#oh boy that is NOT EVEN REMOTELY CLOSE to my actual skills

[bunny--manders]

Getting to the point in my marketing career that my skill set is specialized enough that I keep ending up with bosses who don't actually understand what I do, but I'm still not being trusted to manage a marketing team. It's time to either work for a huge company with a real marketing department or hang up my own shingle as a consultant.

[lazycats-stuff]

Artist toddler batbro! Can't help but draw/ paint at least once a day and at the end of the day batfam is anticipating who will be the lucky family member that'll receive which ever art piece their youngest has created that day (sometimes the art piece is on the walls or floor of the mansion but no one has the heart to be angry when little batbro is just proudly presenting his art)

Toddler batbro *leaves a paint covered tiny handprint on the wall*

Bruce: alfred, frame that

Oh my, that's cute. Oh my God... Aww. Also, I know it's short, but this is all my inspiration is willing to give at this moment. Next time, I'll try to write more.

Summary: (Y/N) is an artist.

Warnings: None, really fluffy

Every child has a talent. Whether that be in sports or arts, every child has a hidden talent for something. Even if some kids are average, there is nothing wrong with it. Bruce, amongst his four older sons, had a toddler. Yes, a toddler.

How did it happen?

A one night stand. The mom couldn't take care of (Y/N) and Bruce took him in and the other 4 accepted (Y/N) as if he was their blood brother and Bruce was grateful that they did it. Of course, they had to change their schedules to accommodate to make sure that (Y/N) was a priority. Of course, no one minded to do that.

And speak of talents? While his four older sons had their own specialties. Damian had his knowledge of blades and martial arts, Tim for his hacking and detective skills, Jason for his accuracy with guns and other firearms and Dick with his acrobatic skills.

(Y/N) was an artistic child. He didn't show it at first, but as he got more comfortable, he started asking for paper and crayons. Crayons slowly evolved into something more and (Y/N) would draw daily. It could be anything. It could be a couch or even Titus. Maybe it would be one of the boys too.

And, at the moment, there was a big honor in the house. What that honor may be? (Y/N) handing you his own artwork. It became a tradition and sort of a competition between everyone. Everyone wanted to see what (Y/N) has created that day.

It was considered the biggest honor in the manor, to get a piece of paper, created by (Y/N). It makes everyone's day when they get an artwork. Dick nearly cried. Damian was close to crying too. Alfred and Bruce got one too and the two grown men, who have seen stuff... Safe to say, they nearly broke down into tears and shambles.

Nearly.

But there was a one problem in this entire story. (Y/N) wouldn't limit himself to drawing on paper. Oh no. Many parents would punish the child if the child drew on the walls or floor. Right? Well... Not if you are (Y/N) Wayne who is clearly artistically talented.

(Y/N) would often draw whenever he could, even if that meant on the wall or the floor. And whoever saw (Y/N) drawing on the floor or the wall, didn't have a heart to even yell or be remotely angry, especially since (Y/N) had that shine in his eyes when he was showing them their art.

Bruce wasn't supposed allow (Y/N) to paint over the walls or the floor. That's what Bruce was supposed to correct. A correct thing to do... Right? Well, Bruce didn't know. Parenting doesn't have a book and a set of rules, but Bruce wished he had some sort of rules so he could solve this.

He can keep on dreaming when it comes to universal rules for a perfect parenting style.

But he has actually decided what he was going to do, without a doubt. (Y/N) was allowed to doddle and draw wherever he wanted. That was something that was relayed to all the other members, whoever, they put certain restrictions.

No drawing in their rooms without supervision. Bruce's study was also off limits if there is no supervision. And only at home is doodling and drawing allowed.

Because Bruce is just ready to frame it all. Alfred already has frames ready to go.

It was always fun.

As of now, (Y/N) was doodling on the wall, just sitting on the floor, without a care in the world. Bruce and Alfred were walking by, stopping when they saw (Y/N) drawing. This time, it was just a simple handprint.

Bruce was smiling and instructed (Y/N) to go wash his hands and then eat. Bruce and Alfred looked at the handprint on the wall.

" Alfred, frame that. " Bruce said and Alfred did just that. Took out a frame and made sure that handprint was framed. And it looked adorable.

" He is growing up too quickly, Master Bruce. " Alfred said said as he looked at the little handprint.

" I agree Alfred. " Bruce said sadly.

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

P&C | Ch. 16: Peaches and Cream

➪ Playlist (Spotify) l Series Masterlist

December 7 

There it was, written in bright red letters with small hearts and doodles surrounding it, the special date. Jungkook's birthday. See, he is only a few months older than me, but apparently, that's enough of a motive for him to never shut up about it. Sure, he might be bigger, stronger and faster than me but at the end of the day, I got the brains and the beauty (not up for a debate, my mental health won't be able to handle it please). Back to what's important, see, Jungkook is not much of a surprise enthusiast, but sucks to suck because I am. So, naturally, I took it upon myself to plan a little party in celebration of his birth. Putting my acting skills to use, I tried to be as nonchalant about it as possible the whole of last week. Anytime someone mentioned something even remotely close to birthdays, the subject of the conversation would diverge immediately by my sympathetic nervous system. It's nothing too big, just our friend group and a few of his Kinesiology friends. Still, I want this to be special. For him. 

Jungkook: I think you should come over ;) 

Mira: A dick appointment already? 

Jungkook: I don’t know, can you handle it? 

Mira: I mean, 3 inches should be fine, right? 

Jungkook: … ha ha … very funny. I’ll remember this when I finally get to have you. 

Mira: Who said, you’ll ever have me? 

I can’t help but smile at my screen, I mean it’s pathetic, really. The butterflies in my stomach are not helping the flush rising up my cheeks, as I play the video he sends. Oh God … I knew alcohol and I didn’t go well together but now that idea is solidified as a fact. Looking back at my dumbfounded face is none other than my drunk self from the Winter Formal. The clip is only 5 seconds, but the second-hand embarrassment is enough for me to essentially drink bleach and just cease to exist. 

Jungkook: You did. See. “Jungkook, I want youuu” 

Mira: Ok, so now I’m a victim of blackmail. Good to know. 

Jungkook: I’ll be expecting your cute self at my door in about an hour. 

Mira: Ok dad :( 

Finishing up my makeup I quickly grab my keys and make my way out the door before packing some snacks to go. The bus ride there is only 20 minutes but I fear that the noise my stomach makes from hunger might not be a crowd favourite. Unfortunately, though, I play the role of a broke college student just a bit too well, as two mandarins and some salt crackers end up being my only options. 

--

For it being December, the weather is surprisingly nice. Global warming is in its full effect, I guess. While the glaciers melt away, I get to wear cute fall outfits for another month. So, I stunt my leather knee-high boots, as I finally reach Jungkook’s apartment building. Jimin and him are roommates but both come from pretty financially comfortable families, so this isn’t your usual college student apartment but more like a bachelor studio. Fixing my curls, I tuck the striped sweater into my skirt before knocking on the door. Which opens almost immediately, as Jungkook’s eyes divert down to the boots. 

“Mira …” he says slowly, leaning on the door frame, as a small smirk forms. 

“What?” I snap back confused, nibbling on my lips. 

“You know this wasn't an actual dick appointment right?” he giggles, pulling me inside. 

“YAH, of course, I did,” I yelp, stumbling on my feet as Jungkook’s grip tightens on my waist. 

“Well, you’re looking a bit too good,” he whispers, our lips inches apart as his form moves closer, my back now pressed against the door. 

“Can’t handle it, pretty boy?” I whisper back, looking up at his darkened orbs. 

“Don’t do that,” 

“Do what?” 

“Don’t tease me,” Jungkook’s words slow and breathless as his forehead rests on mine, giving it a soft kiss. The gesture is sweet, but the heat between us is almost suffocating. That is until a familiar voice echoes in the background as the doorknob begins to open. 

“Oh my god!” I yelp, hiding behind Jungkook who was just as dumbfounded. 

“Oh, sorry, am I interrupting something?” Jimin chuckles, placing his bag on the table. 

“I thought you had practice?” Jungkook says abruptly, fixing his dishevelled hair. My face, now red, is virtually buried in his shirt as I try to regain my cool before Jimin calls my name. 

“Yeah, but it ended earlier. Mira? What are you doing here?” 

“Oh, I …” I stutter, replying with more of an expression than words. Jimin is not a threat but he also isn’t aware of whatever Jungkook and I are, so the truth would not be the most suitable answer just yet. Trying to pull something out of thin air, my distressed self is saved by the bell as Jungkook buds in. 

“She was going to help me study,” he says reassuringly before leading us both to the kitchen. I can feel Jungkook's hand on my back as Jimin lets out a big gasp. 

“Wow, so now you're a chef? Mira, I don't know what you're doing to him but please don't stop,” Jimin laughs, shaking his head at the plethora of dishes covering the dining table before diving right in. Sneaking a quick peek at Jungkook sitting across from me, his eyes patiently waiting for my reaction. I can't help but smile as I take a bite out of the steaming shrimp dumplings. My childhood favourite, might I add. 

“Do you like it?” he gently asks, doe eyes sparkling under the kitchen lights. His full attention was on me, so much so that he barely even flinched when Jimin choked on a shrimp tail. 

“I love it,” I reply with a soft smile, giving him a flying chef's kiss. He giggles, finally allowing his body to relax before leaning back on the chair with a proud smile. 

-- 

After cleaning up the table, Jungkook and I decided to go on a walk as Jimin passed out from a food coma with the TV on. Covering him with a blanket, Jungkook turns the system on before wrapping his arm around my shoulder as we head out. It seems that everyone is taking advantage of the warm weather as the beach is more populated than usual. Playing tag with their dad, children's laughter fills up the ambience as their mom takes pictures of the beautiful memories. 

“Do you want kids?” Jungkook suddenly asks, turning his gaze towards my unfazed self who was busy digging for seashells. To be honest, I didn't hear him properly and thought he was asking if I had fears. A miscommunication fiasco fueled by the playful laughter in the background and the fact that I'm half-deaf in my right ear. 

“Yeah, a lot,” I reply with a soft smile, eyes still glued on the mission below me. 

“A lot? Really?” he lets out a chuckle, hands now in his pockets as his body stands still. Feeling the intensity of his stare on me I look up confused, raising an eyebrow. 

“What? Don't tell me you don't,” 

“I mean yeah, but ultimately it would be my wife’s decision,” Jungkook replies softly, looking back at the peaceful beach horizon. 

“Huh? Your wife’s decision?” I repeat, the confusion forcing my attention back to him. What does he mean by his wife’s decision? Trying my hardest to decipher his answer, I begin reading between the lines, hoping to connect the dots between the undertones. Maybe, there’s some kind of metaphor tied into this?

“Yeah, I mean it’s not my body. I’m happy with anything as long as she is healthy and happy,” 

“Jungkook, what are you on?” I snap back, unable to hold back the laughter any longer. 

“What do you mean? You’re the one that wants a lot of kids,” he scoffs, poking the side of his cheek with his tongue. 

“PARDON?? When did I say that?” I yelp, arms now folded in disbelief. 

“I asked you if you wanted kids and you said yeah, a lot” 

“YAH, no I didn't. I thought you said, do you have a lot of fears!” I scoff back before slapping his forearm as his head jerks back from the laughter.

“Thank God, I really thought you were planning on raising a little army,” he smirks before pulling me into his embrace, hands tightening on my waist. As his gaze lowers to my lips, I can feel my cheeks getting red before my hands glide up to his neck. 

“I think I want 3, two boys and one girl,” I say softly, looking up at his darkened orbs. 

“A little princess,” he whispers, before placing a soft kiss on my forehead as I rest my head on his chest. Enjoying each other's warmth we stay like this for a bit longer, looking out at the beautiful sunset. It's times like these that I can't help but give in to my desires, wanting to mute that fear in the back of my head. Jungkook feels safe, I don't know how to explain it, but it's as if our souls mould into one. When I'm with him, everything just makes sense. 

As Tae lights up the last candle on the cake, everyone scatters to find a hiding spot per Jimin's command. Jungkook’s footsteps becoming more and more evident, there is a rising sense of suspense. No one dares to breathe until the doorknob is finally turned and the door swings open. 

“Surprise!!!” 

“FUCK! What the heck!” he shouts, stumbling back as his eyes widen in shock. Feeling everyone's attention on him, his ears begin to redden as Tae and I make our way towards him with the birthday cake. 

“Happy birthday Kookie, now please stop growing,” Tae teases with a boxy smile, putting the Birthday Boy hat on Jungkook who was still in disbelief. Patting his chest, Tae pulls him into a warm hug, as Jungkook’s attention diverts to me. Although no words were exchanged, one look at his furrowed eyebrows was enough for me to understand that he genuinely did not expect any of this. Mission accomplished! To be honest, I felt so bad for making it seem like his birthday was forgotten all these days leading up to the big surprise, that I’m simply relieved it's all over. Unable to hold back a smile, I wait by Jungkook’s side trying to keep the candles from going out, until his attention was back on me. 

“Make a wish, Birthday Boy,” I say softly, looking up at his sparkling eyes. Pulling me closer, Jungkook leans down, scrunching his nose before blowing out the candles as the crowd goes wild. Laughter fills the room once everyone joins in the living room decorated in everything Jungkook-related. From a life-size statue of Iron Man to an entire wall filled with special Polaroids of him and his friends, the Birthday Boy can't help but smile at the wholesome feeling. Holding back his tears as Jimin ushers him towards the couch, Jungkook gasps at the table full of gifts. 

“You guys, this is really too much. You didn’t have to …” he says before his speech was cut short by Jimin, who was already eyeing the bag placed on Jungkook's lap. Both he and Tae, who plopped himself front and center, seemed more curious about this whole unwrapping than Jungkook himself. Nonetheless, reaching his hand into the sparkly green bag, he pulls out a small box. 

“What is it?” Tae asks, moving closer to get a better look. Shaking his head Jungkook opens it, as both of them gasp at the silver Rolex watch staring back at them. 

“YAH, Jimin that’s not fair,” Tae whines, leaning his head back on the couch as Jungkook’s mouth drops. 

“Don’t say anything, you’re worth it,” Jimin winks, patting Jungkook’s head before leaning in for a hug. Despite Jungkook being the youngest in his friend group, it’s rare to see him act like one, so the sight is refreshing and heartwarming, to say the least. 

Making sure everyone was in the frame, I press the timer on the camera before running back to my spot which naturally was beside Jungkook. Looking up at him, his gaze was soft as I wrap my arm around his shoulders, feeling his hand on my waist as Jimin commands everyone to say ‘cheese’ before the flash went off.  

– 

“You know, today might have been my favorite day of the whole year,” Jungkook says softly before melting into the duvet. After saying goodbye to everyone, we cleaned up the place before helping Jimin pack for his camping trip with his teammates. He planned to depart right after the party in hopes of making it there early in the morning, and although I tried to change his mind he was determined. 

“Ok, I’m leaving now,” Jimin says, knocking on Jungkook’s bedroom door. Nodding, we walk him towards the entrance, as I pass him a bag of some leftovers. 

“Please be careful, it’s dark,” I say, as Jungkook leans on the door frame, eyes focused on my worried face.

“I’ll be fine, it’s only 6 hours. I’ll be back by Tuesday. Jungkook please don’t break anything,” Jimin exclaims, giving him a teasing smile as Jungkook rolls his eyes, nibbling on his lip ring. 

“Ha … ha.. call me when you get there,” he says, waving goodbye as he locks the door before turning towards me. 

“It’s late, do you want to stay over or do you want me to drop you off?”

“One more surprise,” I wink, pulling him towards the bedroom. As I place a red bag on his lap, Jungkook can’t help but bite down his lip, trying to suppress the evident excitement. 

“Miraya, you’ve already done so much,” he says softly, looking up at my focused expression before pulling out a film camera with an envelope attached to it. Fidgeting with the seal, Jungkook’s curiosity is on full blast as he moves the three polaroids closer to get a better look under the dim lights. 

“Oh my god …” he whispers, choking on his spit from the disbelief. Recognizing the red lingerie, he glances up for clarification until a gasp escapes his mouth at the sight before him. 

“Happy Birthday, Pretty boy,” I whisper, before moving closer to his dumbfounded self. Although still in shock, his body responds immediately, caressing the soft skin on my thighs before pulling me on his lap. 

“Mira …” he whispers, our lips inches away. Looking at his darkened orbs, I caress the side of his cheek before leaving a soft kiss. 

“You’ve been so patient, baby,” I say, straddling his thighs as he hisses at the sensitivity. Melting in my embrace, he is unable to hold back any longer, flipping us over, as his chains now dangle over my face. 

“Peaches, please let me have you,” he whispers into my ear, voice now breathless. Sucking on my neck, he leaves soft marks of desperate need and desire before looking back at my eyes. 

“Jungkook, I want you,” 

“Mira, I need you,”

As our bodies become one, Jungkook leaves a trail of soft kisses down my neck before reaching the soft material. 

“Wait here,” he says, almost sprinting towards the kitchen before coming back with a can of whipped cream that I used for his birthday cake. 

“Thank you for the meal,” he bows his head, before shaking the can. Unclasping my bra, he tosses it on the floor, taking a moment to fully appreciate the sight in front of him. 

“Stop staring,” I snap, hiding my face under the duvet, feeling the flush in my cheeks. 

“Hard not to when you look this good, Peaches” 

Inches away from my breasts, Jungkook draws small circles with the cream, as I hiss at the cold sensation. Arching my back, he sucks on the sweet taste of my nipples, as his hands caress the soft skin, before leaving a long trace of cream on my stomach. Each taste is followed by a sinful kiss, as purple hues paint my body.   

Previous l Next

[atlaskrr]

webtoons I've read recently that i enjoy!

I finally read our walk home! its rlly sweet and i cant wait for it to come off hiatus. i instantly got hooked by the characters. i like how its a they get eo thing and not an actual rivals to lovers thing. idk it feels more special. and the characters mentalities being explored is sooo good man. im also curious on the lot abt the angel and devil + akis brother. on a side note if i were either of them id fold so quickly cause why they both so pretty. their interactions are so cute man. its soft, genuine. i like it.

peace restaurant. love it. was reading it and i was like damn fknally something that gives me what yohaji did (tho not the same obvi) it is only starting on en ver (7 free chaps iirc) and i was so hooked i ended up reading all the kr released chaps on aggregator sites. im so confused and sad bcs it stopped at chap 28 back in nov 2023. still its really good. i love the dynamic between sua, belial and nhedhuk. they are so found fam to me. like nhedhuk is obvi the younger sibling and belial is her older brother. sua is their unconventional mom. speaking of belial his development was really nice. the way his fear was all the ppl he cared abt dying (INCLUDING SUA AND NHEDHUK) im scared abt whats gonna happen with him with how 28 ended off tho 😅 i think i have a thing for op female mcs (ty bofuri) and also this is why for one of the very few times the mc is my fav chara followed closely by the 2 deuteragonists. comedy that grows plot gotta be my new fav thing. in the beginning tho i love how every time you think smth serious will happen its just another gag. anws the whole dimension ordeal is also cool.

ok this thing had me clicking from its artstyle. i think yohaji made me a comedy person cause this is a comedy as well. i continued reading the few short chaps cause it was silly and sweet. this ghost truly is just a kind and pathetic thing. the fact shes mute is also really nice as the creator actually competed twice and placed in silent manga competitions (which were really good btw. go check out volpee). when the managers were introduced i thought plot was coming but nope! but also i was even more hooked cause the design for mr. h??? love. the vibes and style is immaculate. the ghost of cloth is also really silly and has a nice design lol. there was no ep last month but its back on now! oh yeah the toy ghost is really cool as well. somehow they can still make it expressive despite its still face. the whole remote control car situation had me cackling tho lmao.

OH MY GOD PROJECT CAMELLIA HAS LIKE 6 EPS AND ONE IS A AUTHORS NOTE THING BUT DO I CARE??? NO. the pretty boy cover enticed me and im so glad it did bcs it seems so promising. the author note had stuff about their process and the future and the way they thought it through, how the 2 mcs change eo and it shows PHYSICALLY. in love. the way they plan to change the main mc throughout the story has me scared and excited. it seems like they can handle chara development well which is something i value highly as i read for charas most of the time. the art style is also really nice. if you check out the creators insta you can really see how skilled they are like the art there looks majestic (theyre a danmei fan). apparently therell also be a yuri side couple 👀 basically, the future seems bright for this webtoon.

i hust finished catching up to the tl ver of the students of illip arts high cause the en is new to webtoon just like peace restaurant. i was hooked by the unique style used for the vr game and how so yi and han sol bonded and allat. their relationship is so ough to me. dakyung is also a fun chara and for seiun idk she seems kinda pretentious. i dont like how they dealt with eppys chara either. still its early on so even though the charas besides mc seem to not have as much impact as they could it has much room to grow.

[writteninkat]

Ridin' | Bakugou x Reader

summary: After finally learning how to trot, you decide to show-off your skills to Katsuki. You're happy your boyfriend is actually paying attention to what you're doing. Oh he's definitely paying attention, from the way you moved your hips to the way your bra gave absolutely no support to your bouncing tits.

f!reader

w/c: 3k

warnings: car sex, breeding

"I finally learned how to trot and I really wanna show off." You pout, hugging your boyfriend's arm as he keeps his eyes glued to the TV screen.

It's a cool sunny sunday morning, Katsuki doesn't have work, you don't have work, all the house chores are done and the both of you basically have a free day. Today was the perfect day to show off your equestrian skills to your boyfriend, except he had way different plans for this fine, relaxing day.

"I'm already half-way through the series." He sighs, pointing the remote at the TV to push the pause button. He looks over at you, a stupefied expression all over his face, turning your pout into a frown.

"Please? It'll be quick. I can show you my skills on the horse, then we'll have lunch and we'll come back home. Come on, babe. I spent months perfecting this skill." You move to sit yourself on his lap as you buried your face on the crook of his neck, your arms wrapped around his neck.

You hear a sigh before feeling his calloused hands squeeze your thighs. "Alright, but your skills better be good."

You giggle, kissing his cheek before sliding off of his lap. "I promise you, they're great. My teacher told me I might be an even better rider than her." You puff out your chest in pride before running over to your shared bedroom, immediately looking for your white shirt and jeans.

As you strip out of your house wear, Katsuki enters the same walk-in closet to change out of his usual black sleeveless top to a black shirt. "Babe have you seen any of my sports bras? I should have a dozen of them." You frown, looking through your dresser of underwear.

"Weren't you just complaining how we should have done our clothes two days ago so we wouldn't run out of clothes by the end of the week?"

Ah, of course.

You take the bra that you think can support your boobs the most and sigh. This'll hurt when you start trotting but you'd rather throat a cactus than rewear a used, day-old sportbra that has soaked dried-up sweat all over it.

The both of you quickly leave your penthouse and hop in Katsuki's custom-built Bugatti Divo with orange exterior details as wells as tiger orange car seats. You weren't going to lie, you did all you could to not ride in this bad boy.

Everytime you so much as looked at its interior your can remember one of the best and unforgettable car sex you've ever had. It was around the time the car was new and just arrived, as the two of you took it out for a spin, you ended up fucking inside it on a cliff with the beautiful view of the city lights at night.

"Hey." Katsuki places a hand on your thigh, "Something troubling that pretty little head of yours?" He squeezes your thighs softly and you breathe slowly, trying to calm yourself. If you were to have sex now, there was no 'horse show' happening.

You smile, shaking your head. "No, just excited to ride my baby Hades again."

Katsuki lets out a breathy chuckle, keeping his eyes on the road as he grips tightly on his steering wheel. "Looks like Hades is trying to rob my title of 'favorite male Y/n loves to ride.'."

You gasp, slapping at his arm as he lets out a loud laugh. "Stop that! You're tainting my baby Hades' name! He's only four years old, you know!" You pout, crossing your arms to the side as Katsuki parks near the gates of the ranch.

You quickly step out of the car, boots clacking as you put on your cowboy hat before closing the door. You feel Katsuki's arm snake around your waist protectively as eyes of multiple people are immediately pulled to the two of you; the pro hero couple that everyone knows as 'the hero couple'. Not only are the two of you frighteningly powerful as individuals, you two are also very in love.

"Hey, Y/n! You came back earlier than I expected!" Awase, the one who taught you equestrian for months, pulls you into a hug which you gladly take, hugging her back. "Oh! And it seems like you brought the boyfriend as well! Will he be signing up for classes?" She asks, holding your hands in hers as Katsuki gives her a acknowledging nod.

"No, I'll be showing off my newly learned skills to him." You show off a smug face to which she teases you for. "That's right, show off those new set of skills girly!" Awase cheers on, extending a hand at Katsuki. "Awase Kambo. You can call me Awase. Big fan of yours, Sir Dynamite." Katsuki gladly takes her hand, shaking it once before pulling away.

"Thanks for teaching my girlfriend here, I know she can be slow and a pain." This earns him a slap on his nape as you stomp towards where the stables are, quite irritated.

"Here, Y/n! I'll let you two use this field so the two of you can be away from all the eyes of the other customers." Awase leads you to a very wide and very empty yard. There's only an elevated stage with a roof and a few chairs and two medium-sized round tables. As you approach Hades, your beautiful black Thoroughbred horse standing at five feet and eight inches. He recognizes you almost immediately, nickering in excitement as you approach him, extending your hand for him to sniff before rubbing your palm on his muzzle before slowly transitioning to the side of his neck.

You step on the stirrup of the saddle, holding onto the horn before lifting yourself up with ease, throwing your leg to the other side of your pet's body before adjusting your self, holding onto his reins as you squeeze his sides, clicking your tongue, letting him walk.

"Alright, Hades. My boyfriend is up there and I wanna show off to him. Think you can help me with that, bud?" You lean into your horse, whispering at him. Hades neighs and you give him a soft pat on the side of his neck before squeezing his sides, allowing him to start trotting.

You start lifting yourself up along with the way his body pushes you up, your hips rising and falling doing wonders for Katsuki whose eyes are busy staring you up to even pay attention to your explanation.

The way you lifted your hips, the way your tits bounced with the loose support of your bra, and the way your sweat glistened under the sun and made your shirt stick to your skin- Katsuki had to bring you to his car or he was going to embarrass himself.

You rode Hades for at least half an hour, the horse sweating and panting along with yourself by the time you were finished. You ended your time with him by giving him a few carrots yourself and asking the stableman to reward Hades with two sugar cubes for a job well-done today before patting your pet goodbye.

"Well? What do you think of my equestrian skills? I'm amazing aren't I?" You puff out your chest smugly as you took off your cowboy hat, a few stray hairs falling down the side of your face as your once tied-back hair has now loosened quite a bit.

"You were amazing, baby. So amazing in fact that I got hungry while watching you. Can we go for lunch now?" Katsuki raised an eyebrow to which you rolled your eyes at. You quickly washed your hands with soap and water before drying them off and walking back to the car.

The drive out the ranch was pretty quiet and eerie. You were upset with how Katsuki seemed to care so little about something you were so proud of and Katsuki, well he was pressing too much on the accelerator that caused his car to reach speeds of over 100.

"Suki, slow down! You aren't that hungry for your stomach to start digesting itself so please stick to the speeds you usually drive to!" You grip on the seatbelt, your booted feet pressing against imaginary foot breaks. Honestly, learning how to drive and sitting on the front seat meant your feet pressed on the breaks instinctively. It's a very annoying habit.

Katsuki ignores you, driving past the square that had multiple fastfood restaurants. You furrow your brow, looking back at the place until it eventually disappeared from your line of sight.

"Katsuki what the fuck? Where are we going?" Your question goes ignored as well as he turns to a deserted and uncemented road, driving quite far from the main road before he steps on the breaks.

"Take off your boots." He says causing you to furrow your brows. "What-"

"Y/n /please/ listen to me right now and take off your boots."

Confused, you take off your boots silently before your boyfriend steps out of the car, your confusion growing even more as he rounds the front, opening the door of your side. He motions you to get out with his fingers and for a moment, you think he's going to ask you to drive with the way he sits on your seat, but instead he pulls you back in and closes the door beside you.

"Katsuki will you olease explain to me what you're doing?"

Katsuki looks up at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. "You had such impeccable form while riding Hades, baby." His large hands slowly ran down your sides, resting on your round ass that your jeans hugged a little bit too perfectly. "You two ran together so smoothly as if the two of you were water. The way this-" He squeezes your hips, "Rose and fell did wonders to me, babe. And just like you rode Hades," He pressed kisses on the side of your neck, inhaling your scent of cookie dough from your body wash, "You're gonna ride me."

His lips press against yours, your mind growing hazy at the searing kiss as you felt something poke your inner thigh. You furrow your brows, your hands slowly sliding down your boyfriend's chest and abs before your palms press against his hard-on.

Katsuki lets out a low grunt against the kiss, his hands pulling you even closer towards him as you began to tighten your grip around him, teasing him and pumping him over his sweatpants as he grew out of breath against the kiss.

"Fuck I love you so much." He murmurs, pressing lips against your skin as they skillfully locate your sweet spot, immediately sucking on it as soon as they find it. As your eyes roll back, Katsuki's hands busy themselves with pushing your shirt up and off you.

"These." He growls, skillfully undoing the bra with one hand, letting it fall in between the both of you as he takes one bud in your mouth as his hand gropes and kneads your other breast.

"The way they bounced while you ignorantly smiled at me." He laps up your bud in his tongue, smiling mischievously as he looks into your eyes with his brows playfully furrowed. "They better be bouncing the same way when you ride me."

He quickly undoes your pants, leaving hickeys all over the valley of your breasts and your chest, pulling your pants completely off, leaving you only in your panties.

Katsuki pushes a finger in between your lips and you suck on it quite religiously, allowing your boyfriend to add two more as you sloppily lap up his digits, wanting them to be wet enough for the next part. "You like sucking on my fingers so much?" He mutters, pulling his fingers out of your mouth, creating a bridge of saliva. He brings it down to your wet cunt, pushing your soaked panties to the side as he teases a finger against your soaked pussy.

"Which do you like sucking better? My fingers or my cock?" He creates teasing circles against your cunt, causing a soft moan to escape from your lips. As he pushes a finger in, you suck in a moan, burying your teeth on your lip as you moved to rock your hips.

"Answer me, you slut. Do you like my fingers or my cock better?"

"Mmmmfuck, just put it in already!" You whined, pulling at his wrist to force his thick finger into your walls. You moan in satisfaction, smiling as you rocked your hips, feeling Katsuki curl his finger inside you.

"You didn't answer my question." Katsuki whispers darkly into your ear, causing a ripple of shivers to run down your spine. "I asked you if you wanted my cock or my fingers better."

"Mmmmhhh" You giggle, "I want your cock, always." You hum, smiling as you feel him add another digit inside you. You let out a moan at the sudden tightness, Katsuki using his thimb to stimulate you by your clit more as you rocked your hips to get more friction.

"Really? Then you won't cum with my fingers only?" Hid question had you widening your eyes as he began to thrust his fingers inside you. You squeeze at his shoulders, feeling him stretching you open as he scissored his fingers inside you, preparing you for his cock.

He pushes his fingers deeper as your breaths become louder and more choked-up, his fingertips press against your g-spot as soon as he curls them inside you, your choked moans like music to his ears as you feel your orgasm quickly rush to you.

Katsuki presses his lips on yours once more, tongue exploring your wet cavern as it presses against your tongue. He roughly sucks on your lower lip, leaving a bite mark as you let out a soft moan, tingle spreading all throughout your body as your orgasm washes over you.

Katsuki pulls out his fingers, bringing his slick-covered fingers up his mouth to lap up your juices as he stares at you the entire time.

"Mmmm, you taste delicious as always, baby." He hums, pressing his lips on yours before lifting you by your hips easily, pushing his sweats down as he lets his member spring free. The head is already glistening with slick and as much as you want to lap it clean with your tongue, your space is constricted at the moment.

Katsuki aligns his cock against you entrance, a long, drawn-out moan slipping past his lips as you slowly lower yourself for him, your cunt greedily swallowing his cock.

The sting of the stretch gives you some sort of thrill, feeling the veins on his length has you rolling your eyes to the back of your head. "Oh fuck yeah baby." Katsuki breathes out, allowing you to sit on him for a few moments, just letting you get used to his size before you begin moving again.

You lift yourself up, quickly dropping yourself right after, earning a contented moan from your boyfriend. You press your lips on his, smiling before pulling away, humping his cock. Katsuki tightens his grip on your waist and instead of thrusting his hips, he decides to just help you ride him.

He lifts you up on his cock by your hips and just as easily, he pulls you back down, his tip immediately pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves. "Oh god, Suki." You pant, gripping tightly around his forearm as you fucked yourself on your boyfriend's cock.

The car shakes as your movements become irregular, more aggressive as the both of you near your highs. Your thighs burn at all the humping and your hips sting from how tight Katsuki has his grip on you, but the pain pushes your orgasm much closer to you and before you know it, your wals are spasming around his cock, pulling out a sudden orgasm from your boyfriend as well from how much your walls were milking him.

Katsuki wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you hold his face in your hands, pressing your lips on his as he buries his entire length inside you, breeding you. For a while, the care is filled with nothing but your uneven breaths, panting as the two of you calm down from your highs.

"So you think my form was good?" You smile to which your boyfriend smirks cockily at, "You were great, but give me a few months and I'll show you I can be better."

You smile excitedly at him, the sudden light in your eyes clenching Katsuki's heart as he presses his forehead on your shoulder. "So you're going to be learning?"

"Yeah, idiot. And then we can go on those stupid horseback riding dates you love to prattle to me about."

You hug your boyfriend even tighter, ignoring the gross feeling of his cum seeping out of you as you pressed kisses all over his face. "I have to call Awase and tell her you'll be taking up classes! Hold on- aren't you busy? I'll have to ask your secretary about your schedule since it's constantly changing. Hold on I think I have her number-"

"Y/n, baby, honey, love of my life." Katsuki takes your attention from your phone, "I really wasn't lying a while ago. I really am hungry as fuck."

As if on cue, his stomach grumbles loudly.

Navigation

[snelbz]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 3}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

Word Count: 2807

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

Poseidon

– God of the seas, earthquakes, horses and tidal waves

Aelin had moved past hurt.

Now, she was just pissed.

It was nearly ten o'clock after her second day of classes and she sat cross legged on the couch with Lysandra in her apartment.

Her roommate had been a worthy rant partner thus far. She’d kicked Aedion out and supplied Aelin with an endless supply of alcohol.

“It’s official. I’m sitting in your Thursday class.”

Aelin groaned, taking a long drink from her wine glass. “Don't remind me that I have to go back there, please. The thought of sitting through an entire semester with him as my teacher… Oh, gods.”

Lysandra refilled Aelin’s glass.

“You’ve done the hookup thing before,” Lysandra said, shrugging as she took a drink from her own glass. “Just pretend this is one of those situations and he meant absolutely nothing.”

“That’s impossible, for two reasons,” Aelin said, adjusting the pillow she had squished between her legs. She held up a finger. “One, it’s not like the regular hookup situation where I might see him across campus or in a bar and we can pretend we don’t know each other. This is my professor we’re talking about.” She took a very large drink of her wine and held up another finger. “Secondly, it was supposed to be a hookup, but then he turned out to be perfect and I just…” She let her head fall back against the cushions. “Do you think I just want him because I can’t have him?”

“Maybe,” Lysandra admitted, but she hadn’t ever been in a situation like this. She and Aedion had been inseparable since high school. “What does your gut say?”

“I don’t know, they’re still in knots from where he rearranged them with his huge dick,” Aelin replied, draining her wine glass.

Lysandra nearly sprayed her wine across the couch, but she knew Aelin was well and truly drunk if she was talking like that.

“So, he still means something to you, then?” Lysandra asked. “Even after you found out he’s your professor, and also a little bit of a dick, apparently.”

Aelin shot her a look. “No, I’m drunk off my ass because he means nothing to me. Have you not been listening?”

Lysandra rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’ve been listening. But, after two hours things just start to blur together and not make sense.”

Aelin hit her roommate with her pillow.

Lysandra only laughed. “Maybe sit and think on it for a few days, yeah? Maybe it’s new and exciting and he’s hot as hell, but all that will fade if it meant nothing.”

Aelin nodded, slowly, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. “And if it doesn’t fade? If it actually meant something?”

“If it actually meant something, then he won’t be forgetting about you any time soon, either,” Lysandra said, sipping from her glass.

She was still on glass #1.

Aelin had lost count of how many glasses she had drained so far.

“Doesn’t make it any easier now,” Aelin said, that hurt creeping its way back in. “You should’ve seen him, Lys. This morning, at his apartment, it was just…perfect. Then when he saw me in class, he was a completely different person.”

“Have you tried to see this from his perspective, Ace?” Lysandra asked, standing and heading into the kitchen. She handed Aelin a cold water bottle when she returned, falling back onto the couch next to her.

“Of course,” she snapped, opening the lid. “And I get it, it’s a big deal, but it’s not like I’m underage. I’m twenty-one, not sixteen. It’s not like he broke the law.”

“No, but I’m sure there’s a bylaw somewhere in his contract that says Don’t fuck your students,” Lysandra drawled, tucking her legs between her.

Aelin mumbled, “I bet it doesn’t say exactly that.”

“No, I’m sure it’s more along the line of inappropriate misconduct, but if we’re getting specific, it wouldn’t be hard for me to find an example,” she replied, leveling Aelin with a stare.

“Calm your pre-law ass down, I get it,” Aelin sighed, drinking from the water bottle. “His aunt is the president of the university. I wouldn’t want him to get into any trouble with her.”

Lysandra’s eyes softened. “He probably just got scared. I hear he’s a new professor. This must be his first year here. Hell, if he’s as young as you say, this must be his first year anywhere.”

Luck. He’d gotten the job purely out of luck, out of his connections to the university, and here Aelin was, jeopardizing his career as soon as it began.

“I’m being a bitch, aren’t I?” She asked, quietly, before draining her glass.

“You have the right to be hurt,” Lysandra said. “I’m not saying you don’t have that right, because I’d be hurt, too. But, I definitely think that this is complicated as hell.”

Aelin nodded, and took a drink of water before pouring the last of the wine into her glass. “We’re going to need another bottle of this, Lys.”

“I would just take you to the bar,” Lysandra said, “but I wouldn’t want to risk you fucking any of the other faculty.”

Aelin’s eyes snapped to hers.

Lysandra sucked in her lips to stop her grin. “Too soon?”

Aelin nudged her best friend, unable to stop her sputtering laughter. “Bitch.”

Lysandra caught her before she leaned back across the couch and held onto her shoulders, hugging her tightly. “I know this sucks, Ace, and I know you liked him. But just give it time. Either you’ll move on, which I can always help with, or something will happen. It’s not like you won’t be seeing him every other day.”

She sighed, resting her head on Lysandra's shoulder. “I know… I know.”

Lysandra reached for the remote, turning the television on. “What would make you feel better? Sappy love story, trashy reality tv, or a horror flick?”

“Trashy tv,” she decided, if for no other reason than it would be easy for her to block out while she still wallowed in her own misery.

Lysandra did as she was told, refilling Aelin’s glass again, and she thanked her best friend.

All the while, Aelin wondered how pissed Rowan was, or if he was feeling the same way she was.

*

A knock on Rowan’s door around nine-thirty had him closing his laptop and throwing it open. He groaned when he found Lorcan on the other side, walking back inside and leaving his best friend to let himself in.

“Alright, fill me in on Little Miss Perfect you took out last night. She was all you could talk about this morning, and then boom.” He sat down on the couch next to Rowan, noticing the half empty bottle of bourbon and looked at him. “Radio silence for the rest of the day.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t you be going home to your girlfriend?”

“She’s out with Manon,” Lorcan said, blowing off the question. “I’m bored, so talk.”

Rowan sighed, pushing himself up to go into his kitchen. He came back a moment later, two glasses in hand. He supposed he couldn’t continue to drink out of the bottle with company.

After handing Lorcan a half-filled glass, Rowan said, “It’s just not going to work.”

“You decided that quickly,” Lorcan muttered, his eyes remaining locked on Rowan. “Did you google her after she left? Find something cringeworthy?”

Rowan sipped from his glass. “She’s just not who I thought she was, that’s all.”

Lorcan scoffed. “You’re being vague.”

Rowan shrugged. That seemed to be the only answer he was going to give him.

“So what?” Lorcan asked, crossing an ankle over his knee and swirling the contents of his glass. “She lied and you caught her?”

“No, she didn’t lie,” Rowan said, dragging a hand down his face. “But it can’t happen. So it won’t.”

Lorcan raised one dark eyebrow. “First you say won’t, now you say can’t.”

Rowan emptied his glass. “What about it?”

“Well, which one is it?” He asked, leaning back. “Those two have very different meanings.”

“It can’t and it won’t,” he replied, giving Lorcan a pointed look.

Lorcan snorted, but took a drink from his own glass. “You act like she’s one of your students.”

Rowan didn’t say a word. He only stared at his closed laptop.

It took Lorcan a few seconds to understand Rowan’s silence. And a few more before he figured out how to make his mouth work.

And when he did, he started laughing.

“Are you kidding me, Whitethorn?” He asked, clutching his stomach. “You fucked your student?”

“Fuck off,” Rowan muttered, refilling his glass.

Lorcan was hardly able to breathe. “It was your first day at your first big boy job, and you already found yourself in bed-.” His words faded away as his laughter consumed him.

“It’s not like she’s some freshman,” Rowan snapped. “She’s about to graduate. Twenty-one. I just…” Rowan groaned as his face fell into his hands. “Someone had recommended the bar to me and told me the faculty hung out there a lot. I just assumed she was one of them, since she was the one to suggest the place.”

“Hate to break it to you,” Lorcan continued, still laughing. “But, people in their twenties don’t often land jobs at renowned universities. You’re the exception.”

Rowan continued to drink.

“Alright, alright,” Lorcan continued, taking a deep breath. “You’re five years older than her, so what? I’m four years older than Elide. Once you both hit twenty, age is just a number.”

Rowan shot him a look. “She’s a student, Lor. Maeve will fire me in a heartbeat over any sort of misconduct. This…” He just shook his head. “This position is a once in a lifetime opportunity that I probably shouldn’t even have. I can’t ruin it.”

Lorcan knew full well how harsh Rowan’s aunt could be. Before she’d become president of a prestigious university, she’d been the dean at the boarding school he and Rowan had spent their adolescence at. “So either move on or be careful and don’t let her find out.”

Rowan blinked at his friend. He was being so casual about this, when Rowan was freaking out both inside and out, which had required a two hour gym session earlier to calm his nerves.

Lorcan sighed and set his glass down. “Look, I really don’t see the issue here. She isn’t using you to pass the class, right?”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to Rowan, but he remembered the look of pure and utter shock on her face when they’d seen each other in the classroom. “No, it’s a basic gen ed. Plus I really don’t think she’d ever do that.”

Lorcan nodded. “Right. There are much tougher classes she could try and sleep her way through.” At Rowan’s simmering look at his choice of words, Lorcan held up his hands in placation. “I’m just saying, make sure she’s actually doing her homework and studying for her and don’t let Maeve find out.”

Rowan hesitated, but when his lips opened, nothing came out.

He liked Aelin. He really, really liked Aelin. And, yeah, it had been much more than a hookup. When he’d woken up that morning next to her in bed, he felt a sense of peace and satisfaction that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Then again, the way he’d snapped at her that morning, knowing that she had only said what she had out of anger - even if she had been correct - would be difficult to come back from.

Rowan had completely shattered her. He saw it in her eyes before she left.

“I don’t know,” Rowan said, at last.

Lorcan groaned before pounding back his drink and pouring himself another. “You’re always going to be the one to stand in the way of your own happiness, Whitethorn.”

He refrained from saying anything. Lorcan had always been the one to hop from girl to girl, while he had always been the one in a committed relationship. After his last relationship had…ended, he hadn’t wanted anyone for a while.

Aelin was the first spark he’d felt since.

“You’re into her,” Lorcan said, staring up at the ceiling to avoid any sort of eye contact while he said something nice. “I can tell. And, if you don’t go for it, you’re going to regret it.”

Rowan knew he was right.

Of course, he was right.

And yet, this job was the first job he had been granted in his field since graduating three years prior with his degree in mythology. Yeah, he may have gotten it because of Maeve, but that didn’t make it any less important to him.

He had the chance to get students excited about something he loved, something he was passionate about.

“Go home to your woman or shut up and turn on the TV,” Rowan muttered, downing the contents in his glass.

Lorcan only snorted and grabbed the remote, fulfilling Rowan’s wishes.

*

Aelin awoke the next morning with a slight headache and the same dull ache in her chest.

Knowing she needed to move, workout the bad vibes, she tossed up her hair and put on her workout wear before jogging to the gym.

She was still regretting signing up for even one eight am classes, and was thankful her Friday’s were free. She was looking forward to some much needed sleep, which was a lost cause right now.

When she was packing her gym bag, she decided to go straight to class after a quick shower, so she tossed it into a locker after she arrived, locked it up, and put her ear buds in.

The gym was still pretty empty this early, since it wasn’t even eight yet, and most people were too focused on their own workouts to pay attention to those surrounding them. Aelin was grateful for the distraction the gym would provide, and for the physical outlet, as well.

She was just finishing up a mile run on the treadmills when she felt eyes on her. She could tell she was being watched, but didn’t want to look around. Whether it was someone ogling her from across the room or someone from one of her classes, she wasn’t in the mood to make small talk and made her way over to the machines, starting on her legs first. She cranked her music up and kept an eye on the time on her watch.

When there was about forty-five minutes before her first class, she put the free weights she’d been using back in their home and turned to head to the locker room for a much needed shower.

And found who had been watching her during her workout.

Green eyes bored into her own and Aelin felt a blush rising in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the amount of energy she’d exerted this early in the morning.

Ignoring the voice inside of her head, Aelin stopped in front of Rowan, and nodded. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. His t-shirt clung to him, and it was a fact that Aelin could not ignore.

“I was just going to get ready for class,” she said. “Excuse me.”

She swept past him, but his voice pulled her up short. “Aelin.”

She stilled, and slowly turned around to meet his gaze.

“About yesterday,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. Aelin found the gesture somewhat charming, although she wouldn’t admit it. “I’m sorry. I…didn’t handle the situation right. It all took me by surprise and I reacted poorly. I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” she said, looking away from him, down at her feet. “I said some things I didn’t mean. I’m…not proud of it.”

He shook his head. “Let’s just…pretend all of it didn’t happen, yeah?”

She swallowed roughly. “All of it?”

Rowan sighed. “Just because we apologized doesn’t change anything, Aelin. You’re still my student.”

She nodded, not looking at him. “Right. No. I get it. I have to get ready for class.”

Making to slip around him, she got two steps away before his hand wrapped around her wrist. “Aelin, I’m… I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t— I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

Daring to take a chance by looking back at him, it nearly destroyed what was left of her when she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “But wishing doesn’t change anything, does it?” Aelin pulled her wrist free. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Rowan said nothing, but she saw that her shot landed in his eyes.

She shook it off, though, hurrying away, toward the showers.

Aelin knew one thing was for certain: no matter how much she cared for Rowan Whitethorn, there would never be anything between them.

Even if she wanted there to be.

[thefanficmonster]

Phone Call Anxiety

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When wanting to make quality merch, one needs a quality team there to produce and work on quality ideas. Great minds think alike. Great eyes see alike and great hands make alike - the three keys to the formula of creating a clothing line that will be fashionable and up to his brand. Luckily, Corpse knows just who to call.

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your wonderful request, I absolutely loved the idea! Sorry you’ve had to wait for it to be turned into a fic for so long, but I still hope you come across it and give it a read in which case I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

He’s not a fan of phone calls. Anyone who knows him even remotely is very well informed on Corpse’s distaste for phone calls and upholding a conversation over the phone. He’d even go as far as to say talking to a person face to face is less stressful for him than that previous option.

But still, seeing as how the person he’s trying to reach lives in a different state and is rather busy all the time, arranging an IRL meeting is basically impossible at the moment, and sending her a text results in running the risk of having the text overlooked or completely lost in the sea of notifications she probably gets on the daily.

Therefore, a phone call was his only proper way of reaching her. And it’s what’s got him pacing the room with his nervousness peaking.  He doesn’t know anything about this girl, nothing concrete at least. He was referred to her by Jack who brought her up in their passing conversation when Corpse mentioned how paranoid he was regarding his upcoming merch project. He specifically stated he doesn’t want anything basic and he wants the clothes to be fashionable, suitable for anyone no matter the age or gender and to be endurable. With all the love he has for his fans, he doesn’t want to give them anything less than what they deserve - the best.

“My friend’s the person you’re looking for.“ Jack said enthusiastically and confidently, “She helped me design the latest merch line I put out and I’ve never been more satisfied with my own merch. I’m planning on offering her a position in Cloak for her birthday. Make sure not to let that one slip out if you give her a call though.“ He warned half-jokingly. 

Bottom line, with that kind of intro, Corpse couldn’t help but let his interest be piqued. And so, he asked for this girl - Y/N’s contact info from Jack before he went to surf through her social media where she thankfully posted plenty of pictures of her creations, never failing to mention specifications in the caption of each picture so the viewers would get the perfect and most detailed idea of how high the standard for her work is.

And so he’s finally managed to talk himself into dialing her number that’s been sitting in his phone for weeks now. As he paces his living room, his nerves chewing him out like a dog would with a toy, listening to the ear piercing ring of the dial waiting to get picked up by the girl he’s trying to reach. 

Just then, Corpse’s head turns so that his eyes meet the glowing red numbers on his digital clock on his desk and he damn near hangs up the call right away - it’s half an hour past midnight. Fast as lightning, he removes the phone from his ear, his thumb flying over to press the red ‘end call’ button. Just then, a faint ‘hello’ reaches his ears, coming from the phone’s speaker. She’s answered the call.

He hurries to put the phone back up to his ear.

“Hey, sorry for taking so long to pick up, I ought to clean my desk eventually cause my phone was literally BURIED under a pile of papers.“ A cheerful sing-song voice rattles his stale and sleep deprived consciousness, as if awakening him from a half-dream state. “You’re either a wrong number caller or a last minute client, aren’t you? Need something done urgently?“

Corpse is taken the hell aback by her strong and downright awing first impression. Not to mention her energy at an hour unsuitable for calls. Lord knows he wouldn’t have picked up if her were in her spot. With the intention of not wasting any more of her time than necessary, he hurries to explain his situation. “Y/N, right? Um no, I’m neither actually. I was told about you by a friend, he said you were a real miracle-doer with fashion design.” He trails off for a second, not completely sure of how to hold this conversation, “Uh, sorry for the odd timed call, I lost track of time. I’ve been meaning to call you for hours now but I...I was nervous.” He cringes the second the word leaves his lips, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He doesn’t know why he wants to leave her with a great, better than realistic impression of himself but he does and as of now he deems his attempts as ultimate failures.

He hears her giggle from her end, rifling through what sounds to be papers, “Yeah, I’m her. And boy is it refreshing to get someone who’s calling with an actual purpose.” She sighs as if a weight’s been lifted off her shoulders, “And don’t worry about the phone call anxiety. Makes two of us, to be honest.”

This catches him off-guard. The last thing he’d expect is for this girl to have phone call anxiety. In fact, she appears to be a natural, God-given talent at carrying conversations and upholding chit-chat with people. Maybe he’s a little too quick to judge - probably, considering he’s ‘known’ her for less than five minutes and knows nothing but her occupation, her name and the state she lives in - but that bubbly persona she greeted him with gave off the impression that it’s immune to any and all kinds of social anxiety - or anxiety in general. To hear such an honest and counter-to-assumptions confession on her part rattles him a tiny bit. In a good way though.

“How does that work for you? Isn’t your whole job depending on your phone conversational skills?“ He doesn’t mind that he didn’t phrase that too perfectly or that he straight up blurted it out. He knows he’ll be understood. She’s obviously a person who understands. Not just something specific, but everything. She simply understands. How he drew this conclusion and how accurate it is, he may not know until further notice.

“Well...“ she sighs as if genuinely looking to give him a proper answer, “You see, after doing it for so long and having been caught off guard quite a few times with some absolutely absurd orders, I’ve grown prepared of literally ANYTHING and I have a line prepared for anything the caller has to say. I just no longer let them catch me off guard and it’s fine. Helps avoid any possible awkward silences.“

Corpse’s eyebrows shoot up, her explanation only raising more questions rather than providing answers. But he’s not gonna be the annoying dumbass asking those questions at close to 1AM and bugging her. After all, if she agrees to this partnership, they’ll be hearing and potentially seeing a lot more of each other soon. “Impressive, honestly. You’re gonna need to teach me sometime.“ He’s unaware he’s smiling until he catches his reflection in the window. However, he doesn’t bother hiding it. This conversation is actually making him feel good, serving as a reminder that he’s not the only one who periodically goes through turmoil over small things. 

She giggles again, this time the sound manages to draw a blush out of him, coating his cheeks, “I’d typically stray for revealing my secrets to professional success, but I’m willing to make an exception for you...” she pauses for a second as though she’s just now remembered something, “Oh shoot, I don’t even know your name.”

He wheezes out a nervous laugh, realizing he never introduced him, “Oh yeah, sorry, that’s my bad. My name’s Corpse, nice to meet ya.”

“Nice to meet you too, Corpse.“ Y/N replies, sounding pleased but teasing simultaneously, “Now tell me, you didn’t call me about my phone call secrets, did you? What may be the real purpose of your call?“

Oh shoot, he himself almost forgot what he was calling for. Luckily, the reference designs displayed on his computer screen remind him. “Right, well, I’ve been thinking of launching a new merch line either this month or the next, depending on how long the procedure will take, and I needed someone great on my team to make some merch actually worth the money people are paying for it. And, as I said, I was told you were in that ‘someone great’ category.”

“Told by who, if you don’t mind me asking?“ She briefly cuts him off, her voice now giving away the fact that she’s half-absent-minded in this conversation, added evidence be the ruffling of more papers on her end.

“Jack. I mean, Sean. You know, Jacksepticeye.“ Corpse explains, contemplating whether he should’ve ratted Jack out like that. Hearing the sound of delight Y/N lets out eases his worries ASAP though.

“Oh Gosh, I haven’t seen that cutie in so long! He’s like a brother to me so a friend of Jack’s is a friend of min-“ this time she cuts herself off so abruptly Corpse thought the line was cut or she hung up on him. She doesn’t let him wonder for long though, “Wait, wait, wait....Merch? And you’re friends with Jack?“ She pauses for a second once again, once again not a long enough second for Corpse to speak up. “You’re a famous YouTuber, aren’t you?“

He was completely unaware of the fact Y/N hadn’t realized he was someone famous yet. In fact, he didn’t think of it because he thought it wouldn’t be a big deal to her considering she’s friends with Jack-fucking-septiceye! In his mind, his ranking is far lower than Jack’s - despite that mindset being absurd - so the last thing he expected was for her to have some sort of impressed reaction to have been talking to him on the phone this whole time. Hell, she doesn’t even know his full YouTube name or what kind of content he produces.

“WAIT!“ She shouts urgently, startling him a tiny bit, “You’re Corpse Husband, aren’t you? Oh my God, yes you are, how didn’t I put it together sooner? Ah crap, I really need more coffee for this.“

“No! No, you need more sleep.“ Corpse hurries to correct her but is very clearly ignored or overlapped with the many sounds that are coming from her end, “What are you doing?“

“You’re getting the first rough sketch of a design by tomorrow morning.“ She says, taking a sip of whatever beverage she’s acquired for the purpose of keeping her awake, “You go ahead and get some sleep, I know exactly what I’m doing. Don’t worry about it.“

“I’m not worried about the design.“ He hurries to say before she, God forbid, hangs up on him, “It’s 1AM, woman, you need sleep! I don’t need those designs done by tomorrow. Hell, I don’t even need them this week!“

“You don’t, but I do.“ Y/N says, sounding almost breathless because of what seems to be overwhelming excitement, “You don’t get it - I’m designing merch for Corpse fucking Husband! You have any idea how crazy that is?“

“I personally would say it’s underwhelming. I mean, I’m no Pewdiepie, after all.“ He says, now sat at his desk with his free hand rubbing his temple as he stares at the designs he’s pulled up on his screen, ones he probably won’t need given that he’s now working with a professional.

“Oh, shut it.“ She chuckles, “Shut it and get some sleep, ok? I’ll talk to you in the morning.“

“Noooo...“ He leisurely stretches the word, “Tell me, Y/N, do you have Discord?” She clicks her tongue instantly, giving him a signal that the question he’s asked is bordering into the territory of ridiculous. He playfully rolls his eyes, “Alright then, lemme find you. If we’re partnering up on this, we’re both staying up.”

“You know you can just straight up tell me you don’t fully trust me with this? Like, I won’t be offended, I get it.“ She murmurs in-thought, the sound of clicking evident on her end. 

“You know you can just straight up tell me you don’t want me bothering you and want me to leave you alone?“ He mimics her statement, smirking to himself as he pulls up Discord, knowing he’s already won.

She huffs and tells him her Discord info, quickly adding a small comment, “...but only because great minds think alike. I know we’ll be getting along on this design pretty nicely.”

“Yeah, yeah, right, sure, whatever you say.“ He laughs, “Accept my friend request and let’s drop this phone call.“

“Hey! - um, before we do that, I just wanna say a quick thank you.“ Y/N murmurs quietly, as if half-hoping he doesn’t hear her.

“For what?“ Corpse asks, his brows furrowing, unsure if they’re on the same page about this gratitude.

“For never once triggering my phone call anxiety.“ She admits, “I mean, I know I said I have lines prepared for every conversation scenario possible, but you totally caught me off-guard.“ She giggles a tiny bit, now sounding dangerously close to nervous, “But, not in a bad way, if that makes sense. Sorry if it doesn’t, I need more coffee.“

“No, no, it does!“ He hurries to reassure her, “It really does. And thank you too. Thank you for, you know, tolerating my BS at this hour. God knows I would’ve ignored your call if our roles were reversed.“

He hears her scoff and can’t help but laugh, “Huh ok, I see.“ She says, sounding greatly triggered and mock-pissed at his confession, “I’ll make sure to think of that next time you call me after midnight. Or at all, ever.“

Laughing his butt off, the only thing Corpse can think of in this moment is:

Damn, this girl and I are gonna get along

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[homoose]

Weird is Good

Summary: A story about two people tryna make it through the age of COVID-19 in a country where people are fucking dumb lmao. My hc is that Spencer would be like wtf at all these science-denying anti-maskers. Also, two teachers just tryna make it through quarantine and remote teaching in a one bedroom apartment (this is taking place during a mandatory leave/lecture cycle).

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: no warnings. reader is both a kindergarten teacher and a bruh girl with a pirate’s mouth. lots of Spencer x factz.

Word count: 3.1k

———

“We’re home for the next two weeks. ”

Spencer looked up from his desk to see Y/N kicking off her shoes, dropping her bag, and walking directly to the sink. “Starting when?”

“We get to go in on Monday to say goodbye to the kids and get any materials we might need. Then we’re home for two weeks. They’re calling it an early, extended spring break.” Y/N began her hand washing routine. As a kindergarten teacher, she’d always been a strict hand-washer. In the time of COVID, she had only become more zealous. She looked at Spencer. “Have you heard anything?”

“Since we’re so close to the end of the semester, the department head thinks they’ll try to finish out the year as normal.” He set down his pen. “I honestly don’t know. It will all depend on whether people follow the CDC guidelines. The spread of any virus is deducible mathematically, and SARS-COV2 is no different. Based on the outbreak in Italy prior to their lockdown, we can accurately describe its reproductive number, or Rt, to between 2.43 – 3.10.”

Y/N shut off the water and dried her hands on a paper towel. “In layman's terms, Dr. Reid.”

“The Rt tells how many people are infected by the contagious host,” he explained. “In the case of this strain, each infected person is infecting between two and three others. For comparison, the standard seasonal flu has an average Rt between 1.4 and 1.7.”

“So in other words, fucking yikes,” Y/N groaned. She moved to perch on the edge of Spencer’s desk.

“Indeed,” Spencer agreed. “We know how fast the flu can travel through an office or a classroom, so imagine if it was two times as transmissible. But it's also really important to understand that this number changes depending on the mitigations in place. Even prior to full lockdown, mask wearing and social distancing was somewhat common in Italy, so it’s likely the uncontrolled Rt is higher.”

“Jesus Christ.” Y/N scrubbed a hand over her face. “We’ll probably never go back.”

Spencer rubbed his hand up from her ankle to the inside of her knee. “The good news is there’s nothing special about this virus compared to others in terms of how it spreads— it’s just aerosols. So if everyone wears their mask, we’ll be able to keep the spread low.”

⧭⧭⧭

“It’s safe to say that everyone did not wear their fucking masks,” Y/N snapped. She watched from the couch as Mayor Bowser delivered the news that DC Public Schools would remain closed for the remainder of the year. “This is crazy. I mean, I knew it was coming because people in this country are absolute buffoons.” She looked at Spencer, fingers pressed to her temple. “But holy shit, are we ever going to be able to go outside again?”

“With schools and universities closed, people working remotely, and lockdown orders in place, the Rt in the US could stay low. But masks have to be worn at all times, and social distancing has to be strictly followed.” Spencer pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I just— I can’t believe people are refusing to wear masks. The empirical, peer-reviewed data clearly shows—”

“This is ‘Murica, boy.” Y/N mocked. “Ain’t no tyrannical government gonna tell me what to do!” She rolled her eyes. “Trust me, your choice to abstain from social media is paying dividends to your sanity right now.”

Spencer looked truly dumbfounded, setting his newspaper down in his lap. “But that’s just it. It’s not just in social media circles.” He gestured to the article in front of him. “This economist just argued for ‘reopening’ the economy using the justification of herd immunity. Herd immunity can be a plausible option for less lethal diseases. But this virus is not like varicella—the chickenpox,” he clarified at Y/N’s raised eyebrow. He waved his hands around in exasperation. “Putting aside the fact that one facet of herd immunity is vaccinating as many people as possible, its success completely hinges on the Rt of a disease. If you model a population based on an Rt of 2.5, herd immunity wouldn’t be achieved until approximately sixty percent of the population has been infected. Consider that the US population is currently 328 million, and sixty percent of that is 196.8 million. The current mortality rate for SARS-COV2 is 3.06 percent. 196,800,000 multiplied by 0.0306 is 6,022,080. Over six million people would die. It's simple mathematics.”

Y/N let out an exasperated breath. “It used to be that simple math and facts were enough. Now you’ve got basement scientists who think they know better than actual, literal scientists who’ve spent their entire lives studying these things.” She ran a hand over her face and gestured at the news conference still playing. “How long do you think it’ll be before we’re both trying to teach from this tiny ass living room?”

⧭⧭⧭

“Goooooooood morning, kindergarten! It’s Friday, and no Friday is a bad Friday!” Spencer smiled. As he poured his first cup of coffee, he hummed along with Y/N and 23 six-year-olds as they sang their morning song. Observing fourteen days of remote kindergarten from across the living room had given Spencer a new appreciation for elementary school teachers, particularly Y/N. She sang, danced, conducted science experiments, held puppet shows, read stories, led art projects, and fielded questions for four hours a day— three hours less than when they were in the school building. He was exhausted by proxy.

But he was also grateful for the opportunity to watch Y/N in her element. Even though they were at home, she still got dressed every day in bright, patterned sweaters and dresses— her Ms. Frizzle attire, she’d told him once. She was able to channel her personality into a kid-friendly version that her students clearly adored, never afraid to be silly or strange to get their attention and keep them engaged during the long days. He worked from home whenever possible, strangely happy to have the background noise of kindergarten over his quiet university office.

...

“Okay, but where do I put the biiiiiiiiiiiig number?” Y/N made a wide gesture with her arms. “Ariah, where should I put it? In the big box, yes! But oh no, my small number needs a friend. My three is soooooo lonely!” Y/N drew her mouth into a pout. “DJ, how can I help my three not be so sad? You’re absolutely right, let’s put that two right next to him in our number bond.”

…

“I’ve been waitin’  for a girl to mute,” Y/N sang into the gold karaoke mic. “I said, muuuuuuuuuute, I’m blinded by loud sounds. No, I can’t hear the friend who’s tryin’ to talk.”

…

“Oh boy. Kev, honey, we can— we can see you. Kevin, Kevin, Kevin. We can see all of you. I can’t turn your camera off, buddy. You gotta— there we go.”

…

“Mute please, I need— I need everybody to mute, please. Oh my goodness where is that music coming from?” Y/N frantically searched for her index card with the picture of the mute icon, as the sounds of a highly inappropriate song blared through the computer speaker. “I know it’s so loud, guys. Why is my mute power gone?! This is why we need to make sure we keep our mute button on, kindergarten.”

…

“No sweetie, it’s not time to log off yet. I’m sorry, I know it’s such a long day. We have about an hour left. Do you guys wanna do a countdown? It’s the fin-al count-down! Do-do doo dooooo. Do-do-d-do-dooo…”

…

“Annnnnd, I should see all my friends on mute. William, hang on just a second. All my friends need to look at my picture, it’s an oval with a line through it… Okay, William, what did you bring to show us?” Y/N leaned toward the computer screen. “Grandma Kathy? O-oh, she’s— she’s in the—“ Y/N’s eyes widened. “Is that— is that an urn? Oh wow. Um, well, wow. It’s beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing that with us, William. Grandma Kathy, may she rest in peace.”

⧭⧭⧭

A week into Y/N teaching kindergarten from their living room, the university had announced its transition to online coursework for the remainder of the academic year. Spencer had to host his first zoom lecture, and he was absolutely dreading it.

“Spence, it’s going to be fine. It’s not like you’ve never been on a video conference,” Y/N assured him. She sat cross-legged on the couch, waiting for him to let her in to his practice zoom.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t running those meetings. I just showed up.” He squinted at the computer screen. “Are you in?”

Y/N barely resisted the urge to make a joke, knowing that Spencer probably wouldn’t appreciate the innuendo. “No, you have to admit me.”

“What do you mean? How do I do that?”

“There should be a box with a button that says admit.”

Spencer gestured at the computer. “Well there’s a bunch of boxes— which one should I be looking at?”

Y/N sighed and got up from the couch. “IQ of 187 and can’t find the box.”

Spencer dragged a hand through his hair. “I know I shouldn’t find this so difficult. I’m sorry you have to waste your time on this.”

“Hey, it was a joke.” Y/N grabbed his hand from where he was frustratedly pulling on his frazzled curls. “I’m sorry. That was mean and you’re already stressed enough.” She used her free hand to smooth his hair back into place. She scrunched her nose. “I love you and your limited technology skills. And honestly it’s kind of nice to have one thing I can actually teach you about.” She squeezed his hand, leaning over him to peer at his computer screen. “All right, let’s find that elusive admit button.”

When the day of his lecture rolled around, Spencer thanked all the atoms in the observable universe that Y/N had a break during his class. Within the first ten minutes, he’d managed to accidentally kick himself out of his own meeting and then somehow lose track of the screenshare button.

“No one can see me and I don’t know what happened to the screenshare option. It was there and now it’s just… gone,” he told Y/N.

She leaned over his desk, eyes tracking over the screen and mouse clicking around the desktop. “How in the world did you manage to block your camera?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t even touch it!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand how it’s even possible to be this bad at this.”

Y/N bumped his knee with her own, pulling up his camera settings and preferences. “Relax. You can’t be good at everything. It’s a refreshing reminder that you’re a mere mortal like the rest of us.” With a few rapid clicks, Y/N unblocked his camera and located the screenshare bar. “There. Crisis averted. I’m just going to share your whole screen in case you want to toggle between application windows. So just be aware that they’ll be able to see everything. And then you just click here when you’re ready to stop sharing.”

When Y/N turned her head toward him to check that he understood, Spencer grabbed the side of her face and caught her lips in a kiss. Y/N smiled against his mouth, heart speeding up as he traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue.

“Um, Dr. Reid? Your um— your camera’s working now.”

Spencer nearly fell out of his chair, his cheeks about the color of the Leave Meeting icon. Y/N dropped her head, debating whether she wanted to laugh or let the earth open up and swallow her whole. She ultimately decided to compose herself, stepping back and giving a little wave to the sea of tiny, grinning zoom faces before slinking out of frame, miming sorry to one very mortified professor.

⧭⧭⧭

“Would you want to be our mystery reader next week?” Y/N asked, bookmarking the page of her novel and reclining back in bed. “You just have to pick a story to read. Oh, and think of four clues about your identity to give the kiddos.”

Spencer raised his eyebrow, continuing to read. “Any story?”

Y/N laughed. “Well they’re six, so maybe hold off on the Chaucer and Bradbury for now. A picture book would be preferable.”

“Did you know that the first picture book, Orbis Sensualium Pictus, or Visible World in Pictures, was published in 1658?” He looked up from his own book. “Czech educator John Amos Comenius wanted to create a book that would be accessible to children of all levels of ability. The educational theories he explored are actually still in practice in the field of early childhood education.” He turned toward her from his spot under the covers. “For example, when you have your students make a hissing sound and slither their arms when they produce the sound represented by the letter s? Comenius included an alphabet chart with various animal and human sounds representing each letter. He wanted to demonstrate that the incorporation of multiple senses could help increase learning.”

“I guess you don’t fix what isn’t broken,” Y/N mused. “300 years later, and we’re still using the same methods.”

“362, actually,” Spencer corrected.

She gave him a look. “Maybe we can save the Comenius for another time.”

“The genre of children’s literature encompasses some of the most profound and philosophical story telling of all time.” Spencer returned his attention to his reading.

“...So is that a yes?”

Spencer smiled. “I’ve got a book in mind.”

“And clues,” Y/N reminded him, snuggling down under the covers and reopening her book. “We need some fun clues, mystery reader.”

…

“Kindergarten, we have a very special mystery reader this week. Oh man, are you ready for the first clue? The mystery reader loves jell-o! Raise your little hand if you love jell-o, too. Okay, kindergarten, I see you! Lots of jell-o lovers in the house.”

…

“Okay, clue number two! Our mystery reader works as a community helper— remember we learned about all different kinds of community helpers; firefighters, nurses, police officers. But if the mystery reader could be anything, they’d want to be a cowboy! How cool is that?”

...

“Clue number three for our mystery reader!” Y/N sucked in a gasp. “You guys. The mystery reader can do magic. Oh my goodness, I am so excited for Friday,” she sing-songed. “Will they show us a trick? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe if you ask nicely.”

…

“Okay, my friends, the last clue. The mystery reader loves reading. They read every day, and they’ve been reading since 1983! Yes, that was a very long time ago.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Okay, any last guesses about who our mystery reader might be?” Y/N questioned.

“I think it’s your dad,” a little voice called out.

Spencer made a choking noise from where he sat, slightly off camera. Y/N laughed. “The mystery reader is decidedly not my dad, Keyshon. Remember I showed you guys the picture of him— my dad’s a farmer, so he’s kind of already a cowboy.” She clapped her hands together. “Okay, without further ado, drumroll please... Our mystery reader is…” Y/N pushed her desk chair out of frame to allow Spencer to roll in, holding her hands out. “Spencer!”

He gave a little wave, smoothing his hair, suddenly painfully self-aware and nervous about the opinions of two dozen six-year-olds. “Hi guys.”

“You’re the boy on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone.”

“Your hair is so fluffy!”

“Do you have a cowboy hat?”

“I like your sweater.”

“Can you really do magic?”

“What’s your favorite jell-o?”

“Whoa, okay, let’s remember our mute button,” Y/N, holding up her index card. “I promise you’ll get to ask Spencer all your questions after he reads the story.”

Spencer smiled at the excited faces beaming through the screen. “Yes, I’m on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone; I don’t own a cowboy hat, yet; yes, I really can do magic; and the red jell-o is my favorite.”

Y/N watched with interest as Spencer pulled out his book. He’d been secretive about his choice, so she was as curious as her students.

“This is one of my favorite stories. It’s written by Munro Leaf, and illustrated by Robert Lawson. It’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer held the cover up to the camera. “Ferdinand is the bull here on the cover. This story was written in 1935, which was a long time ago! Okay are you ready?” Spencer looked out on a sea of thumbs up, turning the page to the beginning of the story. “Once upon a time in Spain, there was a bull, and his name was Ferdinand.”

Y/N smiled as she listened to Spencer read each page, recounting the story of the peaceful bull. He was an excellent storyteller, changing the inflection and expression of his voice to match each sentence. He held each page up for just the right amount of time, panning it so her students could see each detail of the black and white pictures. He added his own wonderings and exclamations here and there, and her students were decidedly enthralled. Her heart ached at how comfortable he was, how natural this was for him. She rested her chin in her hand, trying to keep her mind in the present— ignoring the persistent little mental image of Spencer as a dad.

“So they had to take Ferdinand home. And for all I know, he is sitting there still, under his favorite cork tree, smelling the flowers just quietly. He is very happy… And that’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer closed the book with a soft smile. “I love this story. Ferdinand is a very special bull. What do you think makes him so special?”

“Ferdinand didn’t fight,” a little voice piped up.

“Yes!” Spencer agreed. “He practiced pacifism in the face of the persistent, ingrained militarism of his country’s culture.”

Y/N placed a hand on Spencer’s knee and gave a quick squeeze. “Right, Ferdinand chose not to fight, even though everybody else he knew wanted to.” Y/N winked at him before turning back to the screen full of kids. “All his friends thought he was kind of weird, but he just really wanted to hang out in the shade and smell the flowers, huh? Sounds pretty good to me.”

“He wasn’t bothered that the other bulls thought he was strange for wanting to be peaceful,” Spencer added. “Sometimes being different can be a good thing. The Story of Ferdinand reminds me that it’s okay to be yourself, even if other people think you’re weird.” His eyes met Y/N’s. “Because there will always be people who love and appreciate you for who you are.”

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 8

Cult girl and Hannibal go through an exhaustive list of potential adoptive couples. 

@wisesandwichshark

Trigger warning: sexual harassment, christianity, discussion of pregnancy and family planning, adoption, murder and cannibalism 

Step two: find an adoptive family.

Some would say your list of expectations for potential adoptive parents was too extensive. Impossible for any human to reach. But it was really just the bare minimum.

Regardless of if they were two men, two women, one of each, or a few people, the parents had to be trustworthy. It wasn't easy to earn Hannibal's trust, but he could recognize those who had the capacity to right away. It was a little instinct you had dubbed 'friend or food'.

On paper, the apostolic pastor and his wife of 19 years seemed like the perfect candidates. The adoption agency tried to push them on you, as they had a great track record with adopting from them prior. Three boys, all of which were honors students.

Hannibal insisted on a formal introduction, during which you could conduct a proper, though surreptitious, interview. It was an invitation to dinner.

He invited the couple into his office, where a pot of tea and an interrogation was waiting for them. Then there was you. Barely-pregnant little [F/N], feeling entirely safe so long as your fiancé was beside you.

"You're doing the right thing, y'know." The woman, who introduced herself as Mrs. Landon, said upon meeting you.

"How do you mean?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

"All god's life is precious." She said, placing a hand on your not-even-remotely-showing-yet stomach. "You're walking in obedience to the lord by giving this child a shot at life."

Strike one: bringing up religion unprompted. Strike two: touching me without asking first.

You wanted to swat her hand away, but remembered that patience was a virtue. She and her husband took a seat across from you.

"Y'know," The man began, his mannerisms eerily similar to those of his wife. "I don't usually begin with the god talk, but I think a higher power had to have been involved in the conception of this- well, our child. I'd like to think the good lord brought us together today."

Strike three: already believes he is entitled to my child. You're outta here.

"Don't flatter the adoption agency like that, Jacob." Hannibal chuckled, placing his teacup on the side table.

"I'm serious, Dr. Lecter." Jacob interjected. "Faith and I really do believe that god put us on this earth to prepare his smallest soldiers for the spiritual war."

You shot Hannibal a side glance that said 'can we please just eat them now?'.

The answer was no. Hannibal liked to play with his food.

"And your adult children have all moved out?" He asked.

"That's right." Jacob nodded. "We have plenty of room in our five-bedroom house for the new little slugger to run around in."

"And if it's a girl!" The wife interrupted. "We have enough closet space for all the denim maxi-skirts money could buy."

Strike four: arbitrarily genders the behavior of a nine-week-old embryo.

The man then returned the teacup to the table, not bothering to use the saucer and instead leaving a nasty ring of condensation on the polished mahogany.

"Okay." Hannibal huffed, resignedly rising from his seat. He pulled two hypodermic needles from his back pocket and carefully, subtly stuck them onto the couples' necks. They couldn't even scream.

The tacos al pastor that followed (after a few days of marinating, of course) were exquisite.

The next week brought a new couple to your doorstep. Frank and Angela, they were named. Their claim to fame was that their oldest son played football for one of those big southern party schools. Either Auburn or Alabama. There was hardly a difference.

You sat for what felt like hours listening to the man speak in unintelligible football babble, waiting for him to take a breath. Surprisingly, it was the mom who got him to finally shut up.

"Frank, please." She said with more frustration than this one situation even remotely warranted. Either she had enough intuition to know she was being tested, or she’d spent the last decade putting up with this. Possibly both. "You're boring our hosts to death."

"What? No way! She loves it!" Frank replied, then turned to you. Not to Hannibal, just you. “Aren’t you having a great time, sweetheart?” 

Strike one: takes advantage of the female socialization to be passive and polite, allowing himself to take up the most space.

You shook your head. “I hate football.” 

His wife looked quite pleased with herself. 

“Angie, I just wanted her to know what good breeding her son is going to have.” He said, without a lick of irony or self-awareness. He eyed you up and down and licked his lips. “And it is mutual, I see.” 

The room went quiet as everyone tried to determine whether he was serious or if it was just a fucked-up joke. The longer the silence lingered, the more you realized he wasn’t kidding. Angela looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“I don’t know what the agency told you, Mr. Wyatt,” Hannibal said, trying not to grit his teeth. “She isn’t a surrogate. She’s already pregnant.” 

Frank’s jaw hung dumbly open. “I thought you were looking for a sperm donor? I just-” 

“No.” You cut him off, raising your hand and covering your face. “I don’t want to know what you thought.” 

“Well, I would!” Angela interjected, righteous fury eclipsing what should have been crippling embarrassment. “What exactly did you think this was, Francis?” 

“The file said that he was over fifty, so I just assumed--” Frank rationalized, his voice far too loud for the room. “Y’know? That she wanted a baby that wouldn’t come out all funny-looking?” 

“You’re disgusting.” You blurted out. 

“Francis Howard Wyatt,” Angela scolded as if she were talking to her son. “You are forty-eight and the only increasing part of your body is your blood pressure. Why on Earth would any woman choose you over her smart, handsome doctor fiancé?”

This made Hannibal sit up a little straighter. He wanted Francis on the butcher’s block yesterday, but he momentarily considered letting Angela live. 

“They’re not married?” Frank whispered, or whatever the loud-aggressive-toxic-masculinity version of whispering was. He paused, as the dead hamster on the wheel powering his brain crept back to life. “That actually makes sense.” 

Angela loudly smacked her hand against her face. “Dr. Lecter, Ms. [L/N], I am so sorry.” 

“It’s quite alright, Mrs. Wyatt.” Hannibal stood up, readying the next batch of needles. “It just makes what I’m about to do easier.” 

It took quite a bit of restraint to not make their deaths hurt, but he made up for it when it came time to carve. He had fun running his fittingly small penis through a meat grinder. Not with any intent to cook it, though. Just because. 

Hannibal wanted to make Francis Wyatt into the least dignified meal imaginable. You quickly recalled going to a friend’s barbeque in Georgia and encountering a horrendously Southern delicacy known as Frito Pie. You proposed the idea to Hannibal, who, after reviling in abject horror at the notion of eating something out of a bag, agreed that it was the most fitting end. He could spare a few pounds of flesh to grind up and make into chili. 

The third week brought yet another couple. They seemed smart enough to realize your invitation wasn't the friendly olive branch the others had interpreted it as. Their healthy skepticism was refreshing, to say the least. Then, you met them: Max and Archie.

"You'll have to forgive my partner's paranoia." Max said upon entering the house. He tugged playfully at Archie's hand. "We watched Get Out recently, so an invitation to the suburbs sounded some alarms in his sleep-deprived brain."

"I love that movie." You chimed in. "It reminds me of my family."

"Oh no." Archie's eyes widened in only half-pretend fear. He shot an I-told-you-so look in his partner's direction. 

"But my favorite horror flick has to be Midsommar." You added. "My friends and I saw a midnight screening and we didn't sleep at all that night."

"But have you seen Hereditary?" Archie posited.

"Of course." You shrugged. "Aster is totally genius."

You made more than just polite conversation with the couple. Max, despite his young age, was a skilled data analyst and day trader. He attributed his success to the hard work of his immigrant parents. Archie was an environmental lawyer and land activist. He was also a bit of a thrill junkie, indulging in everything from scary movies to bungee jumping.

It didn't take long to realize that you wouldn't be eating them. They were far too pleasant of company to eat.

"So when is this baby planning to make its entrance?" Archie asked, gesturing to you. "You don’t look all that pregnant to me."

You put your hand over your slightly-protruding stomach. "Late August, I believe. If everything goes according to plan."

"You're not far along at all, aren’t you?" Max observed. "That gives us plenty of time to prove ourselves to you."

"Believe me." You put up your hand. "You're doing a great job so far."

“If you like horror stories, we might have to indulge you in the last two encounters we had.” Hannibal commented, leaning back comfortably in his chair. That was a good sign. “No blood was spilled, thank god. Would have ruined my carpets. But believe me when I tell you it came very close.” 

The couple laughed along. Archie leaned in like he was about to tell a life-shattering secret. “You wouldn’t believe the hoops we had to jump through to even have the chance to adopt. And I don’t want to say that it’s because we’re an interracial gay couple, but...” 

“Agencies aren’t exactly colorblind.” You finished, via his prompting. 

“She gets it.” Archie pointed to you. “See, Maxie? She agrees with me.” 

Max pushed his glasses up his nose. “I never said I disagreed.” 

You spent the rest of the afternoon waiting for the conversation to take a sharp left turn off a cliff, but it didn’t happen. They were wonderful company; polite, intelligent and articulate. Exactly the kind of people you’d want to see taking care of your child. 

You’d have to look for you next meal elsewhere. 

[godofsexdrugsandrocknroll]

Soul: Power Trip

Yang: *Stretches arms above head, draws classmates attention* So...anybody know why tall, blonde and goofy looks so chill up there?

Pyrrha: *Crosses arms* I'm...uncertain. Jaune was quite instrumental in our takedown of the Grimm at initiation and I have no doubt he'll impress us here as well, but...well perhaps--

Weiss: *Scoffs* Well if he 'flirts' *sarcastic airquotes* as well as he does fight then at least we won't have to wait long for that Winchester oaf to end this.

Pyrrha: *Glares but says nothing*

Ruby: I-I don't really wanna agree with Weiss on this one, but she might be right. Jaune doesn't even carry a weapon.

*Weiss throws up her hands and scowls*

Pyrrha: *Trying to defend Jaune* Even still, Jaune showed a good grasp of group tactics. *Uncertain* Maybe he fights differently than us?

Yang: *Immediately bored* Oh yay. So he's gonna talk his way to a win.

Blake: *Eyes on the stage as Glynda explains* There is more than one way to win a battle, Yang. And to be fair, he doesn't look like he's even remotely worried. *Eyes narrow* He almost looks bored. *To Nora and Ren* Did you two see how he fought in initiation?

Nora: *Grins* Nope! Way too busy crushing Grimm into paste and flyin' around!

Weiss: *Looking really grouchy* Lovely. How interesting--

Ren: *Quietly* He's fast.

Weiss: *Snaps at him* What?

Ren: Jaune. He was fast. Not as fast as Ruby but when the Deathstalker tried to get him with its stinger, Jaune only saw it about two seconds before it would have killed him and he dodged it and directed Pyrrha towards the stinger. *Looks back at the stage* The reflexes, reaction time and speed to pull that off is a bit unnerving, even for a future Huntsman, but it also suggests Jaune knows how to fight.

*The two teams are now quiet, even Weiss who is now actually looking at Jaune*

Cardin: *Sneers* Don't worry too much, Jauney boy. I can't make this painless but it'll definitely be quick. *RDL laughs nearby*

Jaune: *Says nothing, just stands there in his jeans and his bunny hoodie with a long sleeved orange shirt beneath it and white surgical gloves covering his hands, a white surgical mask over his face*

Glynda: --with that said, are there any questions from our combatants?

Jaune: *When Cardin remains silent* Is this an assessment of our skill or a display?

Glynda: *A bit taken aback at the blunt tone* Excuse me?

Jaune: *Sighs tiredly, puts dull blue eyes on Glynda* This fight.

Glynda: *Perturbed* Both, Mr. Arc. But we do not expect to see the full scope of your capabilities as a Huntsman in just one fight, if that's what you're asking.

Jaune: *Just looks back at Cardin, removes his right glove and holds it it in his other hand*

Glynda: If that is all *steps back* then begin!

Cardin: *Shoots forward* Don't worry, bunny boy, I'm sure next fight you'll get to show off all that 'skill' of yours!

*Despite being only a foot away and about to bring his mace down, Cardin isn't fast enough*

Jaune: *Inside only a second or two, Jaune crouches down and moves forward in the same instant and places two fingers on Cardin's neck*

Cardin: The fuck was tha--GGGKKKKKKKKKK!!!!! *Trails off into a scream as his flesh seems to suddenly grow large goosebumps, which rapidly become large bubbles*

*Shocked screams from the audience*

Cardin: *Explodes into a massive shower of gore, his upper half missing and leaving only his legs*

Glynda: *So shocked that she just stares in horror as the students start panicking*

Random Student: Oh gods, h-he killed him!

Random Student #2: Somebody call the headmaster, no the police!

Jaune: *Deeply irritated* Calm down. *People gape and Jaune sighs, leans forward and touches Cardin's blood*

*Instead of frantic screams of terror, disgust and anger there is now dead silence as Cardin brutally reforms and gasps, pales and falls on his ass, crabwalking backwards and beginning to hyperventilate while staring at Jaune*

Jaune: *Melancholy* Still so disgusting. *Puts on glove, to Glynda* That's my win. *Walks off*

Cardin: *Scampers closer to Glynda who's staring at her scroll and then at Cardin, Cardin is suddenly almost polite* T-the hell was that, Arc?

Jaune: *Shoulders slumped* My semblance. It's matter manipulation. Anything I touch I can disassemble or reassemble into anything I want. If I want to destroy, I destroy. If I want to create, I create. If I want to reshape matter into something else, the sky's the limit. *Stops before a pale Pyrrha, a solemn looking Ren with widened eyes and a fidgeting, nervous Nora* Or if I want to revive the dead, I revive the dead. *Shrugs* Family was attacked when I was young. I was hurt. Mother unlocked my aura just in time for me to see some White Fang asshole pulp her skull with his mace. When you're 6 years old and just watched your mother die, the only thing your soul wants is to save her.

*Blake shifts uneasily, looking away while Yang has an arm around a stunned, terrified Ruby's shoulders with a complicated look on her face and Weiss can't stop staring at the boy she dismissed, a hand over her mouth since she was close to vomiting*

Jaune: *Sighs again* Do whatever you want with that information. It makes no difference to me. I'm used to Overhaul.

Weiss: *Shakily* O-Overhaul?

Jaune: *Slouches into a seat* My semblance. It's called Overhaul.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One final post for the day. I like the idea of different semblances and the impact they would have on a character. For those unaware, this is a quirk from My Hero Academia called Overhaul, used by a character of the same name.

I'm well aware it doesn't really work as a semblance since semblances don't really work the same way as quirks; but this is just for fun.

And in this case, I think if Jaune had Overhaul as his semblance, his behavior makes sense. This would be a Jaune who's seen his mother die at a young age, revived her and then since his semblance is tied to his soul and his emotions can effect that (Yang getting angry and activating Burn), he's probably accidentally killed a lot of people, possibly including his family (hence the gloves). So he's just kind of depressed, a bit done with everything, has never really faced any challenges and is a little bit adverse to the messes he makes (I can't imagine getting blood in your mouth being a pleasant experience).

He's no Overhaul, but he's not a fan of the germs. He's also flippant, cold and aloof not to mention big with the reflexes/RT/speed and would be hard to get along with, I think, even if he's the same lovable goof he is in canon beneath layers of trauma.

I could picture either either Nora or Ruby really being the one to help Jaune the most, although I think Yang could be a good enough of a friend after a time to do the same.

[bokutobaes]

I loved the bad day hc it was so gooood🥺 can I get a hc (w the same boys👀) of ur first night over their house?? Bet Atsumu snores like a freight train lmao😭😭😭

first night at the inarizaki boys house :p

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭ .・.

☆- with: suna, atsumu, kita

☆- no warnings!

☆- a/n: this request was soo cute i had so much fun writing this🥺thank u for requesting i really hope you like it <33 and im so happy u enjoyed the bad day headcanons

authors: lu and sen <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭ .・.

☆- suna:

-you were in fact enjoying a nice saturday in your room, pixie lights strung, your favourite show playing and you in a warm fuzzy blanket. it was bliss

-until.. the vibration of your phone shook you from the scene you were watching, and who else would call you on a saturday at 1am

-“hello?”

-“hey”

-“uh whats up”

-“wanna come over.. to sleep”

-“suna- it’s one o clock in the morning”

-“so?”

-“so why would i-”

-“i miss you..”

-your heart just exploded from the fact he just said that

-“say no more okay i’ll be there in 10”

-“okay :)” you could hear suna’s smirk from his voice

-you’d snuck out before in your first year of high school just to hangout with some friends so you knew the basics

-you left a note to your parent(s) saying that you went to a friends house early in the morning because she had a boyfriend emergency

-the things u do for suna🙄

-the way to sunas wasn’t long, he only lived a few streets away so you packed a bag, threw on your comfiest cutest sweats and headed on down

-when you got there suna was already at the door leaning against the frame with his hands stuffed in his black hoodie

-“hi”

-“hi.” he hugged you, “come on it’s cold out” then he grabbed your wrist and with a finger on his lips telling u to tip toe and whisper you headed to his bedroom

-now, you’d definitely been to sunas bedroom before to hangout after school and study and whatnot

-but it now dawned on you that you’ve never stayed the night

-heat rushed to your cheeks

-“so where am I gonna sleep”

-“here?” he said

-“where?”

-“in my bed. you’re sleeping in my bed.”

-“suit yourself, but I kick people in my sleep”

-he scoffed, “and I’ll kick you back tf”

-you guys hopped in the bed and just immediately went on your phones

-but you were in one of those close ass positions where you could see what was on eachothers screens

-so you exchanged tik toks and tweets

-the night was filled with you both trying so hard not to laugh out loud

-you guys rambled on for a long time after seeing a post about astrology

-“i don’t get it.. your saying i’ll be in a bad mood on the 5th of next month because mercury is in gatorade.?”

-did he really just disrespect retrograde like that

-once it was getting really late your eyes started feeling heavy

-you switched your phone off and snuggled deeper into suna’s chest

-you were basically hugging eachother

-suna yawned

-“goodnight y/n”

-“goodnight rin”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭ .・.

☆- atsumu:

-you were already at atsumu’s house, you’d walked there together after school to spend the friday together

-currently you were in osamu’s room with the twins playing “winning eleven”

-why they were so obsessed with this game? you do not know

-but right now you were being betrayed by atsumu

-he told you he’d “go easy on you” since you’ve never played before

-then just abandoned that idea

-“atsumu wtf your not even going a smidge easy on me”

-“hey it’s not my fault yer skills are lacking baby”

-ur about to punch him

-“ok then here” you hand your remote to osamu and cross ur arms scooching away from atsumu

-“wait heyyy hey don’t be like that I was joking” he paused the game

-osamu was literally on his phone at this point

-he smushed your cheeks and you rolled your eyes

-“what time even is it?”

-“10:43” osamu drawled

-“omg it’s late i have to go soon”

-atsumu got up and told you to come his room so you waved to osamu and headed out

-“stay the night”

-“really?”

-“yes really please i don’t want you to leave yet”

-🥺🥺🥺

-“awww tsumu”

-“SHUTUP! are you gonna stay”

-“yes I’ll stay” <3

-he took your face in his hands and kissed you all over

-you shot your parent a text saying you were sleeping at your friends house and then sat on the bed where atsumu was already sprawled out watching something on his phone

-“i don’t have a toothbrush”

-“there’s an extra in the bathroom babe”

-“i don’t have clothes”

-he looked at you

-“i have clothes”

-“aww are you gonna give me your hoo-“

-“nvm go home now”

-LOL

-it was already almost midnight after you had watched some movies on his bed

-you guys got up and brushed ur teeth together

-“next time you’re gonna sleep at my house instead and we’re gonna do face masks”

-you though about tsumu in a panda sheet mask and laughed to yourself

-when you were done washing your face he asked if he could put the moisturizer on for you

-so you sat up on the counter and he was being so gentle🥺 just looking at you

-your cheeks starting feeling hot and atsumu noticed

-“oh embarrassed now are we?” his stupid smirk plastered on his face

-“shutup tsumu” you looked down smiling

-it was half past 12 when you guys finally got in bed and you were honestly tired since it was the end of the week

-atsumu squeezed you tightly from behind and was playing with your hair

-it knocked you out

-“g’night baby”

-“goodnignt tsum”

-(you were not prepared for the snoring that came out of him at 2am but you loved him anyways)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭ .・.

☆- kita:

-this sleepover with kita was actually planned by the two of you

-you wanted to spend time together outside of school and you thought this was a nice idea

-you came over a little before dinner and he was cooking when you got there

-“hi!” you said walking in through the kitchen door

-“hi love” he stopped stirring a pot on the stove and came over to hug you

-he kissed your forehead and asked how you are

-(like he didn’t ask you 1 hour again when you were texting)

-you ate dinner with kita and his grandma, she told stories about kita when he was younger embarrassing him but making you awww out loud

-after dinner you headed to his room, you’d put on something to watch but it ended up just being background noise in a conversation you were having

-“y/n.. did you wanna sleep in the spare bedroom? i want to make sure you’re comfortable”

-“its okay babe i don’t mind sleeping with you”

-so you both were on his bed just looking out the window together, now that it was later you’d switched from watching tv to sharing earphones and looking out the window at the stars

-a song came on, something soft and gentle playing through your ears

-“wanna dance?” kita said looking at you with a smile

-heart combusted

-“of course”

-you got up and he grabbed your hip, hand in hand you two just swayed slowly looking at eachother

-both your cheeks burned but you were so happy that you were here with him right now

-now you’d been dancing for a few minutes and your face was in the crook of his neck

-you were both starting to get a bit tired but then you remembered the face masks you’d brought in your bag

-“kita..! we should do face masks”

-“face masks?”

-“yep! i brought some. let’s go”

-leading him to the bathroom you started to put the sheet mask on him

-the fox imprint on the mask made you laugh being on kitas face

-you two looked so silly, a fox and a panda in pyjamas on a saturday night

-after taking a few photos the masks were done and you washed up for bed together

-it felt like taking a look into the future

-soo domestic

-sleep came really easy that night, you lay on kitas chest and rambled for a bit before you noticed he had fallen asleep

-poor bb probably tired from volleyball practice

-you fell asleep soon after right after kissing him on the cheek

[nh20tensin]

Telling the AoT boys you love them for the first time.

⚠️There should be little too no spoilers⚠️

Mostly fluff

Gn reader

None of this is has been proof read

Ft. Levi Ackerman,Connie springer,Armin arlert

Levi Ackerman

We all know that this man is touch-starved so it was hard enough for him to let you even Remotely close in anyway

He would probably deny the fact that he care for you

He wouldn’t know that he loved you till  you said something about it

It was a cleaning day you decided to help Levi and his squad clean (this man forced you to clean)

You didn’t mind I mean as long as you were with him

You knew you loved him for some time,you just didn’t know how to tell him or in fear that he would hate you(who knows why he would) but you only thought about worst case scenarios

“Oí “

“.....”

“Oí”

“....”

“BRAT”

“Huh?”

“What the hell are you doing”

You gave him a confused look

He points down to your feet

You were sweeping with the dust collector facing the opposite way so that no dust is going into the pan

“Oh shit sorry”

“Just pick it up “Levi spoke

The rest of the day went by

It was dinner time you Decided to sit with eren,Armin,jean,and Connie

(The girls where training)

“Yo is she even listen to us “ a buzz-cut boy said

“ probably not” said Jean

Eren threw a small carrot at you

“😐”

“You were zoning out” a blonde boy said

“I’m not really myself right now....I’m going to go to bed”

They all nodded and told you goodnight and bye

On your way to your room you bumped into hange

“AHHH SORRY IM IN A RUSH” they said

“It’s alright are you ok?”

“I’m fin-“

They stoped talking you gave them a confused look

“Why’d you sto-“

They put a finger on over your mouth

5 mins pass the finger hasn’t left

“Sorry i thought I heard something ”

The finger moved

“Thought you where in a rush “you said as you walked hange followed

“Never mind that what’s up with you?”

“Nothing.............How do I tell someone I love them”

(Ofc you would eventually regret asking hange but desperate times call for desperate measures😪)

“oh”

“Oh” 

“OOHHH”

“YOU LOVE LEV-“

You cover their mouth

“Shut up or I will Carve ur eyes out”

Hange nodded

“Will if you really Want my opinion....just don’t make it a big deal”

“Why Not”

“You shouldn’t have to make it special ,anyway if you really do love him and just tell him “

Knowing Levi he would hate it if you made it a big deal so you took the advice and made up your mind

One week passed and you finally thought of the perfect way to tell him

You would make him his favorite tea(you aren’t allowed to make his tea considering you suck at it)

” what did you do” he said in a stern voice

You walk over to his desk and sigh

“ I have something to tell you and besides my tea skills aren’t that bad”

“ last time I drank it I ended up in bed for a week”

“I promise it’s better just trust me” 

He reluctantly put the cup to his mouth and drank

“I love you “you said

He almost sit out his tea he didn’t know what to say or do

How could someone so perfect love someone so....him

“What did you say” he said

You repeated yourself

You climbed in his lap

“I love you Levi Ackerman “

God he loved the way you said his name

He didn’t know what to say but what he did say broke your heart

“Why” he said in a voice below a whisper

“What do you mean why?”

His hand found his way to your waist his face hidden in the crook of your neck

“Why me ?”

You knew he could get insecure but it still hurt

“ Levi I knew from the minute I saw you that I would love you for the rest of my life and I don’t wanna rush you to say back to me because quite frankly I know how hard it is for you but I’m telling you now because this is how I feel you are the one for me no one else do you understand me please say you do”

All memories he thought he forgotten about his mother came flooding back in

And you could’ve sworn you felt a tear but when you looked there was nothing

He looked dead in your eyes and said

“I love you too” in a very soft voices he gave you a rare smile

You brought him in for a very long and meaningful kiss

“Hange Made the tea by the way “

“I know”

Connie springer

 A relationship with this man can be one of two things very fun and chaotic or more serious and loving

Which ever version you happen to be in it won’t matter because it will always be happy

“Hey Connie have you told y/n you love them yet”

He froze up and realized that he never actually told you though he was in love with you he just never thought about telling you because he thought you knew

“What’s it you you horse face”

“Nothing....it’s just The two of you have been dating for six months I’d start to feel a little self-conscious if you asked me”

“Well I didn’t so stop “

Jean and Sasha stay laughing

“CADETS IN LINE” Levi yelled

The next day

“Hey Armin if I hypothetically possibly maybe was in love with someone how would I tell them?”you said while looking at the ground

“ well it really just depends on the person and how far along in the relationship you are with them I can’t really help you how to tell them but I sure can encourage you”

You roll your eyes and sigh

“Thank anyways”

You walk back inside considering you were training outside with Armin(obviously beat him because you’re a bad ass)

You ran into Connie right now I’m going inside you both fell to the ground stared at each other and started laughing like you’ve never laughed before you were mainly laughing because you were nervous as hell to tell him you loved him he was laughing because he loves the smile that was on your face

you both helped each other get back up Connie looked at you and ask

“were you training”

“ depends what answer do you want to hear”

“....”

“....”

“Fine I was “you admit

“ it’s 11 at night”

“ and your point is”

” at the rate you’re going you’re going to end up dead by the time you’re 25”you said sarcastically

“ as if you’d be able to live without me though”

You froze didn’t know what to say or do you just nervously laughed it off and walked away

 he looked at a very confused but I thought you needed space considering you just got done training it was dark out you’re probably tired he thought

It’s around two in the morning you wake up something inside you just burst so you get up out of your room and find your way to Connie‘s room you knock fiercely

“ Open the door Baldy”you say sternly but in the soft voice

“ what are you doing it’s like two in the morning you should go to sleep “he said while opening the door

you force yourself into his room and sit down on his bed

He followed you confused on why you were here but he just stared at you not wanting to say anything basking in your beauty

“ Connie I’m about to say something that I might regret well not regret but do you know where I’m going with us”

“Huh”

“I love you “

his eyes shoot open he thought this has to be a dream right there’s no way that this is real

You pinch his arm so he knows he’s not dreaming

“ say it again”

He couldn’t help but smile so much that he felt like his face was gonna melt

At first he thought he was looking at you in disgusted minutes later it was a face of happiness and he was proud in his own kind away

“I L/N F/N AM IN LOVE WITH YOU CONNIE SPRINGER”

“ I love you too but you know I was supposed to tell you first”

“Oh?”

“ this whole thing with Jean and Sash and our relationship”

“It’s.a long story” 

He brought you in for a tight hug that ended up in a very intense make out session

The both of you woke up in his bed in the morning he looked at him and he woke up

“I love you”

“I love you”

You both said in unison and you ended up laughing you both really did love each other and it was a funny love story . 

Armin arlert

As smart as Armin is he has no idea what to do when it comes to a relationship

True he wants to give you all the love in the world but he’s clueless when it comes to things like that but he will know when he’s in love with you

He will go to Mikasa, Eren,hell even Levi if he will listen

“ listen kid I don’t know what to tell you all right do you love them just tell them I don’t see what’s wrong with it”Levi said while drinking tea

“ but sir it’s not that easy what if they doesn’t feel the same way”Armin spoke

Levi sighs not really knowing what to do

“ The two of you are dating right so of course they feel the same way”

“Damn kids and their commitment issues”he muttered under his breath

Armin saluted him before exiting the room

His mind was in 1000 different places having no idea what to say to you so we did the next best thing any person would

He ignored you

(Asshole)

He didn’t want to ignore you or make you feel bad he’s just caught up in his own brain to actually think about anything

It’s been a week since you guys last talk

“ i’m sure he doesn’t hate you he’s been ignoring us to” eren said

Mikasa nodded

“ it’s been a week did I do something wrong is he mad at me?”

“ even if he was he wouldn’t take it out on all of us at the same time” Mikasa stated

you take a deep breath and sigh

“ The both of us will try and figure out what’s happening OK can’t promise you like the answer though” eren said

“Ok...”

The both of them left the room

Little did you know Armin was listening in the whole conversation he wanted to make it up to you just didn’t know how

” I don’t hate them” armin said

Eren then said “ then why are you ignoring them and us they don’t deserve this”

Eren was pissed off because he knew how much you were hurting

“ seriously Armin there’s no need to lie you’re mad at her just tell them I’m sure they will understand besides you’re also ignoring us did we do anything?” The tall girl spoke

“I love them”

“😮” Mikasa and eren

They spent the rest of the day talking about his feelings and how he should make it up to you or more importantly tell you

“ just follow us it’s not a trap or anything”eren said (this bitch it was FYI)

Mikasa used her scarf to cover up her giggles

“ can I just sleep in peace”

“NO!”

You couldn’t really tell who said it as you saw Armin standing right in front of you

You turn around to see no one‘s behind you those bastards left the room before you could even check

“ look if you’re mad at me I don’t know what I did but I don’t really feel like talking anymore I just want to go to bed please”

“Wait now please I’m sorry i’ve had a lot on my mind I just needed time on my own”

“ and you couldn’t tell me or let me know not even Eren or Mikasa you’ve noticed all week do you know how bad I felt thinking that I did something wrong ”

There was a moment of silence you saw that look in his eyes the one that made you fall madly in love with him you couldn’t be mad at him you loved him and everything you were pissed about steered clear

“ I love you more than I probably should if you were anybody else I’d probably kill you right now”

He looked up from the ground he was staring at

“What “

it didn’t take him long to understand the situation

“I love you too in fact I love you more that’s what I’ve been thinking about all week and how to tell you”

You both ran to each other in a hug tears falling down his eyes making you want to cry as well you really did love each other

The next day

“ i’m guessing you finally told them” Levi said

“ yes Captain thank you for your advice” as he saluted him

“ don’t thank me you’re the one who grew a pair and finally told them”



[everlarkficexchange]

Hanging in the Balance

Written by: @ameliaodair

Prompt #29:  I want to request a fic where Katniss and Peeta almost lose their first child and it makes their love and relationship even stronger.  [submitted by anonymous]

The prompt pretty much says it all.  On their way to visit Katniss’s mother, Katniss, Peeta, and their daughter fight for their lives.  When Peeta wakes from the devastating crash, his life— and Katniss’s are forever changed as their sweet, baby girl has the fight of her life, with her life hanging in the balance.

Thanks to the amazing @taylerwrites for her magical beta skills!

Rated T for difficult situations

Warnings: (almost) losing a child

Hanging in the Balance

“How long has it been since the last time we saw your mother?” Keeping his eyes focused on the road and his hands firmly gripped on the steering wheel, Peeta glanced over to Katniss, his beautiful wife of six years.

“I don’t know, maybe …  Actually, I think the last time we saw her was just after Prim was born; oh my god, I can’t believe it’s been that long.  Oh, Peeta, did you rem—” Katniss tensed up, thinking they had forgotten an important item on their checklist.

“Calm down, Katniss. Trust me,” Peeta gave his wife a charming, yet reassuring smile and reached for her hand. “I went over the list three times before we even left the house, and then once more after loading the car up.  We didn’t forget a single thing.  And if, by chance, there is something we forgot, I’m sure it can be duplicated at the nearest department store.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Katniss murmured, catching a glimpse of the back of their daughter’s head before slowly relaxing into the passenger seat next to her husband.

“In fact, I’m almost certain we brought enough stuff with us to stay for a year,” Peeta gently joked with his wife, in hopes of easing her nerves.  He knew the real reason for Katniss’s high-strung demeanor, and her incessant need to be in complete control.  She had lost her younger sister when she was just a little girl and it nearly broke her.  Peeta still wasn’t convinced she had recovered from that loss. 

Katniss and Peeta were childhood sweethearts.  While Peeta knew from the moment he entered his kindergarten classroom that he was destined to be with the beautiful girl with the stunning grey eyes,  raven-colored braids down either side of her face, and a voice that could bring a stuttering, toothpaste-stained shirt little boy to his knees, it took Katniss a little longer.  It required some convincing, but Peeta was persistent and finally, at seven-years-old, Katniss accepted his friendship-invitation.  And the lovesick fool that Peeta was decided he would take what he could get.  So, for years, they were friends— best friends. 

Peeta was there the day Katniss’s sister, Prim, died.  He had sat next to Katniss, gripping her hand like a lifeline while they stood vigil by Prim’s bedside, and watched as she took her final breaths.  And it broke him too, but not like Katniss.  She was devastated beyond belief— for so long.  And for so many years after that devastating tragedy, Katniss vowed to never have children … she could not bear to love another person with so much of her heart, only to have them ripped from her life.  They dated for five years before she finally agreed to marry him.  And then it was another four years before she agreed, and quite apprehensively, to try for a family.

“I think I’m going to get off at the next stop for some gas and we can stretch our legs.  It’ll be nighttime soon and I’d rather you guys not wander around in the dark in some backwoods city I don’t know.”

“You worry too much, Peeta,” Katniss chided, taking Peeta’s hand and entwining their fingers.  She brought their conjoined hands up to her lips and placed a kiss against the crest of his knuckles.  That’s why they were perfect together— because they balanced each other out.  When one was overcome with fear and anxiety, the other was always there to level the other one out.

Peeta got off at the next exit and followed the signs to the nearest gas station, which was less than a mile away.

“Don’t go to the Shell, go to SHEETZ,” Katniss pleaded with her husband when she saw the direction he was headed.

“Why?  Shell has better gas.”

“SHEETZ has cleaner bathrooms.  Please baby,” Katniss whined, knowing the use of the pet name, in addition to giving him the wide, puppy-dog-eyes would be enough to melt his hesitation.

“Okay,” he conceded, “Anything for my girls,” he gave Katniss’s hand another squeeze as he stopped at the four-way intersection and then gently accelerated on the gas when he saw the coast was clear.  Ever since their daughter, Prim was born, Peeta drove like an old man instead of a man in his late twenties— precious cargo and all.

“PEETA!!!!!” Katniss screamed when a set of headlights came barreling straight for them.

    “Mr. Mellark?  Mr. Mellark, can you hear me?” Peeta opened his eyes and tried to sit up.  “Mr. Mellark, how many fingers am I holding up?” The uniformed man asked him as he waved his fingers in front of his face and shined a flashlight into his eyes.

“Three.  Where’s my wife?  Where is Prim?” Peeta responded, shoving the medic’s hand out of his face as he attempted to sit up again.  “Where am I?” Peeta demanded, turning his head from side to side, surveying the small space he was in and called for his wife, “Katniss?” But she wasn’t anywhere in sight; as far as he could see, he was alone in the ambulance with these three strangers— medics.

“Sir, please calm down.  You were in an accident.  My name is Pollux and I am a paramedic.  You have sustained some rather severe injuries.  We are rushing you and your family to the nearest hospital.”

Adrenaline flooded Peeta’s veins, his heart accelerated until he was fuming, “WHERE is my wife and my daughter?  Where are they?  Are they okay? Please, you have to tell me,” he demanded, oblivious to the steadily increasing beeping in the background and needing some answers before his anxiety consumed him.

“They were air-lifted from the scene of the accident; we should be arriving at the hospital any moment now.  We’ll know more upon arrival,” Pollux offered sympathetically and craned his neck to his shoulder to speak into the microphone attached to his uniform, “Hey Castor, what’s our ETA?”

Peeta didn’t realize there was already an IV connected into his arm, or that the paramedic injected something into it, which was the reason everything went black.

2 days later:

“Well!  There are those marvelous blue eyes I have been hearing about!  Good morning Mr. Mellark, my name is Dr. Trinket.”

When Peeta opened his eyes, everything was fuzzy at first.  He blinked a few times until his vision slowly adjusted, and this Dr. Trinket came into view.  She was a beautiful doctor, there was no denying that.  Probably in her mid to late thirties with short, curly, blonde hair— so blonde it almost looked pink … and she was in the traditional hospital scrubs you normally see doctors wearing.  

  ‘Seriously, bright pink scrubs?’ Peeta thought, wondering if he could go blind just by looking at her for too long.

“Can you tell me your name and date of birth?” Dr. Trinket asked him, shining a light into his eyes.  “Good, good.  Pupils are equal and reactive.”

Peeta recited his name and birthday for Dr. Trinket, and she nodded, satisfied with his response.  “Do you know where you are?”  Dr. Trinket asked, checking his reflexes.

“Um … a hospital?” Peeta thought that seemed obvious.

“And do you recall the circumstances that brought you here?”

Peeta closed his eyes and tried to pull the memory from his mind, only to come up empty.

“Mr. Mellark, you were in an accident,” Dr. Trinket began filling in the blanks for him, “You suffered a slight concussion in addition to a hairline fracture to your femur.  After assessment upon your arrival to Tribute Center Regional Medical Facilities, you were rushed into surgery to repair your injuries.  You have a splint on your leg and should heal just fine.  I foresee a speedy recovery as long as you stay off your legs.  Do you have any questions for me?”

Flashes came sputtering back, hitting the back of  his eyelids like one of those slow, stop-motion picture films from Dr. Trinket’s words. “M-my w-wife and daughter—” Peeta croaked, his voice still dry and hoarse from days of not using it.

“Nurse, nurse, can we please get Mr. Mellark some form of oral hydration to quench his thirst?” Dr. Trinket pressed the call button on the remote by his bed and spoke into the intercom, “I bet you are just parched, aren’t you Mr. Mellark?” As upbeat and gregarious as the lovely Dr. Trinket appeared to be, he was not fooled by her deflection.

Before he had the opportunity to ask about his family again, a woman with kind eyes entered the room, carrying a styrofoam pitcher of water, a small tower of cups, and a handful of straws.  She poured Peeta a cup of water and offered it to him.

“Thank you,” Peeta smiled at the woman, who returned his smile, and then disappeared from the room just as quickly as she entered.

Peeta took a long sip of water through the straw and wasn’t sure anything had ever tasted so good in his life.  But then he met Dr. Trinket’s eyes and asked the question that was looming over them once again, “My wife?  My daughter?  K-Katniss and Primrose Mellark?”

Dr. Trinket’s face fell, and then she looked at him with so much pity, which only compelled Peeta to immediately jump to conclusions.

“No, no, they can’t be!” He cried, covering his face with his hands.

“Oh, no!  No, no, my apologies Mr. Mellark.  Your wife currently rests in a medically induced coma.  She had some minor swelling on her brain, so the doctors felt it was necessary to allow her body adequate time to heal.  She should be waking at any moment and her prognosis is optimistic!”

Peeta took another sip of water and braced himself for what came next, “And P-Primrose, m-my daughter?” Peeta faltered, afraid of her response.  She was barely two years old; if he and Katniss were injured this badly, what happened to her?  She was so tiny, she was—

“Your daughter’s—”

“Prim,” Peeta insisted.  If his daughter’s condition was as critical as he feared, he would not allow the staff in this hospital to treat her as another ‘number’.  He’d heard of horror stories and patients being neglected because of arrogant doctors.  No, they would call her by her name.

“My apologies; Prim is in the pediatric intensive care unit.  I do not know much about her case, but your daughter’s doctor will stop by shortly with an update on her status.  I shall page him now to inform him that you are finally conscious.  His name is Dr. Abernathy.”

“Okay,” Peeta nodded.

“I must warn you Mr. Mellark, Dr. Abernathy may come off a bit abrasive, his bedside manner needs much work, but—"

“Is he good?  Will he save my baby?” Peeta implored; he could care less about the doctor’s bedside manner, all he cared about was if the man was good at his job.  All he cared about was if he could save his baby girl.

“I may be a bit bias … but yes.  He is the best.  It is a fact that he is a world-renowned critical care pediatric surgeon.  You will not find a more qualified physician in all of Panem.”

“O-okay, that’s good,” Peeta stuttered, feeling more optimistic as Dr. Trinket walked toward the door.

  “Um … Dr. Trinket, if you don’t mind me asking, but why are you biased towards this doctor?”

“He is my husband,” Dr. Trinket answered proudly. “Oh, and please call me Effie, ‘Doctor Trinket’ is my mother … and besides, it makes me sound so old!”

  “Mr. Mellark, I’m Haymitch,” a man with scruffy blonde hair covering his eyes strutted into the room.  He had a white coat just like the other doctors Peeta had seen cruising the hallways, but this man looked far from any doctor he had ever met.  Sure, he had the arrogance the other doctors seemed to have in spades, but he did not share the chiseled and clean-shaven faces he had witnessed on some of the other medical staff.  He looked up, and above the breast pocket of this man’s jacket, the name, Dr. H. Abernathy, was inscribed in elegant script onto his coat.

So, this was Dr. Abernathy, Peeta thought.  “It’s— it’s Peeta.  Y-you have news about my daughter?”

“Yes, Primrose Ellis Mellark, twenty-six-month female,” Haymitch began, flipping through his notes.  Then he dragged a chair across the room, its legs scraping against the floor, finally planting it next to Peeta’s bed before he took a seat in it— backwards.  Dr. Abernathy— Haymitch put his notes away and crossed his arms over the back of the chair to look Peeta in the eye.

Yes, this was unlike any doctor I’ve ever come across before, Peeta thought to himself, but not necessarily in a bad way.

“Mr. Mellark, Peeta, I ain’t gonna lie to ya, yer little girl is in pretty bad shape.  Thankfully, she was properly strapped in the car seat, and rear-facing at that— which is what will probably save her life.  Most parents don’t follow the PAP guidelines—”

  “I’m sorry, what is PAP?”

  “Oh, my bad— I mean … sorry.  It’s the Panem Academy of Pediatrics— you know, the guidelines— uh, the riff-raff of all the do’s and don'ts pertaining to childcare and whatnot.  Anyhow, most parents turn their kids around before it’s time so they can see them … but uh— yeah— she’s beat up pretty bad, we’ve removed all the shards of glass from her skin and stitched up all the residual lacerations.” Peeta cringed at the doctor’s extensive description of his daughter.  “She suffered some internal damage to her organs—”

“When c-can I see her?” Peeta stammered, interrupting the doctor and fighting back tears that were threatening to spill over.

“Soon.  I’ll have someone page your nurse once she’s stabilized, and then we’ll get someone to bring ya up there.  Ya got any other questions?” Haymitch asked Peeta, squirming to get out of the chair.

“Has … has anyone told Katniss— my wife?”  Peeta warily asked the doctor.  Part of him was hoping that Haymitch had already told her, while deep inside he knew it had to be him to deliver this crushing blow.

“No, not yet.  I have to round on a few patients and then I’ll be stoppin’ by her room.”

Peeta gulped, “Would it—”

“Sure kid, it’s all yours.  It’ll save me the trouble of havin’ to do it,“ Haymitch gruffed.

Geez, Dr. Trinket wasn’t kidding about his bedside manner, Peeta silently ruminated, all the while, wondering how in the world those two were married.

  “Katniss? Katniss, baby, can you hear me?” One of the nurses hunted down a wheelchair and rolled Peeta into Katniss’s room.  The sight of her broke his heart.  She was lying there, unconscious and connected to an assortment of tubes and wires.  As he sat by Katniss’s side, he found comfort in the steady beep, beep of her heart monitor, which he hoped was a good sign.  He reached for her hand, holding it in his own, and closed his eyes, silently willing her to wake up.

I … I can’t do this alone; please Katniss, please wake up, with a quivering lip, he silently pleaded to her.

“Shouldn’t she be awake by now?” Peeta looked up and asked the nurse.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Mellark, but it isn’t an exact science.  Patients can wake up anywhere between a few hours, to a few days once they’re weaned off the medication.”  Katniss’ nurse, Annie informed him with a sympathetic smile.

“It’s okay, I understand.” Although Peeta was frustrated, he knew it wasn’t Annie’s fault and forced a smile to his lips.

Peeta wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he first arrived in Katniss’s room.  He had already twice refused to return to his own room; he didn’t care about himself.  All they wanted him to do in his room was rest, and he was perfectly capable of doing that from the comfort of his wife’s room, if not better.  If he went back to his room all he would do is worry; at least in Katniss’s room, which was just across the hall, he could attempt getting a little rest.

“Mr. Mellark?” Annie slowly crept into the room.  Peeta had fallen asleep in the chair next to Katniss’s bed, the cramp in his neck proof of the poor position he was in.

He jerked up when he heard Annie’s voice. “I know you don’t want to leave her side, but Doctor— I mean Haymitch just called and said we could bring you up to see your daughter.  Would you like to—”

Peeta jolted up from his chair, forgetting about the injury to his leg for a moment until the pain shot up his spine.

“Oh no, no, no, I will get your wheelchair and take you up there.  You wouldn’t make it to the elevators,” Annie smiled.

Annie rolled his wheelchair in from outside the room and wheeled Peeta to the PICU floor.

“So, does everyone call Dr. Abernathy by his first name?” Peeta tried to fill the uncomfortable silence with small talk.

Annie chuckled from behind him. “Yeah.  He and Dr. Trinket— Effie; they don’t like formalities.  They claim it helps eliminate the doctor/patient barrier; something about trust and bonding.” Peeta nodded and thought, ‘Yeah, I guess that makes sense.’

“Okay, I guess … I can see that.  Have you worked here long?  Do you know … is he a good doctor?” Peeta hoped he wasn’t being too intrusive, he just needed to know if Haymitch was as qualified to care for his daughter as Effie claimed.

“Haymitch?  Oh, yes … he’s the best.  If it were my son lying in a hospital bed— no matter where in the world I was, I would want Haymitch as his doctor.  Heck, I would gladly pay him whatever he wanted and have him flown to whatever corner of the world I was in.”

“Wow, that’s … impressive.  So, you have a son?”

“Yes, Nick is four years old,” Annie stopped and flipped her name badge over, stretching it out in front of Peeta’s line of sight to reveal a picture of a little boy with the greenest eyes, and wavy, sun kissed golden-blonde hair.

“He’s adorable … he’s going to be a heartbreaker when he’s older,” Peeta smiled, his heart aching to hold his own daughter.

“Thank you.  His name is Finnick— well, Finnick Junior, after his father, but we just call him Nick.  Oh, look!  We’re here!”

Annie wheeled him into the PICU and spoke with one of the nurses who helped him to the “Scrub Room.”  ‘Johanna’ first demonstrated the process of “scrubbing down,” which meant vigorously washing your hands with a medical scrub brush that contained a special, hospital-grade antiseptic soap.  When it was his turn, Peeta “scrubbed” for exactly three minutes while Johanna stood over him, observing with her stopwatch in hand throughout the entire process.  On the one hand, it made him feel self-conscious, but on the other hand, he was glad the staff was this precise.  Then she checked his temperature, because, under no circumstances was anyone permitted to enter the unit with a temperature above 100.3.  The last step was donning a sterile gown, gloves, and a facial mask before finally being allowed to see his daughter.

  “So, if someone leaves and comes right back just a few minutes later, they have to do this all over again?” Peeta asked Johanna.

  “Every single time—no exceptions.  Hospital policy—or, well, Haymitch’s policy,” Johanna chuckled.

Prim looked so tiny in the incubator she was lying in, it reminded him of the ones you see premature babies in.  It brought back memories of the day Katniss gave birth to their daughter, Peeta, silently thanking the heavens that his and Katniss’s newborn baby was full-term and healthy.  He just hoped luck was on their side this time, too.

Peeta’s entire body quivered with trepidation when his eyes landed on his daughter.  Prim was covered in stitches— they stretched across her entire body; on her arms, legs, her chest, and covered a majority of her face and head.  It looked like they even had to shave a portion of her hair to place some of the stitches.  She had IVs inserted in both her arms, a tube down her throat, and a tiny nasal cannula blowing oxygen into her nostrils.  Peeta’s eyes began to sting from the sight of his beautiful Primrose, and the closer he inched toward her, the harder his eyes stung.  Until finally, the dam broke, and the tears began pouring from his eyes, followed by uncontrollable sobs escaping his entire body.

“Oh, Primmie baby, I am so sorry.  Daddy is so sorry; do you hear me?” Peeta cried to his little girl.

“Is she … will she make it?  Do you think— can she— will she survive this?” Peeta looked up, meeting the nurse’s eyes, and wiping his face with the back of his sleeve.

“I honestly cannot give you a definitive answer Mr. Mellark.  These little ones tend to have a mind of their own.  Right now, it’s kind of touch and go.  I would say that if she makes it through the night, then she’s got a standing chance.  But I’m going to tell you something, I’ve seen babies much worse than your daughter bounce right back, but— on the flip side, I’ve seen others with barely any injuries—” Her words trailed off, hesitant to complete her sentence, but Peeta knew what she meant.

They didn’t make it.  Peeta sucked in a breath, mustering all the courage he had to be strong for his daughter.  What would he do if Prim di— if she … he couldn’t even think the word without his chest feeling as if thousand-pound bricks were smothering him.

“Why is that? What makes the difference?” He forced the words out.  If Prim was to survive this, he needed to know.

“I think … Now, this is just my opinion, but I truly believe it depends on how hard they’re willing to fight.  Their will, their drive to live.  Right now, I would say, and perhaps this does nothing to ease your mind, but … hope and pray.  As a veteran PICU nurse, I truly believe in the power of prayer.  Talk to your daughter and let her know that you are waiting for her; that you are counting on her to survive this.” Peeta nodded, understanding what the nurse meant.  “Give that beautiful little girl something to fight for,” Prim’s nurse finished with a kind smile.

“What was your name again?  I’m sorry, I didn’t catch it, and how long will you be Prim’s nurse?”

“My name is Portia Rose, and I’ll be here all night,” the kind nurse replied, with an equally as kind smile.  Peeta wondered if it was fate that brought them together.  His daughter, named after Katniss’s lost sister, and this ‘Portia Rose,’ their names having an uncanny similarity.

  “Peeta, Peeta what happened?” Katniss croaked, knowing something was wrong the moment her eyes opened and her husband’s tear-streaked face came into focus.

“Katniss, there was an accident.  What is the last thing you remember?”

“I remember, we were going to the gas station … you wanted to stop before it got dark.  We … we were on our way to see Mom … and then … and then … Peeta, what happened?  Where is Prim?” Katniss asked, pushing herself up with her hands to straighten her position in the bed.

Water pooled in Peeta’s eyes and he bit down on the inside of his cheek to stop the flow of tears.  He had to be strong for Katniss, he couldn’t show weakness, not yet.  Not now. 

  Peeta poured Katniss a cup of water and handed it to her. “Here sweetie, I bet you’re thirsty.”

Katniss took the cup and pulled the water into her mouth, “Peeta, you’re scaring me.  W-what happened?”

“Katniss, we were in an accident; w-we were hit head-on by a drunk driver.”

Katniss felt the heat spread through her face, and then slowly, it radiated to the tips of her fingers and toes.  “And Prim?” She asked hesitantly, suddenly feeling nauseous and dizzy.

“She’s okay for right now.  The doctors are taking really good care of her.”

“Okay, that’s good.  That’s really good,” Katniss smiled.  Peeta could see the tears welling up in her eyes and knew she was biting down on the inside of her cheek to quell her tears as she nodded.  He instantly knew that something wasn’t right; this was the opposite of how Katniss should have reacted.  His Katniss would be screaming, throwing a fit— demanding to get out of the hospital bed, adamant to see her daughter.  But this was more like … like denial.  He saw this once before … when her father died.  Granted, that was years and years ago when they were barely teenagers.

Peeta observed Katniss for a few hours, occasionally leaving to check on his daughter.  He knew the staff in the PICU were taking exceptional care of his daughter, and something told him his wife needed him more.  After his most recent visit to Prim in the PICU, he made sure that Portia knew how to reach him in case … in case she needed him.

When Katniss was given “out of bed” privileges, she walked around the room, cheerful and full of smiles as she chatted jubilantly with her mother on the phone.  She acted as if their daughter’s life wasn’t hanging in the balance just a few floors above them.

“Mom’s on her way Peeta, she should be here tomorrow,” Katniss informed Peeta after placing her phone on the bedside table.

Concerned for his wife’s emotional stability, Peeta spoke with one of Katniss’ nurses to find out when he could take her to their daughter.

���I don’t see why it should be a problem, she does seem to be basking in the river of ‘De Nile’,” Dr. Cinna noted, trying to lighten the mood.  “Perhaps seeing Primrose with her own eyes will open her mind to the truth,” Peeta smiled, shaking Dr. Cinna’s hand; he was the first one to refer to their daughter by her name unprompted, and Prim wasn’t even his patient.  It was at this time that Peeta decided that he liked Dr. Cinna— that he was perhaps his favorite doctor as of yet.  Dr. Cinna provided Peeta with a wheelchair for Katniss, after first making sure Peeta’s legs were strong enough to haul her to the elevator.

“Come on Katniss, let’s go see our girl,” Peeta suggested, rolling the wheelchair up to Katniss’ bedside.

“Okay, sure.  Mom’s on her way Peeta, she should be here tomorrow.”

“That’s good Katniss, I’m glad,” Peeta tried to feign enthusiasm.  He frowned, wondering if she realized she just told him this only minutes ago.

Peeta wheeled his wife to the elevators and then pushed the “12” button that would deliver them to the PICU unit.  He followed the arrows and pressed the button on the intercom, waiting patiently for someone to answer them.  Johanna immediately recognized him, and took them through the same procedure from earlier of scrubbing down, a temperature check, and donning the sterile gown, gloves, and mask before Johanna led them to their daughter.

“Peeta, what— what are we doing here?  I thought you were taking me to Prim?” Katniss asked, all traces of joy disintegrating as she was wheeled to Prim’s bedside.

“Katniss, honey— this is—”

“Oh, baby!  Prim, baby, oh my God, what, how—” Katniss’ eyes filled with tears as she craned her neck up to meet Peeta’s eyes.

“No, no.  NO!” Katniss screamed, standing up from her wheelchair, glaring daggers at Peeta.  “NO, this is NOT happening!”  Katniss shrieked, bolting from the room.  Peeta did not follow her, he knew she needed time.  The wheelchair was only precautionary, Katniss’s main injury was the concussion, which had healed during her medically induced coma.

He pulled a chair up to his daughter’s bedside, stuck his gloved hand inside the isolette and began to stroke her tiny hand.  He needed her to know he was here for her and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet baby girl.  My beautiful, beautiful, Primrose; Mommy, and Daddy are here for you and we’re not going anywhere, do you hear me?  Mommy is just scared right now, and she will be back really soon.  Oh, Primmie— we love you so, so much and we need you to get better.  Oh, Prim; I know you probably don’t know this, or understand it, but you are the light of our lives.  You have to get better, okay?  Please fight, Primrose; you have to fight.  I don’t think Mommy would survive if we lost you, I don’t know if I would survive.  I know that’s a lot of pressure to put on such a little girl, but … but—” Peeta closed his eyes, held his head down, and did something he hadn’t done since he was a boy. 

He prayed.

“If there is anyone out there who can hear me, anyone at all, I—” Peeta began, pleading with the powers that be as he sniffled, wiping his eyes with his free arm.  “Please save my girl, she is my world, my everything.  And— and my wife— Katniss needs her Primrose.  I’ll do anything; if it’s a life you want— or need, take mine instead.  Prim is just a baby; she hasn’t had time to live yet.  She still needs her first day in kindergarten, her first best friend—a first boyfriend and a first heartbreak.  I’ve lived, I’ve had all those things and more.  I’ve lived a happy life, but please, just please, don’t take my girl.”

“Prim …” Peeta began after a moment, hoping to reach out to the sister Katniss lost so many years ago, “if you’re out there, and you can hear me, please … please look over our girl.  Please, don’t … you can’t take her, it’s not her time,” Peeta sniffed again, his head perking up from the sound of footsteps behind him.

“Mr. Mellark?” It was Dr. Abernathy— Haymitch, looking no worse for the wear.

“Hi, Dr. Aber—”

“Haymitch.  Call me Haymitch.”

Peeta nodded and met the man’s eyes, “Peeta.”

“Peeta, we’ve done everything we can for your girl, now it’s up to her.”

“What does that mean?” Peeta asked with a befuddled raise of his brow.

“It means that medically speaking, there is nothing more I can do for your girl.  Now, it’s up to her, whether or not she’s willing to fight.  If she gains consciousness before the night’s over, I am optimistic that, in time, she’ll make a full recovery.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Peeta asked, trembling with fear as he awaited the doctor’s answer.

“Then it’s not likely she’ll wake up at all, and then … we’ll discuss extraordinary measures.  But let’s not cross that bridge until we get to it.  In my experience, kids will fight to live if they have somethin’ ta fight for.”

“Thank you, Dr.— Haymitch.  I … I need to find my wife— what are visiting hours?”

“I’ve cleared it with the nurses; you and your wife can stay as long as you want.”

“Thank you,” Peeta smiled and shook Haymitch’s hand, eager to find Katniss.  As he made his exit from the PICU, he noticed Haymitch taking the seat next to his daughter and cleared his throat.  Peeta slowed his pace, straining to hear what the doc had to say.

Haymitch cleared  his throat once more and began to speak in a soft and gentle voice that  Peeta almost didn’t recognize from the hardened doctor.  But it was— without a doubt, him.  “Listen, sweetheart, I know you don’t know me and all, but my name’s Haymitch and I’m your doctor.  I know you’re little and all and you probably don’t understand how the world works, so, I’m gonna tell ya.  You see, doctors give orders and patients are s’pposed ta listen.  I’m the doctor, you’re the patient, got it?  Alright, well now that that’s settled, I’m ordering you to stay alive, alright kid?  That’s all you gotta do; stay alive.  I’ll do the rest.”

With that, Peeta went on a quest for his wife, knowing his daughter was in good hands.

  After Peeta wheeled Katniss to their daughter’s bed, it all hit Katniss like a ton of bricks.  That was her daughter lying in that miniature hospital bed.  Her Primrose.  She had already lost one Primrose; she wouldn’t survive losing another— she just wouldn’t.  Unable to face the truth, she ran from the room and took the elevators to the top floor.  Once she exited the elevator, she went to the nearest door, which led to a stairway.  She took the steps two at a time and passed through another door that opened up to the roof.

Katniss ran to the edge, leaning against the banister; not to jump, but just to look out into the sky.

For the first hour, she cried.  She cried and cried, trying her best to convince herself that wasn’t her Prim lying in that bed, but someone else’s baby.  It couldn’t be her daughter, it just couldn’t.  The universe couldn’t be that cruel, right?  But deep down, she knew it was.  And then, she was consumed with guilt—for wishing that fate upon someone else’s child.

During the following hour, she did something she hadn’t done since she was small, since her own parents forced her to do it.  She didn’t necessarily believe there wasn’t a God exactly, but she didn’t really believe there was one either.  But what if there was?  Would he still listen to her after all the years of silence?

Deciding it was worth the risk, on the off chance there was some kind of higher power out there, she begged, she pleaded for them to save her little girl.  And then, she resorted to begging, dropping to her knees as she bargained her life away.  She didn’t know that at the same exact time, her husband was doing precisely— the same exact thing.  She was on her knees sobbing when she heard the door whoosh open, her husband’s beautiful blue eyes piercing into her own grey ones.

“Katniss, are you okay?” Peeta asked her, worry glazing over him from the sight of her on her knees.

She wanted his comfort, needed it even.  But then, she was angry at him.  No, not angry, but furious, enraged.  This was all his fault, after all.

“Go away!” She shouted at him, seething with rage.

“Katniss, what?” Peeta shrunk back, hurt by her rejection.

“This is all your fault Peeta.  If you hadn’t— YOU’RE the one who wanted kids, not me.  If YOU hadn’t convinced me to have kids, this wouldn’t be happening.  We wouldn’t be losing her.” Katniss stood up and inched herself closer to Peeta, sending him a cold, icy, glare.

“You don’t mean that Katniss,” Peeta told her, holding his stance with pain-filled eyes.  He knew deep down that she was just hurt and needed to channel her frustrations elsewhere.  Lashing out at him was the easiest, and fastest way to achieve that goal.

The closer Katniss got to Peeta, the angrier she became.  The tears began streaming down her face until she could no longer hold back the uncontrollable sobs.  She began hitting and pounding her fist against his chest, she was so angry.  But Peeta didn’t budge.  He didn’t try and stop her, he just stood there, taking each hit and allowing her to use him as her own personal punching bag.  He knew it wasn’t actually him she was angry at, she just needed somewhere to divert her anger.

Peeta pulled Katniss into his arms and within seconds she ceased pounding his chest.  He held her, crying his own silent tears while Katniss sobbed in his arms.  Once the tears subsided, Katniss looked up to see the pained expression on her husband’s face, in addition to the tears streaking his cheeks and she felt … guilty.

“I’m sorry Peeta, I’m so sorry.  Oh, Peeta, I— I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said.”

“Shhh, sshhh.  I know, I know,” Peeta whispered into her ear, stroking circles against her back as he tried to comfort her.

“I can’t lose her Peeta, I— I won’t survive if I lose her.”

“I know Katniss, I know.  Me too.  But … but I won’t survive if I lose you.  So, let’s pull ourselves together, go to our baby girl and give her something to fight for,” Katniss sniffled and nodded her head.  Together, they walked back to the PICU to be with their daughter.

They re-entered the PICU and headed straight for Prim, only to see a swarm of nurses huddled in a circle; in what looked like them holding vigil at their daughter’s bedside.  One look on their faces and Katniss and Peeta knew something was wrong— devastatingly so.

“I’m so sorry Mr. and Mrs. Mellark, her vitals are steadily declining.  It won’t be much longer now; would you like to hold her before— before—”

“I … I wasted so much time,” Katniss cried, nodding as the tears streamed down her face.  One of the nurses pulled up a rocking chair for one of the parents to sit in.  Peeta was adamant that Katniss hold her first— just in case.

They opened the tiny incubator and placed Prim in Katniss’s arms, draping a blanket over them while another nurse made a call to Haymitch.

“Oh, baby girl, momma loves you so much.  Mommy and Daddy love you so, so much sweet girl.” Katniss hummed through her tears.  “You are so special Prim, so, so very special, my sweet, sweet girl.  You are so special and so loved and …” Katniss sobbed through her tears, placing kiss after kiss to her little girl’s forehead.  Peeta squatted next to Katniss and with one hand, he linked their fingers, and with the other hand, he stroked his little girl’s foot.  The floodgates were open— he didn’t think he could cry any harder until he heard Katniss’s beautiful voice singing the lullaby to their daughter.

Deep in the meadow, under the willow

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow

Lay down your head and close your eyes,

And when they open, the sun will rise;

Peeta’s heart plummeted in his chest as he heard Prim’s heart monitor “flat line.”  As difficult as it was with the splint on his leg, he inched closer to his wife and daughter as they both cried and overwhelmed Prim with kisses.  They showered her with as much love as they could muster, telling her how much they loved her.  They told her how special she was and how they would never forget her.  As badly as it hurt Peeta to say the words, he finally told his baby girl that it was okay for her to go.  The last thing he wanted in this world was for her to suffer.

The nurse reached up to silence the heart monitor when, suddenly, the steady beeping from the machine resumed all on its own.

“What the—” the nurse exclaimed just as Haymitch burst through the door.

“I thought you said code red?” Haymitch growled, seeing the normal heart rhythm on the monitor.

“She—she flatlined, and then— she just— came back,” Portia stuttered in complete bewilderment.

“Little slugger had something worth fighting for, what’d I tell ya?” Haymitch chuckled, looking at the teary-eyed parents.

One Year Later:

“Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you …”  Katniss and Peeta sat on either side of their daughter on her third birthday, slightly less than a year after the devastating car accident that nearly took her life. 

  “That is one happy little girl,” Effie looked up and smiled at her husband.  “Thanks to you,” she added in a whisper.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Haymitch pretended like he didn’t care, but Effie knew—she always knew; he cared too much.

  “What did you wish for, sweet girl?” Katniss asked her daughter after she blew her candles out.

  “A baby brudder,” Prim said, her face smeared with chocolate frosting and a mouthful of chocolate cake.

  Simultaneously, Katniss and Peeta’s eyes locked and Katniss inadvertently reached up to palm her belly.

  “Should we?” Katniss mouthed to her husband who gave her a slight nod.

  “You’re going to be a big sister Prim, but not for a few more months,” Peeta informed their daughter, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  “Yay!  I like wishes, Mommy!” Prim squealed, wrapping her tiny arms around her mother’s neck.

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Can’t Lose You

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Summary: Y/N, a servant in the palace, and Zuko, the prince of the Fire Nation, never should have been allowed to be friends growing up but after three years, things have changed for the both of them. 

Warnings: Descriptions of burns/ injuries (the scene where Ozai burns Zuko)

Word Count: 7300 (it’s a long one y’all)

A/N: I know that they never once mention cards in A:TLA but I had a hard time figuring out how to do the scene with Azula with something like Pai Sho pieces. 

Part 2 out now! Can’t Get Rid Of Me

________________________________

It was a beautiful day on Ember Island, with the sun shining brightly, the waves crashing in beautiful roars, and the lizard-birds cawing overhead. The sun warmed your skin as you carried your basket full of blown glass beaded jewelry into the marketplace, small glass orbs of every color swishing around like liquid almost in the woven basket. The normal crowd bustled around you in three categories: 1) The Rich Kids: These were the teenagers whose parents were generals or socialites in the Fire Nation military. They were either here on vacation or enjoyed living in an exotic place. Their lives revolved around partying, shopping, and drinking. 2) The Merchants and Artisans: Another set of locals, just much less affluent than the former group. These were the people who lived on Ember Island full time and were the only reason things ran. They provided services from cooking to clothing to furniture. 3) The Tourists: These were the citizens from the mainland that came to Ember Island to take in the sights and relax. You were a part of the second of these categories. 

Creating glass beads was never something you saw yourself doing. Especially not several years ago. Artisanal work was something that seemed so far out of anything you could do. See, you’d grown up in the palace… sort of. Your parents had been servants in the palace prior to your birth which led you to a life of servitude yourself. 

It was a miserable life no matter how much your parents insisted it was better than living in one of the poorer villages outside of the palace, where people were treated like they were from other nations. Every day from the age of eleven, you’d been bossed around by anyone who had a title. “Get me water!” “Get me food!” “Wash my clothes!” “Make my bed!” You were nothing. Most of the time, they didn’t even use your name. Most of them didn’t even know your name. But that wasn’t even the worst of it because there was always Azula. 

**

The sun shone brightly in the little courtyard full of flowers and the little pond with turtle ducks that you and Zuko loved to play with. Zuko had been your best friend since his mother had allowed you to play with the royal children. Both of your parents were servants in the palace and, in the early years of your life, you were too young to work around the castle when you weren't in school. When Ursa found out, she insisted that you play with Zuko, Azusa, Mai, and Ty Lee, despite Ozai's insistence that his children should not associate with people below them. It was the one debate that Ursa ever seemed to win.  

Despite her victory though, it didn't mean that your 'play dates' were much fun. At first, you gravitated towards Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai, as they were the girls and who Ursa first introduced you to with the assumption you guys would be friends. While Mai and Ty Lee both loved you and treated you well, Azula took after her father and treated you like scum. She'd feign niceties and then turn on you and do horrible things. She treated Zuko very similarly so the two of you bonded over your mutual dislike of his sister. 

The two of you became best friends and did everything together. You ran around the halls of the palace but always made sure to hide away from Ozai, fearing he'd do something to you or your parents if he found you with his son. Although nothing was outright romantic between the two of you, Ursa saw the little sparks between you two when she was with you. She noticed the way your guys' little cheeks would burn red if your hands accidentally touched or saw the way your gazes would linger a little longer on each other when the other looked away. Unlike her husband, she had no problem with your little unspoken crushes. Thankfully, Ozai was never involved in his children's personal lives much anyways so he didn't notice but it wasn't long until Azula caught on. 

She would corner you and pretend to want to have "girl talk" about boys and crushes. It was never long until she brought up her brother. "I know you like Zuko. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. I think it's cute that you think you have a chance. But you know he's a prince right? And even though you get to play royals with us, he could never marry someone of such low class." Even at ten years old, her words stung. You'd always had little fantasies that maybe he'd sweep you away from your predestined life of servitude one day. He didn't even have to sweep you away to a life of royalty, you just wanted him to sweep you away to anywhere. But maybe Azula was right. Zuko was royalty and you were far from it. 

So your friendship continued for the next several years until his banishment. In secret, he taught you firebending from a young age. As a servant, it didn't matter much if you were a firebender, you didn't get training because your parents neither had the money or the time nor were either benders. He taught you the basic moves and, though he wasn't as skilled as his sister, you were greatly appreciative of his teaching and actually knew almost as much as he did.

One day, just days after your eleventh birthday, you and Zuko sat at the edge of the pond, trying to oure turtle ducklings to you with pieces of bread. "I've almost got him!" Zuko whispered excitedly, the baby duck only two or three feet away. 

You couldn't wait to pet him! They were so soft when they were ducklings! 

"Hey, Y/N! Come here!" Azula called from across the grass field. You stood up and looked cautiously at her, already distrusting all of her motives. 

"Why?" You asked skeptically. 

Her eyebrows furrowed, "My mother may let you play with us but I am still a princess and you obey me! Besides, it's just a card trick." Azula's personality switched quickly, which scared you as a young child, but after a quick look of fear to Zuko, you walked over. 

Mai and Ty Lee stood back, both watching as you came over to their group and leaned down to look at the cards Azula lied on the rock. "What's the trick?" You asked, hoping she really did just have a magic trick. 

She sprawled them out, "Pick one and look at it but don't show me. You can show them though." She waved her hand to her other friends as if they didn't actually matter. Without much thought, you picked one that was buried slightly and looked at it. 8 of diamonds. 

"Now put it anywhere in the deck." You did as she instructed and handed her back the deck. She closed her eyes tightly and threw all the cards up in the air before swinging her arms in controlled movements, ropes of fire coming from her hands. One rope singed a single card from midair while the other wrapped around your calves, sending a searing hot white flash of pain through your body. 

"Y/N!" Zuko yelled when he saw the flames wrap their way up your legs and he ran towards you. You crumpled to the ground, tears falling freely as you cried in pain. Mai and Ty Lee gasped at what their friend had just done but didn't say anything out of pure terror of what she'd do if they did. 

Azula reached down and picked up the single singed card, a hole burnt straight through it. She inspected the card, "Eight of diamonds. Was this your card?" She asked as if you weren't on the ground, sobbing in pain with blisters forming up your legs from something she'd done. 

"Mom!" Zuko called out as he sat there beside your crying form, unsure of what to do or say, anger flaming up within him.

"Oh calm down, Zuzu," Azula rolled her eyes, "Your girlfriend is fine. It's a second-degree burn at most." 

"She's not my girlfriend!" Zuko hissed, throwing a fireball at his sister that she easily dodged, "You're a monster!" 

Ursa came running out quickly at her son's plea for help, "What on earth is going on here?!" She crouched next to you and could see the skin on your legs already boiling up from between the seared tears in your pants, "Azula, what have you done!?" Ursa was furious as she picked you up. 

Azula scoffed, "We were only playing, mother. It was an accident." 

"No it wasn't! Azula hurt her on purpose!" Zuko defended you, jumping up to stand beside his mother. 

Ursa looked at Ty Lee and Mai who looked terrified and didn't even make a move but the look in their eyes confirmed what Zuko said. Ursa held you close to her body before gripping her daughter's wrist roughly, "You have no idea how much trouble you're in." 

And she did. Azula had never gotten in so much trouble in her life, though, of course it did nothing but fuel her hatred for her mother and you and make her side further with her father She blamed you entirely and had harbored resentment against you for having the nerve to return the next day (something you did only because Zuko had begged you to since he wasn't allowed at your house.) Since that day, you never feared her again. You hated her. You didn't think it was possible to hold so much resentment for some as you did for her but you swore one day you'd get your shot to firebend her ass into a pile of ashes without receiving capital punishment, the only thing that kept you even remotely professional over the years. 

**

You shuttered at the thought. The scars that crawled up your calves like vines tingled whenever you thought about that day. It was far from the last time that Azula was ever mean to you but it was the worst thing she’d ever done to you physically. Mentally, well that was another story. 

That was why you’d run away to Ember Island. Even though you too were a fire bender, you could never retaliate against Azula, who took a sick pleasure in torturing you. At one point, you thought it would be worth the inevitable death or imprisonment that was sure to come with retaliation but when you got close, so close that Azula could sense that you were about to fire at her, she brought up your parents, and what she could do to them. It was enough to make you stop that day but it was that night that you left the castle, leaving only a note for your parents to briefly explain before disappearing. With the impending war and attacks, Ember Island seemed like a good enough place to set up. It was far enough away from Azula to be safe but vacationing didn’t seem high on anyone’s priorities list. 

So this was your new life and you loved it. 

The trip to the market was a quick one. You only had to drop off the beads to the artisans who made jewelry from them- you were only the bead maker. The rest of the day was open for you. As you walked back, you came to a split in the road. One, you knew led directly back to the house you were staying at. The other, you couldn’t recall having ever taken in all your time here.

“Let’s see what’s down here.” You hummed to yourself, looking for a little something to change up your routine. This was what you loved about no longer being a maid in the palace. Freedom. Freedom to go where you want, when you want, with who you want, to do whatever you want. The road itself was dirt with the occasional rocks around. It was lined with the large tropical plants found all around the island. At first, there were scattered stores which began to mix with houses before becoming entirely residential. These houses were quite a bit nicer than the houses in the residential area you lived in. Fire Nation flags hung from many of them. “Generals?” You questioned aloud to nobody but yourself. 

Down the road just a bit further, maybe a quarter mile down, the dirt road became much less maintained but there was still a path. After a while of walking, you saw that it led up a small hill to a large house that seemed hidden away from almost the entire island. It was large and beautiful, with traditional architecture built up in red tiles. The walls were practically windows, which you figured would be fantastic considering the wonderful view of the ocean from here. 

The road dead ended into this one home so you knew you should turn around now but the curiosity was killing you. This house looked luxurious but abandoned. The windows, though not broken, were dusty and looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in years. You couldn’t imagine anyone who owned such a magnificent vacation home allowing it to get so dirty unless it hadn't been used in a long time. 

Figuring you probably wouldn't get caught, you decided to check out the house and walked around the building. Heck, if it were abandoned, maybe you could even move in and fix it up. That wouldn’t count as stealing right? 

You wandered around the house until suddenly-

“Guys, someone’s coming!” A girl’s voice exclaimed from the side of the house that faced the beach. Your heart stopped and before you could even jump to hide in a bush, there were running footsteps coming towards you. Within seconds, a group of people about your age were staring at you. 

Your hands flew up in defense, “I am so sorry. I thought the house was abandoned and-” As you spoke, your eyes scanned across the faces until you noticed one in particular that made everything stop, “Z-zuko?” You couldn’t believe your eyes. Your best friend in the world, even after all this time, stood ahead of you, looking so different than you remembered but also exactly the same. His hair that you’d always known to be tied up to perfection and his royal clothing always neatly pressed, a desperate attempt to be as perfect as he could for his father, was now ragged and relaxed. His hair was down, grown long and dangling over his eyes in some spots. His clothing was that of commoners instead of royalty but you couldn’t help but notice the taut muscles and small scars that he’d acquired over the time of his exile. 

“Y/N? Is that really you?” Zuko’s eyes were wide with total shock and his skin paled as if he’d seen a ghost. He honestly never thought he’d see you again but there you stood, looking more beautiful than ever. He almost didn’t even recognize you. All throughout your childhoods, you’d always looked the same, day in and day out. Your hair was always down with the exception of the signature Fire Nation bun and you wore off-red servant’s garbs. But now, now you looked exquisite. Your hair was similar to how it was, still flowing down with the bun on top, save for the two small braids that framed your face. Instead of robes, you now wore a crimson crop top that crossed around your neck with an asymmetrical skirt of the same color over black capris. But the thing he noticed most of all was the gold arm band around your bicep that he’d given you for your birthday the year before he was banished. 

You nodded fervently and almost ran towards him but your knees nearly buckled when you collided. Thankfully, Zuko had his arms wrapped tightly around you, hugging you so tightly he lifted you to your toes anyways. You couldn’t help the overwhelming surge of emotions. Somewhere between relief and love and fear and confusion. When Zuko was banished, you were terrified you’d never see him again.

“How is this possible? Azula told me you were dead.” Zuko finally set you down and looked into your eyes. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What? No… I’m-” You struggled to figure out where to start, “After you were banished, I stayed for another two years but without yours or your mother’s defense, she just got worse and worse. One day, I just- I almost snapped. I could feel the warmth in my hands. I almost attacked her but she began to threaten my parents. Deep down, I knew I couldn’t beat her. I haven’t had a teacher since you left. I didn’t hurt her but I ran away that night. After a while of wandering, I ended up here. I don’t know why she told you I was dead but it sounds like something she would do.” 

Zuko looked away angrily, “She’s always been a monster to you. To both of us. When I went back to the palace, I asked about you and she told me that you’d gotten sick and died shortly after I left. She only said it because she knew I’d be devastated and I fell right into the trap.” 

A part of your heart twinged from the feeling of being loved. Even after all this time apart, in which you were scared he’d forget about you, he just admitted to being devastated when he’d thought you’d died. 

You were unsure of how to respond to the look on Zuko’s face, a strange mixture of anger and relief. Pure bitterness for Azula. After a brief moment, you reached out for him and pulled him in for another hug, again holding onto him like you’d never let him go again. The very thought of losing Zuko another time made your heart jump to your throat in the worst of ways. “I’m here now though. No matter her threats or lies, here we are.” 

“You know her?” A young bald boy with arrows on his head asked from back with the rest of the group. You’d forgotten there were more people there but when you looked back, you noticed the rest of the group. 

Zuko turned to face the group but kept his hand placed on the small of your back, keeping you close to him, “This is Y/N. She was my best friend back at the palace. Y/N, this is Suki, Sokka, Katara, Toph, and Aang. Aang is the avatar.” 

The boy named Sokka looked suddenly distressed, “You’re just going to tell a friend from the Fire Nation palace that Aang’s the avatar?! What if she tries to kill him?” 

You shook your head at the accusation, your eyebrows raised in a desperate attempt to convince them that you were being truthful, “Oh no! I’ve never agreed with the Fire Nation’s goals! If you’re the avatar, you need to stop Ozai.” 

“I can vouch for her. Even when we were kids, she told me in secret that she didn’t believe that there was any superior element and that the Fire Nation shouldn’t be invading the other nations. Even when I did….” Zuko’s face fell with guilt for what his past self believed, “But I promise, if anyone from the Fire Nation would be on our side, it’s her.” 

Suki stepped forward, her face kind and curious, “You said you ran away from the palace? Are you royalty too?” 

You snorted and Zuko actually cracked a small humorous smile as well, “Oh no. A servant actually.” 

“A servant?” Katara questioned, “I don’t mean to be rude but if you’re a servant and Zuko was a prince, how were you friends?” 

Zuko stiffened up a little bit while you tried to hide the sadness you felt revolving around the circumstances, “My parents were the only royal servants to have a child. Zuko’s mother saw that I didn’t have any friends in the palace and allowed me to play with Zuko, Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee.” The memories of Ursa were all fond. Aside from Zuko, she was the only member of the royal family who treated you with any kindness. When she disappeared, you and Zuko mourned your loss of her together, even though you never did find out the truth about what happened to her that night. 

“You were forced to play with Azula? That must have been traumatizing.” Toph chimed, genuine apology in her sarcastic tone. 

You shifted awkwardly from side to side, one hand shooting up to rub your opposite bicep as those scars that snaked up your calves seemed to burn with awareness, “Yeah, it kind of was.” Your voice was lower than it had been, as the incident had been somewhat of a sore spot for you. 

Katara followed Zuko’s inconspicuously downcast gaze to where your legs were visible beneath your tight black pants that you wore beneath your asymmetrical red skirt. She was automatically hit with a pang of guilt when she saw the ever so slightly raised red vine-like scars that trailed up your legs and disappeared beneath the pants and immediately had an idea of how you’d acquired them. “I’m so sorry. We didn’t mean to-” 

“It’s okay, you didn’t know,” You insisted sincerely, “Besides, they don’t bother me much anymore.” 

Eager to shift the topic, Aang jumped into the conversation, “Well I don’t know if you’ve got a home here or anything but you're welcome to stay with us.” He offered cheerily. Everyone else seemed in agreement, or at least didn't outright object, and how could you possibly say no to getting to spend time with Zuko again? 

"I'd love to. Thank you." 

Later that night, you and Zuko left the group by the campfire to disappear into the house. "So, this is the infamous summer house you'd always leave me for." You chuckled in remembrance, memories of having to watch your best friend disappear for weeks at a time while having to pretend you didn't care for the sake of keeping your friendship 'appropriate', especially after Ursa disappeared. 

"I always wanted to take you here. It's so much different now. Everything's different…" he trailed off, coming to a stop in the middle of a large, mostly empty room. The moonlight streaming from the windows cast a nostalgic shadow on the room and you couldn't help but remember the last time you saw each other. 

**

It was sickening. The entire arena was filled to the brim with people, mostly Fire Nation elite, all surrounding the main floor. Servants weren't supposed to be permitted but Iroh had snuck you in. Iron had taken you in as much as he could, seeing how important to Zuko you were. In a way, you too felt like he was your uncle. When you'd gone to him, begging him to stop the Agni Kai, he insisted that he'd tried to talk sense into his brother but was unsuccessful and that the most he could do to help was sneak you into the audience. 

So there you stood, surrounded by hundreds of animals who cheered for the murder of their thirteen year old prince by a well experienced war general, all because Zuko thought it wasn’t right to sacrifice hundreds of soldiers. “I’m not afraid to face the general,” Zuko had told you as he practiced his firebending with you all day before the Agni Kai, “I meant no disrespect, but I refuse to take back what I said. If this is what it takes, then this is what I’ll do.” 

When Zuko walked out into the open arena, the room went silent. Nobody would dare boo their prince but you were sure that if he were anyone else, they would have. He knelt down, facing away from where his opponent would take his place, staring at the ground. Your heart was in your throat with fear for your best friend. Although Zuko was your secret firebending teacher and much better than you, he had a tendency to crack under the gaze of people he was desperate to impress. The general he was supposed to fight was definitely not someone you’d imagine was one to take it easy on a kid, even if he was the prince. 

Zuko’s opponent came out in the shadows and shadowed his kneel, facing away from Zuko. When it was time, they both stood up and stepped towards each other. When they did, everyone gasped. Where the general was expected to be stood Ozai himself. An audible gasp and murmur ran through the crowd. 

“Oh no-” You stopped breathing entirely, “What’s happening?” Even from your obscured seat, you could see Zuko’s eyes widen in shock and panic. Confliction was written all over his face. 

The man beside you chuckled sadistically, “By speaking out in the Fire Lord’s war room, he has not only disrespected the general but the Fire Lord himself. This should be good.” You turned away from the man in utter disbelief that someone could say something like that about a literal child about to be harmed by his father. 

Ozai stepped forward, hands up and ready to deflect any attacks from his son but the way he moved showed that he didn’t expect his son to make any move. He was testing him and Zuko had failed to impress. Zuko fell onto his knees, shaking in fear. He hung his head low, “Please, father! I only had the Fire Nation’s best interest at heart. I’m sorry I spoke out of turn.” 

“You will fight for your honor.” Ozai continued to step towards him, an unyielding expression on his face. 

“I meant you no disrespect. I am your loyal son.” Zuko begged, laying all of his dignity on the line in front of the nation’s most influential people. 

Ozai wanted no part of it, “Rise and fight, Prince Zuko.” 

Zuko’s forehead laid on the ground as Ozai came to stand above him, “I won’t fight you.” 

His father stood tall and loomed over his small child, “You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher.” 

When Zuko looked up, tears streamed down his cheeks, knowing that his father had no consideration of mercy. All you could hear were Zuko’s screams and the roar of flames leaving Ozai’s fist as you watched your friend be brutally burned. Your tears were unstoppable and unconsolable as you genuinely thought he killed Zuko. When the flames stopped, he was on the ground, holding his face and sobbing in pain. Ozai turned his back, something between pride for winning and embarrassment for the way his son reacted to the duel on his face. 

“The way you have behaved during this Agni Kai was more disgraceful than speaking out of turn. You have brought shame on yourself and the royal family. The punishment is banishment. Unless you can capture the Avatar, you are no longer welcome in the Fire Nation.” You gasped at what Ozai had said before he turned away and left, head straight and lips tight.

You began to run and push your way through the crowd, thanking goodness for your smaller stature compared to the adults all around. You had to find Zuko and make sure he was okay. You didn’t care if you’d get caught or in trouble, you just needed to find him. Being a servant had its perks in knowing the palace inside and out. It became obvious that nobody was going to help the prince until, while on your way through the halls, you ran into Iroh who too was looking to help the boy. 

Finally, you’d made your way to him and Iroh carried him to a washroom. You quickly ran over and retrieved a bowl of cool water while Iroh leaned him back. “Pour the water on the burn.” He instructed. 

“Close your eyes.” You told Zuko, although his eyes were already shut tight in pain. The cool water flowed from the bowl and onto his face, which looked red and blistered already. This was by far the worst burn you’d ever seen. Zuko struggled slightly against the liquid but stopped crying and calmed down when the water became soothing. 

Iroh had located bandages and began to bandage his nephew’s face. 

“I-I can’t believe what happened.” Zuko stuttered out, “He banished me.” You weren’t sure you’d ever seen him so pale. “Where do I go, Uncle? What do I do?” He began to work himself up again as the weight of the last hour really settled. 

Iroh turned to put down the gauze, “You must leave the Fire Nation, Prince Zuko,” He began and Zuko looked panicked again, “But I will go with you.” 

You both turned to Iroh, “Uncle, no! You’re whole life is here.” 

“The world is no place for a boy to wander alone. And there is not much here for me in the Fire Nation palace anyways.” You all knew he was referring to the rumors of him being the weaker brother, the disgraced general. “I will accompany you.” 

Zuko placed his hands on his knees and braced himself as he thought through the situation, “I must find the Avatar. It’s the only way to regain my honor.” 

Both you and Iroh looked apprehensive but you were much more vocal, “Zuko, what your father did you today was not what fathers are supposed to do. Someone behaved shamefully today but it was not you.” You insisted, heart aching for him. 

“I need his respect. My honor is the most important thing. I’m going to find the Avatar and when I do, my honor will be restored and I will regain my rightful spot as prince.” Zuko looked pained and troubled. It was clear he knew what he wanted to do but had no idea how he would do it, not that he’d let that stop him though. 

You got quiet, looking down at where his knuckles were turning white from the tight grip on his own knees. Gently, you placed your hand on his and waited for him to look up just enough for you to make eye contact, “I’m going with you then.” You said finally. 

Zuko’s uncovered amber eye met yours before he shook his head, “I can’t let you do that. Your parents are here.” 

“I hate it here.” You insisted desperately, “I’ll come back for them some day but I can’t leave you. You’re the only person that cares about me here.” 

Iroh placed his hand caringly on your shoulder, “Zuko is right, Y/N. This is his journey but I do not think it’s yours. It’s best if you stay.” 

“But… but…” The tears were threatening to spill over as you managed to choke out, “I can’t lose you.” 

There was barely a moment between when the words left your mouth and when Zuko’s lips met yours. At first, you were taken off guard and almost pulled back but when your brain registered what happened, you leaned into the innocent kiss. Your brain ran wild. Was this heat of the moment or had he really felt the same way you did? When he pulled away, you felt cold, “I’ll come back for you one day. I promise.” 

** 

“So, speaking of different, you sure look like a different Zuko than the one I knew. Last I heard around the palace, you were super intense and obsessive about finding the avatar.” You asked, teasing towards the end. 

Zuko inhaled awkwardly, his hand coming to rub behind his neck, “Yeah… I was. Until I realized that my father was a monster and that the Fire Nation had caused nothing but harm and destruction. It took a lot of convincing but they actually let me join them and become Aang’s firebending teacher.” He gestured back to the group who was all laughing, most likely at something Sokka said. 

“Well, he’s got the best teacher around.” You giggled, hitting his arm gently. 

Zuko turned to look at you, “What about you? Things look pretty different for you too.” 

A boulder sat just ahead of you, perfect for the two of you to use as a seat. You leaned back against the stone and Zuko did the same beside you. “Well, when I left the palace, I didn’t know where to go. But then I remembered you telling me about Ember Island and figured that it was far enough away to get me away from Azula but still in the Fire Nation so I wouldn’t have to create a whole new identity. When I got here, I saw an old lady struggling to make it to the market and asked if she needed help. Turns out she’d been making glass beads for years and needed an apprentice. After spending the day together, we ended up striking up a deal. She’d teach me how to make the beads in exchange for room and board. So this is where I’ve been for the last year.” 

Zuko sighed, “I really did mean to come back for you.” 

You exhaled heavily. It had been a sore point for you for a while. You waited for him for two years, over which Azula told you lies about him being killed or disappearing. It was just another fuel for her mental abuse. “I honestly was really angry about it for a long time. But-” 

“No, you had every right to be. But believe me when I tell you it was probably best that you didn’t come. Searching for the Avatar made me someone I didn’t recognize. I became a monster.” He looked away from you, most of the last three years worth of misdoings coming back to haunt him. 

You squeezed his hand, “I doubt you were as bad as you think you were and I’m sure Iroh would tell you the same. Where is Iroh anyways?” 

He sank even deeper, “Another one of my many mistakes.”

Your heart immediately dropped, “Is he…?

Zuko shook his head, “No, no. He’s alive. I’m just sure he hates me.” 

“Zuko, I don’t think you could do anything that would actually make your uncle genuinely hate you. That man holds so much love and respect for you.” Iroh’s love and devotion to Zuko was undeniable and you weren’t lying when you said that there was probably nothing that would make Iroh’s feelings change. 

“I hope you’re right.” Zuko looked off into the distance before looking back at you, “But for what it’s all worth, I’m really glad to see you again.” 

A smile blossomed on your face, “I’m really glad to see you too. I missed you so much.” Even after all the years, it felt as if no time had passed. He was still your Zuko. 

You hadn’t realized that the gap between your bodies had closed to just a mere inch or two until you found yourself leaning your head onto his shoulder without thinking about it. Zuko stiffened up a little bit at the contact, looking around paranoid. He knew logically that there was nothing saying you two couldn’t be friends - or more - anymore. But his gut reaction was to be on his guard, just like when you were children, trying to hide your frowned upon friendship. 

Zuko had always looked back fondly on those memories while he was banished and not one day went by when he didn’t think about you.

**

Iroh walked onto the deck of the large ship to see his nephew standing against the railing and staring into the distance over the ocean. It was like he had the sixth sense for his nephew, always able to see what was going on in his head better than Zuko did. Iroh approached the prince and stood just behind his shoulder, “You’re thinking about Y/N again?” He asked, though it really was more of a statement. 

Zuko looked back over his shoulder towards his uncle, “I just wish I knew she was okay. She’s stuck there with Azula and you already know what she’s done to her! But now I can’t protect her. I should have let her come so I’d know she’s safe.” He looked away angrily, hanging his head, upset with how he’d handled everything. 

“You care for her, Prince Zuko.” Iroh began before getting interrupted by the eager and emotional prince. 

“Of course, I care for her! She’s my best friend.” Zuko had never really had any other real friends. Sure, Mai and Ty Lee were cool when they weren’t around his sister but none of them were you. 

Iroh could see the conflict in the boy’s eyes, “But you care for her as more than that, don’t you?” 

Zuko’s eyes widened. It shouldn’t have come as a shock to him but hearing his secret feelings spoken aloud finally felt like it was actually real. With anyone else in the world, he would have denied it but Iroh was different. “We can never be together.” Zuko confessed, heartbroken all over again. This was why he didn’t admit it to himself. 

“Why’s that?” Iroh asked, as if the answer weren’t obvious like it was to you and Zuko. 

His face scrunched with distress, “Because I’m a prince and… well she’s not even the daughter of a general. I don’t care about her wealth or status but it’s not allowed.” 

“Well, lucky for you, for once, you’re banished. I don’t think anyone would care much if you were to be with her now.” Iroh pointed out. 

Zuko groaned, “I’m not even allowed into Fire Nation territory let alone the palace. I’d never be able to take her away like this. I need to find the Avatar, have my honor restored, and then I’ll find her again and I’ll never let her go.” 

“True love will find a way, Prince Zuko. Remember that happiness and love is more important in this world than titles.” 

** 

Now, you were beside him, your head unashamedly laying on his shoulder and was it his imagination or was your leg touching his now? Zuko cleared his throat, “Y’know, I can’t help but think about how we left things off three years ago,” You shifted to look up at him when he spoke. 

You knew he was talking about the kiss - that one forbidden kiss that had haunted your lips since he left. It had consumed many of your nights as well. “I think about it too. A lot.” You confessed, much less embarrassed than you ever would have imagined. 

Zuko tried to hide the little jump in his chest when he heard the way you agreed, like it wasn’t a bad memory but far from it. “You do?” 

You nodded with a warm smile on your face (or maybe it was just your cheeks burning from the confessions), “I liked you for so long, of course it was something to remember.” 

“Liked?” Zuko questioned nervously, “As in past tense?” 

“Yeah, as in past tense.” You began and Zuko’s heart dropped. 

“Oh…” 

“‘Cause now… I think- I think I fell in love with you a long time ago.” You looked up directly into his eyes, heart in your throat as you waited for a response. 

Zuko’s jaw dropped in disbelief and he stuttered over his words, “There wasn’t a single day I didn’t want to come back and take you away so we could be together.” 

You and Zuko stared into each other’s eyes as the weight of what was being said sunk in. Everything felt heightened right now, like else in the world mattered but Zuko. All you could see and hear and feel was him from his scent of woody spices and smoke to the way the moonlight reflected off his perfect skin - scar included. You could literally feel the warmth radiating from his body, a warmth you had a feeling hadn’t been there in a long time. 

“What’s there to stop us from being together now?” In all the futures you’d imagined with Zuko, this wasn’t really a scenario you’d thought of. The two of you sitting on a rock at Zuko’s family summer house after years of not seeing each other- Zuko, a banished and disgraced prince and you, a former servant runaway- but now seeing each other without the shroud of all the barriers of titles and statuses. 

Your lips had already been dangerously close when you were talking, making the ever so slight move inwards to close the gap feel effortless. The question you’d posed was responded to with a long, deep kiss. Zuko’s lips had changed so much since the last time you’d kissed them. The smooth soft lips that had lingered in your memory were now rougher and slightly chapped, weathered from years of hard work like the rest of him, though still soft enough to be familiar. 

Zuko’s hand came up to rest on the point where your jaw met your neck to guide your lips to his just ever so slightly deeper. He was lost in you, in your lips, in your scent, in your tase, in your touch. This moment was everything he’d dreamed about almost every night on his quest for the Avatar. Like everything else, this felt so different yet so familiar. 

Finally, you pulled away and this time you didn’t feel guilty or immediately look over your shoulder. You got to just be with Zuko. It was as if you were entranced by him, unable to take your eyes away. If you could’ve picked one moment to last forever, this would be it. 

That was until Zuko sighed and turned his face away, “There’s a war.” 

“So we’ll fight together.” Your hand that was still on his squeezed tightly. 

Zuko turned back to you and gripped your other hand, holding them close to his body, “Losing you the first time was hard enough. I can’t lose you again, Y/N.” 

You swallowed hard, “I know I’m not the most skilled Fire Bender in the world but that doesn’t mean I can’t hold my own. I don’t plan on dying in this war and you better not be planning on it either.” 

“That’s not what I mean. I just… I love you Y/N,” He confessed, his typical Zuko-esque flusteredness creeping into his tone, “But now after knowing you feel the same way and knowing what we could be, I just don’t know if I could handle risking losing my best friend and the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.” 

Your breath abandoned you when those three words left his lips, I love you. They were the three words you’d dreamed of hearing him tell you for years. But now he was using them as an excuse to not be with you. “I love you too, Zuko. I’ve loved you for so long. But what difference does it make if we fight this war as a couple or as friends? If we love each other, the pain of losing the other would be the same.” 

Zuko’s gaze fell to where your fingers were interlaced and he brought them up to his chest, looking at the contrast of his larger calloused hands to your smaller, slightly softer ones. “I can’t lose you.” He repeated, closing his eyes, but this time it sounded like a final decision. 

You pulled your body closer to his, your intertwined hands pressed between your chests, as you looked up at him, “Then don’t push me away.” Your plea was low, barely above a whisper, but by the way Zuko looked, you could tell it had some affect. “Please, let us do this together.” 

Zuko found it difficult to argue with you because it was like arguing with himself. You were the vocalization of everything he wanted deep down. “Okay,” He answered finally, “But only if you help me rebuild the Fire Nation when it's all over. Together.” 

[cottoncandyjester]

PLEASE I NEED MORE NSFW HEADCANONS OF UR OCS

Well since you asked oh so nicely

This contains:nsfw talk, spanking, salem being salem, degrading, public humiliation

Theodore

If you think he likes vanilla sex cause he's a gentleman you're wrong

Theo likes the thought of being tied up and dominated it's a thought he pushes down constantly

He definitely has a praise and worship kink both receiving and giving

His hands are his best skill

Gives amazing handjobs and is perfect at fingering

He is a giver in bed so he'll spend hours just making you cum over and over

He feels so embarrassed if you try to praise him in bed

He isn't usrd to feeling vulnurable

He hides his moans

If you want him to be loud ride him

He is only rough if he's jealous and only does it as an act of possession

"sweetie, my sweet angel..I'm sorry but I truly can't let this go. The fact that that walking idiot had the nerve to touch you while we were on a date. You'll forgive me for my roughness won't you my dear?"

Theodore's gentle tone didn't match his harsh grip on your hips as he leaned down to plant a harsh and steamy kiss along your neck. He was a person who didn't like being rough on his partner but there were times where it needed to be done

Axis

So he cries during sex

But we all knew that

He is a switch but either way he's sobbing and begging for more

When he is a top he is hugely into petplay

Prefers the nickname bunny for his lover

Will definitely buy you bunny petplay items for the bedroom and dress you up

He likes the soft feeling of the bunny tail so expect him to touch it 24/7 while he's fucking you

As a bottom he's submissive to the core

Definitely has a mommy/daddy kink

Touch is very important to him

He likes the feeling of silk and lace against his skin

He likes to blindfold you so you experience what he does

He is the type to remind you of the safeword over and over

He doesn't wanna be overbearing but he's always scared about making you uncomfortable

He is the type to drown you with praise and love

He just adores you to the point where the softest of touches makes him cum

Tie him up and he's whining

"[y/n], please- a-ahh I can't take it anymore"

Axis whimpered as he struggled against the restraints, the silk brushing against his wrists made him shudder at the delicate feeling. Tears streamed down his face as you bounced up and down on him riding him to the point of overstimulation

"hold on for a little longer, you'll be a good boy and do that right?"

"[y/n]! Yes! Yes! I'll be good just please let me cum!"

His sobbing was so cute that you just had to tease him some more..even if it made him sob

Hikaru

We know he adores degrading

Sex with him is rough and normally humiliating

He adores making you feel like utter garbage during sex

Of course this being said knocking him down a few pegs may be best

Hes totally into pegging

He is the type to show his lover off and show how submissive they are in the best and most embarrassing of ways

To him it's a show and he adores being the center of attention

"aren't they just so cute, writing and crying like that like a little slut"

Hikaru smiled sweetly as he turned the vibrator up using the remote in his hand. He was having a party and you were the main event, it was punishment for you being a brat before so showing you off like a prize infront of a bunch of people sounded like an utter delight.

"I think they are going to cum again, I suppose I should help them out"

Hikaru gave a long sigh as he walked towards you onto the stage where he tied you up to suffer, he leaned in close with a devilish grin as he watched your expression change to one of desperation and submission.

"come now piggy, you have to be louder than that if you are going to make a good host. What if I fuck you righr here infront of everyone? We can even hold an auction on who gets to stuff you next"

"n-no p-please-"

Hikaru cut you off by yanking your hair back roughly practially growling in your ear at this point.

"then be a good fucking slut mext time or I swear to God I'll sell you to the most disgusting rat I can find"

Hikaru moved back and turned to the crowd before giving a cute laugh before glancing back at you.

"how about we make this more entertaining hmm? After all we have all night to play with them"

Prince

He is very open minded to sex

Except being fucked, that scares the hell out of him

He will do it but he will be very vulnurable during it

He is very experienced so he is the type to take the lead

That being said he thinks its hot when you boss him around

He's horny all the time but he likes doing it in public

His favorite kink is definitely a daddy kink

Call him daddy and he's drooling

Is a master of teasing

He is so cocky during sex

His voice is sly 100% of the time

"You're just too cute babe"

A shaky breathing escapes you as prince teasingly flicked his tongue along your sex making sure to press his piercing against you in the best of ways.

Prince had exact one hour until he had to open the bar so he took this time to give you oral ontop of the bar as a reward for being so cute.

"your sounds are making me so damn horny, shit I just might have to fuck you right here and now you'll want thst right cutie?"

Yuki

Ah the underdog of the group

He is quite brutal

Heavy BDSM is his thing

Full on chains, whips and collars

Both receiving and giving

He is actually the type to be a giver in bed

He'll make you cum with tous over and over til you pass out

He takes that time to masterbate in hiding

He is very vulnurable when touching himself or receiving pleasure

He doesn't want you to see that side of him cause hes embarrassed

Plus he is insecure of his body cause he has scars along it

He is definitely in shibari and bondage as well as leather

Buying riding crops and paddles make him all giddy

He always makes sure you're comfortable though

Absolutely stop if you say the safeword

He doesn't have a huge sexdrive so when you two do have sex it last for hours

It's mostly just foreplay and trying new toys on you to see what they do

A shaky huff escaped yuki as he curled up more in the computer chair stroking himself to the image of you wrapped in leather, it was such a beautiful sight that it made him absolutely hard.

"[y/n]...[y/n]..."

His chanting of your name was low yet whiny as he felt close to climax, that feeling was soon ripped away from him when he felt your hand ripping his away from his cock.

"is this what you do when I'm not around? Wow..what don't want me to see your cock?"

"ah! Wai-"

You cut him off by moving his legs open more so sit on your knees in between them. He looked so shocked that you honestly found it adorable.

"relax yuki, I just want to please you okay?"

He turned his head away and gave a shaky nod soon shuddering when you wrapped your mouth around his length.

"ngh- [y/n]!"

Your eyes sparkled at the sight of his flushed face and you knew that you had to do this to him again

Salem

Oh boy..

Salem is an absolute animal

He loves sex so much that if he doesn't do it at least four times a day he will go through withdrawal

He likes it sloppy and messy

He is the one who is into darker and more dangerous kinks

From blood to biting

Being a cannibal he has to be careful with blood since too much can trigger him to really hurt you

You have to make sure to shout the safeword or he definitely won't hear you

All in all he is a wild lover

Try to deny him for too long and he's pouncing so make sure to keep your schedule clear for him

Eight hours, it's been so hours since salem fucked you and he was going crazy. He didnt understand why you had to do something dumb like have a boring job he offered to let you on his camshow but you always reject him.

When you returned home you couldn't help but stare at the messy house with furniture that had odd holes carved into them, you had a feeling you knew what those were for

"sale-ah! Wait!"

The male pounced you now sitting ontop of you and trailing his tongue along your neck dripping drool onto you as he grinded his hips against yours eagerly basically humping you.

"gimmie gimmie! Lets fuck already!"

"can't i close the front door first?"

You tried to reason with your boyfriend who was using his mouth to remove your clothes while his hands squeezed and fondled every inch of you he could.

"[y/nnnn]~ ahh!"

"Wha-mphff!"

Salem grabbed your face forcing your mouth open before drooling into it letting his saliva drip into your mouth before he gave you a loud sloppy kiss making sure to shove his tongue into your mouth.

it seems you weren't getting out of this easily.

[the-haven-of-fiction]

Not A Christmas Movie

Genre/Rating: Fluff and Sweetness of the holiday variety, T

Summary:  Tom and Astrid find themselves in a unique situation on Christmas Eve. 

Author’s Notes:  My first sappy romantic Christmas one shot, y’all!  Move over, Hallmark!  I tried to cover some of the best cheesy themes, I hope you enjoy it.  Thank you to Pillow Talk and Lolo for proofing.  

The sound of the wind and snow raced through the trees and whipped against the walls of the cabin, the remote mountainous location devoid of any welcoming lights from neighbors.  The two travelers dropped their luggage upon crossing the threshold and rushed to push the heavy door shut behind them.   

“When we get through this, neither you nor my sisters are ever allowed to make fun of my emergency preparedness again!  We’d be in major trouble without it!” Astrid declared, brushing snow off her jacket and holding up the lantern from the referenced emergency preparedness with her other hand as Tom attempted to lock the door.

“I think I can safely and assuredly,” he paused to run his tongue over his perpetually chapped lips in concentration, “give you my word as an Englishman that I shall never,” a grunt of effort, “allow either myself or your sisters to utter a syllable of criticism on that score.”  

She couldn’t help but giggle at his struggle with the lock.  

“Remember when you had the brilliant idea to build a set for one of our backyard holiday productions?  Was that when you played Scrooge?  Your word as an Englishman may be good as gold, but your complete lack of skill with anything slightly mechanical is something I wouldn’t swear by.”

Even in the dim light of the lantern, the slight twitch of a smile was visible on his face, the vision of the pathetic attempt so vivid in his memory.  

“No one is going to believe this,” she sighed, shivering and looking around for a light switch.

“Truth is stranger than fiction,” Tom quipped. “The best intentions of a Christmas surprise, a series of unfortunate events, a comedy of errors…”

“I blame my soon to be ex-mechanic, the weatherman, Anya and Arlyss and their crazy idea about trying to organize our families into coming out here to the wilderness to have some kind of storybook Christmas,” she huffed, fumbling along the wall, but finding the switch and flipping it to On in relief.

They both groaned when nothing happened.  No electricity, no heat.

“They must have disconnected the electricity during renovations, fantastic.”  He followed close behind her as they made their way around the cabin.  Although the snowstorm was in full force and there weren’t any outside lights on the driveway, they could see evidence of construction as they had pulled up a few minutes earlier.  

“Well, at least there’s a fireplace and I think there is actually a pile of wood next to it,” Astrid pointed as she spoke.  “How about that.  Must have been stocked by the same person who left the door unlocked. Remind me never to hire this company, whoever they are.”

“I could go outside and check for the…uhm…the…” Tom stuttered and gestured, making what she assumed was meant to be a square shape of some kind.

“The breaker box?” she asked dryly.  

“Exactly, yes,” he answered in a tone of false bravado, clearing his throat. “I was merely waiting to see if you knew the name.”

“Santa doesn’t bring presents to little boys who lie, ya know.”  She set the lantern on the mantle next to a small glass dish of matches.  “Especially little boys who grew up in a centuries-old estate and have servants who take care of locking the doors and fixing the electrical problems.”

“They are not servants, they are staff, Miss Sassy, and I doubt Father Christmas knows we are here, no one does,” he replied.  “Add the one forgotten mobile and the other with no service to the list of things that won’t be believed.”

“Well, anyways, Professor,” she went on in an exaggerated manner, “I may have a First Aid kit in my emergency supplies, but I am not equipped to perform any surgery on wounds you would most certainly incur from trying to play Electrician.”

He knew she was correct and they both smiled, cheeks rosy with cold.

“I suppose it was fortuitous that I ended up teaching Classics rather than embarking upon a career in carpentry.”

Astrid got a fire going and they were able to scope out their surroundings more thoroughly. A last-minute change of plans had allowed the visiting Tom and originally scheduled-to-work Astrid to join their families in the mountains for Christmas, but a quick succession of unforeseen events had brought them here, stranded close to midnight in a semi-livable cabin during a snowstorm on Christmas Eve.

The owners must have been undergoing some kind of renovations.  The cabin obviously had been inhabited previously, but half the interior wasn’t complete, including the kitchen.

“The toilet flushes!” she shouted from the bathroom.  “And there’s running water in the sink!”

“Unfortunately there is no sofa or chairs of any sort and only one bedroom,” he reported when she came back into the main room, “No fireplace, but it does have a bed with linens.”

“Well, my kit has extra batteries so we should be okay with the lantern in there,” she assured him, completely missing his point about the issue of a single bed.

He noticed that her shivering wasn’t decreasing as much as it should, looking her up and down in concern.  She was wearing an ankle-length corduroy skirt in a shade that matched her eyes, with a long-sleeved but thin sweater.  

“I think we should go through our luggage and put on a couple of more layers.  That centuries-old estate was a bit drafty, so I am accustomed to an indoor chill,” he informed her with a tinge of that irritating blend of both humility and privilege.

She rolled her eyes, but went over to her suitcase and started sifting through her clothes.  

“You and the twins have always been bossy. It’s a wonder how I have managed to get through life as an adult without the three of you hovering over me like you did when I was a kid.”

He pulled on another shirt and grinned at her.

“I still remember the day you were born.  I was visiting Dad and Roberta that year for Christmas,” referring to the alternating schedule their families had of who went to which country for the holidays. “And your sisters and I were old enough to be excited rather than jealous of a new child coming.”

Astrid turned away from him, hoping he wouldn’t see her reaction.  Why did it please her so much to hear him speak of her birth with such affection?  It must be this ridiculous situation.  And the holiday.  And her birthday.  And this sparkling blue-eyed man whose place in her life she had never been quite able to define.  Not a blood relation, but as close as a family member, certainly more than a friend.  But more than a friend, in that sense?  College and adulthood had made the unanswered question less important, as the shared summers and holidays of their childhood had grown fewer and fewer.  She didn’t let herself ponder why he hadn’t married and had a dozen children to help him keep up that manor. Any woman would be elated at the prospect of sharing her life with him; she knew he had a string of casual relationships, just as she had, but their age difference had made her sure years ago that he would be a distant memory by this time.  

“Born on Christmas Day to parents named Joseph and Mary, merely the beginning of my life’s trajectory of ‘You won’t believe this!’ events, continuing to this bizarre night that has practically every plot point needed for a cheesy holiday movie except that we aren’t secretly pining for each other.”  She zipped up the windbreaker over the thicker sweater before reaching for her parka, not seeing the brief flicker in his eyes.

“Did you know that Arliss wanted to call you Snowflake and Anya’s choice was Mistletoe?” Tom picked up her scarf and hat that he had placed on the hearth so they would be toasty and walked back to her.

“I hear that story every year, along with all the suggestions from everyone to aunts and uncles to the postman.  Thank God my parents went with something on theme, but not silly.”  She pulled on her boots after a second pair of socks and looked up at him.

His expression changed and he drew in a short breath.

“Do you like your name?”

The inquiry was brimming with something that sounded like hope to her.

“Oh, yes, I’ve always loved it.  In fact, I love it as much as I’ve disliked having a birthday on Christmas because it is beautiful and unique and it made me feel beautiful and unique.”

A wave of pure delight lit up his face and something clicked in her mind.  Her parents’ version of where her name came from was always that someone had mentioned it to them and they couldn’t remember who it had been.

“It was you, wasn’t it,” Astrid said.  And it wasn’t a question. “It was your suggestion.”

He worried at his lower lip, a tic she’d come to know years ago that was a sure indication of him being both pleased and embarrassed.

“Yes,” the soft affirmation punctuated by the crackles and pops from the fire. “And your description is precisely how I thought of it then, thanks to having just started Latin in school, and,” a heartbeat of silence, “it is how I think of you now.”

He was standing directly in front of her and paused to survey her face for a few seconds before tapping lightly under her chin.  

Without even thinking about it, it seemed, she looked up at the ceiling so he could wrap the heated scarf around her neck.  The warmth felt wonderful, although the feeling caused by this stunning revelation about her name and the look on his face was already warming her up in a way she tried to herself wasn’t happening.

He tucked her hair behind her ears and pulled the hat down while she argued with herself that he was simply being affectionate in the manner of a friend.

“Well,” she said, a little too loudly, stepping back from him, “That down comforter is calling to me, I guess we should be getting to bed.”

Good heavens, the bed, she thought.  As in one bed.  

As in here, as in they were stuck with a snowstorm swirling around them.  

In a cabin that was being renovated.  With no power or heat.  

On Christmas Eve.  

This couldn’t be real, it was not a Christmas movie.

“I suppose we should,” still in that soft voice.  

A distraction.  She needed a distraction.

“Oh!  I just remembered!  I have my favorite Christmas movie downloaded on my phone, we can watch it before we go to sleep.”

Less than two hours later, David Niven was giving his sermon and Loretta Young was gazing up at him while Cary Grant walked away in the snow.  Tom was propped up a bit against the headboard and had insisted on holding the phone so she could stay under the blankets.  Somehow she had ended up almost pasted to his side as the story progressed and his arm was around her.  About halfway through, they’d had a little tussle about whether or not he should leave the warm cocoon of the bed and get them another candy cane from her Snack Pack.  He argued that they had already brushed their teeth, but a sincere plea from her with an affectionate “Be naughty with me, Professor!” addition was something he simply couldn’t resist.  

She sighed and closed her eyes, contented and drowsy and finally no longer cold, too tired and confused to attempt to figure out what was happening, how years of ignoring what was just below the surface had nearly bubbled over.  It was impossible.  He wasn’t interested.  He was just being Tom.  Typical Tom.  Caring, attentive, making you feel like you were the only person in the room.  She wouldn’t think about this anymore right now.  Maybe tomorrow.  Or not.  

Tom closed the app on her phone and noticed the time.

“Hey there, it’s 12:01.”

“Mmhhmm,” she murmured, feeling herself about to drift off.  He was so familiar, so comforting, so exactly like Christmas itself should be.  She wanted to enjoy this moment before she went back to being the little kid and he the older…the older what?

“Happy Birthday,” he said and dipped his head to kiss her forehead, his breath sweet from the earlier candy cane.

She turned upwards toward him without opening her eyes to give him a peck on the cheek, almost without knowing what she was doing in her sleepy state, but she miscalculated and missed his cheek, her mouth landing on his.

He didn’t jerk back in shock.  Or horror.

It’s now or never, she thought, suddenly wide awake and ready to throw caution out the window that was probably frozen shut by now.

Ten seconds later, ten minutes later, she wasn’t sure which, he pulled back breathlessly and she opened her eyes. 

“What are you doing?” he asked in bewilderment, in surprise, but not in accusation.

“I’m kissing you, do you mind?” she responded, quickly pulling off her mittens and his beanie so she could sink her fingers into his curls.

“I, uhm…”

“Have no fear for your virtue, Thomas,” she teased in a low voice, tugging on a fistful of those ginger locks and causing a sharp gasp from him that thrilled her and gave her courage. “We are wrapped up like a couple of stuffed sausages in this icebox and there is a foot of clothing between us.”  

His gaze narrowed and focused on her lips.

Another kiss, sweet and shy, but sure.

“I thought we weren’t secretly pining for each other,” he quoted her words back to her.

“I lied,” Astrid admitted while placing a string of kisses down his nose and nipping the tip. 

The gasp changed to a growl, his grip on her upper arms tightening.

“Santa doesn’t bring presents to little girls who lie,” using her words against her, again.

She kissed him, again.  Longer, lingering.

They were side by side now, the blankets becoming tangled.

“Did you lie?” she whispered, not knowing what to do next if he denied it, but also feeling like she couldn’t let another minute pass without settling the matter.

He propped himself up on an elbow and raised an eyebrow at her.

“I don’t recall either confirming or denying your assertion at the time,” wanting to tease her in return.

“But,” he rushed to continue upon seeing her immediately crestfallen, “I will make it absolutely clear now,” each word followed by a brush of his lips across her jaw and down her neck, “that you,” lifting his head to smile at her, “are the one I desire.”

Tears of happiness welled up and slipped down her cheeks.  

“Happy Christmas, my starshine,” he whispered against her lips.