look. He lifted his head and smirked.

Gods. He’d never looked so unspeakably hot.

Messy curls framing his face, that look he gave you that said You’re In Trouble in his distinct Loki way, mixed with the desire in his piercing blue eyes; you’d gladly endure his torture if it meant he looked at you like that.

But maybe that’s because you had no idea what was coming.

“Darling,” he cocked his head and kissed your cheek before kissing just below your ear. “I am the God of Mischief….“ he kissed your neck in a way that you were sure was intended to tickle. You giggled and bit your lip. “And now that I've got my hands on you, you simply cannot expect me to not exploit this little weakness to its fullest extent.”

“L-Loki!” You blushed at the very real threat and he chuckled.

“How about you guide me, hmm? Where should I start?”

“I’m not playing this game,” you laughed nervously, squirming a bit underneath him and resting your hands on his shoulders to push away the ticklish kisses.

“Aw, come now,” he lifted his head and that same beautiful smirk made your heart beat quick. His hand behind your neck slid down under your shoulder blade until it sat at your upper ribs. You stole a glance down to where it may be, even though you couldn’t see it. He cocked his head again. “No? Alright, I’ll choose.” With a wink his thumb slipped around the side and up into the hollow under your arm.

“LOKI!” You gasped, clamped your arm down from instinct and immediately started squirming and giggling, even though his thumb wasn’t even moving. He grinned again and kissed your lips once more.

“You've been down all week, love. Let's have a bit of fun,” he whispered, then sprang his hand at your waist into action, scratching and grabbing at the soft skin hidden beneath your shirt. You gasped again and started laughing softly, then squeaked when his thumb started wiggling into the hollow under your arm.

"NOHOHO!" You shut your eyes and then squealed loudly when his fingers underneath you began clawing into the back of your uppermost ribs. Damnit, you thought he may start easy on you, not go for three different places at once. You were already in a desperate cackle, bubbling incoherent pleas spilling from your lips as you writhed underneath his amused self.

"I'm honestly delighted you're so ticklish," Loki teased with a chuckle. "It's adorable, really. So professional all the time, yet..." He finished his sentence by intensifying his touch and speed at all three sites of attack, drawing a small shriek from your laughing lips and a jolt from your body. "Has it always been this easy to undo you?"

“OHMYGOHOD!” You shrieked, throwing your head against the bed and trying to buck your upper body against him to no avail. He paused his torture and kissed you deeply again, lips curled into a smile as he pressed his lips to yours. You shook your head and broke away, still laughing. “Youhou’re ridiculous! We were hahaving such a nice moment and y-you ruined ihit,” you whimpered. He kissed to again to silence your complaints.

“What did you expect?”

“I-I expected a nice romantic moment!” You laughed and brought both arms between you and him to shove at his shoulders. “Now,” you gave him a stern look. “Do you want to tickle me, or kiss me? You can only choose one.”

He scoffed. “I don’t do ultimatums, darling.”

“You do now.”

“Bold.“ He stuck his tongue against his cheek then ducked his head to the side in consideration. He then looked at your face, which you’d been attempting to hold in some semblance of a firm glare. He lowered his lips to your ear and you heard him chuckle once. “Far too bold for someone so ticklish.”

He whipped his arms out from under you and pressed his weight down again, trapping your arms between your bodies as he clawed into the front and sides of your lowest ribs.

“NOHOAHAH!” You immediately fell into desperate belly-laughter as his fingers drilled and clawed into the spaces between your bones. Your feet kicked helplessly, merely grazing the ground as laughter kept spilling from you. “NOHO! NO! LOKIHI I CAHAN’T!” He shifted his hands further up your ribcage and snuck his fingers around to dig in at the back and, after one more shriek, your laughter went silent. It was trapped in your chest as his squeezing and vibrating fingers found every sensitive space on your ribs that made you want to melt into a little puddle. You were gasping for air by the time he halted his attack, squeaking and wheezing as you tried to regain your breath.

It was torture, but you hoped he wouldn’t ask you if it was worth enduring to have him this close. If he could spot a lie from lightyears away, how much easier could he spot it when he was close enough for you to see the flecks of green in his eyes.

”You’re… you’re gonna kill me,” you hiccoughed. He smirked and leaned in for another kiss. “Nuh-uh,” you pulled your finger up as much as you could from where your arms were trapped. “You made your choice.”

He grinned and slid his hands down your sides with a wink, "Oh? Then I'll gladly continue."

"W-w-wait! I dihidn't th-WAHAIT!"

His thumbs drilled relentlessly into your hips as Loki joined in with your loud laughter. You finally managed to wiggle your arms out from where they were trapped at your chest, shooting them down to grab at his fingers. Your feet having no traction and his near entire weight pressing you to the bed made it impossible to buck or lift any part of your torso, so you were completely trapped with nowhere to go as he gripped and grabbed at the skin of your hips, kneading at the pressure points that made you squeak and squirm beneath him.

When he tired of your fingers trying to grab his, he did a devilish swift lift of his own body and slotted his hands between the two of you, settling them palms-down over the majority of your belly. You made a huge gasping noise and started frantically giggling and squealing even before he'd moved his hands. You shook your head and begged for him to kiss you instead, nervous high-pitched giggles interlacing your words.

"N-noho, Loki just kihiss me, kiss me plehease! PLEASE!" You squeaked, cupping his cheeks and gently pulling him towards you. He chuckled and grinned, gently digging a few fingers in just once. You thrashed and renewed your struggling and squealing efforts. "Dohon't you DAHARE! I won't kiss you agahain if you do this!" You threatened. He cocked his head and leaned in a little closer to look deep into your eyes. Then, he grinned and whispered:

"Lightyears."

You thought for certain you'd pass out from laughter when Loki's fingers sprang into action and rippled against your hypersensitive stomach. You laughed loudly, completely powerless to stop his fingers from digging in wherever they pleased. After not much time at all, your laughter went silent and you weakly batted at his shoulders, sides, face, anything your hands could find for themselves since your eyes were shut so tight. Any words your brain even began to think of forming got lost as laughter ripped through your chest from the electric intensity of his fingers against your body.

When your hands finally found both sides of his face, you used all the energy you had left to press your laughing lips against his and, finally, he relented. You fell back with a loud gasp as he retracted his hands with an amused chuckle and took his weight mostly off you, propping himself up with a hand planted either side of your head.

"Alright there, darling?" He teased as you coughed weakly and wiped the tears of mirth from your cheeks. You gave him a scowl, but he found it adorable.

"Thihis isn't fair," you crossed your arms defiantly.

"No?" He smirked. "Pray tell, my love. What isn't fair?"

Oh. My love. His love.

That took any breath you'd managed to get back in your lungs.

"Y-you... you..." But your words were lost in the bliss of being his. He seemed to quickly understand how his words touched your heart, and it softened his teasing demeanour, and softened his smirk into a smile. "You found my worst spots so soon," you managed to murmur through rosy cheeks.

"Was only a matter of time."

"But now you have the upper hand."

"Dear heart, this isn't a struggle for power," he laughed heartily. "I do not seek to rule over you. Anything you ask of me, anything in the Nine Realms, I will give to you."

"Tell me where you're ticklish."

He chuckled and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before falling down beside you. He hummed in contentment as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you as close as you could be.

"Anything but that."

[jennagrinsoverml]

Do you have any Adrien-centric angst fics? Like, fics that will completely gut you emotionally and you have to lay down for an hour after you read it just to decompress?something like that?

I've recced angst fics before, but let's have some SADRIEN hours around here, shall we?

a fight that you were born to lose by @captainkirkk

When the prosecution starts throwing around the word victim in reference to Adrien, he has to stuff his hands under his thighs to keep himself from bolting out of the courtroom.

Adrien had felt unsafe during those last few weeks, but, until he had woken up and seen Father silhouetted in his bedroom doorway, that had only been paranoia. Father was controlling and cold, but he wasn’t hateful. Adrien was isolated. He was often hungry. And some weeks ago, when he had snuck out to visit Nino, sitting thigh-to-thigh on his bed while Adrien cried in that silent, crumbling way of his, he hadn’t argued when Nino put a hand on his shoulder and said, tentatively, That’s abuse.

But Adrien remembers being small and Father touching his hair after he’d aced another test; Father holding his scribbled drawings like they were something precious, and framing them around his office; Father, dressed as Hawkmoth, his eyes wild behind the mask, lashing his sword against Adrien’s baton; Father, collapsed against Mum, crying into her ashy hair.

Adrien finds out Gabriel is Hawkmoth, and Gabriel gets to bring his long-waited plan into action.

One-shot. (But a LONG one-shot--it's 18k.) This one really digs deep into the abuse that Adrien suffers at Gabriel's hands and the emotional fallout from that. Gabriel is really, really, really terrible here. Worse, I don't think it's OOC at all. This fic is gorgeous, but it's a hard read and it goes to some dark places.

Anhedonia/When Adrien Met Marinette... by @mikauzoran

Chat Noir hadn’t been lying when he told Ladybug he’d moved on. It was only when he found out that Ladybug was Marinette that he realized he was wrong. Meanwhile, Marinette thinks that she’s missed her chance when Adrien insists that he’s gotten over his feelings. Now, they’re roommates and making themselves miserable as they pine for one another, thinking the situation’s hopeless. Things finally come to a head, and they’re forced to sit down and have an honest conversation about their feelings.

One-shot. Adrien's just so sad and lonely and pining here, and I'm here for it. I really found myself getting swept away in his feelings as I was reading. This isn't dark and doesn't get into any heavy issues like some of the other fics on this list, but I found that it was very relatable and evoked a lot of emotion.

Adrien and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by @vickyvicarious

Chat Noir's used to bad luck - it kind of comes with the territory. But detransforming in the middle of a crowd of reporters is a little worse luck than he’s used to having.

And he hasn’t heard a thing from Ladybug since.

(AKA the "everyone finds out all at once" angst fic no one asked for.)

One-shot. Oof, does this one ever hurt. Adrien's painfully in-character, and the way he's trying so very hard to stay positive even as his life is completely falling apart and everyone keeps hurting him...it's so him and it packs a punch.

The Importance of the Black Cat by @chatonne-rousse

Plagg gets down almost two full wedges of cheese before Adrien sits down on the edge of his bed with a heavy sigh.

“Hey, Plagg?” His voice is quiet but doesn’t betray any emotion yet. That’s actually more worrying.

Steeling himself, Plagg swallows the last big bite of cheese and zips from the desk to perch on top of the globe, facing his holder. “What’s up?”

He heaves another sigh before looking up into Plagg’s eyes, emotions still unreadable.

“How important is the black cat?”

*****

Adrien has a lot on his mind - concerns, questions, doubts. And right now, he has only one being to confide in. There is not enough cheese in the world to make Plagg want to handle this situation, but his holder needs him, and he knows two things with certainty: his very important place in the world, and that no one hurts his kitten. Not if he has anything to say about it.

One-shot. You want some season 4 flavour Adrien angst? How about some post-Optigami wallowing? I love the portrayal of Adrien and Plagg's relationship with the mix of light and heavy. Pretty sure I still owe Rosie a sequel to this one because I wanted to see more resolution afterwards and made the mistake of sharing my thoughts on that 🙈 It's just very thought-provoking!!

Working Past It by Taitai83

Chat is deeply hurt by Ladybug's actions, and he needs to process those feelings. He finds that confiding in a friend is helpful in finding clarity.

One-shot. Here, have some more season 4 angst! This one is shamefully overlooked. Go read it and help fix that!! Remember when Gang of Secrets came out and we all wondered how Chat would react when he found out Ladybug told someone her identity? This was an early stab at that, and I found the reactions and thought processes here to be so in character. Plus there's some nice marichat hurt/comfort, though purely platonic.

Timetagger 3 by rosebud1000

Years after Hawkmoth's defeat, Marinette and Adrien encounter Timetagger for the third time. And this battle hits closer to home than any other.

One-shot. Here we have some more of the fallout from Gabriel being a shitty parent, only we have an adult Adrien who is a father himself struggling to reconcile how his father acted with his own parental feelings. As a parent, I really felt this one.

Chat Noir's Family by fleurjaune

The thing is-

The thing is Adrien doesn’t actually mean to lie. Not at first anyway, but they have to keep their secret identities secret don’t they?

And his family, well, their tragedy is out there for the world to see and the world did see it.

One-shot. The more Chat lies about his life and his family, the more we learn about Adrien and see how he wishes his life was. And that chasm...really fucking hurts. I wish this sweet boy could have the kinds of relationships and family dynamics he lies about.

Partners by @karkalicious769

"Um." Alya fidgeted nervously as her earrings beeped their countdown. "Ask me a question that only Ladybug would know the answer to."

Chat Noir barred his teeth, and— Were they always that sharp? At least he wasn't growling again. "You are not Ladybug," he snapped.

"Just do it!"

It was all Alya had to go off of and she really needed to pull this partnership together before the akuma got any worse. She wasn't deluded enough to think that she could do this without Chat Noir.

One-shot. SPOILERS FOR HACK-SAN!!! And yet some more season 4 feels because let's be serious, this season is putting our kitty through the ringer. And this fic definitely does it, though by playing with the episode a little. Although we've got a tight Alya POV, Adrien's hurt and suffering is palpable, and made all the worse by how resigned he is. Read this and sufferrrrrr.

[mae-gi-writes]

Once Again (Pt.2) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN | PART TWO

Summary:

Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother. 

Genre: fluff, angst, f! Reader x dad! Iwaizumi

Taglist: @multi-fandom-fanfic, @168-cm-png​, @bakugouswh0r3​, @yatoatyourservice​, @ayocee​, @marvel-ing-at-it-all​, @astrolcve 

A/N: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! Thanks to everyone for the kind feedback and for reading my work <3 

< PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART >

----

He swings his beer over the counter, "one more."

He shouldn't be drinking. Imagine the damage it's doing to his organs, alcohol sweeping through his bloodstream and purging him of all coherent thought. Iwaizumi can hear Oikawa's nagging voice in his head even within the depths of intoxication.

Does he care though? He should. He should care. Because his job is basically to get people in their best shape.

And here he is, drinking away his sorrow, still shaken up by the way Hoisuke's fingers had grabbed for him that night. The bundle of nerves he'd squashed down had only intensified upon dropping his son on his mother's doorstep the same weekend and though he knew he should've said something to Mizune, he couldn't find the will to utter the words out, lest they came back to haunt him.

His phone buzzes in his pant pocket and after finishing it out with clumsy fingers, he manages to press down onto the green button.

"Yeah?"

"You're drinking!"

"No."

"Iwa-chan~" Oikawa's voice pierces through the receiver, sickly sweet and yet with a dark threatening undertone, "what are you doing?"

"Fuck off, shittykawa."

"Where are you?"

Iwaizumi doesn't answer. He doesn't need to, for Oikawa's already exclaiming the said bar's name as he takes another sip of his newly-filled beer glass.

"I thought you said you wouldn't drink anymore," Oikawa reproaches, "think of what Hoisuke would say--"

"I said fuck off."

There's a small pause where Oikawa bristles, before he says in a quieter tone, "what's wrong?"

Still, Iwaizumi says nothing but takes another huge gulp of his beer. His head feels buzzed, disoriented.

"Iwa-chan."

The said man press his lips in a taut line.

"Iwa-chaaaan."

"I'll talk to you later," Iwaizumi barely hears his friend's protests before he cuts off the call and downs the rest of his beer like a parched man, eyes narrowing towards anyone who dares reprimand him of his behaviour.

"One more," he rasps out towards the bartender, whose sending him a look that closely mimics one that clearly says he's had enough. But he scowls in response and that's enough to make the bartender's eyes slip away.

Seriously. What is wrong with him? It's already been four months goddamnit. Get over yourself. He wishes he could punch himself in the face. God, he sounds like a loser. He looks like one. And it's no wonder that his wife has left him for someone better, richer. Everything that he's not.

Not to forget that this wound will never leave their son's heart.

"One rum and coke please."

A presence lingers in his right and the brown-haired man turns with a glare at the ready, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed in a thin line to scare whatever stranger that comes a little too close for his liking.

What the--

He stares at you. You stare back at him, just as dumbfounded. Looking the same, yet completely different.

"Miss Y/N?"

"Iwaizumi-san?"

He feels the sudden urge to hide his empty glass, "what--are you doing here?"

"Don't look so surprised, Iwaizumi-san," you chuckle at what you think is his flabbergasted expression, "I'm still twenty-six you know. I came here with a few of my friends."

His eyes slide towards the table in the far corner -- easy to spot since it's one of the loudest -- before he almost misses your question, "and you?"

"I come here often."

"Ah I see."

As you pay the bartender who slides your drink over, you bristle for a bit before you ask hesitantly, "mind if I sit here?"

Iwaizumi shakes his head. It's not like he can say no after all. You're his kid's teacher. And shit, how many beers has he had? He better not run his mouth. It's a dirty habit of his whenever he's shit drunk.

"So," you start off slowly, looking so out of place next to the said man with a scowl so dark it can scare off the most violent of gangsters that the corners of Iwaizumi's mouth tilt upwards in amusement, "how's it going?"

Seriously? You're seriously going to do that? His gaze searches your features for a moment, satisfied when warmth floods your cheeks.

You look away, "you don't have to look at me like that, you know. I just thought you’d want some company."

"What makes you think that?” Iwaizumi says while he flags down another beer from the waiter. 

You blink at him, “I can go if you want--”

The man sighs, rubbing his temples with tiredness, “that’s not what I meant.”

A weird, empty gap of silence ensues. Long enough that Iwaizumi gets his fourth beer of the night in his hand and he takes a grateful swallow. 

He really should not be drinking so much.

"Where do you work?” 

You’re persistent. He’ll give you that, “personal trainer. I work at the sports academy.” 

“That’s cool,” there’s a small smile edging upon your lips, “you like it?”

He nods, pauses briefly, before asking, “do you?” 

Of course it’s a little too close for comfort, especially since you’re Hoisuke’s teacher and all. But you merely relax in your high stool, swinging your legs while nodding eagerly. He can’t help but notice the tightness of your dark jeans, your black high-heeled boots, “I don’t see myself working as anything else. I’m bad with people most of the time.”

Taking another swig of his beer, Iwaizumi feels the tension slowly ease up from his shoulders, “well you’re way better with kids than I am.”

“You’re pretty good with Hoisuke."

“That’s because you haven’t seen him throw tantrums.”

You laugh, "oh don't worry, I have. I know all about his little fits. All my kids have one, at some point."

You say it lightly, but there's definitely love laced in your words and for a minute, Iwaizumi thinks back to the way Hoisuke kept on praising you, the way he spoke so affectionately about you.

"Do you still play volleyball?" You ask him while sipping on your drink.

He mimics the gesture, "sometimes. The guys are all over town so it's harder to meet up now."

"Dang, your team was so good though."

"It was Oikawa that held us together. We weren't that good," he tastes the bitterness of Karasuno's victory on his tongue.

"That's not true," you protest, fiddling with your empty glass, "the only reason why I watched Aoba Johsai's games was because I liked watching you play."

Dark coffee-coloured orbs sweep up to yours at that statement, as if trying to peel layers off yout shell, as if wanting to confirm the truth of your words. You feel like cowering away but you don't, instead holding his stare in hopes that he doesn't notice how your hands tremble slightly underneath his scowl.

And then, features softening ever so slightly, he murmurs out, "thanks."

You know he means it in the best way possible.

-----

One drink turns to two. And two multiplies by four. And soon enough you're tipsy off your head and singing so blatantly off-key you wonder why Iwaizumi's still by your side. You haven't been this drunk in ages and this sense of freedom makes you bold; you tug him to the dance floor to join your friends, order shot after shot as the music gets louder and your head gets lighter, proceed to blabber your mouth off about literally anything and everything that by the end of the night, you wish the ground would swallow you whole so you won't have to deal with Iwaizumi the next day.

You're not entirely sure how you find yourself being dragged by none other than the said man himself, or how your nose is currently lodged in the crevice between his neck and shoulders. But he smells good, like citrus and a mixture of mint and-- you sniff a little more -- is that cookie dough? Your mouth waters just at the thought.

"You smell like cookie dough," the words tumble out of your mouth in a jumbled mess and you inwardly feel like stabbing yourself.

So pathetic. Pitiful really.

"That's Hoisuke," Iwaizumi replies, surprisingly patient even when he's clearly not impressed, glaring at the lamppost ahead, "it's his flavour of the month."

"That's cute!" You giggle, "just like you, Iwa!"

The man sighs while shifting his grip upon your waist, "let's just get you to bed."

You probably doze off at some point or black out because the next thing you see upon opening your eyes next is the ceiling.

Hoisting your head up and groaning when your head pounds in warning, you lie back down as nausea takes over.

Shit. This isn't your room. You know that much.

What the fuck happened last night?

You remember dancing atop tables, remember spotting Iwaizumi by the bar and talking to him because he just seemed so sad and lonely. You remember dragging him onto the dance floor, dancing together, his hands on your waist--

You danced with Iwaizumi?!

The thought is enough to trigger another pounding. You groan once more, placing your hand atop your head in hopes that it will stop it from throbbing. It doesn't. But before you have more time to wallow in your self-pity, the door creaks open and your eyes almost pop out of your head when you spot a mop of brown spiky hair enter the room.

Iwaizumi.

Oh fuck. Your brain short circuits. Fuck fuck fuck.

Surprise crosses his face, clearly having not expected you to be awake yet. He walks over to place a glass of water by the nightstand and grabs your palm to tilt two aspirins into your hand.

"How's your head?" He asks.

"Fine," you wince. It's far from fine. In response, he holds out the glass and you gladly wash down the pills, warm and feeling suddenly vulerable under his stare.

Chewing onto the inside of your cheek, you muster up all your courage to ask, "what--happened last night?"

You don't miss the way his eyebrows shoot up, "you don't remember?"

"...no."

Is that amusement dancing in his eyes? You're not sure since it's gone just as quickly as it came before he says, "you got drunk. Danced on the table, had too many shots and made out with two different men--"

"I'm pretty sure the last part didn't happen."

"You said you didn't remember," he smirks lightly.

"I can't even flirt, let alone kiss strangers."

That earns you a chuckle from his part, causing your heart to flutter slightly as he straightens up, "you probably want to wash up. Bathroom's on the right. I'm in the kitchen if you need me."

"Okay," and as he turns away, you quickly add, "thanks, Iwaizumi-san."

He nods back, exiting the room and finally allowing you to collapse back against the bed to try slowing down your galloping heart. Jesus christ, you think to yourself as you slowly take in your surroundings. From the lack of furniture and with only a few clothes flung over a wooden desk chair shoved in the right, you guess it's his room. A closed laptop and a small plant sits on his desk. On the left is the nightstand filled with sports books and some manga, a closet shoved in a corner and the floor is made in veneered wood.

There's no sign of family pictures, nothing that indicates the warmth of a cosy household. It doesn't take a genius to understand why. While Hoisuke had begged you not to tell his father, you weren't a stranger to the young boy sobbing in-between breaks because he misses his mother.

Well, it's not like you're allowed into family affairs anyway, as much as that breaks your heart.

After a much needed shower and a quick brush of your teeth -- you had to make do with using your fingers with his toothpaste, too embarrassed to actually ask him whether he had a spare toothbrush -- you walk out into the kitchen to see Iwaizumi already seated at a quaint wooden table laden with eggs and toast. Behind him sits the kitchen stove and white countertops next to a fridge fitting snuggly on the left corner. On the far right of the room is a large dark grey couch and a tv set, and just behind it is a small hallway which seems to be the entrance -- guessing by the coat rack and array of shoes. 

"Sunny side up or boiled?" Iwaizumi asks as you take a seat opposite him. He has already poured you a cup of strong coffee and you inhale before sighing in bliss. Your headache already feels slightly better.

"Anything is fi--" you're interrupted by his scowl, quickly changing your answer to, "sunny-side up please."

He grunts, passes you the plate and digs into his own fried eggs, the soft boiled ones forgotten at the centre of the table.

"Uhm, forgive me for point it out, but that's a lot of food Iwaizumi-san," you mumble out, not missing the way his features harden slightly.

"Force of habit," he mutters in-between mouthfuls. He doesn't need to say more, for you're pretty certain he's referring to the family he used to have, those lazy Sunday mornings that started out with brunch.

You eat in companionable silence and though it'a definitely less awkward than last night, your mind still races trying to figure out what to say to erase the permanent furrow between his brows.

Or is that his normal demeanour? To be honest, you're not quite sure yourself.

So you settle for thanking him for last night, to which he replies, "do you usually drink that much?"

"No," you duck your head, avert your gaze, "I got carried away. I'm really sorry."

"Well I wouldn't have expected my kid's teacher to be that wild," he muses while taking a bite of his toast.

Alarm zaps through you, making your eyes go wide, "I swear I'm not usually like that, really. I just--this was an exception--"

"It's fine, miss Y/N. I know," his brown pupils lock onto yours briefly, "I'm not going to report you."

"I--" nothing can really make up for your behaviour last night. You know that much, "still, I'm sorry. That wasn't appropriate," you glance up, chest tightening at the intensity of his stare, unflinching. Unwavering.

He cocks his head at you then, a semblance of a smile along his mouth, "I was pretty entertained, if you ask me."

"Was I that bad?"

"No. But let's just say that you won't want to show your face around for the next week or so."

You groan and bury your face in your hands, "what did I do?"

"You might've broken a beer glass or two," he gives you a look, "on purpose. And tried to steal the Dj's headphones cause he wasn't putting the music you requested."

"Oh god," you want to bury yourself right then and there and to your surprise, you see him laugh softly before he nudges your coffee towards you.

"Drink," he orders, "it'll make you feel less shitty."

You're about to retort with a roll of your eyes, only to be interrupted by the doorbell ringing. From the way Iwaizumi tenses, you know it's not just the mail man.

Excusing himself to go unlock the door as you twist in your seat to follow his figure, shock courses through you the moment your eyes land on Hoisuke's.

Then, his mother.

An alarm bell rings through your mind.

"I thought you said evening," comes Iwaizumi's grunt, totally unlike the guy who'd been chuckling a few seconds ago.

"Hoisuke wanted to come back early for some reason," the woman says, her gaze flickering to yours for a brief moment. It's enough to cause you to swallow hard. She continues, "I'll pick him up on--"

"Miss Y/N?!" Hoisuke shouts out suddenly and before you know it, you're being tackled into the child's arms as if you haven't seen each other forever, "what are you doing here?! Daddy!" he whips his head around in accusation, "you lied about not really really liking Miss Y/N!"

"Wha--No!" Iwaizumi yells as you frown in confusion, "huh?"

"Daddy said that really really liking someone means you wanna be boyfriend and girlfriend with them, like he was with Mama before she moved houses," Hoisuke blabbers on, totally oblivious to how the three of you keep on staring at him in growing alarm, "and then I asked him if he really really liked miss Y/N because I really really like miss Y/N but he said no, but that's a lie!"

"Hajime, what is he talking about?" His ex-wife is quick to narrow her eyes, "what have you been telling him?"

"Nothing, it's not what you think--"

"I think," she pointedly glances at you, "I should leave now. We'll talk about this later."

And with that, she swivels around and storms out, leaving the three of you to stare after her in a mixture of shock and confusion.

Hoisuke, oblivious to the sudden tension, blurts out, "daddy, why is Mama angry with you?"

----

The few weeks following the tiny incident that had resulted in an awkward misunderstanding between you, Hoisuke’s parents and the said child himself had caused you to retreat back into the shell of professionalism that included avoiding Iwaizumi whenever it was deemed possible. It hadn’t been hard since he was usually present and waiting outside class to pick up Hoisuke right on time, making it much easier to avoid conversation with him altogether. 

You’d texted iwaizumi right after reaching your humble abode the day he’d practically saved your drunk ass and though you spent a few spare moments to chat in-between the bustling activities of life, it doesn’t erase the fact that he’s still Hoisuke’s father, one of your dearest students. That, and the fact that you don’t really find it fair to put Hoisuke in-between the two of you, if there’s anything worth digging for anyway. 

Who are you kidding? It’s not like Iwaizumi would ever be interested in you in that sense. Having spotted his ex-wife once or twice proved that his style was of more refined women, the type that would drink wine instead of chug down beer and who’d enjoy gifts such as perfume and romantic dates instead of going on grocery trips and meal-prepping for the entire week. 

“Miss Y/N!” Hoisuke’s voice pierces through your thought bubble and your eyes quickly find his grin as he jumps towards your desk, "are you coming to our house this weekend too?!"

"Wh--What? Uhm-- no I don't think so--" eyes quickly flitting over the classroom, you're relieved to find that the rest of his classmates are long gone, "I don't think that's appropriate."

"But why? I even told Mama that I wouldn't be coming this weekend because you were," he pouted and it took all of your determination not to melt, until his words registered in your brain and your eyes widened, "o--oh, but that's--"

"Hoisuke?" You both turn to see his father's head poking through the door. Your body reacts instantly, warmth flooding through your limbs and flushing through your cheeks.

"Daddy!"

"H-Hello, Iwaizumi-san," you bow your head slightly. He returns the gesture, facial expression not giving anything away. His son bounds up to him with just as much vigor, "daddy, can we invite miss Y/N this weekend too?"

You might have laughed at Iwaizumi's shocked face if not for the fact that you are the person in question.

He splutters, "Miss Y/N has things to do--"

"But she came last weekend!"

"Yes well, it's bad manners to impose on someone when they're not free," Iwaizumi replies sternly, "come on now, we're gonna be late for Karate."

With a loud sigh and a scowl that resembles so much like his father, Hoisuke mutters out his goodbyes while Iwaizumi catches your eye, bowing slightly and muttering a silent "sorry" before he guides his son out of the room. You're glad he's out of earshot that he can't hear the stuttering of your heart against your chest.

You place a hand on your chest, sigh tiredly before looking down at your students' papers, "get a grip, Y/N," you mutter to yourself.

But it's not that easy to control yourself when Iwaizumi is making it so easy to like him.

----

Iwaizumi: sorry about yesterday. 

Y/N: it's okay. Hoisuke’s young, it's normal for him to want for a motherly figure around.

Iwaizumi's fingers drum over his knee as he watches with slight interest the newest male volleyball team practice their serves. He shouts after a few, calling them out for theit lazy postures, but other than that he can't seem to stop his thoughts from winding their way back to you.

"Who is she?" Mizune had asked him on the phone on the day following their encounter. Her tone was friendly, yet held that tone of warning that he was so accustomed to.

"How does that concern you?"

"I want to know who you're bringing around to hang out with Hoisuke."

"She's an acquaintance of mine," he paused, "and Hoisuke's teacher."

"That's inapropriate if you ask me."

Scoffing, he replied, "like what you did's so appropriate?"

A small pause ensued. When she spoke next, there was no mistaking the edge to her voice.

"You can't keep using that against me, Hajime."

"Don't tell me who I can or can't hang out with."

He'd hung up without bothering to wait for her response, seething and red hot with rage blubbering through his stomach.

Of course now that he thinks it over, Mizune has a point. Mixing the professional and the personal have never ended in happy endings. Not that this has ever stopped him before. He doesn't believe in what everyone else thinks is right. That's also one of the main reasons why Mizune couldn't handle it anymore. Or so she said before she went to suck someone else's dick.

His phone vibrates and fishing it out, a scowl instantly shadows his face upon seeing Oikawa's name flash across the screen.

Oikawa: Iwa-chan ~ have you asked her out yet?

Iwaizumi has to force himself to stay in control and not pound his phone to pieces when he types out his reply.

Iwaizumi: No.

Oikawa: BUT WHYYYY~ YOU SAID YOU FOUND HER CUTE.

Oikawa: and Hoisuke likes her. He already knows her.

Iwaizumi: I didn’t say that. And she's not interested.

Oikawa: Just because you suck at picking up cues doesn't mean she isn't throwing them at you 😏😏😏

Iwaizumi: shut up, shittykawa.

Oikawa: Just do it or I'll do it for you.

Iwaizumi: I don't even like her that way.

Oikawa: why'd you rant about not wanting to hurt her feelings yesterday night then?

Iwaizumi's hand rubs at his face with a groan. Oikawa's a little shit most of the time, but he's a perceptive little shit.

Oikawa: I mean it. Ask her out or I'll do it for you.

Oikawa: gotta go now. Match is starting. See ya!~ muah ❤

"Dumbass," Iwaizumi growls under his breath before shoving the phone back into his pocket. Easier said than done to ask someone out so casually, especially when she's Hoisuke's teacher.

If she accepts, great. If she doesn't, he'll have to suffer through humiliation for the rest of the year or avoid picking up Hoisuke altogether.

Oh fuck it.

He lets his body send the message before his brain can catch up to the way he has thrown himself under the bus, shoves his phone back into his pocket and tries to put the thought out of his mind even though the device suddenly feels hot and heavy in his pant pocket.

Iwaizumi: we're having takeout and movie night on Friday. You're free to join.

----