#not kidding when I say I had to legit pause and SCREAM INTO MY PILLOW at one point

[chameleonwritess]

Finally got to read all of Flambé, thanks Eng server for the translation hehe…..

Y’all. I did not expect it to be dropping IBAYUZU LORE THE WHOLE TIME???????

I’ll be back in the morning going insane and over analysing everything they said so watch this space and live laugh Yuzuru Fushimi xoxo

[honeypiehotchner]

i knew you (Bucky Barnes soulmate AU) -- part two

Y’all are about to make me turn this into a long/full-length fic. I swear. Thank you for the feedback!! It made me all :D Enjoy this angst xx.

For the next few weeks, you would meet Steve at the coffee shop after class just to talk about Bucky. Your best friend joked that you must be dating someone, but left it alone when you told her she wouldn’t believe who you were with if you told her anyway.

Day after day, Steve brings some new story about his best friend. Last week, he brought you the sketches he found that Bucky made him draw. He said he has no idea how they survived, but by the yellow tint of the paper, you knew they were legit.

As was the letter Steve handed you a few days ago.

The paper is yellow. The ink faded. The creases permanent. 

And the handwriting. It’s Bucky’s.

You’ve yet to read the letter. You tried. You opened it. You got as far as “Doll, if you’re reading this, that means Steve kept his promise. I’m sorry I can’t be there--” before the tears made it too hard to read anything.

The letter sits on your dresser and every morning you hold it against your chest, pressing it over your heart. As stupid as it sounds, you can almost feel him standing behind you when you do.

How painful it is to love and miss someone that you have never met.

The emptiness is present most days, but today it is especially prevalent, and you can’t pinpoint why.

You dreamt of him last night. Sometimes you feel especially empty after seeing him, mainly because when you wake it’s a painful reminder that he isn’t here. But something about today feels different.

“You okay?”

The voice makes you jump, but it’s only your best friend. Her eyebrows furrow in concern at your reaction.

“Yeah,” you murmur, slowly placing the letter back on your dresser. 

“You know,” she pauses, walking further into your room. “You told me I wouldn’t believe it if you told me. But I’d still like to know.”

You smile, looking at her in the mirror. “You sure?”

“You’ve been acting strange for weeks now,” she chuckles. “I’d like to know why. I’m your best friend.”

“Okay,” you exhale. You turn around, gesturing to your bed. The two of you sit next to one another, and you hold a pillow to your chest for comfort. “It’s Steve.”

“Steve? Steve who?”

“Steve Rogers,” you say, watching the realization dawn. “Captain America.”

“You’re serious?”

You nod.

“Are you guys dating?”

“No,” you laugh, shaking your head. “Nothing like that. He’s...We’ve been talking about Bucky.”

“Bucky? Barnes?”

“Yeah,” you nod again. This time, you stand and grab the letter from your dresser, returning to your bed with it in your hands. “Bucky is my soulmate.”

Your best friend’s eyes go wide. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” you hand her the letter. “I haven’t read it yet, but Steve gave it to me. Apparently Bucky dreamt about me, too. Tried to find me and couldn’t, but he gave Steve this letter before he was deployed in the war. He made Steve promise he’d find me, and well…”

“Holy hell,” she murmurs, staring down at the handwriting. “To Y/N, from Bucky,” she shakes her head. “I can’t believe it.”

“Me either,” you admit.

“Is this why you were so emotional that day?” She asks, looking up at you. “Gosh, Y/N, why didn’t you tell me?” She pulls you into her arms, the letter resting on the bed between you. “I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t want you to think I was delusional,” you confess, holding her just as tight. “I’ve had to be careful. No one outside of my parents knew before Steve figured it out.” 

Your best friend pushes back from the hug. “Wait. How did he figure it out?”

“He saw me standing in front of the video of him and Bucky at the museum,” you explain. “He said I looked familiar, and he was right. Bucky used to have him sketch me so he could have a picture of me to look at.”

You lean back and reach under your pillow, pulling out one of the many sketches Steve gave you. Your best friend takes it in her hands, one coming up to cover her mouth in a shocked gasp.

“Dated 1940,” she says softly. “Wow. It really looks like you.”

You nod. She’s right. Even you were a little shocked upon seeing the first sketch. Aside from the hairstyle being a little traditionally 40s, everything else was really close. Enough that it couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else, that’s for sure.

“So Steve tells you about Bucky?” 

You nod some more. “I didn’t think he would. I’m surprised he does, honestly. I can’t imagine how he must feel being thrown 70 years into the future without his best friend -- or anyone. He still visits Peggy in her nursing home, you know.” You smile softly. “They’re soulmates.”

“They are?” Your best friend gasps. ���That’s so sweet.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “But he’s told me a lot about Bucky. Every time I think he’s told me everything, he comes back with a new story. And every day I swear I fall more in love with Bucky. It’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not,” your best friend shakes her head. “I’m sorry he’s not here.”

“Me too,” you murmur. “I miss him.”

“I know,” she replies, a sad smile crossing her lips. “Are you gonna be okay at your interview?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “I have to go. I need this job.”

“Okay,” she says. “When was the last time you got to talk about Bucky?”

“Oh, it’s been a few days. Steve’s been busy, probably, but it’s alright. We’ve talked about him every day for the past two weeks. I can manage a few more days without him. Now, get out. I need to get dressed,” you tease, shoving her off your best.

“Yes ma’am,” she laughs. “We meeting for lunch after?”

“Yep,” you nod, heading for your closet. “I’ll let you know where after the interview. Not sure if I’ll need comfort food or not.”

“Gotcha,” she shakes her head.

+++

The interview went...okay. You’re not sure which way it’ll swing, but you’re hoping it’ll be in your favor.

“Hey girl,” your best friend’s eager voice greets you. “How’d it go?”

“Good, I think,” you laugh, straightening your purse on your shoulder. “Still wanna do lunch?”

“Duh,” she replies. “Where?”

But instead of answering her question, your eyes are caught on something else. Smoke. The smell hit you when you first walked out of the building, but you just assumed someone had been smoking. Now that you see the large cloud in the sky, you think otherwise.

“Y/N?”

“Uh, where are you?”

“Still at the apartment, why?”

“Stay there,” you say quietly, quickening your pace. “Cancel lunch. Stay inside.”

“What?”

“Just trust me!” You nearly yell, cursing yourself for wearing heels, but you’re breaking into a run nonetheless. “Turn on the news.”

“Okay, okay,” she replies frantically. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” you rush out. You skid to a stop at the intersection. “I don’t know what’s wrong but...I can feel him.”

“What? Bucky’s dead, Y/N.”

“I know that. I know he is. But I can...I can feel him. I don’t know why. Something’s wrong. Really wrong.”

“Then get the hell out of there!” Your best friend screams. “Call the police!”

An explosion booms in the distance. Something in your chest pulls you toward it. Logically, you know you can’t run after it, but your legs have a mind of their own.

“Y/N! What are you doing?!”

“I have to see!” You scream. “I’m sorry! I have to!”

“Y/N, it’s not him! He’s not there!”

“I just have to make sure!”

About that time is when another explosion rattles the ground below you. You now recognize the other noises as rapid gunfire, an automatic weapon. Screams echo in the distance but all you hear is your soul screaming at you. It’s Bucky, it tells you. It has to be Bucky.

“Y/N, listen to me!” Still, your best friend tries to get you to turn back. “What’s on the news isn’t pretty. Cars turned over and people running. The police haven’t even arrived to contain it yet. Think about what you’re doing!”

“I am,” is all you can say. “I won’t get too close. I just have to see.”

“Y/N!” 

“I’m sorry!” You scream back, right as the line goes dead. Damn service must be down.

Shaking it off, you keep running. While everyone is running away from the danger, passing you with wild looks in their eyes, you run toward it with tears streaming down your face. 

It’s him. It has to be. I don’t know how. But it is. It just is.

Up ahead, you can see a fight going on. And it’s... 

It’s Steve?

Your steps slow when you see his shield thrown into a car with such force that it terrifies you and almost makes you turn back. The crunch of metal on metal causes you to flinch, but you don’t turn away.

But you don’t. You watch the scene unfold before you. It’s hard to tell who has the upper hand. Steve or...the guy with the metal arm? That alone confuses you to no end. What kind of person has a metal arm?

You watch for a few more frightening seconds. The one with the metal arm brings out a knife. As you get closer, you notice he has a mask on over his nose and mouth. You’re not close enough to see, but...

Steve finally gains the upper hand, landing a few punches and kicks on his opponent. You gasp when Steve sends him flying, doing a somersault in midair.

You slow to a walk as you get as close as you’ll let yourself. Steve stands, shoulders rising and falling rapidly with his breaths. His opponent turns, his long hair swinging around his face, and all of the air around you seems to disappear.

“Bucky?” You whisper.

Bucky says something you don’t hear before raising his gun at Steve. You shout, “No!” before you can stop yourself, breaking into another sprint before you can think twice about what you’re doing. You don’t know what’s happening but you know that’s Bucky.

Something bird-like -- or someone, rather -- swoops down from the sky, knocking Bucky to the ground before he can shoot. Steve turns, sees you running, and yells something at you that you don’t process. You imagine he’s telling you to stop but that’s the last thing you want to do right now.

“Bucky!” You scream, voice full of hysteria and pain. 

Bucky hesitates, eyes locking on yours. You know he’s just tried to kill Steve, you know something is wrong, but you just want to hug him--

Steve catches you in his arms before you can get too far, saving you from being in the crossfire of a grenade that is shot right at Bucky by a redhead. You yell a broken sob that rips you open, fighting against Steve’s grip, but to no avail. You’re no match for his strength, and your emotions have rendered you weak.

The smoke clears and Bucky is gone, vanished into thin air. As if he was never there. 

Just like your dreams.

“Shhh,” Steve murmurs, arms not loosening around your body. Your knees buckle and he’s there to hold you up. “It’s okay. I know.”

“Bucky…” You whisper, face contorting in pain and you scream, a blistering heat spreading through your chest. Steve holds you tight, jaw clenching as he listens to you.

Sirens wail down the road, getting closer, but all you can see are Bucky’s eyes. They’re his eyes, but they’re not the same. That was Bucky, but he wasn’t your Bucky. The one who keeps you company during the night-- It wasn’t right. It wasn’t him.

But it was his face.

What happens next you hardly remember. Guns pointed all around. Someone screaming at all of you to get on your knees. Handcuffs circle your wrists and your heart is split in half. Someone asks who the hell you are. No one answers.

You’re ushered to the back of a van, all four of you. You’re shoved in next to Steve and across from the Wingman and the redhead. Steve’s worried eyes look you over, but you can only stare down at your cuffed hands.

The ride is quiet. The guards beside you don’t move.

“Bucky,” you whisper, tears springing back to your eyes.

“I know,” Steve murmurs. “It was him.”

The ringing in your ears takes over, blocking out all other noise. You see everyone’s lips moving, but nothing registers. You’re too heartbroken. He’s alive. But he’s not...him.

+++

When you finally return to reality you’re sitting up against a concrete wall. The cuffs are gone, but you don’t remember when. You don’t even know where the hell you are.

You kick your heels off, too out of it to even care that the floor is probably dirty and full of who knows what kind of germs. But your entire body aches too much for that to bother you.

Bucky.

He looked right at you. He hesitated. Who was he?

You hear voices in the room next to you. Footsteps. Then Steve is kneeling in front of you.

You blink slowly, focusing on his face. His smile is sad.

“How you holding up?”

You shake your head.

Steve sighs, moving to sit down in front of you. Your eyes look to your hands instead.

“We’ve got a safe house set up,” he says. “We’ve already sent agents to get your roommate and some of your things. You need to stay there until we finish this. I don’t know how long it’ll be.”

You nod. Steve’s only indication that you’re listening.

“The doc wants to check you out first. You were unresponsive so he wanted you to come out of it before he did.”

Another nod.

“Come on,” Steve holds out his hand.

Tentatively, you grab it. His hand feels foreign, makes your skin crawl, but then again, so does the floor you were just sitting on. Regardless, your hand slips from Steve’s as quickly as you can. You smooth your sweaty palm down your pants leg, grimacing at the way it makes you shiver. Steve watches you like you’re going to collapse again, and honestly, you might.

Steve leads you into the room he just came from, where you find the redhead, the Wingman, an agent, and the doctor. You glance to the left and see a man with an eyepatch lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to all sorts of shit. Your eyebrows furrow.

“Welcome back to earth,” the man says, full of snark and yet, a hint of caring. “Sorry you’re mixed up in all this.”

You shrug. “It’s okay.” But it’s actually not. You’re in so much pain you can barely breathe. It just...came out of nowhere. “Fuck--”

Steve’s arms jerk out to hold you up. You grip his arm as tight as you can, your eyes squeezing shut. The pain sears, it fucking burns--

“What the hell is going on?” Someone asks, frantic, you don’t know.

“I don’t know,” Steve replies. “Y/N? I’m gonna set you down.”

Slowly, Steve lowers you, but you aren’t met with concrete, you’re met with a soft mattress. Another bed, must be.

 Your head rolls back, the pain subsiding for only a moment. It returns as quick as it left, starting in your head, splitting your skull open. Your body seizes, unable to move. The burning is in your fucking bones but how is that even possible?

Faintly, you hear the doctor asking for something. There’s a prick in your arm, and your breathing slows.

“Thank you,” you mutter, eyes slipping closed. “Fuck.” You cough. “What the fuck was that?”

“I gave you a small dosage of a nerve blocker to ease it for now,” the doctor says. “Have you ever had something happen like that before?”

“No,” you croak, opening your eyes. “And I don’t want it to ever happen again.”

“Any ideas, doc?” The man in the bed says.

The doctor shakes his head. “I’ve never seen anything like that before. Not with as sudden of an onset as that.”

“Well, great,” you mutter, covering your eyes with your arm. “I love being a walking mystery.”

“You are a walking mystery,” the man in the bed replies. “Steve never gave us your name. Mind enlightening us?”

“Y/N,” you mutter. “Y/N L/N. I’m just a college student.”

You hear Steve sigh. Don’t do it--

“She’s Bucky’s soulmate,” Steve says, and you want to scream. But you don’t. Instead, you focus on holding back your tears.

“Well, this just got a whole lot more interesting,” someone else says. You move your arm to see it’s the Wingman. “I’m Sam, by the way.”

“Nice,” you nod.

“That’s Natasha,” Steve continues, pointing at the redhead. She has a bandage over where she was shot, a patch of red beginning to seep through. She nods at you, emotionless. “Director Nick Fury is over there.” Eye patch. Got it. “And that’s Maria Hill.”

You nod, not that you’ll remember all of their names in the next minute. Especially not if another episode of pain comes back on, but you really hope it won’t.

“I’m Dr. Fine,” the doctor says, walking around the cot to shine a flashlight in your eyes. You refrain from smacking him with it. “You’re The Winter Soldier’s soulmate, then?”

“Who’s The Winter Soldier?” You say, eyebrows furrowing. “Is that…”

Steve nods solemnly. “That’s what they call him.”

Your nose scrunches. You don’t like it at all. Yes, he wasn’t himself, but deep down, he’s still Bucky. Your Bucky.

“What are you thinking, doc?” Steve asks, arms crossed over his chest.

You turn your head away, bringing your arm down from your eyes. You have an idea of what it is, but you don’t like it. Because that means you’re going to begin feeling everything, and judging by what you just saw and experienced today, you don’t know that you’ll survive it.

“Some soulmates-- It’s not sound because there haven’t been enough studies done on this, but for some soulmates, it is possible that she feels what he feels. And vice versa.”

Your eyes close out of sheer frustration. “I figured.”

“You figured?” Steve questions, almost incredulously.

You open your eyes and you almost glare at him. “I’ve felt empty all my life, Steve. With no explanation. Went to therapists and doctors and all of them said it wasn’t that bad. So I learned to live with it. But when I woke up this morning, I felt different,” you explain, your voice losing volume the longer you speak. “Now I know why.”

“But that’s it? Just empty?” Sam chimes in, confusion covering his features, too.

“It’s possible that seeing him, face-to-face for the very first time today triggered the nerve endings,” Dr. Fine replies quietly. “Before it was muted feelings, and if they’ve brainwashed him, then that is understandable. But seeing him must have flipped a switch.”

“I’ll say,” you scoff. All you can do is deflect right now. If you think too much about Bucky, you’ll check out again. “Can you do anything at all?”

“I can prescribe some nerve blockers like what I gave you, but I don’t know how effective it’ll be,” the doctor shrugs mournfully. “They appeared to have worked for now, but I don’t know for how long. There isn’t much science behind it. Because you aren’t in pain -- he is.”

“Right,” you mutter. As if you needed the reminder.

“I’ll have them sent to the safe house,” the doctor says, nodding to Maria. “Other than that,” he focuses back on you with a sad smile. “You’re alright. Unless you have any other questions?”

“No,” you shake your head, beginning to sit up. Your calves ache, most likely from running through the streets of D.C. with heels on, but it’s nothing you haven’t dealt with before. “As long as that pain doesn’t come back, I think I’m good.”

“Is the car ready?” Steve asks, wrapping his arm around your waist to help you stand. Unfortunately, the episode zapped a lot of your energy.

“It is,” Maria nods. “I’m tagging along, but I’ll be back once they’re settled.”

“Thank you,” Steve says. Then, he cranes his neck toward you, “Ready?”

You nod, not that you have much of a choice here. A chorus of goodbyes ring out from everyone in the room, which surprises you. Natasha didn’t look like she cared for you too much, but she was also shot in the shoulder, so. Sam seemed nice. Confused about everything, but that made two of you.

After what feels like a mile-long walk to the car, Steve is helping you into the backseat of a blacked out SUV.

“Steve,” you say softly, hoping he’ll hear you. 

He does. He turns, raising his eyebrows. 

“He’s in a lot of pain,” you whisper. “Emotionally. It feels like a black hole.”

Steve nods firmly. “I’m gonna get him back.”

“What if you can’t?” You ask, tears coming back, but you shove them away. You can cry on the ride to the safe house. “What did they even do to him?”

“I don’t know,” Steve shakes his head. “But I swear, I’ll get him back.”

“Okay,” you murmur. “If you can’t, though,” you shake your head, willing the tears to stop. “It’s okay. Thank you...for everything you gave me.” You shrug half-heartedly. “I never would’ve really known him if it weren’t for you.”

You swear you see tears gathering in Steve’s eyes, too. He pulls you forward again, into his chest, holding your head as you take in a few shaking breaths. You don’t know how he’s been so put together this whole time. 

Pulling back from the hug, Steve waits until you’re looking at him before speaking again. “I promise. I’ll bring him back to you.” He smiles, all crooked and sad. “He has to meet his girl. He promised.”

You chuckle, wiping tears from your eyes, sniffling loudly. “Thank you.”

“Get some rest,” Steve says, squeezing your shoulder.

“Okay,” you promise, swinging your legs the rest of the way in the car. 

Steve shuts the door, waving to you as Maria drives away.

In the car, you finally have enough sense to check your phone. There’s a lot of panicked voicemails from your best friend, and then things calm down when she tells you she’s headed to the safe house. She’s already there, as of thirty minutes ago. You send a text to let her know you’re headed there and that you’re okay, you’re not injured.

You turn and lay down on the seats, using your arm as a pillow, and you dream.

You dream of Bucky.

[yoonjinkooked]

Daddy Day Care  |  Chapter 3

pairing; jungkook/female OC

genre; fluff, romcom, smutty in the future, Dad!Jungkook rating; explicit (IN FUTURE CHAPTERS ONLY, not yet) words; this chapter 5475, total so far (13.546)

— synopsis; Jeongguk is your average 25-year-old - job, work, friends - everything regular. Except, he has a 5 year old daughter. And he’s single. Until a “princess” waltzes into his life.

warnings for this chapter: POV changes. You still want to have Jungkook’s children. Jungkook in a Santa suit. A frustratingly smart 5yo. Cursing, banter, a whole lot of Christmas fluff. Unable-to-flirt and struggle-to-adult Jungkook.

I knock on the door, pausing between knocks to look around me, feeling paranoid. There’s not a kid in sight and most importantly, Eunmi isn’t sneaking around and trying to debunk the Santa theory.

Still, despite knowing how unlikely it is that she’ll see me, I feel weird, as if I am keeping a big secret, which I suppose I am. I just had to come here and wear a damn suit, not pretend like like this is a matter of national security.

The door before me opens and my eyes go wide, because I was expecting Gayoon, not Jimin, one of the other teachers, with a red ball on his nose and headband antlers on his head. Judging by the look on his face, he’s equally as surprised to see me. “Mr Jeon?” he frowns.

“Santa,” I correct him and watch as the look on his face turns into one of understanding as he opens the door wider and he lets me inside. “Didn’t Gayoon tell you?”

“She didn’t but then again, Gayoon’s an idiot,” he shrugs and I do a double take. Sure, I’ve referred to some of my co-workers as idiots but only in my head and not in front of others. Salty much? “I’ll call her over but I think she’s pretty busy in the kitchen.”

It’s only then that I smell it and when I do, it smacks me in the head – cinnamon. So much cinnamon. The entire hallway that we’re in smells like Christmas. I’m not a professional but if a few sniffs are enough, I’d say Gayoon is neck deep in gingerbread dough.

“Wait, what do I have to do?” I ask Jimin as he goes towards what I think is the kitchen.

“Beats me,” he shrugs. “She’s the mastermind. Don’t worry. Just… chill here. She’ll be here in a second.”

Left with no other option, I do exactly what he says. I wait and I think. Seokin’s present is already with him, as he requested a new headset and knew I’d make a better choice when buying than he would. Eunmi’s presents were all wrapped up and left under a Christmas tree last night, after I dropped her over at Namjoon and Hyejin’s place. Mom sent us food, enough to last us the whole week – all is done. Now all I need to do is to survive today.

I’m startled when the door at the end of the hallway opens up and Gayoon comes charging – dressed as an elf. “Hi,” she smiles, looking around the hallway frantically. She opens the door behind me and all but pushes me inside. “Sorry, I’m a mess right now and the place looks like Santa threw up on it and my idiot brother is too big of an idiot to tell you that the suit is here, and-“

“Jimin is your brother?” I ask in surprise. She is looking around the room, barely acknowledging me with a nod. Well, I suppose that explains why Jimin would be comfortable calling her an idiot – god knows I call Seokjin an idiot all the time. Then again, she and Jimin look nothing alike. Or maybe I just didn’t pay attention to details. “What is this, a family business?” I chuckle.

“Well, seeing as my mother owns the place, yes,” she mumbles.

“Wait, Mrs. Park is your mother?” I am surprised, thinking about the lady that’s in charge of this kindergarten and who gets my checks every month. Now, there I do see a resemblance. Now that I know, I realize that Gayoon is simply a younger, slightly more attractive version of Mrs. Park. With no offense to Mrs. Park, who still looks damn fine for her age.

“Yeah, that’s my mom,” she lets out a sigh of relief when she spots a big bag in the corner of the room. She rushes to it, picks it up and pushes it into my arms. “Here’s the suit. I had it dry cleaned last week, so it’s all lavender and shiny. Just… cover your face as best as you can,” she instructs me.

“And is Eunmi-“

“Don’t worry about Eunmi,” she smiles. “Once your kid is in the kindergarten, she’s our worry, not yours Jeongguk. You just be Santa and don’t you worry about a thing. And the cookies I promised will be here soon, unless I burn down the kitchen. See you later,” she’s out of the room before I can even take a breath, much less utter a word or two.

And I am left with a trash bag that holds what I am afraid will end up being the suit of pain.

Even though she looked as if she was seconds away from losing her mind, Gayoon seemed to have everything under control, with the help of Jimin. And the cookies he brought to me while I waited around, fidgeting in the suit, are as good as any Christmas cookies I’ve ever had.

And the suit? Well, the suit is doable. It’s a bit too hot inside of it for my liking. But compared to the beard, the suit is just fine. The beard? This thing is itchy as fuck and after a long look in the mirror, I am 100% sure I won’t be fooling anyone today, not even the bunch of 5 year olds waiting for me.

“It’s time, follow me,” Gayoon peeks into the room and as I stand up, I realize that the look on her face is giving her away – she’s trying really hard not to laugh directly in my face.

“Is it that bad?” I sigh.

“Nope, not at all,” she shakes her head.

“You’re a miserable liar, you know,” I raise my eyebrow at her but I’m pretty sure she can’t see it because the Santa hat is covering half of my face.

“Nah, I’m just not trying hard enough,” she laughs. “Come on, let’s go.”

One hallway after the other, I end up in front of a line of parents, who are all smiling my way. I am pretty sure most of them can figure out who I am and that’s not good for my already deflated ego. A good portion of them already look at me like I’m a kid with a kid, like I am somehow less capable of a parent than they are and having me dressed up as Santa is not going to do me any favors.

But then again, I’m doing this for my kid. What are they doing for theirs?

And the second I feel good about myself, I spot my friends. Unlike Gayoon, the two couples have no problem with laughing directly into my face. Especially Namjoon and Yoongi, since they’re probably having war flashbacks of the suit and are so glad they’re not in it this year.

“Shut it,” I glare at them as I walk past them but Namjoon only laughs harder. “Hoe,” he freezes mid-laughter. “Ho-ho,” I cover it up, making the other three laugh and Namjoon glare at me.

“Go on with your walk of shame, Santa,” he retaliates by pushing me to walk faster.

I will kill him. I don’t know when, I don’t know how but I will kill him.

This… this might have been a horrible mistake.

I don’t know Jeongguk nearly enough to know if he’s capable of doing this or not. For all I know, he can’t act to save his life. But whether he can’t act to save his life or he’s an Oscar-worthy actor, he’s the only guy we’ve got. So, Jimin and I ceremoniously introduce him as Santa Claus and he walks into the playroom, ho-ho-hoing his way around while the children scream and clap.

The beard is barely covering his baby face and the pillow stuffed inside of the suit looks abnormal.

I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Jimin. We should have left Jeongguk as a skinny Santa – that would be more believable. But then again, these are five year olds, not grown people that he has to fool. And looking around at all the kiddos, they look like they are buying it. They laugh and cheer, answer his questions at the very same time and smile brightly because it’s him! It’s Santa!

“Miss Gayoon?” I feel a tug on the sleeve of my green elf suit and when I look down, I see Eunmi reaching for me.

“What is it, sweetie?” I ask, hoping Jeongguk doesn’t see it and gets distracted by his own daughter.

“Why is my Dad pretending to be Santa?” she whispers to me.

Shit.

I knew it was a risk but we all underestimated Eunmi. The kid is bright as hell and at the age of 5, she can already read! All of us should have known that she would be able to recognize her own father under the fake white beard and a huge red suit.

I smile and take her by the hand, moving us away from the other kids. She follows but when I kneel down to be face to face with her, I see a frown on her cute little face, her chubby cheeks even more prominent than usual. “Honey, this is top secret. Can you keep a secret?” I ask.

“Yes,” she nods, her little pigtails jumping with the bob of her head.

“You know how Santa has to deliver aaaaaaall the presents to kids all over the world, right?” I ask and she nods. “Well, Santa is currently really super mega busy with the delivery and also, Rudolph and his friends need to rest a bit. So, Santa asked me to ask your dad to give you guys presents instead of him. Santa asks a lot of people to help because sometimes he doesn’t have enough time to visit everyone.”

“You talked to Santa?” she asks, her doe eyes looking at me in awe.

“Sure did,” I nod. “And your dad is on a super-secret mission so we need to be shhh about it, okay?” I put my finger over my lips, hoping this is good enough for the little one to keep it a secret.

“Hm… seems legit.”

I do a double take, wondering if she just said what I think she said.

“Sweetie… did you just say ‘seems legit’?” I ask, trying hard not to laugh.

“Yes,” she nods.

“Where did you…? Do you know what that means?” I ask.

“Daddy says we say that when something is true,” she shrugs her little shoulder and yes, my suspicions are confirmed. Jeon Jeongguk is a true dork and his cute daughter is going to be an awesome dork too.

“Well, he’s right,” I nod and I smile when I offer her my pinky. “Pinky promise not to tell anyone?”

“Deal,” she nods, accepting my pinky with her own and shaking them together.

I finally breathe out a sigh of relief when she runs along to join her friends. If Eunmi was a little less smart, this could have ended up being an utter disaster. And this is a warning sign – next year we are totally hiring someone to play Santa because Dads are officially off limits.

Gayoon finally feels free enough to laugh directly into my face when she watches me tear off the beard and hat, throwing them both to the ground. “I’m not doing this again,” I warn her.

“Nah, you won’t have to,” she shakes her head. “Eunmi figured you out.”

“She did?!”

The little weasel was sitting in my lap, smiling brightly and asking for a puppy. And when I said that I’m not sure if mom and dad would be happy with a puppy, she insisted they would love it!

“I am raising a professional liar,” I sigh, falling onto a chair. “She straight up pretended not to know me!”

“In her defense, I asked her to,” Gayoon raises her hands. “If she had said something, we would all be in trouble and we’d have to explain to 20 something kids that Santa isn’t real. Or that Santa is actually the father of one of their classmates. Whichever one you’d prefer.”

“Thank god,” I sigh, rubbing my eyes while at the same time reaching for a cookie. “I don’t know how you guys do it, I swear. Handling one five-year-old is a challenge on its own but 20 of them?! How?”

“It’s a job, not a hobby,” she shrugs, looking completely unfazed. “We do what we have to do and if that means handling 20 five-year-olds at once, we do it. Now, about all of this – I owe you one. Name your price,” she looks guilty, as if she knows just how much of a pain it was for me to do this. In fact, she probably knows, seeing as she is dressed as an elf, a bell on her hat too, ringing with every step.

“Nah,” I shake my head. “Seeing you miserable in that costume is payment enough.”

“Hey!” she glares at me. “It’s not my fault I wear stupid costumes every time we run into each other.”

“True,” I shrug. “But seriously, you don’t owe me anything. I did it for my girl and all the other kiddos. And for you, as a favor.”

“Christmas spirit and all that?”

“Sure, call it that,” I shrug as I get up. “But seriously, thank you for-“

“Ooof,” she is suddenly distracted. “Mistletoe,” she points at the ceiling between us and my blood freezes.

Mistletoe. Me. Her.

Crap.

I mean, she is cute, and pretty and funny and all that but… how much did we even talk? And she’s… she’s Eunmi’s teacher. That wouldn’t be very smart of me.

I am still frozen when she lurches forward. For a second, for one second, I think she is coming right at me but instead, she reaches and grabs the mistletoe, tearing it off the ceiling. “I told Jimin mistletoes are too much for the kindergarten but the idiot never listens,” she shakes her head as she scrunches the decoration in her hand, before throwing it down on the floor and smiling at me. “You don’t have to thank me for anything, we owe you. Take all the cookies you want on your way out, but I need to go and clean the kitchen before it’s too late. Thank you. Merry Christmas, in advance.”

“Merry Christmas,” I smile, nodding when she turns around and leaves the room.

She didn’t even consider it.

I know I was kind of against it but… she didn’t even consider it. She crushed that mistletoe in a matter of seconds.

Why am kind of insulted if I didn’t want to do it to begin with?

I make sure to stomp on the mistletoe on my way out.

“Come on sweetie, you can do the countdown,” I tell Eunmi as I reach towards the wall.

“Okay. Three… two… one,” I turn around just in time to watch her face beam up as the lights turn on.

Watching her like this is… worth it. It’s worth every sleepless night, every day I worked overtime, every time I spent half the night touching her forehead to check if her fever was down because I couldn’t even look away from her, much less sleep. Every single hard part of being her dad is absolutely fucking worth it when I see her face light up as she enjoys the sight before her.

Even climbing all over the living room furniture is worth it.

“Daddy, it’s beautiful,” she giggles as she turns around in place, looking around the room.

“I know, we worked hard,” I laugh, “And now’s the time for the star,” I announce before I reach for her. Without much effort, I manage to lift her up so that she could reach the top of the Christmas tree. She sways it a bit towards us and I switch positions to hold the tree with one hand and her with the other – I’m lucky she is light as a feather. After a few seconds of struggling, she puts the star on the top. “Ta-da!” she giggles when I move us away from the tree to look at the final result.

“Perfect,” I smile, reaching to kiss her head. “You are the best Christmas decorator ever!”

“I’m awesome,” she smiles down at me.

“Yes, you are.”

“You’re awesome too, daddy,” she giggles.

“Yes I am.”

“So… puppy?” she asks, looking… well, like a kid asking for a puppy.

“Why you little!” I laugh as I reach to tickle her, smiling instantly when she starts laughing and pushing my hand away at the same time. “You want a puppy, huh?”

“Santa told- told me- Santa told me-,” she talks between laughter. I slow down with the tickling, not wanting her to struggle to speak. “Santa told me I might get one.”

“Sure he did,” I roll my eyes. “Miss Gayoon told me you figured out I was Santa.”

“Oh,” her smile drops only for a second before she smiles again. “Of course I did, daddy. Santa sounded just like you and he had your face. The beard didn’t hide your eyes! And voice! A beard can’t hind the voice! You should have been smarter daddy!”

“Yes I should have been smarter,” I laugh. “I’ll tell you what… Since you can’t stop bugging me about the puppy… how about you and I go to the shelter after New Year’s, huh? You will be with Mom for a few days but when you come here again, we’ll go to a shelter and pick a puppy? Does that sound like a deal?”

“Really?!” she gasps in shock, her eyes wide. “Really?!”

“Really.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!” she yells, throwing her arms around my neck and squeezing as hard as she can. “You’re the best dad in the whole world!”

“Merry Christmas, sweetie.” I kiss her head as I snuggle her closer.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Eunmi,” I glare at her as I try to find my goddamn phone that’s blasting ‘You really got me’ by The Kinks. The sound is becoming louder and louder and once I don’t find it between the couch cushions, I need to pause and parent cause I see Eunmi reaching for the cake. “No way!” I warn her, ignoring her signature pout. “Eat your veggies first, then cake,” I raise a finger in warning.

“But daddy, veggies are yucky!”

“Oh come on, you eat veggies all the time,” I roll my eyes, knowing that she’s just playing it. She eats them all, but not when there’s cake on the table too, apparently. “Where the he- is my phone,” I barely manage to stop the curse before it leaves my mouth but Eunmi catches on to it. Our eyes meet again and she shakes her head in disappointment.

“Daddy said a bad word,” she looks as if she just saw me break the law.

“No, Daddy almost said a bad word, but he’s very smart and he stopped just in time before you could-“ in the middle of my lecture, the phone stops ringing and I sigh in disappointment.

At this point, I might as well just call it a day and conclude that I am NOT good at adulting.

“Your phone is next to the Nintendo,” Eunmi tells me and I turn around – sure enough, my phone is right there, as if it is mocking me with ha-ha, you blind loser attitude. However, my daughter is a priority and the fact that she did not point the phone’s location out until it stopped ringing.

“You knew it was there, didn’t you?”

“No,” she shakes her head. While she can have her moments, she’s not that big of a liar. And even if she was, I can call her bluff and I can tell she’s not lying now. “It shined when it stopped ringing.”

“What is it doing next to the Nintendo anyways?” I mumble as I reach towards it.

“You put it there last night when we were playing Super Mario.”

Oh. Yeah, I did. Not only am I not good at adulting but my five year old is better at adulting than I am.

“Thanks for helping, sweetie. Now eat your veggies and don’t even smell that cake before you eat all the carrots,” I warn her, smiling when I see her stuffing her face with little carrot pieces, just so that she could eat the cake sooner. “Easy there, the cake won’t run anywhere,” I laugh as I go over and see the missed call. I call it instantly. I might not be responsible when it comes to answering the phone but who the hell would call me on Christmas Day?

“Hello?” a female voice responds.

“Hi, yeah, I just got a missed call from this number.”

Can I sound more awkward? Like, is it actually possible?

“Oh! Jeongguk, is it you?”

“Yeah?” I frown in confusion.

“Oh, sorry. It’s Park Gayoon, Eunmi’s kindergarten teacher.”

Oh shit.

“Oh. You could have just said Gayoon though, I would have connected the dots,” I laugh awkwardly, only realizing how pathetic I sound when the words already leave my mouth. God, it’s like I’m losing my ability to talk like an adult. Although in my defense, I was absolutely not expecting her to call.

I mean, it’s Christmas. There’s no reason for it. We barely even properly talked yesterday and the mistletoe incident is still bruising my ego. I mean, she didn’t even consider it!

“Oh, I would have guessed so but since I’m calling on official kindergarten business, I thought it might be better to remain professional,” she explains.

“Oh. Well in that case, what can I do for you today, Miss Park?” I ask and honestly, if she wasn’t able to hear me, I would have breathed out a sigh of relief when she chuckled. It’s nice to know that not every single one of my comments sounds as idiotic as I think it does. “Also, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you get my number?”

Because if she got it the way I think she did, I will murder both Hyejin and Namjoon. Perhaps even Moonbyul and Yoongi too, if they had something to do with it. None of them would surprise me, since they love to use good intentions as an excuse to tease me and this would be a perfect chance.

“I founded in the student’ documentation,” she tells me. Oh. Okay. Makes sense, seeing as she has already pointed out she’s calling as a teacher, not a chick I saw twice in my life. “I apologize for calling you, I mean, it’s Christmas, Marry Christmas, by the way, but you left your wallet here yesterday.”

“I have?”

“Well, unless you have a doppelgänger who shares the same name as you do, yes.”

“I haven’t even realized,” I sigh, yet again disappointed in myself. Who does that? Seriously, who does that? I have zero control over my life, I feel like I’m a dumb teenage boy all over again. I can’t find my phone, ever, I lost my wallet and fuck, I can’t even stop myself from cursing in front of my daughter! Why can’t I just be… a proper grownup?! “Okay,” I sigh, trying to think of something. I can always call Jin to babysit. “I know it’s Christmas so could you just… hide the wallet somewhere near the kindergarten? I will drive out to come and get it. You don’t have to wait for me, I’d feel bad if you’d be stuck at work for Christmas.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she chuckles. “I only checked for the ID, but I am pretty positive your driver’s license is currently in my hands.”

Damn it.

“Yep, it is,” I sigh. “I’ll take a cab then, I can’t risk driving without it and having the cops-“

“No, don’t waste money. Besides, how will you pay for it?” she chuckles again. “Look, I can stop by your place and just give it to you. I will be on my way home in half an hour anyways.”

“Oh no, I can’t let you do that,” I shake my head. It’s Christmas, for the love of everything! She should be with her family or doing whatever the hell she wants to do, not be my delivery service. “You can leave it at the kindergarten and I’ll figure something out, I really don’t want to bother you.”

“I won’t be trekking through miles of snow,” she tells me. “It’s just a short drive.”

“Is it on your way at least?” I ask, realizing that she probably isn’t going to back down.

“Not really, no,” she answers honestly. “But I can’t leave you without money and identification. The cops are looking for drunk drivers left and right today, I was stopped earlier. I’ll just call you when I’m close to your place and you can meet me on the street or something?” she suggests.

“Yeah, I can do that,” I nod. “I’m so sorry about this Gayoon. Miss Park. Miss Gayoon. I don’t know.”

“Gayoon is just fine,” she laughs at my confusion because of course she does. “No need to apologize, it can happen to everyone. I’ll call you when I’m near, okay?”

“Wait, how do you know where I live?” I ask once I realize she hasn’t asked me for an address.

“Well, I did have to look at Eunmi’s documents to get your number and your address is conveniently written down,” she laughs. “Not to mention you talked about your neighborhood at Hyejin’s dinner party. It is both a blessing and a curse to have a good memory. And after all, I do have your ID in my hands.”

I need to end this call before I embarrass myself further. “Yeah, point taken. Okay, just let me know when I need to get down.”

“Sure. See you soon.”

“Thank you,” I end the call and turn to Eunmi, who was happily eating a piece of cake. The little rascal didn’t wait for my permission, but at least her lunch was eaten completely, carrots and all.

“Sweetie, I’m going to have to run out the house for a minute or two soon,” I tell her and she nods, mouth full of chocolate cake. “Do you want to come with me?” I check. Actually, scratch that, she is coming with me. As smart as she is, there is no way in hell I am leaving a five year old alone, not even for a minute. “Yeah, you’re coming with me. Miss Gayoon is going to bring me my wallet, I left it in your kindergarten. This way you can wish her a Merry Christmas, okay?”

“Miss Gayoon is coming?” her face lights up in a second. For someone who has never mentioned Miss Gayoon before, at least not to me, she sure does like her.

“Yes, she’s doing me a big favor.”

“Why don’t we invite her here?” Eunmi asks me. “I know she likes chocolate cake a lot.”

Good question, why don’t we? The girl is doing me a favor, a favor she didn’t have to do at all. She is driving to the other side of town, on Christmas, to do me a favor. I know she said that she owes me for pretending to be Santa for one day, but this wasn’t necessary. The least I can do is invite her inside for some cake or maybe a drink – especially seeing since Eunmi obviously wants that too.

On the other hand, do I really need to create more opportunities to embarrass myself? More time with her is just more time for me to look like a complete idiot in front of her. Which is hardly the end of the world because of ‘the mistletoe incident’.

Be a decent human being and make my daughter happy or save the last pieces of my dignity?

Ugh, what is wrong with me? How the hell did I even get Yuri to like me, much less give birth to my daughter?! I suppose that after years of generally avoiding women, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that I get tongue-tied in front of one. Not to mention she’s pretty.

“Okay, fine,” I sigh, ignoring Eunmi’s confused look. “We’ll invite her.”

Let’s just wait and see how much I will regret this.

 I wonder what’s worse, an old school paper map or GPS because based on my experience, both come from the deepest pits of hell. I have been circling around the neighborhood, trying to find number 19, not even considering the option of calling him again. Sure, my sense of direction is absolutely horrible but does that really need to be public knowledge?

I was about to circle once again, when I noticed someone stepping from one of the buildings onto the empty street. I lean over the passenger’s seat to try to see through the window if it’s him or not, but before I do, I see a little ball of fluff in a pink jacket – I’d recognize that jacket anywhere.

There is no way I didn’t drive around that building at least twice – but at least I don’t have to do it the third time. I stop the car pretty much in front of them. It takes me a few seconds to turn off the engine and grab Jeongguk’s wallet – as soon as I do, I rush outside to greet them.

Eunmi catches my eye immediately, looking even cuter than usual, in the bright pink fluffy jacket that looks as if it’s about to swallow her whole. My heart melts instantly when she smiles brightly at me.

“Miss Gayoon!” she waves at me in the speed of light.

“Hey sweetie,” I chuckle at her excitement before looking over to her father. “Here’s the wallet,” I smile, handing him the brown, leather wallet. I nearly chuckle once I register his outfit because he looks just as fluffed up as Eunmi, with a hoodie and a large, green puffy jacket over it. I haven’t seen him with glasses before – he looks even younger with them than without them.

“Thank you, you’re a life saver,” he tells me.

“Hardly,” I laugh at his expression. Sure, it’s nice of me, I have a kind heart and so on and so on but life saver? Nope. “I’m happy to help. Anyways, I don’t want to hold you back from your plans. I wish you both a Merry Christmas.”

“Miss Gayoon, stay with us,” Eunmi speaks up before Jeongguk could beat her to it. It’s quite comical to watch him, a grown adult, throw a glare at his little girl. A glare that turns into a head tilt and a soft chuckle. Busted, I suppose. “We have cake.”

“We were going to invite you properly but Eunmi here seems to be very excited,” Jeongguk explains, giving the girl a pointed look, which she doesn’t even register as she’s still smiling at me. I look back at Jeongguk, wondering if he’s being forced into it by Eunmi. “A cake for a favor?” he suggests.

“We keep offering each other food in exchange for favors,” I point out.

“Oh well,” he shrugs. “Food is the best.”

“I agree,” I nod. “I don’t want to impose though, I don’t want to interrupt your family time,” I tell him. From what I know, Eunmi lives mostly with her mother, so I can only imagine that Jeongguk doesn’t have too much time to spend with her. The last thing I want to do is to impose on his time with her.

“No, you wouldn’t,” he shakes his head. “Unless you have somewhere to be, you’re more than welcome to join us. Coffee? Cake? Super Mario?” he suggests, at which Eunmi very literally starts jumping up and down in place.

Damn it. Even if I was able to refuse him, I sure as hell am not able to refuse Eunmi.

I could think of at least 10 reasons why this is highly inappropriate but it all kind of falls into water when I remind myself that I am even friends with the parents of the kids I teach. If I can have lunch with Hyejin, nothing makes this situation inappropriate.

Except the fact that it’s their apartment. And while Hyejin is… well, one hell of a woman, I don’t bat for the same team. The again, as cute as Jeongguk can seem, he’s really not the type I’d ever go for, father of one of the kiddos or not.

I’m just confusing myself. The truth is, I adore Eunmi and I’m weak enough to be peer pressured by a five year old. And I like chocolate cake.

“Well, if you add Super Mario into the mix… Sure, why not?” I agree with a small smile.

[hightress]

The Grumpy Cat And The Barista

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

AO3 Link

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Pairing: Kiribaku, Bakushima

Characters: Kirishima, Bakugou, Todoroki, Jirou 

Additional Tags:  Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, writer Bakugou, Barista Kirishima Eijirou, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Crack, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Cat Cafés, Alternate Universe - No Quirks (My Hero Academia)                    

Chapters: 1/1

Word count: 5,796

Summary: In which Bakugou needs a place to write and learns that a Kitty Café is definitely not the best place to do it.

OK, so here's the deal. Bakugou didn't enjoy writing - not the act of it anyway. It took too much time and the rewards were too little to satisfy him. His back ached after a day in front of his computer and his eyes stung because of the screen. He hated it. If he could, he would've thrown the laptop out the window without any regrets. The only reason why he didn't was that, despite all pain and wasted time, it helped him.

He's never been a patient person and he just couldn't suffer to see or hear certain things sometimes and do nothing. It was so easy to get angry just by walking down the street. Just having someone bump into him and say nothing or hearing the screams of the still hangover students that lived close to him was more than enough to make him want to act, either by shouting back at them or punching something, even someone's face. And, apparently, that wasn't a normal reaction to have.

It wasn't Bakugou's problem that most people were too terrified to have an opinion.

So, if he couldn't react in real life as he wanted because, c'mon, being arrested for something as petty as a shouting contest or light punch was the furthest thing he needed in his life, he was going to do it somewhere else. In a place that he could control and punish people that annoyed him as he liked.

Of course, writing hadn't been his first choice. Or his tenth one. But it worked better than any sport ever could.

The paper listened and never judged. Never tried to fix him or nagged him to be a better person. Just took his anger, his harsh words and turned them into something.

"Die!" shouted Bakugou, using the pen in his hand like some sort of knife, leaving messy marks all over paper as he finished another paragraph. Alternating the computer with the old-school approach was a new thing, but it worked nevertheless.

A sigh could be heard from the other side of the room.

"Did you just kill me? Again?" asked Todoroki, voice full of exasperation. He was lying in his bed, messy hair coloring his light blue sheets and eyes closed. Exhausted was the best way to describe him at that moment, clearly stated by the dark circles under his eyes. Having an exam at 7 in the morning was tough and a small break after was understandable, but to someone like Bakugou, it felt like a complete waste of time.

Bakugou's only answer had been a snort. He's spent enough months with Todoroki since they've both moved in the flat at the beginning of the year to understand him properly and hate his guts.

(Not that it would've been difficult to get Bakugou to hate something.)

Whenever he looked at Todoroki, all he could think about was 'wasted potential'. Extremely smart, with enough family connections to make the university's attempts of getting the students decent placements seem like a joke, he had everything he needed to be the best in their year. He was close to the top, but for Bakugou the word 'close' ruined everything. Why be 'good' or 'decent' when you can be the best? The second place wasn't good enough. And would never be for Bakugou.

Bakugou could only dream about such connections and, for an aspiring lawyer, they were everything.

The saddest part was that Todoroki had so much more than that. Bakugou had seen him in action - defending a case, building it up. He was good. More than that, he was impressive, but only when he was serious about it.

So, yeah, Bakugou hated him and, since he couldn't punch Todoroki, killing him was a great alternative. After all, even his breathing pattern annoyed Bakugou sometimes - he wrote about it. And took it to the extreme.

"It's the third time in four chapters, isn't it? If you ever hope to publish that, don't you think your readers will complain?" asked Todoroki, not impressed by the act itself. He got used to Bakugou's antics after the first two months. Getting murdered in a fictional story wasn't that fascinating.

Bakugou answered immediately in the only way he knew how to communicate - loudly.

"They'd rather thank me for getting rid of your stupid ass," he shouted. "Now shut up, you piece of shit. I need to focus on this."

Todoroki opened one eye to look at him.

"Do you even want it to be published? Is there some action besides the random killing?" Both were legit questions. And Bakugou had no idea how to answer either of them.

He narrowed his eyes.

"Say one more word and I'll make it four times. Don't test me," he threatened, fingers tightly clenched around the pen, ready to keep his word.

Todoroki didn't say anything after that, just closed his eyes and rolled over, his back facing Bakugou.

For a good full minute, Bakugou really believed he fell asleep.

"You know," he suddenly spoke again, startling Bakugou and breaking the illusion, not moving an inch. "If you really  want to write, maybe you can do it in a place where it'll be easier for you to concentrate."

Which could've translated as 'I want to sleep and you're screaming too much'. Or not. It didn't matter.

Despite what a huge part of him wanted - which was to shout some more at Todoroki or even throw some ink in his face - Bakugou considered his proposal. It didn't sound that bad.

"Like where?"

He didn't know what he expected, but having Todoroki deep in thought for a period of time too long to be socially acceptable only to blurt out a weak  "A park...?" definitely wasn't it.

"A park?" repeated Bakugou. "Are you dumb, assface?" When Todoroki said nothing in his defence, Bakugou explained "There are hundreds of kids in there. Hundreds of loud, bitchy little shits. Fuck no, I'm not going there."

Why did he even try to ask someone like Todoroki in the first place? His social skills were disastrous and that, coming from Bakugou, meant something. He still found himself asking further.

"Any other ideas, genius?"

After another short pause, Todoroki answered, even though his confidence in his own words was just as absent as the previous time.

"Maybe... Maybe a coffee shop?" he said, clearly aware of how unhelpful the suggestion was for someone like Bakugou. For any other person, a place like that might've worked, but surrounding Bakugou with gossiping teenagers and filling him with caffeine? Bad combination.

"Like every single loser? Classic. You're so fucking useless," said Bakugou as he sat up. He grabbed all his papers and his laptop, shoving them all a bit too aggressively in a backpack.

None of them doubted the state of the papers inside - horribly folded and almost ripped in two or three places. Another thing that made the bag heavier than necessary was a law textbook that Bakugou intended to finish by the end of the week. End of exams be damned, he refused to fall behind. That way, if he didn't feel like writing, he was sure as hell not going to waste time like a fucking wimp.

Throwing his backpack over his shoulder, he looked one last time at Todoroki's back and shouted for good measure, just to be an asshole.

"Enjoy your damn nap!"

He closed the door with a loud 'bang' and left the building one minute after that, still undecided about where he was headed. He contemplated going to the library - it would've been quieter at least - but, at the same time, since it was part of the university, he knew the chances of meeting someone that knew him were pretty high. And he definitely didn't feel like dealing with any of them, especially when he was working on something so personal.

Todoroki finding out had been an accident, to begin with. He didn't want to share his written work with anyone. It was his business, ok? If he felt like murdering people, it was his fucking decision. The last thing he wanted was some moron's opinion about how he should be doing things.

So, yeah, he had no idea where to go, but that's what Google Maps was for, right? He'd only need to type 'café' once and decide on one close enough.

(Todoroki's idea still sucked. But Bakugou couldn't think of anything more decent and he didn't have time to waste on something so stupid.)

The maps would've been a wonderful option. Incredible even. Sadly, because Bakugou had to be Bakugou, he forgot to charge his phone the day before.

"Of-fucking-course," he muttered under his breath shoving the phone in one of his pockets. He had no other choice but to walk around like a freaking tourist hoping to find something where he could work in peace.

Surprisingly enough, after fifteen minutes of searching like a retard, all he managed to find was a bakery (which was a huge no) and a place that only sold bagels. Again, a huge no.

It took him ten more minutes to reach a building that had 'Café' written in huge, bold letters above the door and when he saw it, he didn't bother to read what was placed before or after any other shit. He was thirsty and annoyed and tired and even if he hadn't actually wanted a drink before, he sure as hell wanted one then.

The second he stepped inside, he realized he made a mistake.

There was purple - everywhere. Purple cushions, purple pillows, purple uniforms, purple toys. Yes, fucking toys, for cats because - guess what - there were cats all over the damn place.

Did Bakugou mention that he couldn't stand cats? They were whiny and needy and lame and he couldn't care less. How people managed to live with them and not murder them in the middle of the goddamn night was a fucking miracle.

He was already turning around, ready to leave the place and go write on the bus or some other shit like that, when one of the people working there had the audacity to talk to him. And Bukugou, being his usual self, didn't listen to any word the person said. However, as soon as the other finished the sentence or question or whatever, because Bakugou had been raised to be polite enough, he moved his head to the side to shout his usual 'Fuck off' before exiting the building, only to swallow his words when his eyes met the person that addressed him.

And what left his mouth had been a non-contained shout of "What the hell is that?", followed by an awkward silence.

Everyone stared at him, unmoving. Funny how the entire atmosphere of the shop changed in a millisecond because of something he did. He didn't give a fuck.

The person that got that reaction out of him didn't frown, didn't complain about the volume or anything like that. He just sat next to the desk at the entrance, looking at Bakugou with confusion.

"That wasn't very specific, man." said the guy, tilting his head to the side. Not that Bakugou followed the movement, still too intrigued (and disgusted) by the top of the other's head, unable to tear his eyes away from the weird shape found there.

"Do you call that hair?" asked Bakugou, his volume high and words unfiltered. But how could he do anything but that when that haircut (did he really pay for that shit?) was such a disgrace to human nature?

It was red, but not any kind of red, that type that literally jumped in your face and attacked you with the intensity of the colour. The worst part, however, was its entire form. Hair wasn't supposed to work like that - spikes of different sizes defying gravity and looking like an absolute mistake.

Why were they all staring at him like he just killed Jesus when his question was so fucking valid? They couldn't have not thought about it at least once in their sorry lives. If they thought he was rude, they were either used to lying to themselves or plain stupid.

Judging from the place they were at, either working or fucking around, it could've been both.

Only one person in the entire damn shop didn't seem to take it to heart. The single damn guy that had the right to actually feel attacked.

"Yeah. Isn't it cool?" he asked, smiling brightly and genuinely, as of Bakugou had just complimented, not only his hair, but every single thing about him. His eyes (also red because of course they had to be) were sparkling, for fuck's sake.

How the hell was Bakugou supposed to react to this? He couldn't scream 'I just insulted you, moron. Why the fuck are you so happy about it?'. Actually, he could, but he didn't want or need to make conversation or some shit like that.

So he settled for the better alternative. A growled, "It looks like something died in there."

Not even that kind of comment wiped the smile from the bastard's face. "Never thought of it that way. But it's a good thing, right?" It was unnerving.

Definitely not, thought Bakugou, gritting his teeth.

Was the guy on drugs? Before Bakugou could think this through, the other's grin only widened, if that was even possible. He scanned Bakugou from head to toe and exclaimed "Love your shirt, man. Is it from Forbidden Planet?"

Bakugou instinctively looked down at himself. To be honest, he had forgotten what he had thrown on himself in the morning. It was a normal occurrence - it was black and loose, that's all he needed to know. There was a skull on the front, contrasting heavily with the dark background. It was sick. Bakugou loved it, but that didn't explain this stranger's enthusiasm regarding it. Or what that Forbidden Planet place was.

He hated not understanding things.

"Huh?" he asked, or, more exactly, emitted with confusion. The sound was loud enough to make the person next to him cringe at the volume, but, somehow, it got covered completely by another voice, this time from one of the losers working there.

"Kirishima!" shouted a girl, her headphones hanging around her neck. The guy turned towards her instantly. "Are you going to do your job or not?"

He didn't grimace, didn't show any specific remorse. Just stayed as a sunny beam of bullshit.

"Yeah, sorry. In a second," the guy promised and looked at Bakugou once again. "It's an awesome shop two streets away from here. Definitely worth checking out," he explained before quickly adding: "By the way, I'm supposed to ask - do you have a reservation?"

"Was I supposed to?" Reservations were stupid and why the hell would he even make one? He didn't intend to stay anyway, not with all that purple and the constant meowing of hundreds (more like fifteen, but who was he to count) of cats.

Kirishima - the red tornado guy of sunshine - didn't seem to get the memo. "It's kind of a rule. Don't worry though, we have enough space at the moment. Just wait for a second and I'll fetch you a table."

"I don't need a damn table," mumbled Bakugou, his words muffled by the cries of three or four cats that decided to open their goddamn mouths in that exact same moment. It wasn't surprising at all that Kirishima didn't hear anything from him with all that noise.

He simply grabbed Bakugou's elbow (who the hell did that to a stranger, what the fuck?) as gently as possible, while still having a pretty strong hold on him and manoeuvring him around the café as if he was a bag of chips. Which, he, obviously, wasn't. It wasn't that big of a shop anyway and, in the 20-30 seconds it took them to move around it, Bakugou realized a couple things.

First of all, the guy needed to fucking let go of him or he was going to end up dead for real, not just on paper. Or cremated or some other shit. Second of all, having 'enough space' was a freaking lie. They barely had a chair to spare and the ones that were available had at least one cat acting like a complete brat on top of them. There was even a table where a guy had been forced to sit on the stairs next to his friends in order to let one of those furred fuckers to keep his seat. Such a wimp. If he allowed an animal to order him around and control his life, he definitely deserved to be called a loser.

And, lastly, why did these people have a perfectly fine table for two in the far corner of the shop unoccupied when it was so clear that they were overcrowded? Because that's exactly where Kirishima took him.

"Is this ok with you, man?" he had asked as he positioned Bakugou right in front of the table, his hands tapping twice his shoulders before letting him go.

Bakugou, uncharacteristically, didn't comment on the gesture, too confused about being moved around and touched so familiarly to function as he normally would - with a lot of trashing around and screams and murder promises. Not that he couldn't get to that later, as soon as he snapped out of it.

"Whatever," he said instead, moving his head to the side, not wanting to stare at Kirishima more than necessary. He wanted him gone already. Having him this close made Bakugou feel like he was slightly suffocating.

And some God above must've pitied him enough to answer his wish.

"I'll take that as a yes then," said Kirishima and smiled. "Sadly, I have to go and help some other customers, but I'll be back to you shortly. Order anything you want, I promise they are all good."

After that, he left, and Bakugou found himself standing next to the table he's been led to, no knowing how to react. But it would've been weird to chose that moment to get out of that place, especially after his interaction with Kirishima. He knew that. That's why he decided to stay, nothing more, nothing less. As he lowered himself to his seat, he noted the softness of the pillow stuck to the chair. It might've been coloured like a glowing unicorn skin, but he couldn't really deny its comfiness.

The menu was placed neatly in the centre of the table and, from the looks of it, was going to stay there for the rest of the day. Call him picky or whatever, but he wasn't going to touch something that had pink lettering, badly pixelated as well, on top of a violet pattern of a cat in heat. (It had hearts instead of eyes, sue him for having an opinion. It was a horrifying image anyway.)

He took his time to lay down his things, taking in the whole atmosphere of the shop. After all, if he wanted to work there, he needed to decide if it was possible to focus with all of the continuous noise and movement involved. It wasn't as bad as he initially thought, the loudest thing to be heard were the voices of the employers and even they didn't give Bakugou an excuse to get lost. The only apparent problem remained the cats - the most volatile subject included in the equation. He didn't know what to expect, if any of them scratched or if they were going to leave hair all over his things if he turned around for merely a second. At that hour, most of them seemed to be asleep, only two or three walking around the shop with their tails high in the air like some self-declared divas. Only one cared for human touch, the others running away before they were even approached.

Bakugou didn't blame them. He would've done the same after he made them bleed if he had sharp pointy things at the end of his fingers and someone had nothing better to do than to annoy him.

Even after he had the whole table turned into his own personal desk, he didn't start, just kept looking around, not sure himself what for. All he knew was that his eyes kept looking back at the strange guy from before, either by accident or attracted by the energy in his voice.

He was entertaining to watch, to say at least. And his hair was starting to feel less and less like the worst part. As soon as he noticed the uniform, he flinched, unsure how he had missed it before. One would think that by that point Bakugou might've gotten used to the colours, but that definitely wasn't the case when he felt like tearing his own eyes out just by glancing twice at the pink and violet paw patterns placed all over their aprons. The silver glitter didn't make it any better. All of that - including the mandatory fake cat ears that everyone working there seemed to wear - had the potential to work on a girl. It was girly, it made sense, and it could be seen clearly in the shop since most of the employers were of the opposite sex, but on a male like that Kirishima? He didn't get it.

It seemed like a bad marketing strategy.

Bakugou could see muscles under that shirt, decent ones nevertheless. Why have something like that hidden just because their stupid uniform demanded it?

As soon as he remarked this, looking away became even more difficult. He had to force himself to move his attention back to his work and, even when he did, it took him a few minutes to focus properly. After that, it was easy to lose himself in his words, paragraph after paragraph lying there one after the other, bloody and way too descriptive for a simple therapeutic piece of writing.

He had little over a page finished by the time he got interrupted and a much calmer mind to deal with the rest of the world.

"Hey," said Kirishima, appearing from his left, a small notebook in his hands. Once again, too casual, too close, too soon. "Sorry, that took a while. What would you like me to bring you?"

Bakugou stared at his face, silent for a few moments, still trapped somewhere between his the place built by his words and where his body was actually placed. It was a weird feeling, not bad exactly, just difficult to describe. When he managed to answer, Kirishima was already looking at him with something close to concern in those red eyes of his.

"I don't care," he said and, despite the harsh wording, his tone was soft, as if he breathed the words out, not said them.

It was unusual, wasn't it? To answer something like that. Kirishima didn't seem to mind this either.

"Oh. Do you need more time or do you want me to recommend something?"

How could he be so patient?

"I'm not sure I trust your taste," replied Bakugou, not intending to be rude, but stating something he felt the need to let out.

"Don't worry, dude. I've got you," said Kirishima cheerily, closing the notebook and throwing it in one of his back pockets. "I'm assuming you're not into the whole extra-cream-extra-sweet thing, so maybe you'd like Jirou's orange espresso. Or her chocolate ones. Or the ones with a bit of caramel in the mix. Your call."

Who the fuck is Jirou?  

"They all sound terrible. What do you make? Or are you here just as some sort of mascot?"

"I make the tea. The manager doesn't really let me try more than that after last week's accident."

Did he even want to know about the incident? Probably not. Tea definitely didn't sound too bad compared to the other drinks.

"If I order one would you let me be?" he asked, wanting to be left alone. He had things to do and didn't have the time to chat with strangers.

And Kirishima... He... He had the fucking audacity to wink at him.

"We'll see."

Why wasn't Kirishima acting like a stranger towards him? It was weird for so many reasons. All those jokes and interest were happening too suddenly and Bakugou wasn't able to catch up with all of it. Was he acting like this with all customers or did it happen to be Bakugou's (un)lucky day?

Bakugou followed him with his eyes for a while, craving the answer to this question. Kirishima did talk a lot and whenever he approached a table, his smile grew wider and, in the back of his mind, Bakugou kind of wanted to touch his face and see if it was real or not. It looked real and, when Kirishima did it in front of him, it kind of felt real as well.

In all honesty, if Bakugou could admit something out loud, it was that he was selfish enough to want the smiles Kirishima gave him to be different than the rest. All those people, they had friends and family smiling at them like that every day. Bakugou didn't. He never thought he would want it, but he did. He really did.

People were scared of him or, at best, their smiles were mostly teasing, born out of boredom. He didn't fucking need teasing or anything as shallow as that. He wanted something truthful. Something real.

Bakugou didn't touch the paper. Didn't write a damn word. Just kept looking from the corner he was seated in, eyes widening whenever he saw Kirishima glance his way. It wasn't as rare as he would've expected but definitely not as much as his ego needed.

Sadly, it wasn't just Bakugou who craved his attention. Two cats were playing between his legs, purring and placing their tiny paws on his dark jeans, doing everything in their power to make Kirishima give them a few seconds of his time. He did it with the widest grin on his face, stopping mid-sentence during his conversation with a customer, and picked them up both, placing their cute fluffy heads on his chest as his arms carried them without a problem.

The contrast between the solid muscle and the gentleness of the gesture made Bakugou want to bark at the scene.

He wasn't jealous of a cat. He wasn't. That would've been idiotic.

"So..." started a feminine voice, interrupting his line of thought. "Do you want the tea now or should I come back later, once you're done trying to skin Kirishima alive with your eyes?"

It was the girl from before, the one with the short pixie-cut and headphones. Her tone had been a mix between monotonous and amused, her mouth forced into a straight line and her eyes full of mischief. Bakugou didn't know her and definitely didn't want to, but he sure as hell wasn't going to stay silent at her accusation.

"What's your problem?"

"I've been standing here for a full minute trying to figure out how to serve the tea Kirishima made for you, but you were too busy making lovey-dovey eyes at him to notice." Before he could explode, she kept talking. "Do you want it or not."

"Of course I do." he raged, taking the cup out of her hands. Which might've not been the most polite or normal move, he could give her that, but it was too late to excuse his sudden action. "And I never make that lovey-dovey shit. What the hell?"

Her nose made one of those movements - getting all wrinkly on one side in a judgemental way - and she stared at him flatly as she spoke again.

"You're quite the poet, aren't you?"

"And you're quite a bitch."

(The comeback of the century, wasn't it?)

She rolled her eyes so hard it must've hurt. "I have no idea why I expected Kirishima to be attracted to someone normal this time," she said to no-one. She threw him another short glance. "Definitely not the case."

That was the moment in which Bakugou would've probably cracked her skull open. Fictionally, obviously, he wasn't a barbarian. He didn't, however, because he kept replaying the first half of her words.

It must've shown on his face because she snorted and said: "You can't possibly be that blind."

Despite the insult, he couldn't really comment on it. Not when his brain was suddenly working like a maniac, trying to see what kind of gestures could've given the girl that impression.

Had it been the touching or the familiarity in his way of talking? Or maybe the wink, that one definitely seemed out of place, considering the fact that they've just met. It was difficult to tell.

"So, jerkface," the girl addressed him again. "Do you want his number or not?"

He could've said no without missing a single beat. His hesitation to do so was speaking volumes. He wasn't thinking about any storyline or character or action-packed scene full of blood and gore, no. Instead, he kept looking less and less discretely at Kirishima, his eyes tracing those impressive arms and back that simply seemed to jump out of that stupid shirt, only to go back to his contagious smile. If it hadn't been to that smile, Bakugou was sure he would've been outside long before the girl opened her mouth. Or he would've scoffed and mumbled a short 'fuck no', before ignoring her. But, as the situation stood, he couldn't say that he was against the idea.

Bakugou hadn't been honest with himself earlier when he insisted on being left alone. The guy intrigued him. His brightness - God, it sounded so idiotic to call it that - was something he couldn't comprehend. He wanted to know more. Wanted to understand how it worked and how he could smile so much and be so open, even to people he did not know.

The girl gave him all the time in the world to make up his mind, not rushing him in the slightest. Secretly, he was thankful for that.

He moved his head to the side, seeing another one of those furry creatures blinking repeatedly as if trying hard not accommodate their eyes to the light. Served them right for sleeping so much. Brats.

As if possessed by something, Bakugou found himself almost smiling at the image. Somehow, the stillness of the cat calmed him. It was weird, he knew.

It's just a number, anyway. It's not like I have to call the guy.  

(Yeah, he probably wouldn't call. But messaging was another thing entirely.)

He raised his chin towards the girl and, with a new and probably strangely placed determination, he said: "Give it to me."

She did. After a few threats, of course, but who was Bakugou to listen when he had so many other things to focus on? (Apparently, she also mentioned some sort of entrance fee that Kirishima forgot to tell him about or ask for, which was outrageous. Bakugou thought he heard the price and he really wished he hadn't. Thank fuck he had only ordered some pitiful tea. His wallet wouldn't have been able to cover anything else.)

The girl left his table soon after that. Bakugou didn't hesitate. He drank the tea as if it was a shot of tequila, not a mix of hot water and leaves, and threw the amount of money he owed Kirishima on the table, as he sat up. Didn't wait for Kirishima to approach him again and collected his things in silence.

He noticed those red eyes follow his movements and he stared right back at him, this time without any hesitation. His steps were loud and firmly placed on the ground as he moved towards Kirishima. When he got close enough, he stopped for a second, barely enough to say a sentence.

"You'd better check your phone, asshole." No smirk was added at the end of it. No smile or anything else. He said it bluntly, in the most serious way he could muster.

Because if he was going to do this, it had to be a serious matter. He didn't do flings. He didn't do relationships either and, if it, by any chance, was going to end up in that direction, it had to start the right way.

Kirishima's face stayed blank for a few moments, probably taken aback by Bakugou's sudden change of attitude. Or by how cryptic his words were when thrown in his face like that. It didn't take long, though, and his face erupted in one of the most blinding smiles Bakugou had ever seen. So fucking bright it could've probably made any lamp feel incredibly useless.

"Sure thing, man," he said, his voice rich and full of life. He patted Bakugou on the shoulder twice, the strength of his arm easy to remark without it being too much for Bakugou to handle. He quite liked having that kind of weight on his, pressed on his skin.

Their eyes stayed connected for a bit longer, a few seconds at most, before both of them moved away, Kirishima turning his body halfway towards the customers he's been talking to before Bakugou interrupted him, and Bakugou continuing his walk out the door.

Nothing stopped him this time.

He glanced at the door before he let go of it, seeing Kirishima's vibrant hair colour even though the dirty mirror, the sound of it closing being louder than he anticipated.

He stayed there for a bit, right in front of the coffee shop, blocking the entrance, his phone still in his hand, the contact list visible to anyone who passed by him. And there, right in the middle of the pace, two centimeters away from his thumb, stood Kirishima's name.

Well, not actually his name, but a nickname Bakugou saw fit. 'Shitty hair' - what a horrible nickname. But Bakugou liked it.

Despite everything that happened that day, the stupid nickname did it. It made him smile. Properly. So brutally genuine it should've made him sick.

As he moved his thumb across the screen, he realized something. He didn't regret going inside that coffee shop. At all. Not even 0.001% of him.

He tossed the phone back in his pocket and started to use his feet. The laptop on his back was heavy enough to be a constant reminder of the reason why he left the house, but Bakugou didn't feel like writing anymore.

He wasn't in the mood to murder anyone at that moment. Just wanted to go home, throw himself on the bed and shout at Todoroki to get the fuck out of his room so he could text Kirishima without any distractions.

He liked this plan. He really, really liked this plan

[softboyholland]

so I know you haven’t written for miraculous ladybug for a long time but how do you think a spideychelle au would be like with them. At school Michelle pines over an oblivious Peter but on the streets she finds Spider-Man like every other inconvenience in her life that keeps her away from saving the city. Reluctantly she works w him despite his terrible one-liners. Lots of love xxxxxx :)

i’ve never actually written for miraculous ladybug before, i don’t even watch the show but i know i’ve reblogged a couple of gifsets and fanart of the main ship so maybe that’s where you got that from. anyway, this is a great prompt and i’ll try to write it as best as i can with what you’ve given me!

in a world where new york has two teenage superheroes,

one who climbs walls and shoots webs and pokes fun at the bad guys, and works around queens and calls himself spider-man

another one who’s agile and quick and an expert at hand-to-hand combat, blink and you’ll miss her because she blends right in, one who parades around brooklyn in a halloween cat costume and insists that she’s the patriarchy punisher even though everyone calls her catgirl

they both have secret identities that no one knows of,

and they’re both not exactly fond of each other

who would’ve thought?

michelle jones who has an enormous infatuation with peter parker, hated his alter ego before her crush on him even began

it all started when michelle saw a couple of guys following a girl down the street

so she put on her suit, steeled herself and stopped them from doing whatever they were going to do to her as they cornered her in an alley

she knocked out two guys and was telling the victim, the girl, to run

to get the hell out of there

however, michelle didn’t notice the last crook reaching out for her, almost hungrily

peter, or well, spider-man, did notice 

he swung into the scene with a, “oh no, you don’t!’

he shot a web at the guy’s shoulder and knocked him against the brick wall

catgirl, turned around, “thank you, tarantula, but i had that.”

“actually, it’s-”

“yeah, i know what it is.”

and she climbed onto a nearby roof and snuck away without another word

you could only imagine michelle’s surprise the next morning, when her alter ego had made the front page of the newspapers

there were two pictures; one was of her sneaking into the night, and another was of a handwritten note from spider-man which said ‘this couple of bad guys were following a girl. - from your superheroes, spider-man and catgirl.’

and that was that

because from then on, everyone started calling her catgirl, which she was NOT, she was the patriarchy punisher!

and she would tell them that, but of course, no one listened

back at school though, her classmates, especially the girls, were obsessed with catgirl.

the hype for spider-man had gone down and michelle had smirked at that

even midtown’s resident nerd duo, were gushing over her from across the table in whispers

“could you keep it down, nerds? i’m trying to read here.”

“right, sorry, mj.” 

they were terrified of her and that entertained her 

and well, about her crush on peter parker, she had tried to fight it, she really did

but liz had to go and make her captain and that meant spending more time telling peter to get his grades up and to stop being a flake and that lead to her tutoring peter for english lit every wednesday after school 

and well, feelings

but whatever

she knew that peter wasn’t into her

he had a type and his type was girls like liz, and gwen stacy and well, just Not Her

but they were pretty decent friends, they weren’t as close as she was with ned, or as he was with ned but they were ok

anyway, back to the catgirl vs spider-man dilemma

so anyway, spider-man isn’t really,,,,fond of her because when everyone started calling her catgirl, she started patrolling around queens more

and that meant that peter was always five seconds too late

she would get to the criminals first and smirk at spider-man

so one day, as she was trying out her brand new suit which was basically a skin-tight black suit that made her even more invisible with her regular ol black combat boots

spider-man cornered her

“listen, lady, you gotta stop.”

“stop what?”

spider-man paused but then shook his head, “you’ve been taking all my bad guys.”

“well, that’s what you get for making the whole of new york city call me catgirl!”

“you didn’t tell me your name!”

“but you just had to add me to the note, didn’t ya?”

“ok, i don’t like you as much as i did when i first met you.” spider-man blurts and michelle smirks

she wears makeup under the cat (shut up, it’s not a cat, she’s still figuring it out) mask, so that she’s unnoticable

and spider-man nearly DIES when her red-painted lips smirk

“so, you liked me?”

“that is HARDLY the point here.”

and something about the suit gives her confidence so she steps closer as seductively as she can, “and what is the point, spider-man?”

she’s never called him that before

it’s always taunting and teasing and nicknames and anything BUT spider-man and now he’s frozen

she laughs and leaves him frozen on the rooftop

“men.”

and how ironic is it that the next day in school, peter is the one who leaves her frozen

he catches her staring at him in pe and ned says something stupid to her with a smirk on his face but she isn’t paying attention because her whole mind is screaming “ABORT MISSION” and peter’s holding her gaze and for the first time, she’s the one to look away

OH MY GOD

and she avoids them for the next two days out of embarassment and ned texts her to come over to his house for movie night

and she does, only to find out that the address is actually to peter’s apartment and it’s movie night with peter, ned and mj!

wonderful

of course, halfway through the movie when it all seems like it’s going well, peter flexes more than he should to grab the mug thats in front of her

she looks at ned, who looks like he might burst from holding in his giggles and then peter’s bringing his bicep right up to her face and flexing it

she pushes it away and uses the pillow to cover her eyes, lying down on the couch with her legs in peter’s lap, “you’re never letting me live that down, are you?”

then, peter’s the one to start giggling and michelle thinks she’s never seen something melt her heart so fast so she throws a pillow at peter, her eyes still shut and she says, “i hate you both.”

and peter, ned, and mj become closer and soon, movie nights are a thing and eventually, ned learns that mj’s crush on peter is pretty legit and he tries to wingman as best as he can

meanwhile, mj has gained an unlikely partner during her after school activities

she seems to bump heads with spider-man everytime she’s got a solid crime to go after 

and reluctantly, they learn to work together

and well, he’s not all that bad but he’s so irritatingly c o c k y, and so flirty and he just reminds her of a less charming, more irritating flynn rider

of course, he still has unbelievably lame puns and one-liners that make her want to rip her hair out but her favourite part of it all is watching him get flustered every time she does so much as suggest something flirty or make an innuendo

there was that time when they were in the middle of arguing as they were tying/webbing up the bad guys and he had accidentally webbed her wrist to a wall and she had smirked, “kinky.”

he had gotten flustered but then she threatened to destroy his web shooters with her bare hands if he didnt get her out of them immediately

and that was basically it

she went to school, sat with peter and ned, obsessed a little over peter, corrected mr cobwell whenever his history was wrong, had decathlon practice, rolled her eyes at flash, went home, did her homework, changed into her suit and gone out, flirted with spider-man, threatened spider-man

and that was her whole day

and everything seemed fine until one day ned exclaimed, “i can’t take this anymore! mj, peter has a crush on someone else. like a major crush.”

mj’s whole body had deflated but she pretended like she didn’t care because peter would never actually Like her and she always knew that

“who does he like?”

“he uh, he has a crush on a superhero,”

“ned, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“no, but it’s like a serious crush, and he’s met her before because of the stark internship and they know each other pretty well.”

“well,” michelle crossed her arms, “i don’t care.”

“yeah you do.”

“fine, who is it?”

“it’s catgirl.”

and-

and well.

michelle’s first instinct was to correct ned, say that she was actually called the patriarchy punisher.

and then, it hit her.

and oh boy, did it hit her.

because her co-worker, the boy she’s been flirting and teasing and also irritating to no end, was the same boy she was hopelessly crushing on.

[multifandomimaginethings]

“Halloween” Stiles Stilinski Imagine

“Ugh why did they have to make her hair so complicated.” You whine as you keep pausing and unpausing  the hair tutorial playing on your computer.

“Just make sure it looks perfect, we need to make these outfits look legit.” The voice replies through the phone speaker.

“Stiles, your lucky I’m even doing this, do not test me.” You warn.

“I’m just saying this has to be the best Halloween ever and because you love me and would- Ok I can sense your death stare through the phone I’m going to stop talking.” He rushes out, god this boy talks fast.

“Good idea.” You laugh.

“So your coming to my shmmmhshsh?” You say as you place a bobby pin between your teeth as you try to roll the plait in circles.

“I got none of that.” Stiles stated and you groan and reluctantly take the pin out of your mouth and let your hair drop.

“I said, your coming to my house at eight right?” You ask.

“Oh yeah eight, yep.” He confirms.

“Ok babe I’m gonna go.” You say. “Ok, I’m serious I can not wait I have been counting down the days and you are going to look so-” He rambles. “Stiles!” You laugh. “Yeah?” “I love you and goodbye.” You giggle. “I love you too but-” You hang up on him and shake your head as you continue to try and get your hair to stay in position. Oh god how did I let myself get talked into this.

“Ok I have an idea what we can go as!” Stiles says excitedly as he types quickly into google imagines.

“Oh god what?” You ask. “Batman and Robin! Obviously I would be Batman-”

“Your kidding right? First off I am not going as a dude and secondly and most importantly I am not going as a side kick! I’m way above that babe.” You argue flopping down on his bed. “You’ve got a point, ok what about..” He says deep in thought as he sits down next to me. “I know! Han Solo and Princess Leia, you can wear that really hot gold bikini- ow!” He yells as you smack him around the head.

“Alright I deserved that.” He admits rubbing his head.

“Ok what about, oh I know!” He says then his eyes widen as a light bulb goes off.

He rushes over to his closet and fumbles around with his back to me.  He turns around with a Darth Vader mask on. “Luke I am your father.” He says in a deep voice causing me to giggle. “That’s cute but no.” You say seriously. He quickly rips off the mask chucking it somewhere, “Luke, your father I am?” He says desperately. “You are not going as Yoda, Stiles.” I giggle and he moans in annoyance and flops down next to me.

He keeps listing ideas off and I continue to say no as I fall back onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling declining all of them. “Ok what about Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia?” He asks as I feel the bed dip and I feel his body heat as he lies down next to me. “No, they’re brother and sister and we are dating, true they didn’t know they were twins when they kissed but it’s still really weird and I could not bring myself to kiss you in those costumes.” You sigh.

You feel Stiles turn his body on his side to face you and you glance over to see him smiling at you. “What?” You ask turning to face him. “Nothing it’s just your so hot when you talk nerd to me.” He smirks. You giggle and lean over gently placing a kiss on his mouth. You shuffle over so your resting your head on his chest and he happily snakes his arm around you bringing your leg over his so your bodies become entangled.

“You created this nerd.” You joke as you gently trace the lines of his plaid shirt. “I know.” He says smugly.

“Look can’t we just, go as Mario and Princess Peach or something?” You ask biting your lip to resist from smiling to spoil the joke. You look up to see him death staring you. “Are you freaking joking? Please tell me your joking or I swear-” “Relax babe, I was kidding.” You laugh as he rolls his eyes and lets his head rest back on the pillow.

“Ok I will go as Princess Leia but-” You say giving him a pointed look as his eyes light up. “Only if I wear the white dress.” You say and he grins. “Deal babe.” He smirks bringing your head up for another kiss.

You sigh adjusting your hair one more time as you look in the mirror. Yep definitely needs another coat of hairspray. You grab the can and apply as much as you can before your eyes start to water. You spin around in the mirror picking at the white material, you stumble around and groan. You could barely walk in these ridiculously high boots.

You hear the doorbell ring and you grin. You slowly make your way down the stairs gripping onto the railing. You call out a good bye to your parents and you swing open the door and immediately let out a snort of laughter at Stiles. God he was a dork. His eyes widen at the sight of you and his jaw literally drops.

“Holy shit you look- I mean you look- like really hot.” He admits causing you to go a crimson red. “That was definitely not in the movie.” He says referring to the slit in your dress exposing your skin right up to your middle left thigh leaving your knee high boot on display. “I know I’m sorry, but this was the only one they had-” “Are you kidding, do not apologize you look amazing.” He breathes.

“Why thank you Mr Solo, you don’t look to bad yourself.” You smirk. “Your majesty.” He bows jokingly. “Would such a beautiful princess like yourself do me the honor of escorting me around the streets as we knock on doors for candy?” He asks extending his arm for you to loop your arm through.

“Well since Chewbaccas not here I guess you’ll have to do.” You tease sliding your arm through his as you walk out of your front yard. “Ah yes Chewie my faithful companion…” He begins causing you to giggle.

You had been out for an hour now and so far it had been way more fun than expected. Even though most of the people out where like half your age you and Stiles didn’t mind. He kept asking you if you wanted to bail and head to Lydia’s annual Halloween party but you insisted you didn’t care, you would rather watch Stiles act like an adorable child than be pressed against sweaty bodies for hours.  

“Stiles!” You say pulling on his sleeve. “What.” He says looking back at where you were staring. Once he spots what you were indicating, you both look at each other smirking and nod together. “He’s home alone, Melissa is out on a shift and he told me he was going to study instead of going to the party.” Stiles adds as you both speed walk towards Scott’s house.

You grab his hand in yours and ring the door bell rocking on the balls of your feet as you hear his footsteps running down the stairs.

“I’m sorry I’m out of-”

“Trick or Treat!” You and Stiles both scream causing him to jump.

“Jesus Christ, *yn*, stiles? What the hell are you guys doing?” He asks his face full of pure confusion. “It’s Halloween.” Stiles states. “Duh.” You add.

“Yeah but why aren’t you at Lydia’s party, oh yeah ok just.. come on in.” He continues as Stiles leads you past Scott as he continues to ramble.

“We went trick or treating.” Stiles grins stopping once he’s insider and swiveling around. “Thoughts?” He asks gesturing at our costumes.

“Uh, good….” Scott trails off.

“You don’t know who we are do you?” Stiles questions.

“Yeah of course I do! Uh you guys are from um Star… Trek?” He winces and I internally cringe. Bad mistake.  “Star Trek, S-star Trek.” Stiles says letting out a loud harsh laugh.

“Oh god here we go.” You mumble  rubbing your temples.

“It’s Star Wars man! Oh my god how many have I told you to watch those movies! They are pure freaking art Scott!  It’s literally a blessing to sit and watch those movies! Jesus what’s next, you’ll be telling me Anakin and Luke are brothers? Or the correct chronological order is movies one, two, three, four, five, six and not four, five, six, one, two, three?” He says forcing out another bound of stressful laughs.

“Why wouldn’t it be one, two, three, four, five, six?” Scott asks glancing at me. Oh those adorable brown eyes aren’t going to save you this time Scotty.

“Oh god it hurts, it physically hurts.” Stiles says dramatically as he clutches at his heart.

“Stiles don’t you think your being a tiny bit over dramatic, I mean they’re just some stupid movies.” Scott says attempting to lighten the mood.

“Oh you’ve really done it now Scotty.” I sigh shaking my head as I watch Stiles turn slowly to Scott. “S-stupid movies? Stupid movies! That’s funny Scott, hilarious.” He says. “Quick question, will it still be as funny after I beat you over the head with this a couple hundred times?” Stiles asks as he pulls out his fake light saber. Oh god.

Stiles begins to run at Scott and I shove myself infront of him. “Stop!” You yell. You were about to get up both of them when an idea came to you. Probably your best one yet. One that definitely benefited you.

“I have an idea how we can settle this.” You smirk.

“Wait so what are we doing again?” Scott asks as he watches you move the coffee table out of the way. “Simple. You and Stiles are going to have a duel.” I say grabbing Stiles’s light saber from him and mine out of its holder on my hip. “Now who wants-” “I shots blue.” Stiles calls snatching it out of my hand causing me to roll my eyes.

“Ok,” I say as I sit down on the couch, a perfect seat to witness the entertainment. “If Scott wins he gets all the candy we collected tonight.” I say pointing out our two over flowing bags as they both stand on either sides of the carpet. “What do I get if I win?” Stiles asks. “Me.” You smirk sending him a playful wink. I watch him as the grip on his light saber tightens, now he had something to fight for. “How do you determine who wins?” Scott asks. “When the other one surrenders.” You say in a mock evil tone drumming your fingers together, Stiles had rubbed off on you way too much.

“And remember Scott no wolf powers.” You warn and he sighs and nods.

“Ok, let the duel begin!” You yell.

For a while both fidgeted, slowly edging towards eachother. Stiles was the first to launch at Scott, out of nowhere he wacks him on the arm. And then chaos ins-sued. Both boys were stumbling around just barely missing things, it was a miracle nothing was broken. Every now and then one would get a good wack in but it was pretty evenly matched. And it was the most entertaining thing you had ever seen. You were in complete stitches as you watched the two idiots dodge each other and fumble around, of course you were filming all of it.

Eventually you noticed Stiles beginning to tire, and you knew Scott was always going to win. You really didn’t want him to, even though it was all in good fun you knew Stiles always felt so inadequate compared to Scott like ‘the sidekick’. You’d tried convincing him that he was the brains and was like the glue holding everyone together but he had trouble believing it. He needed to win this, and the only way that was going to happen was with your help.

You watch as the boys begin to walk towards you, Scott walking backwards with his back to you. Ever so slightly you subtly stick your boot covered foot behind his ankles and as he took a step he tripped over and landed on his back. Stiles yells in triumph as he knocks his light saber out of his hands and points his own at Scott’s face. “I surrender!” Scott laughs putting his hands up.

You giggle as you watch Stiles face light up in pure joy, how is it possible to be so hot and cute at the same time? You march up to him and grab his face roughly kissing him. You hear his light saber drop to the ground, as he begins to react wrapping his arms around you.

You pull away breathless and he eventually opens his eyes in shock.

“What was that for?” He asks in confusion.

“Well my daring rescuer had to be rewarded.” You smirk and his face lit up in a goofy smile.

“I did what I had to do Princess.” He jokes causing you to giggle.

“Oh Han, kiss me, please kiss me!” You fake gasp dramatically placing your hand on your forehead like in the movies. “With pleasure.” He smirks pulling you closer to him and smashing his lips to yours. You run your hands through his hair as you deepen the kiss, ignoring Scott’s awkward cough.

“Well I’m going to go and get some water.” He mumbles.

You moan lightly as Stiles squeezes your sides gently, as he bites down on your lower lip as you get more and more into the kiss.

“Oh my god you guys are still making out seriously! No get out! Stiles go fulfill your weird Star Wars kink, freaking fantasy shit somewhere else!” You hear Scott groan. Stiles breaks away from the kiss only to scoop you up bridal style causing you to squeal.

“Of course Scott, we’ll just vacate to your front porch and continue to make out there.” He says sending you a wink before carrying you towards the door, the candy and light sabers forgotten. “That’s not what I meant can’t you guys just- And your making out again.” He sighs as he stops at his front door to see Stiles seated on his deck chair with you on his lap kissing.

“Alright I give up, happy Halloween you freaks.” He sighs shutting the door behind him.

Stiles pulls away from your mouth and you whine in annoyance trying to pull his head back down again. “You know I was thinking for next year we could dress up as-”

“Oh my god shut up and kiss me you dork.” You giggle cutting him off and pressing your lips to his again.

Best. Halloween. Ever.

[teddyryker-blog]

a very teddy christmas || pt. 4

December 27th Teddy makes bad questionable choices.

“Are you gonna call her?”

Teddy took the letter back from Jewel and shrugged as best he could when he was lying down, looking the letter over for maybe the 80th time before turning and leaning back over the bed to stuff it back in the back pocket of his jeans. When he turned back over, he nudged closer to Jewel so the other could continue tracing the birthmark on his thigh, as he had been before Teddy brought up the topic of the letter.

“I don’t even know if it’s legit,” Teddy said, “might just be my dad…testing my loyalty or something.” Jewel made a dubious noise then grinned when his hand ventured higher than intended and Teddy jumped, trying to hide his own grin behind a false scowl. They were absolutely not meant to be doing this, Teddy had been thinking that since he bumped into Jewel in the street, since they started talking, since he accepted the invitation to go to Jewel’s apartment, since they kissed and got out of their clothes and…well, so on and so forth. It wasn’t planned, neither of them were deliberately trying to breach the agreement of exile from each other’s lives but it seemed to have just happened beyond their control. It’d always been like that, ever since they were teenagers and only friends but somehow ended up acting like lovers when they were alone – it was Teddy’s greatest secret, not even Mandy knew what he and Jewel got up to when no one else was around.

Teddy didn’t remember falling asleep but when he woke up the room was in complete darkness. He blinked awake and looked around the room, taking a minute to remember where he was and trying to stop his heart from sinking as he realised he’d have to come up with an excuse for being gone so long. He sighed, feeling a little defeated and annoyed with himself, and let his head fall back against the pillow as he stretched his legs out under the covers. He looked at Jewel, who was very much asleep, and pondered whether he should just leave now or wake him up first. Sleeping Jewel looked so different from Awake Jewel, he looked so much softer than the boy who always looked at people like he was saying ‘I know something you don’t know’. His blonde mop of hair was strewn all over his face, brushing over his equally blonde eyelashes and the splash of freckles on his nose. Teddy loved freckles, not on himself but definitely on Jewel and he stared at the dusting of them on his shoulders and his arms.

It was then he started noticing other things that he hadn’t before, scars that Teddy didn’t know the origin of and what he could only assume were track marks. There was a tattoo on Jewel’s ribs that looked like a dragon or a snake, it was much nicer than any of Teddy’s tattoos but he still didn’t care for it. Teddy reached over and flicked a light on, listening to the bed creak as Jewel was woken and turned onto his back to avoid the light. “What time is it?” Jewel asked without opening his eyes

“Late,” Teddy said as he reached for his jeans, “I should go, I’ve been gone too long.” He started to get out of bed when he heard Jewel make a noise of protest and felt the other’s hand ghost down his spine which made him pause.

“Stay,” Jewel murmured, sitting up, leaning over, and pressing his forehead to Teddy’s shoulder. “I can make it worth your while.”

“You already did – twice,” Teddy chuckled, looking at Jewel over his shoulder.

“Third time lucky.” Teddy sighed through his nose and for a moment he considered it, he could just let Jewel pull him back into bed and for a couple more hours he could forget about where he was meant to be and the kind of reception he’d receive when he eventually went back. However, Teddy’s phone buzzed with a text from Michael asking ‘where the mother fuck he was’ and he knew he didn’t have the option to stay.

“I can’t,” Teddy said regretfully and Jewel nodded. He understood, neither of them liked it but they couldn’t change the reality of their lives or their families. “I’ll call you later,” Teddy promised as he stood up and pulled on the rest of his clothes.

“No you won’t,” Jewel laughed, grinning at Teddy as he flopped back on the bed and Teddy grinned back. No, he wouldn’t but that wasn’t because he didn’t want to. Once he’d put his shoes on, Teddy checked he had everything then made for the door, making the choice not to say a ‘physical’ goodbye to Jewel because then he wouldn’t leave. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” he called.

The house was also in darkness when Teddy returned and he found it strange but convenient. He slipped in quietly, flinching at how loudly the door shut behind him. It was too quiet, if no one was home or awake then other people always were, his brother’s friends or people his father worked with. However, after the door shut and Teddy started up the stairs, a light flickered on upstairs and Teddy heard thundering footsteps that were fast enough and angry enough to convince Teddy he should make a b-line for the kitchen and run straight back out of the house through the backdoor. Teddy’s speed wasn’t enough of a match for his father though and as it was, Teddy found the backdoor locked when he reached it.

“You fucking brat.”

The sequence of events that followed happened so quickly that Teddy didn’t have enough time to process them. Something hard hit him on the back of the head and the force was enough to make him smash his forehead into the glass of the door; he heard the glass crack before he collapsed to the ground. His eyes felt like they were spinning inside his skull and he was vaguely aware of his sister screaming in the background – Stop! Stop! Stop! – as a hand snatched up a handful of Teddy’s hair and started dragging him across the kitchen floor by it. The pain was almost indescribable, Teddy didn’t have the mental capacity to scream so all he managed was loud, painful gasps as he clawed at the hand and tried to struggle free. As soon as he was let go, all Teddy could think was run and he tried to do just that, almost getting to his feet before he was kicked in the gut and he crumpled into a heap in the floor.

“Teddy, just stay down!” Mandy shouted. He looked for her but his eyes wouldn’t focus, everything was blurry, moving even though he wasn’t.

“Get her out – lock the door, Mike!” He recognised his father’s booming voice and froze, breathing hard as fear crept in because Teddy knew this wasn’t going anywhere good. The kitchen door slammed and Teddy could still hear Mandy shouting on the other side, trying to bash down the door to no avail. He’s never hit me before, was all Teddy could think and it was such a strange thought because he’d seen what his dad was capable before, he’d watched him force girls younger than Teddy into sex work and he’d watched him almost shoot Mandy in the head when she tried to get Teddy out of this very situation-

A hand seized Teddy’s throat and cut off his train as thought. He was roughly pinned to the ground, his windpipe constricted and panic raced through him. Teddy struggled, lashing out with his arms and legs but the harder he struggled, the tighter the hand around his neck became. He went slack, still trying to gasp for breath as he stared up at his dad who stared down at him. “You think I don’t know where you were?” Shame burned in Teddy’s chest because he’d known the entire time he was with Jewel that they were making a mistake and he’d let it happen anyway, he’d allowed himself to be selfish and this is where it’d gotten him. “You are a traitor, Teddy.” He pressed down on Teddy’s throat and Teddy used the last exhale of breath he could manage to let out a frightened, pained noise and he thrashed frantically, there was no air getting to him and his lungs started to burn.

“He’s had enough.” Teddy hadn’t even known Michael was in the room, he tried to turn his head towards him because Teddy had had enough, everything was starting to go fuzzy and dark at the edges of his vision and he was hurting so much his eyes watered relentlessly. “He’s…Dad, you’re killing him. You don’t want a body in here with the kids upstairs.” He didn’t let go until that second sentence and when he did, Teddy gasped louder than he had in his entire life and took in as much air as he could, like he’d been walking through a desert for months and just found water. Everything went quiet aside from Teddy’s gasping and his dad pacing about the kitchen, he daren’t move from the floor because he was so aware that his dad had essentially just tried to kill him and he didn’t want to do anything to invite a second attempt.

“I want him out of this house.” The kitchen door unlocked and Mandy rushed through, immediately at Teddy’s side and trying to help him up.

“What did he- Oh fuck, your neck,” she exclaimed. Teddy’s neck felt numb and swollen and it hurt to breathe still but none of it compared to how scared he was. Teddy had been scared lots of times and he knew his dad was someone to be weary of but there were few times before now where he’d been scared for his life. He’d fucked up, fucked up so badly that his dad had almost murdered him as a result and only hadn’t because there were children upstairs. In that moment, Teddy was very, very glad that those kids were there.

“It…was my fault,” Teddy managed to gasp out, his voice hoarse, and Mandy made a disapproving noise as she helped Teddy to his feet, supporting him until he could stand on his own. His next thought was of Jewel who was barely a couple of miles away, completely oblivious to everything that was happening and the distinct possibility that he could be in danger. Teddy’s dad knew they’d been together, maybe there was a chance they didn’t know what they were doing (lord, Teddy hoped he didn’t) but that didn’t change that they’d seen each other, spoken to each other, and gone somewhere together. His dad didn’t have any responsibility towards Jewel, he could kill him and not even think twice about it. “Jewel,” Teddy whispered to Mandy, his tone making it come out as a question.

“He’s safe,” Mandy assured him, speaking lowly, “but we need to go.” Teddy nodded, he couldn’t agree more and followed Mandy out of the house without looking back, keeping his eyes fixed to the ground until they were in the car. He was surprised when Mandy got into the driver’s seat and no one got in after them, Mandy hadn’t been allowed to go anywhere with Teddy without supervision since their great escape plan went awry. He understood why it was allowed now, his dad didn’t care anymore.

They drove to another part of town that was so quiet it seemed like they were leaving Oakland and it looked that way until Mandy pulled into a motel. “It’s just for now, until you go back to school probably,” she said, as if Teddy ever wanted to go back to that house again. It was nicer on the inside than it was on the outside thankfully, the paint peeling on the outside walls and a boarded-up window hadn’t looked promising but at least Teddy could say his room was clean and there wasn’t any blood or old socks in the bathroom. Mandy helped him check in, assured him that she’d be back tomorrow with some of his things, gave him some money so he could get himself a meal then left, probably sensing that all Teddy wanted right now was to be left alone.

In his room, Teddy sat silently on the bed and listened to the television in the next room as well as the people upstairs shuffling around. He’d wanted to be by myself but he’d never felt so lonely in his entire life than at that moment, he wished he’d just asked Mandy to take him to an airport so he could go back to Palmetto at once. There wasn’t much he could do now, he was in a fair bit of a pain and he was exhausted so he decided the best thing to do would be to get some sleep and maybe everything would be better tomorrow. Teddy checked his phone, he had a number of texts from Jewel, who’s number he still hadn’t saved, telling him he was alright which Teddy ignored. He stood up from his bed and heard a crinkle of paper, only then remembering the letter in his back pocket. Teddy unfolded it and stared at it, flipping it over and staring at the phone number. Whatever his mother was, whatever she’d done, she could not be as bad as his father.

Teddy dialled the number before he could change his mind.

The seconds waiting for someone to pick up, listening to the dial tone, were agony and Teddy found himself trembling, the hand that wasn’t holding his phone was curled anxiously into the bedsheets. Someone answered and Teddy froze, his mind going blank and he almost hung up.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice.

“I…is this Laura? It’s Te- Edward.”