#on one hand i hate light and think he's a stinky little man

[benevientowoes]

babe wake up its time to ponder the tragedy that is seeing the kind and genuine light yagami during the yotsuba arc that he could've been if he never had the death note only for it to be ripped away when he got it back

[rxttenbxnes]

Hello! Do you have any fun headcanons to share about Idia? Honestly, I just find it painful to see how badly this guy gets butchered in headcanons sometimes. People always forget that he is in fact a complete ass with a massive superiority-inferiority complex and not just a sad boi, or they overplay the weeb part and ignore how he has other interests like science and art, or they make him too pathetic by assuming he would still be a blushing incoherent mess like a year into marriage, etc. Anyway, it’d just be nice to hear the headcanons of an actual Idia fan since that’s the only way to get anything sane.

Omg totally, first I'mma do a little rant, I'll make sure to label where the HCS begin so y'all don't have to read my rants 😭

܀⊹ ིྀ🕸 ۫ ִ ׂ💭 ◟♡ ˒ ⊹ ݁ ִ  ۫🎮ೄྀ⊹܀

❱❱﹒⟡﹒𝑅𝑎𝑛𝑡﹢﹒🎮

Okay we gotta acknowledge the fact idia is indeed, an asshole you guys. 💀Well not completely obviously but he's not just gonna be nice to you for no reason. He's not just some depressed dude needing sympathy.

The way Idia is so Infantilzed by the fandom it's actually gets me tweakin, You guys this actually makes me mad, he's not some sensitive bottom uwu boy that stutters 50 times every sentence In fact I honestly cannot see him being submissive half of the time, this man is actually a asshole on the low. Most people get the fact that idia would be submissive from his shy and closed off personality which is just SO wrong to me.

Idia is extremely pessimistic and if we're being real Idia is actually not a good narrator for his own experiences, the constant self deprecation mixed in with his his thoughts about being superior to others is so fascinating to me, one moment he sees himself as nothing but a piece of trash while in the next moment he's boasting about how he's the only one component enough to be ignihyde's dorm leader. He's such a complex character I can Yap about him constantly

I get making jokes and stuff but some people genuinely think idia is some stinky incel creep that hates women and just purposely chooses to not go outside and be chronically online. Like yeah, he has nerdy and loser like hobbies but this man literally has trauma and chronic depression, along with an anxiety disorder, it's not something he can just make disappear. He likes science, engineering, art, anime, games etc which is all just cool, it's not like he's some creep that's afraid to talk to people, nor is he some super submissive guy that'll fold for you in a tiny interaction.

Had to get ts off my chest 💀

܀⊹ ིྀ🕸 ۫ ִ ׂ💭 ◟♡ ˒ ⊹ ݁ ִ  ۫🎮ೄྀ⊹܀

܀⊹ ིྀ𝐼𝑑𝑖𝑎 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠 🎮ೄྀ⊹܀

🎧 Caramelldansen. Idia adores this song unironically. At first he had just saw the meme and quickly ended up falling into the whole thing, laying on the floor completely dazed out of his mind as the colorful lights flash in the background from the music video playing on repeat lol

🎮 I said this in my earlier post but Idia definitely draws his crushes all the time. Luckily he has a little self control and draws anime/manga characters in most of the pages, he's really protective over his sketch book due to 1.) His social anxiety and 2.) The fact that he doesn't want anyone to know that he likes drawing and observing people, especially his crushes.

🎧 Idia constantly has his headphones on, I know of a fact that Idia listens to Nightcore, anime OSTs, Vocaloid, animation meme music, Vkei, video game sound tracks and breakcore religiously. I think idia would honestly listen to everything he can get his hands on

🎮 I feel like he had a 2020 alt kid phase lol. I feel like quarantine would've been his time to thrive, his peak enjoyment of life would be set during this time lol. Being able to express himself like he wanted without others seeing??? Sign him up

🎧 Ironically, he's not super weak. I feel like he just sucks at physical activity, especially running since he doesn't leave his room much. His hands/fist are definitely strong, I feel like he has a strong hit.

🎮 That being said, I think Idia’s hands are large, thin and boney. They definitely have a few scars and calluses from all the machinery he works with, you can't tell me that his hands aren't pretty rough.

🎧 Idia is a fashion icon, in games. Not irl, he would never due to the attention it would grab him, though he definitely is into all of the alternative and Gothic fashion stuff. He'll give his characters the most perfect and pretty outfits and make sure everything is customized perfectly, not mind at all if it takes him hours to do so.

🎮 This man definitely collects figures. I feel like they're all anime and video game figures; he's even commission artist and such to make custom work of his favorite interest and brag online about it.

🎧 Has an habit of repeating words and phrases he likes over and over again. It doesn't matter if it's from an obscure meme that literally only 5 people including him know or if it's in a different language, he'll constantly reference and repeat it like no tomorrow.

🎮 He's a biter. He bites a lot of things randomly, he'd bite someone out of love if he got the chance. I'm telling you he'll just naw on random stuff, not caring if it's edible or not. It could literally be a plushy and he'll randomly bite it while he's hugging it.

🎧 Idia definitely finds confort in the rain and gloom weather. Really, he just enjoys typically gloomy things. It's extremely comforting and relaxing to him to just be able to sit on his bed with his headphones on while it rains harshly outside, making the world around him dark and gloomy.

🎮 Curses, like a lot. Gamer rage is real you guys and he definitely has it. If he loses a game too many times or gets too frustrated with his teammates, he'll curse like a sailor. His anger isn't directly to his teammates or anything, it's of him being frustrated with everything in general.

܀⊹ ིྀ🕸 ۫ ִ ׂ💭 ◟♡ ˒ ⊹ ݁ ִ  ۫🎮ೄྀ⊹܀

[daddyy333]

Geralt of Rivia Fluff

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 2.6k

warnings: reader is injured at the beginning, reader is wounded, reader gets stitches (I think), clingy geralt, ?

summary: Never in your wildest dreams did you think Geralt of Rivia would turn out to be the clingiest boyfriend you’d ever had

When you first started your relationship with Geralt- actually, scratch that. When you first met Geralt you thought he was the furthest thing from clingy. He barely even spoke, much less touched you or even looked in your direction really.

After he fell out with Yennefer, he met you. He was planning to just stay in this small village for a few days and rest, knowing he had to keep moving so no one would find him and Ciri. That was until he stumbled upon you.

He found you running from some odd and probably hungry monster, looking to feed…on you. Possibly one of the most gorgeous women he’s ever seen. You looked quite out of place, your light pastel purple skirt gradually getting covered in dirt as you tried to escape the creature.

You yelped as you tripped over a branch, sobs racking your body as you fell face first into the dirt. You groaned, cursing frantically through sobs, trying to crawl away from the creature.

“fu- FUCK!” You said as the creature drug his claw across your thigh. You cried out, whimpering as you finally accepted your fate. Suddenly, right when you feel it’s stinky, hot breath on you it disappears just as fast.

You couldn’t see what was happening, back facing upwards and your face still buried in the ground. You felt a man’s hands on your waist and you screamed, curling tighter even though it caused more pain to pulse in your thigh.

“Miss, I’m the one who just saved your life. I’m…a Witcher. Even if you hate me right now, I’d like to help you if that’s alright?” He said as he walked in front of you bending down so you could see him. You whimpered as you said “p-please don’t hurt m-me”

“I’m not going to. I just need you to cooperate and I promise you’ll be just fine in a little while” he said and you nodded. He scooped you up and plopped you on his horse, making you cry out in pain.

“Can you…mmm- b-be gentle?” You asked and he sighed. He mumbled an apology and started leading Roach back to his lodgings that he found sufficient for a few days.

You had passed out then, and he realized that his poor excuse for a tourniquet failed. “Shit,” he said and laid you on his bed, pulling your skirt off to help him treat you better.

“Oh gods, what the hell is this?” Ciri asked and Geralt sighed. He poured a disinfectant on your thigh as he said “found her being chased by a monster. Did my job. Now I’m helping her” “why didn’t you just find a doctor to do it?” She asked, setting her bag of fruits down and beginning to wash them.

“Don’t have the coin for it. Why so many questions, Ciri?” He asked and she shrugged. She looked over and said “I don’t know, just…feels unusual” “she needs help. I’m providing it” he said and Ciri nodded, chuckling.

He treated you to the best of his abilities and waited for you to wake up, going out and chopping some wood to fill his time and also training with Ciri a bit. When he came back inside it was nighttime and you were still sleeping.

He knew you weren’t dead, he could hear your heartbeat faintly and you weren’t super pale anymore. He walked over and shook you lightly, trying to wake you up. “Miss?” He asked, and you still didn’t budge.

He sighed and then nearly jumped when Jaskier busted in, a little drunk admittedly. “Ohhhh Geralt!” He sang, stumbling in. Geralt sighed and stared at him, hoping Jaskier wouldn’t cause too much trouble because he needed to look after you.

You groaned softly, rubbing your eyes and coughing a few times. You tried to sit up but moving your thigh cause immense pain. “Ahh!” You groaned, trying to figure out what the hell happened.

“Hi, Miss. Are you alright?” Geralt asked and you jumped slightly. You looked around frantically and then said “w-where is my skirt?” You asked and he cleared his throat. He showed that it was on a table and said “I had to take it off to treat your wounds”

You looked down at your thigh and winced, gently touching it and moving the bandage. “Thank- th-thank you” you said, looking up at him. Jaskier walked over with a smirk on his face and said “and who are you-” “Jaskier,” Geralt scolded softly.

“Y/n…of Aedirn” you said and smiled a little. You noticed a look of confusion on his face and you understood why. You were in a far away village near Creyden, why? “Julian Alfred Pankratz?” You asked the brown haired gentleman and he smiled. He nodded and said “that would be me. Viscount of Lettenhove”

You nodded and looked up at the white haired Witcher, sighing. “Uhm…Rivia…Geralt?” You asked and he nodded, a small smile on his face. Ciri had came out of her room and scoffed at the interaction. “Are you blushing?” She asked and Geralt shot a stern look her way.

“You should be asleep” he said and she shook her head. “Jaskier woke me up” she mumbled and he gasped. He ran over and hugged her as he said “I deeply apologize, my little pocket sized princess. Oh, you should get your beauty sleep come on”

You chuckled a little at the interaction and Geralt bent down to your level. His gaze made butterflies swirl in your stomach. “How are you feeling?” He asked and you sighed. You look down at your leg and said “sore. And dirty” “would you like me to help you with a bath? I would leave you alone but I don’t think you’ll be able to walk properly for a while” “I appreciate it. Yes, thank you” you said and he got to work.

He ended up staying for longer just to care for you and you told him your story. Your parents turned you away because you were secretly harboring magical abilities behind their back and they had strong opinions against that. You’ve been running around all over the continent trying to figure out where’s safest but it’s been tough and technically your homeless.

But he was so infatuated with you he wasn’t really thinking when he said “travel with me. And Ciri of course, and sometimes Jaskier” You shook your head and insisted you couldn’t, you would only be a bother. He insisted instead that you come along.

He was a man of mostly few words, and kept to himself quite a bit. You spent a lot of time with Ciri. You would teach her to cook, help her control her chaos, braid her hair, and even tell her stories of your travels before you met them. The two of you almost seemed like mother and daughter at times but neither of you noticed. You just felt like best friends.

You had to admit, Geralt was a beautiful man. When you caught him shirtless once, you nearly fainted. He was just so handsome, and you wanted to kiss every scar on his body till he forgot about them.

But you thought you never stood a chance with him. You knew about what happened with Yennefer and assumed that because of that you wouldn’t be able to have any romantic relationship with him. Even if you tried, you think it would be rude because of how much happened between them. Truly you are still convinced to this day that they are soulmates, and he would drop you in a heartbeat if she came back and wanted to try again. But that’s a story for another day.

Months go by, you’ve completely healed so long ago you don’t need to burden them any longer with your presence but you feel so welcomed and safe with them. However, after about a year or so you’ve started to think that maybe it would make things easier if you went off on your own again, like it used to be.

You packed your bags and made your way to the lake where Geralt was fishing from. “Hey,” you said, walking up to him. He looked over at you and grunted in response. “I uh…I’ve been thinking and I’m gonna go out on my own again. I’ve been healed for months and I don’t need to stay and bother you any longer. Im grateful fo-”

“Stop,” he said, putting down his net. He shook his head and said “what are you talking about? You are not leaving” “Geralt…I-I was only supposed to travel with you until my leg healed and it’s been over a year. I’m okay now. The less people you have to travel with the easier, so I thought maybe I’d-”

“No. You can’t go. You can’t- do not go. Y/n, why do you say such stupid things?” He asked and you shook your head. You scoffed, shaking your head as you said “why do you care so much? I’m just some strange, homeless woman you met a year ago and just so happened to save from a really stinky monster”

“You’re- why do you think so little of yourself? Stop talking about this nonsense, I don’t want to hear it” he said and you rolled your eyes. You folded your arms and said “so what? I cant go because you say so” “Ciri needs you! I ne- mmm. Go back inside, you’re not leaving” he said and you gasped.

He looked away, obviously shy and embarrassed and you blushed instantly. Did he really mean that? “Geralt…” you said and he ignored you. You walked over in front of him but he still wouldn’t look at you.

You cupped his cheeks and said “what were you going to say?” “I- I can’t. It’s- it’s not fair to Ciri” he said and you sighed. You looked over his facial expression and let go, slowly walking away. He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed.

He decided to just say it in case he never got the chance again, even though he was scared. “I need you, y/n! Alright? There, I said it” he said and groaned as if he was annoyed. You smiled then, just slightly as you stopped walking, butterflies swirling in your belly.

“I thought you didn’t need anyone?” You said as you walked over again. He looked away, feeling so embarrassed he could run away. You almost couldn’t tell, just a small furrow between his brows aside from his usually stoic expression.

“I also said I didn’t want anyone needing me but now Ciri doesn’t get to leave my side and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I guess I lied. And I need you.” He said and you nodded, taking a deep breath. You looked over at what he had already caught and said “alright, fine”

You began to walk away and yet again he pulled you back, pushing you against a tree as he cupped your cheek with one hand and your waist with the other. He looked scared, and you were just about to tell him he didn’t have to do this but then he kissed you and your mind blanked.

He slowly and gently licked into your mouth, connecting your tongues as he caressed and squeezed your waist. You were blushing and smiling so hard as your tongues swirled together, his warm hands making the butterflies in your belly worse.

You pulled away, feeling your face was going to explode and he was only making it worse. “What?” He asked as you stared at him. You giggled and said “you’re smiling,” “no, I’m not” he said and blushed, kissing you again.

He never stopped touching you after that day. You tried to keep this new relationship from Ciri but not a week later she caught Geralt embracing you as you made breakfast. He knew you were upset at him, but he couldn’t help the grin on his face as you scolded him, knife pointing towards him with your hair in a messy bun from when you slept and your nightgown still draping over your beautiful body.

She seemed a bit confused about it, clearly distracted during lessons and keeping to herself for a while after that. You never heard the end of it considering Geralt lingered around you quite a bit and had become so talkative as he got more and more comfortable with you everyday.

Eventually she warmed up to your new relationship, especially since she was seeing it all the time everywhere every day. He couldn’t keep his hands off you to save his life. Quite literally, he almost got seriously injured trying to get you away from one of the many monsters he's fought and killed.

And now, it’s high noon and you’ve been stuck in bed underneath a giant white haired man. A little sex, and a lot of cuddling has gone on in the last 16 or so hours. You assume at least. You’ve been too busy with Geralt.

“You know, I thought when we started seeing each other romantically that we wouldn’t last because I would feel insecure due to the lack of attention you’d give me. The last thing I’d expected was this” you said, making him lift his head up.

He searched your eyes as he said “do you…not like it?” “No, no, I love it, I just- well…have you met yourself? You’re not exactly very affectionate to everyone you meet” you said and you both laughed.

“I just…love you so much” he said and you blushed. He’d told you it took him so many years to tell Yennefer he loved her and you two had only been romantically involved for a little over a year. And it’s been the best year of your life.

He trusted you so much. He chose to be vulnerable and he chose to be vulnerable with you. It was the greatest feeling ever. You’d never given him a reason not to trust you and as scary as it was he reacted directly to that fact every single day he was with you.

“I love you more. My sexy, white haired lover” you said and he blushed. You kissed him and he said “the only white haired lover you’ll ever have” “for the rest of my life” you finished, kissing all over his face.

He smiled and it made you blush. You couldn’t help it. 10 years could pass and you’d still feel so shy when you could make him smile. “As much as I do love this, I am quite hungry” you said and he sighed. He rested his head back on your chest for just a moment longer and then got up, looking around for his clothes.

You smiled, rolling onto your side and admiring his body. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said, turning around. It was a little bit of a strain but you reached over and smacked his ass, making him gasp and reach over to the other side of you, doing the same.

You squealed, calling a truce because you knew how quick he could turn this dirty and your ass was already sore from being slammed against so many things last night and also from having you in- never mind. If you keep remembering you’ll only get yourself worked up again and then you’ll never leave this bed.

“Dirty girl,” he said, leaning down and kissing you once he got his clothes on. You curled up in bed for just a little longer, smiling at the fond memories of how amazing it’s been loving Geralt for the last 2 years. Even when you weren’t together, you did everything you could think of to subtly show your love for him. You wouldn’t trade him for the world.

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes

CW!Bucky Barnes

Chris Evans

Steve Rogers

Ari Levinson

Geralt of Rivia

Henry Cavill

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

[rubbish-and-whatnot]

Can i request a platonic sibling relationship between the bloody painter and the mc? Where mc is a photographer and actually dislikes Helen's bloody painting because they stink? Both often subtly clash heads with each other, classic sibling tropes but still care for each other. Headcanon or one shot i don't really care.

Bloody Painter x Photographer! Reader Platonic!

“That’s it!” You tore open the window and dangled the paint bucket filled to the brim with rancid, metallic, rotting blood. Your hair was in disarray, tank top drenched in sweat, and your mascara decided that it was so hot and humid that it ran from your lashes to your under eyes. Helen would've jumped you if you hadn’t shook your grip, threatening to drop it again. 

“Okay, woah. Let’s not do anything we’d regret,” he waved his open hands like a man trying to calm down a bear or maybe a mountain lion. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t regret it. In fact, I’d relish in getting rid of his disgusting, toxic, biohazard you have the audacity of calling art,” You hollered so loud your face started to change to a new shade of red. 

The a/c had finally met its match, this heatwave and couldn’t keep up with the ripe temperature of one-hundred and one. Just last night it took it’s last sputtering breath and the room you and Helen shared for a creative outlet was hotboxed with what he used as paint. Blood. He used Blood. His pretentious ass really thinks he’s saying something deep by using that medium and will not budge on the topic. Normally, you’d hem and haw about it casually but slowly the rage crept up on you and your nerves. Opening that door and getting a waft of what was waiting for you was like a flash-bang to the senses. 

Nervously, Helen glanced around the room for leverage. He inched his way to the nearby closet and hooked his finger around the light switch for it. 

“Drop the blood and I ruin the negatives,” he exclaimed. 

“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” you snarled. 

“I can and will. You ruin my art. I ruin yours. Are you willing to take that bet?” He stood a little taller. 

Normally, you’d let it go and just take the L if it meant finally dealing with this once and for all but those photos were once in a lifetime pictures. Candid snapshots into a stranger’s life, nay their soul. Of course, you were just as pretentious as him by demanding to only use older cameras. If there’s one thing you knew about working with the negatives of photos is that they won’t survive bright light before they’re finished. 

“I hate you.” 

“I hate you more.” 

You both continue to scowl at each other in this stalemate. 

“Oh my fucking god, why does it wreak?” Jeff approached the open door and clamped his hand over his mouth and nose. Not like a person that almost puked. Like a person that puked a little and decided to swallow it back. “That’s one of the worst smells I’ve ever smelled. What the hell is going on?” He asked while pinching his nose but it’s almost like he could taste it still. 

“Helen won’t stop painting with blood. I’m getting rid of it since it smells like satan’s arm pits in here. He’s holding the negatives of my photographs as hostage,” Your arm began to quake from holding a heavy bucket out for so long. 

“She doesn’t appreciate my art for the brilliance it is,” his voice cracked. 

“Brilliant? Please-“

“Jesus fucking christ, there’s like a million rooms in this building. Why don’t you just work in different ones?” Jeff leaned on the doorframe. 

“…” You and Helen exchanged a look. You pulled the paint back in and set it down and he let the light switch go. 

“Whatever, I’m out of here until it airs out enough,” You turned on your heel and stomped out. Because at the end of the day you’d rather work in a stinky room with Helen than a room without him. Helen as well would rather listen to your incessant bickering about his medium than to paint on his lonesome. At the end of the day it was you and him, and that was something worth more than clean air. Just kidding. Helen was just willing to die on that hill on principle alone. The blood was unusable anyway. He picked up the paint can and poured it out the window onto the grass below. That’s someone else’s problem now. 

[fearthetallman]

Krang Pie Final Chapter

Warnings: mentions of torture, Bishop being a jerk, alien possession, battle, intense gore, unhygienic and amateur surgery

[first][previous]

Chapter 11

Leo regretted not leaving behind an explanation for his dad and best friend but he had other priorities to worry about. He sighed heavily, looking at the giant building before him. Time to go talk to one of his least favorite humans in the entire world. Opening up a portal, he stepped inside, reappearing in a fancy and well-furnished office, the leather chair turned around. He walked up to the desk with no hesitation.

“We need to talk.” He told the back of the chair. The click of guns taking their safety off echoed all around him, more than a dozen red dots pointed at him.

The chair finally swiveled around, revealing a tall and lean man, sunglasses on despite the lack of any sunlight. “Hello, Leonardo. Such a pleasant welcome to see you again. Did you change your mind about you and your brothers giving up their bodies for science?”

“Hardly, Bishop.” He snapped, leaning closer despite the way the guns were aimed and ready. “I need to ask you something confidential.”

The man made a slight wave of his hand and the guns were relaxed, the room emptying. “What is it you need? It had better be good, I have a meeting with the president in ten minutes. He’s not a fan of mutants. Thinks you smell stinky.”

Leo ignored the prodding and immature insults, not in the mood for games. “Somehow a krang got back on earth. I need to know for sure that the key to the prison dimension is somewhere the krang can never access.”

Bishop sighed. “Doubting me already? I have the most high-tech security system of anyone in this century. To insinuate anyone could sneak past our defenses is laughable.”

“I got in pretty easy.” Leo reminded the man, irritation lacing his voice.

Bishop turned around a laptop, revealing a video of the turtle outside the building, just a few minutes prior. “That’s because I let you in.”

Leo grumbled, crossing his arms. “Whatever. Just show me the key so I can make sure it’s safe.”

***

The krang hiding in Mikey listened to Leo’s conversation with great interest. Such a shame the turtle hadn’t checked his medical pack for the microphone and tracking device placed on it. As much as he hated that purple one, he certainly had made things easier. The krang listened closely, already mapping the building as they walked through it.

He stuck to the shadows, staying in alleyways and avoiding the light when possible. He really should have chosen a human to infect instead of these mutant freaks that the population was so afraid of. But beggars couldn’t be choosers.

It was still a bit difficult to control this body. So many different working parts. It had been quite a while since he’d done this as well, the carnivorous plant take-over a distant memory. But he had a long way to walk. Quite a while to get good at it. He wondered how he was going to torture that accursed blue turtle next. Maybe he would make this turtle body eat him. The thought put a smile on his face.

***

Leo and Bishop descended a myriad of stairs, passing multiple locks, DNA tests and passwords that made the process extra long and annoying. Around the 12 consecutive DNA test, Leo was more than a little testy.

“Are we almost there? I have to get back to my family soon.” He didn’t add his silent worry that he hoped he’d still have a family to get back to.

“Patience, my beloved mutant. Patience.”

Ten minutes later, and they were in a sealed off area deep within the belly of the building. It was a very confined space with large glass windows that loomed around the walls. There was large machinery on the ceiling with metal arms that made this place look more like a torture chamber than a safe. The large medical berth covered in dark stains didn’t help either.

But there in the center on a pedestal was the prison dimension key, just as ominous as the day he’d had to use it. Leo knocked on one of the windows experimentally. “And you’re sure this thing will hold?”

“Positive.” Bishop gave a lazy smile as he leaned against the door frame, his unnerving robotic eye peeking from behind the sunglasses. “Nothing gets in here and nothing gets out.”

Leo raised a brow. “Not even with my portals?”

“Once the area is locked, not even mystic weaponry can escape.” He shrugged. “I have the krang technology to thank for that.”

Leo nodded solemnly, face still devoid of any lightheartedness in the presence of this scientist cyborg. This was part of the reason he didn’t want to trust Bishop. The man openly admitted he had means to immobilize his brothers with that grin on his face. But he had no choice. Leo walked over to the key, the unnerving face on it staring back at him. Safe, for now.

Bishop walked out, giving a half-hearted wave of his hand as he left the door open. “Stay as long as you like. Just make sure to lock the door when you leave. Don’t want to bring in a draft.”

Leo sighed, looking at the key. He may have messed it up once before, but there was no way he was letting the krang get ahold of it again.

No sooner had the thought cross his mind did something slam into his chest, knocking him to the ground. He landed hard on his shoulder, gasping for air, lungs struggling to hold any.

Michelangelo stood above him, mouth stretched in a mockery of a smile, tentacles peeking from his teeth as the krang didn’t bother to hide its presence anymore. “So nice of you to do all of the work for me, earthling.”

“No…” Leo protested weakly, propping himself up on his elbows but unable to move any more than that.

The mutant stepped closer, a greedy glee in his gait. He reached over to the key, laughing as he did. He loved these stupid, gullible earthlings. Instead of meeting solid material, however, it wavered when his hands touched it, meeting air.

“What?” He swiped his fingers through it. The image wavered before disappearing.

Leo finally stood up, backing away with a cocky grin. “The good old feeding false information through the tracker bit. I’ve been using that one on Donnie for years. Now we’re going to rip that little parasite right out of you, mi hermano!”

The creature screeched, tentacles erupting from his mouth, ready to fight. Leo grabbed at the door handle to get back to safety. But it didn’t open. Leo slammed his fist on the door. “We had a deal, Bishop! I bring the krang and you extract it for your stupid little experiments.”

Bishop appeared, safely behind one of the glass panels. “Yes, well. Little detail in the fine print. I never said I would get you out of there.”

Panic started to bubble in Leo’s stomach and he hit the door as desperately as he could. An electric shock soon stopped him, letting out a cry of pain as he stumbled back. Blue electricity lit around the room, giving an eerie glow.

“Away from the walls, please. I hate cleaning blood off of them.” Bishop chuckled.

“You two faced lying cyberman reject!” Leo yelled at him. “I never should have trusted you!”

He didn’t have long to worry about it, however, as Michelangelo launched himself at the red slider turtle, making him jump to avoid attack.

“You seem like you have your hands full, Leonardo. Might want to keep an eye on him.”

The mutant hybrid hissed, body jerking around but much more collected and aggressive than before. It swiped at Leo with its hands, each strike holding enough force to crack a skull. Leo dodged, backing up. He tried opening a portal with his sword. Nothing happened. Freaking Bishop.

Leo jumped atop the pedestal, trying to buy some time to think. “How am I supposed to get the krang out of him? You promised me you could take it out.”

“Oh I did.” Bishop agreed. “And you do have a surgeon in there. One of the best swordsmen in all of New York.”

Leo’s stomach sank as he looked down at his own two swords. Bishop wasn’t just unhinged, he was downright sadistic. Something grabbed Leo’s ankle and he was yanked down. His face slammed into the metal floor, stars dancing in his vision. He shook it off, slicing sideways and cutting off the offending tentacle.

The monster screeched, appendage writhing on the ground before falling still. The krang didn’t have enough energy to split apart anymore. Standing back up, Leo wiped blood away from his eyes, adrenaline simmering through his veins. They circled each other for a moment, each sizing the other up.

Then, as though a bell had been rung, they both dashed into an attack.

The creature threw a flurry of punches, each one blocked by Leo’s arm. It moved with incredible force but still jilted like an infested puppet.

“I bet you’re mad you didn’t get Raph, aren’t you?” Leo taunted as he deflected another blow. “Fistfights were never Mikey’s thing.”

It screeched, spittle splattering across Leo’s face. He grabbed its arm, throwing it over his shoulder. Before he could pin it, however, his legs were knocked out from under him. It pounced on him, fingernails digging into his skin. He barely felt them, throwing his weight so he rolled on top of it. It writhed, bucking and throwing him off.

It was only a second before it lunged at him again. He brought his swords up, handles deflecting the blow. Inside its mouth, a tentacle lashed out, cutting his cheek and only narrowly missing his eye. That brought very uncomfortable parallels he’d rather not think of right now.

He kneed the creature in the side. Instead of taking it in stride, it fell over, clutching its side and moaning in pain. Lights clicked on in Leo’s brain.

“Bishop!” Leo called out, not even wondering if said man was still here. “Where is his stomach?”

Sure enough, his voice did come a second later, Bishop frowning behind the glass. “I dunno. What am I, a doctor? Probably in his middle somewhere. Duh.”

Leo was starting to wish he’d trapped Bishop in here with him. “Tell me specifically where his stomach is. The organ! I need to try something. Just look it up on one of your scanner thingies please!”

The krang was starting to recover. Bishop sighed. “The things I do for possible scientific dissection.”

The creature hissed, standing up. Leo’s heart jumped in his throat. “Bishop! Hurry!”

“Fine, fine. I’m doing it. I hate Gen Z, you’re all so impatient.” Bishop grumbled with all the enthusiasm of a 13-year-old brushing their teeth. “Ehhh it’s on the right, below his heart.”

Leo knew what he had to do. He stood up, the creature watching him as it braced itself for another attack. His swords clattered onto the ground. Weaponless, he held out his arms. “Mikey, I just want to let you know, that I don’t want to hurt you.”

The creature paused but then charged at him. Without hesitation, Leo redirected the attack, slamming his brother into the ground.

“But I will if I have to.” He finished.

It squirmed, struggling under the weight that had it pinned down. It wouldn’t be able to beat Leo in just a test of strength like this. The tentacles retracted from the mouth, allowing it to speak easier and use his brother's voice. “Do you want to know what your precious little brother thought of you?”

The creature reached back, clawing Leo’s arm. His grip loosened and it wriggled away, landing a hit on his stomach as if for revenge.

“He thought you were weak! Pathetic!” The monstrosity snarled. “Some sniveling shell of yourself that needed to be coddled because of how useless you are now.”

It threw another hit, one Leo reacted to slower than before. He stumbled back. “You don’t know anything about him.”

Its face split into a malicious grin. “Oh but I do. We spent so many hours together. Him and I, working on becoming just like the mighty krang!”

Leo tried to reach for its face but it easily evaded, forcing Leo to back up even more. “Mikey. Just listen to me for a moment, okay?”

It screeched, mouth open so wide that Michelangelo’s lips bled. “Your brother is gone! Your attempts to ‘reach him’ are pathetic drivel!”

Leo nearly tripped, backing into a long black slab, some mockery of a hospital bed in a torture room. He was backed into a corner. He took a shaky breath. “I know you were just trying to help. I’m not mad at you.”

The creature showed no hint of what it once was. It picked up one of Leo’s swords. He didn’t try to run. The sword raised high above the creature’s head.

Before it could swing down, however, Leo reached up and shifted its mask.

The blindness couldn’t have lasted longer than a second but that was all he needed. He knocked the sword away. Once off balance, he grabbed the mutant’s arm, swinging it over onto the slab. He untied the mask.

“What do you think you’re doing, you miserable wretch?” It snarled, moving to get up before Leo slammed it down again.

He took the bandana and bound its hands, tying it to the berth. It writhed and kicked but Leo merely reached for his sword, using his weight to keep his brother from moving away.

“I’m not giving up on you Mikey!” The krang had infested Mikey’s stomach, his very inner lining. Bishop had already told him the only way to get the krang out was to cut it out in its nesting space. He raised the sword.

“No! Have you gone mad?!” It almost sounded terrified.

Leo pressed on, plunging the sword onto his brother’s shelled stomach, pressing hard to get past the plastron. Blood gushed out, a small line at first and then a pool flooding out. The creature screamed, a sound so human it was hard to believe it was an alien.

“I never needed someone who could fix me.” He continued explaining, blade cutting through the flesh and fluids, a sickly squelching sound. Something bulged amid the gore, something beyond the gushing blood. He sliced it open. The krang burst through, a pink blob with eyes and teeth, more nerves attached than its larger counterpart. It cried out, trying to hide amidst the organs. “Because no matter what happens and no matter how badly you screw up…”

His sword was too bulky and he couldn’t risk cutting Mikey up anymore. He dropped it, clattering to the ground and painting the floor in more red. He plunged his hand into the mess, biting his tongue to try and fight back the bile. “I’m never going to abandon you! You’re my brother and no matter how many times you push me or struggle to be the person you used to be, I am never giving up on you. That was all I needed from you!”

His wrist was swallowed by the blood and organs, taut intestines entangling his hand as he pushed past them. But his fingers found purchase, the writhing creature caught in his grip. He pulled as hard as he could, strings of flesh and nerves ripping apart. Both Mikey and the creature screamed in agony. It didn’t give easy. But the parasite finally separated from his brother.

Leo fell backwards with it, breathing heavily as the creature bit and slapped at him in vain. He took only a moment to make sure he wouldn’t vomit before he addressed the audience who had watched the violent debacle. “Bishop. You had better patch up my brother and make sure he lives or else I’m going to get rid of your precious krang specimen.”

***

Mikey was in pain. That was one of the first things he was aware of, even before he was aware of himself. Not just the sharp burning in his abdomen but also the dull ache in his head, his arms, his everywhere. He struggled against the weight of sleep, fighting every step of the way to just open his eyes. His vision was a little too white and blinding, so he blinked a few times to get used to it. Leo’s face was full of worry and nervousness, his smile strained at the edges.

“Hey. How you feeling, Mikey?”

It only took him a few seconds to remember everything. To remember how he’d endangered everyone by trying to handle the krang himself.

“Leo.” Hot tears filled his eyes and he sat up on the bed, ignoring the screaming pain. “Leo, I’m so sorry.”

He held open his arms and they were in a hug instantly. Leo gave his younger brother a gentle squeeze, making sure to be careful with his injuries.

“I forgive you, Mikey. I meant what I said earlier.”

In some kinder universe he wouldn’t have been aware of the damage he had caused once the krang took over. But not here. Every agonizing second and sensation of hurting his family was catalogued in his memory. He held tight to Leo, sobs barely contained.

“Come on. Let’s get you home, big man.”

Mikey was thankfully still able to walk, although he was so weak he had to lean heavily against his brother.

Bishop waved them off as they left. “Pleasure doing business with you boys.”

Leo scoffed but otherwise let it go. Mikey kept his free arm firmly around his sides.

“My stomach still hurts so bad.” He hated how he sounded like he was whiny and ungrateful. But he couldn’t stand the thought of keeping anymore secrets, even a small one like how much pain he was in.

“I know, Miguel. It’s probably going to hurt for a long while.” There was sympathy in the slider’s eyes but still a soft smile on his face. “Bishop has the most advanced medicine he could steal. Considering what happened in there, you should probably be dead.”

Guilt settled on Mikey like a blanket, suffocating but also familiar. Leo picked up on the tension he unintentionally created and gentled bumped his younger brother with his arm.

“But I’m glad you’re not.” He finished.

“I’m sorry Leo. For making this whole mess. I thought I was protecting you.” His chest still burned from all the memories. He tried to distract himself from all the emotion he was feeling by asking a niggling question he’d had. “Did you really just give him that krang? I mean, I wasn’t really all that attached—” He watched Leo struggle not to make a joke “…I don’t care what happens to it, but I don’t want to help Bishop any more than I have to.”

His older brother grinned. “Don’t worry. Little detail in the fine print. I said I would let him have his experiment. I never said I would leave it for him alive.”

Mikey mirrored his smile before he got choked up again, trying not to cry. He’d forgotten how much of a crybaby he was without the krang infestation. “I’m scared to go back, Leo. I didn’t just hurt you. I hurt everyone. Nothing is going to be the same.”

Leo nudged him with his shoulder. “Hey. Come on. We go through those changes at least once a month. Nothing ever stays the same for long.”

Mikey nodded, trying to rub away his tears that just kept coming. Leo really wasn’t the best at being sincere in moments like these. That was Mikey’s thing. So he just slung his arm around his little brother as they headed home.

There were even more tears when they arrived (mostly from Raph), hugs and a very long lecture (also from Raph). Their home was still a mess, things overturned and quite a few chores that they had intended to finish last minute before Splinter and April came back. But all in all, it was good to be home.

They all smiled until they heard an angry voice ring out. “Boys! What happened to my favorite cushion?!”

[gothicastles]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers!

omg hi mere <3 ummm so this is gonna be so basic but here's my list:

1. my kitty cat. my baby boy. my son. light of my eyes. my personal demon and angel. my heart. my little guy. my stinky bestie. my one and only. the jesus to my mary. my old man. my guatoncito. my ray of light. he's like balm to my anxiety and air for my lungs. i love him.

2. books! like not only reading but being surrounded by tons of physical books. i love the smell of ink and pages and spending hours inside bookstores and libraries. also i think books are so pretty and nice to hold, and when they have fancy binding and beautiful covers it's like <3 the best thing ever <3

3. museums. on my trip to the uk we visited 11 museums in total and i've never had so much fun tbh. just being in rooms full of hundreds of years of art and history makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. and like, idk, to be reminded that you're part of such a rich interconnected web that involves all humanity is so inspiring and comforting. and it reminds you why art is so crucial to us and why we've felt the need to make it since the beginning of time. (also why AI art is so dull and souless. all my homies hate AI).

4. beverages !!!!!! one thing about me is i love a beverage. in the store you'll always find me in the beverage aisle searching for a new little drink to try out. and if it comes in a cute bottle with a fun design, even better. every morning before going to uni i'll get myself one of my fave drinks, and if i don't, i'll literally turn into a werewolf and start eating people. this is real, it really happens. some of my faves are chai latte, peach and apple juice, lemonade, homemade smoothies, and iced tea. you'll always find me with a beverage in hand. i can't study or concentrate in class if i don't have something to drink lmao. strangely, i've always hated coffee and also i don't drink alcohol so i'm sorry i can't recommend good booze xd.

5. my friends. nothing special but i adore my friends to death and i love spending time with them. without fail, i always come back home after hanging out with my buddies feeling light, hapy and loved. i have extremely supportive and non-judgemental friends and i feel so lucky every day that i get to spend my time with them. i can simply be myself knowing i won't be criticized. and we all have so much in common it's insane!!! i always think that if i only had a day left to live, i'd be more than content to just have all my friends in a room to just... be with them. exist alongside them. time spent with them is time spent well, always. sometimes i feel like my friends are my life's biggest gift and miracle and after having had the chance to meet them in this lifetime i don't have anything else to ask the universe for.

[dano-only-fics]

Brian (Fast Food Nation) - HCs

SFW headcanons for Brian <3 GN!Reader

Brian definitely listens to Nu Metal.

I would love for him to be into The Cure and Slowdive but lets be honest, that guy is 100% a Limp Bizkit fan with absolutely no irony. He genuinely thinks they are the epitome of cool.

Of course it is cool, but like, Brian is absolutely unaware of the fact people don't always think Slipknot is the coolest band to be into.

He definitely loves Beastie Boys too.

Surprisingly, he does shower pretty regularly.

Unsurprisingly, he doesn't wash his clothes enough.

Brian doesn't even bother with a sniff check.

(He's low-key kinda stinky)

You would definitely end up intervening.

"Brian I love you but you genuinely stink, man."

You two would be the dorky ass couple who were always bullying each other.

He tells you you're annoying on a daily basis, and you tell him he's a total loser.

Holding hands? Hells no. Noogies? Absolutely.

You make a pretty feral couple. You're both sarcastic as hell, lazy, with no respect for any kind of authority.

Stereotype teenage delinquents.

He acts like an asshole when you're around others, both of you just annoying the hell out of one another.

When you two are alone in his room, it's a different story.

He likes it when you just lie on top of him, giving him the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist and just feel your weight on him.

He lies with his head between your thighs, too, letting you play with his hair. You put little braids in it and he always ruffles them out afterwards. He likes to put his hands around your thighs and squeeze them gently.

Your first kiss was him was awkward.

He absolutely leaned in with his tongue out and his eyes half shut.

You did an "Ew, dude, what the fuck?"

He was so embarrassed, his face went hella red and he was devastated, thinking you were flat out rejecting him.

He had pretty much convinced himself into leaving Colorado forever when you placed your hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down so you could kiss him properly instead.

He was awestruck, but probably played it off with a mean joke.

Brian probably smokes weed, and if you're into that then you probably do it together a lot.

You probably drive out into the woods together and go find a nice spot to sit out and smoke. If you're walking through the woods then you would both throw fir cones at each other, turning it into a ruthless competition. You wouldn't even remember who struck first.

You'd hit him really hard in the back with one as he was picking more up and he'd drop them all and run at you, laughing, picking you up fast before you could get away and kissing you, your feet still off the ground.

(He's actually soft as hell.)

You'd both sit at the edge of a quarry and talk for ages about stupid hypotheticals and people you hated.

(He acts like he doesn't care, but he knows everything you like and don't like. He knows your personality so well and you always make him laugh.)

If the weather's good, neither of you would be against going for a swim in the blue quarry water.

Brian would definitely have to be convinced by you first.

You light fires and throw cans on them to watch them explode, sitting by it as the sun goes down and it gets dark.

If you get cold he might let you huddle into his side and wrap his big black hoodie over your shoulders.

When there's no one around to witness his gooey behavior, he'd wrap your hands in his and blow on them to warm them up.

Brian always seems to be warm, even when it's cold out.

At work, when Andrew makes a comment about you, Brian is immediately defensive. He really doesn't like anyone acting sleazy towards you.

That never stops him from making explicit jokes when both of you hang out with friends though.

This man is not above making a blowjob joke in front of all your friends.

Usually met with a "Ew, Brian. That's gross."

They're used to it though.

In public you two are just like best friends, messing around and arguing over dumb shit. Everyone knows you're dating him, but you're both kind of losers so no one pays much attention.

You borrow his band t-shirts all the time, provided they're clean.

You both wear matching string bracelets.

The most PDA either of you do is when you're hanging out with friends around the bleachers, one of you will lie with your head on the others lap while everyone talks.

He loves you to pieces. He does tell you, during the quiet moments when you just get to be happy and in love.

Basically, Brian is a sweetheart pretending to be an angsty asshole.

[moonbcrry]

Forget-Me-Not (teaser)

Tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

description: flowers in the tip box, lost memories, nightmares haunting in the cold of her bed... she knew something was off, something was missing. or maybe someone?

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, honestly i don't know much about first-aid sorry if i blathered those parts, lmk if there is anything i missed

A/N: the story takes place after spider-man: no way home , so spoiler!

** the story will be between 10-15 chapters, haven't decided to that yet. and i'm always open to your ideas and suggestions <3

*** also the other thing i'm hesitant about is, should i make the story reader insert or should i use an OC? let me know what you think!

masterlist | library | taglist

It’s been thirteen minutes since the clock hit twelve. The dim light coming from the kitchen was enlightening the empty diner except the young waitress taking the trash out. She grabbed two full bin liners, carrying them outside with a little struggle. She didn’t hate her job, she was doing her best to live her independent life dream, although she knew it was just a temporary job until she reaches her dreams.

She saw a lanky figure trying to step inside when she came back from the dumpster. At first, she was scared, only to realise he was one of their regulars. But her relief was short-termed. He stumbled to the door, whimpering as he held his rib. A gasp fell from her lips when the yellow street lamp lightened his face. “Oh my God! What the hell happened to you?”

“I – I just – “ she wrapped her arms under his shoulders, being guarded not to hurt him, “got beaten pretty badly.”

“I can see that,” she mumbled under her breath, helping him inside the diner. He settled on the diner booth with her help, gasping and whining at every contact. Her face scrunched as she watched him writhe in pain, his freshly scarred and bloody face wrinkling occasionally. “Okay sit down here, I’ll bring the first-aid kit.” She walked behind the bar.

“No need for that – I can just –” he shut his mouth rapidly the instant she glanced over her shoulder. She had this power over him, her eyes were enough for him to do anything. He’d kill, he’d die and he’d live just for the glimpse of her eyes. Regardless, he didn’t deserve any of this. It was selfish for him to be here, near her, where he could see her heart-warming eyes, where he could catch her addictive smile.

“Your name is Peter, right?” And her soft, silky voice… He wasn’t supposed to be here, it was all a mistake. “Right?”

With the wave of her hand in front of his face, he snapped out of his trance.“Yeah, Peter Parker.” She opened the kit, taking cotton and a small bottle in her hands. Her gaze met up his. She forced a smile, showing her hands.

“I’ll clean up your wounds first.” after his affirmation, she poured the stinky liquid on the cotton. “Tell me, how did this happen?”

“It’s – ouch!” he hissed as the alcohol burnt his open wound on his left eyebrow, she uttered a ‘sorry’ and gave an encouraging look at him to continue. “It was just a snatcher. No big deal.”

“A snatcher?” Her eyebrows arched, eyes meeting with his sweet brown pupils. You’re sweet yet secretive, Parker. “Stop lying, Parker. You’ve been beaten up by at least four guys,” she applied the plaster over his eyebrow, giving him a quick glance over as kept talking. “or the guy had eight arms. And they weren’t obviously a snatching gang, they don’t carry bats.” She saw the bruises on his right rib and arms while she helped him sit on the booth.

“How could you know that?”

“You need to be ignorant to not see that. Answer honestly, Parker.” She held his hand, cleaning the blood on his knuckles. The blood that didn’t belong to him. Should she find it soothing or worrying? “Are you in trouble with the Hedgehogs?” His pulse quickened under her touch, so she kept her hands remain on his wrists.

“Hedgehogs? No!” He was panicked and well aware she noticed it too. “Do I look like the type of guy to get in trouble with drug dealers?” He leant to her face, widening his eyes as if she could see his innocence.

She shrugged. “I don’t know anything about you, Parker. And you're a mysterious type of guy.” Yet again, those empty looks. Like nothing happened before, all of their memories flew away; and he never existed for her, for anyone but especially her.

“I wasn’t. I swear.” His words were filled with sincerity and warmth like she had no choice to believe him. Their faces were close, close as she didn’t want to be with a stranger, yet somehow she didn’t feel like he was a stranger. An old friend from far far away, that was what she felt about him. She remained silent, averting her eyes away, continued mending his wounds. Another familiar moment she felt when he was close.

He rose to his feet, walking towards the door.“Thank you for everything.” Peter smiled, this time genuinely, a contagious one that raced her heart which he felt it too. She got up after him, quickly gathering the bloody cotton and bandages on the table, trying to maintain this sudden wave of anxiousness. However that wasn’t easy whilst she felt his gaze on her, and that charming smile plastered on his lips.

“Can you walk home? I don’t have a car but –”

“Yeah, yeah. I totally can.” Peter’s smile spread on his face, seeing her flustered like this made him forget his regrets, all of his doubts were long gone. If he needs to do it all over again, if he needs to win her heart all over again; then he will. And she’ll understand it all, the day when explained everything.

She nodded, scratching her neck. “Alright, then. And Peter,”

“Yes?” he turned around, still the same smile glued on his face. The smile that was about to drop.

She tilted her head, trying to be sure about her suspicions. Before speaking, she glanced at him, eyeing head to toe one last time. She was right. “Why did you change your clothes before coming here?”

A panic embraced Peter, he did his best to maintain his shaky voice.“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” she smiled. “Good night.” You’re mysterious, Parker and nothing mysterious can fling off of my hands.

[shozaii]

could I request some dabi, aizawa and hawks taking care of their s/o who is maybe sick or has had a rough day? 💕

(a/n): hello hello anon! ahh thank you so much for sending this in! always wanted to write for dabi too <3 enjoy, love! ❤❤

masterlist.

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

rough day.

pairings: dabi x reader, aizawa x reader, hawks x reader.

warnings: none!

i’d like to think that dabi does care, and would even go as far as he could to show you that he does. maybe when you two first started dating, he would tend to be a little reserved, quiet.

well, of course he has the love. of course he has the affection. then again, of course he has to take time to ease himself with you - to give his all for his s/o.

a scenario; it was a long, long day of constant stress and pressure. it wasn’t like your body wasn’t used to this. you knew what you signed up for - might as well endure it, put your heart and soul into it when you can. after all, rest would always come later on.

or so you thought. it went even longer, the more you started thinking of your bed. more jobs, more deadlines within a day. more ruckus. geez, what was with the world today?

the world took most of your precious time, because by the time you stepped your foot into home, it was nighttime.

more like, the next morning.

you groaned, looking at the time. 

“babe...? your boyfriend called out in what seemed like a groggy voice. “damn, look at you. rough day?”

your figure sloppily fell into dabi’s chest, inhaling his enthralling scent. he let out a little ‘oof’ before saying, “you did, huh. come on, stinky. bath time.”

your arms have never felt this tired after so long, because when it reached out to punch him by the chest, it wobbled. “i have a name, you know.”

“yeah. stinky.”

“shut up.”

mans came prepared. doesn’t show it but he’s super duper aware of your schedule. doesn’t need to write it down, doesn’t need any reminder. on the dot. a fine gentleman indeed.

leads you carefully to the bath he prepared for you. he helps you scrub your back (i headcanon him being a master of massaging) he then pecks your scars/stiff areas. “seen this a lot on the shows. hope it works.”

yup, you both had a good laugh after that.

he then gives you your towels. offers to dry your hair because you nearly tucked yourself into bed while your hair was still soaking wet. 

even bought you your favorite dinner, and then chuckled softly when he watched you yawn as you rested your jaw on your palm. “bed.”

“wow. another way of saying, take me to bed, my dear prince,” his gosh darn attractive smirk appeared again. 

oh my god he is a sucker for you. 

when you both are finally on bed,  he pulls you close, peppering you with the last few kisses before you both fell sound asleep. the best part is that sometimes you two stay like that until the next morning.

oh wow. let’s be real here, we have three wonderful gentlemen in this area. now aizawa is a little different. he knows what rough days are like, especially when he himself has gone through them. almost everyday. 

resulting in the yellow sleeping bag. 

but that does not stop you from caring for him. most nights when he returns home late, you treat him like a king because hey, he deserves it. he works so hard taking great care of his students, watching them overnight at the dorms (which results in no sleep). ah, the things you do make him so happy and loved.

so he vows to do the same to you. 

this time he was home earlier than usual - which was weird because usually you come home first. he checked every room, but to no avail. he tried calling you, but you didn’t answer.

okay, weird. where were you? maybe he’s been so used to seeing you return first till the point where he completely forgets about your schedules - basically anything you were doing. and damn does he feel terrible. 

which is why he decides to own up to it.

mans dashes through the apartment, getting the stuff that you like, ditching the stuff that you didn’t like seeing when you got back home, made sure he was wide awake for what he was about to see right in front of him - a representation of him (except that it’s not his son shinsou) or you, still in your best form.

.....maybe he didn’t need to think of the second choice. he was right with the first.

“my back hurts. so, so, bad,” you whined softly as he walked towards you.

“come on, kitten.”

“you should’ve gone to bed, shouta.”

“unfortunately my senses told me not to.”

“but they tell you that everyday.”

“....today was different.”

he lets you sit down on the couch for a bit, worried that you might as well collapse and then fall into the deepest sleep. once that was settled, he lightly tapped your shoulder. “you rested enough. bath time.”

conversations stay light with shouta. he knows what it’s like to be tired, and to constantly have noise around him. at the same time, he doesn’t want you sleeping; hence the small talk.

“are you sure, love?” you asked him. “you know i can-,”

“too late.”

you laughed drowsily. oh, what a man.

he frowns when you were hesitant to take a few bites from the light supper snack he prepared for you. they were your favorite.

“eat up. then we could sleep for as long as we want. i’ll even join you and never leave.”

best wild card pulled out of his pocket because you chomped down on your snack.

i headcanon him to be a little scared when it comes to massaging his s/o, worried that he might hurt them, but when he does, it’s god-tier. his hands work like magic. your back pain was almost all gone in that instant.

the both of you were already pooped out, so at the same time, you headed to bed, finally landing on your fluffy pillows, taking it all in.

and right next to you was the man of your dreams.

okay! two rough day scenarios, now for this majestic bird boy’s s/o who isn’t feeling well!

you weren’t at your best. your nose was runny, you sweat a whole lot. for a while you felt really really hot, so you put on your blanket. suddenly you were freezing COLD. pulled them back up.

gave up and covered one half of your figure. your headache was not getting any better and you used ointment/took a painkiller to get rid of the stinging pain on the top part of your head; but to no avail. it kept getting worse. 

the worst part was that you had to skip your work schedule, and you were really precise with it no matter what. but you just couldn’t when your body hurt as if tons of rocks were placed on your back. this was definitely not going to end soon.

lucky for you, keigo was taking a nap right next to you. he got up abruptly. “um, i had a nightmare. i was...falling down....oh my god, y/n, you are RED! what did you have?”

“i had the same thing as you dummy,” you replied with a different tone in your voice. “ugh, my head.”

“you’re sick, chickadee.” he placed the back of his hand on his forehead. “nothing.” he then did so on your forehead. “you are burning hot.”

“why thank you.”

“y/n, i love you but i’m serious. your temperature is soaring hot.”

“aw, man. i can’t ditch my schedule today.”

“in this house, a ‘schedule’ does not exist. you’re staying at home, and i’m going to spend the day with you. got that?”

you blinked a few times with your sore eyes, before replying with a sniffle. “okay.”

“good little birdie.”

and boY does he finesse his way to giving you the best treatment. 

he may or may not have learnt making chicken soup over the years he has been with you, so cue him making probably the best one for you. (we all know why he learnt this anyway)

feeling cold? gives you warm water for your sore throat. feeling warm? puts a little stand fan for you to take in all the fresh air. might as well even fan you with his wings because keigo loves being extra for his s/o. 

he sits with you and holds your hand. he doesn’t like seeing you like this - who does? all he wanted to do was to head out with you, hold hands, fly with you if he could, eat some yakitori.

no, no. must cure y/n first.

he’s such a cute lil baby 

he’d place the wet cloth on your forehead, and comes checking on you every 10 minutes while he’s out of the room. 

bath time? yes please. the right scents for your already blocked nose and to also prevent you from feeling dizzy from the stronger ones that you owned. even offers to wash your back 🥺

gives you his clothing because you look so darn cute in them. he breathes this huge sigh of relief when your temperature decreases from where it was initially. then proceeds to kiss your cheeks.

“keigo! you’re going...to...get...sick!” 

“i’m practically immune. so don’t worry.” he smirked.

you started feeling a little bit better, so you moved to the living room. but the pains were still there.

“y/n. these medicines would help. you came prepared.”

“that’s because i was worried i’d get the flu once again. i hate this.”

“come on. it’s fine, love. you will get back in action in no time. i’m here for you, aren’t i?”

the day ends with more cuddles, more kisses, chicken soup, laughter, little naps, and finally to bed. it was a long day, and you were feeling a lot more better. the fever died down even more, the pains reduced.

and it was all thanks to this lovely number two hero - more so - your lover.

“get well soon, birdie. i love you.” you heard before your eyelids sealed shut.

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

(a/n) : i. am. so. sorry. this took so long. ARGHH FORGIVE ME😭😭😭

but i do hope this is a wonderful read! 🥺❤

[moons-and-stars-and-shit]

Okayyyy so here’s what I’m Thinking. Bokuto was well known in Tokyo and everyone knew not to mess with him. He met reader at a book shop she worked at. He found her very interesting. The reader is a bit shy. They became friends and started liking each other. She didn’t know that he was in the maifa until she saw him kill someone. He then tired to tell her it’s not what it looked like but reader was afriad of him and ran home. She avoided him for weeks until he showed up at her door with flowers and a bunch of gifts and begged her to talk. - 🍒

𝙼𝚊𝚏𝚒𝚊! 𝙱𝚘𝚔𝚞𝚝𝚘 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙲𝚆: 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙼𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛/𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑, 𝙶𝚞𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍, 𝙺𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚝𝚘 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2.5

Oh god

It was moments like these where you wish you could just travel back in time...or at the very least erase your memory...but life won't give you those options, so the only option you have now is to run.

6 Months Ago…

"Ah yes there's nothing quite like this" you thought to yourself flipping to the next page of your favorite book. You really loved working in the local bookshop. Your friends would always joke around how it fitted your “aesthetic” so well. Not that you could disagree though, you couldn't deny that you loved evenings like these, where the rain was pouring outside while you were inside the building reading a book. The faint smell of coffee from the coffee shop next door being the cherry on top to this little vibe you had going on. “Y/n! Do you think you could close up shop for me? I gotta go pick up my brother from practice before this rain gets too crazy". You were brought back into reality by your co-workers request. “Oh for sure! Go ahead.i'll take care of it” you said putting down your book. She thanked you before grabbing her coat and heading outside. You looked up at the clock making a mental note to start closing up in about 20 minutes. Suddenly your train of thought was interrupted by the shop's door opening, causing the little bell on top to jingle. Thinking it was your co-worker you turned around to ask what she had forgotten only to be face to face with a man.

Uhm...Hey! Do you mind if i stay here until this storm dies down?” the male asked you. Giving him a quick look up and down you took notice just how drenched he was, from his grey and black hair dripping and sticking to his face, to his clothes that might as well have been dunked in water with how wet they have gotten. “O-Oh of course! Please come in'' you stuttered after realizing you had been staring at him just a second too long. You quickly ran to the back to grab the blanket you and your co-worker use whenever it gets too cold in the store. Running back to the front you hand the mystery man the blanket. “This won't do much for the clothes but maybe you can at least get your hair dry” you say as he takes the blanket. “Thank You so much!” he said beaming. There was a bit of awkward silence as he dried his hair off, but the silence was broken when he handed you back the blanket. “You're not much of a talker are you?” he said with a light chuckle. He made his way over to one of the reading chars and took a seat, motioning for you to do the same. “Yeah uh...sorry I'm a bit shy! Especially around strangers who just happen to walk into my bookshop” you said making your way to sit next to him. Once you had sat down he looked at you with shining eyes and a oh so bright smile “Well if that's the problem” he said holding his hand out to you ”I'm Bokuto Koutarou!”. You laughed a little at his enthusiasm before grabbing his hand “Well Bokuto, it's nice to meet you, I'm Y/n”

That night was the first of many that you'd be spending with Bokuto, in fact after that night he had become a frequent customer at the bookshop, always coming at the later hours, and always keeping you company whenever you started closing up. Hell he's even taken you out for drinks a couple times after your shift. You have never been one to trust strangers, let alone become good friends with them but shockingly enough, you felt rather comfortable around this strange man. Maybe it was his bright personality, or the way his eyes seemed to sparkle wherever he laid them on you, or even the way that his laugh caused a giggle or two to escape from your own lips. Either way you liked this Bokuto Koutarou, and if only you knew how much Bokuto liked you as well. Lucky both of your feelings would come to light on a night similar to the night Bokuto magically waltzed into your life...

Here you both were, sitting on the very same chairs you had introduced yourselves in. Only this time, you were both reading your respective books. However this peace was soon interrupted by a whiny Bokuto. “Y/nnnn I'm so boredddd” Bokuto said slamming his book shut. You put your bookmark in your book before closing it and looking at his puppy dog eyes ``Y'know for someone who comes into a bookshop so often, you're not that interested in books are you?” you told him with a smirk. “Hey! I'm smart enough without the help of your stinky books'' he said tapping the book against your head.. You grabbed the book from his hands and stuck your tongue out, watching as he plopped back on his self proclaimed “personal reading chair”. “Besides, I only ever really come to this shop to spend time with you”. You blushed at his small comment but not wanting your feelings to get the best of you quite yet, you decided to “test” these waters you were trending in. “What? You got a crush on me or something?” you said giving him a playful nudge. Now it was his turn to blush. It was silent for a beat to long and you were about to take back what you had just said, but you were quickly cut of when Bokuto took your hand, looked you dead in your eyes with a look that sent shivers down your spine “Would you hate me if I did?” he asked you in a soft tone, almost like a child admitting they broke something to their parent, a big contrast from his usual loud and confident voice. Instead of responding you simply squeezed his hand and cupped his face with the other “I would never hate you, especially if i feel the same way about you” Not being able to hold back anymore he simply grabbed your face and pulled you in for a soft but passionate kiss.pulling away he looked at you with all the love in the world “Y/n, I really want to be with you, but… there's a part of my life that you've never seen and I don't want to lose you over that” he told you, his eyes beginning to gloss over. Still pretty confused about what he was talking about you only took his face in your hand once more “Kou I will love you no matter what. Even your ugly parts”. Bokuto pulled you into a hug, trying to hide the tears that were falling freely from his eyes now. “Y-You promise?”

“I Promise”

Present Day

Thinking about that night still caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach. But now as you were running towards your apartment as if you were running from the grim reaper himself you couldn't ignore the feeling of dread that was sitting next to those butterflies. Had you really just seen that? Did you really just see your loving goofball of a boyfriend kill someone? It was supposed to be a normal night. You had closed the shop and were beginning to walk back home when you saw familiar spiky hair across the road. Curiosity had got the best of you, so… you decided to investigate. What you didn't expect to see was your boyfriend holding a gun to a man's head. It had all happened so fast first the crack of the gun, then your scream, then Bokuto's horrified expression as he turned and saw you standing there with your hand over your mouth. Before Bokuto could even try to explain what he had done, you ran. You ran away as if he was going to point the gun at you next.

Finally. Finally you were safe in your apartment. Your lungs felt like they were on fire, and your legs felt like absolute jelly. All you could do was collapse to the floor and break down crying. The scene from earlier replaying over and over in your head, causing you to get even more hysterical. Suddenly your phone started buzzing. You picked it up, as if you didn't already know who it was calling. The image of your boyfriend's face appeared on your screen, he looked nothing like the man who you had just seen commit that heinous deed. Suddenly anger took over your senses and you threw your phone across the room, returning to your fetal position to cry all your emotions out, eventually crying yourself to sleep

When you had finally awoken the sun was rising and the birds outside were singing their spring songs. You pulled yourself off of the floor before making your way to your phone across the room. "Damn it" you thought. Of course you had cracked your screen. Turning the phone on you was bombarded by hundreds of missed calls and text messages from your boyfriend. Could you even call him that any more? Would you really look at the man you saw kill and call him your boyfriend? Opting not to answer any of his messages or return any of his calls, you blocked him and went to go make you some tea, hoping to calm your still frazzled nerves”

The next few days were pretty quiet you hadn't even dared to leave your apartment, let alone even show up at work. You had called out telling your co-worker that you came down with a terrible cold and wouldn't be in for a couple of days. Sitting alone in your apartment during this time really gave you time to think about the events you had witnessed that night. Is this what Bokuto was talking about that night he confessed to you? Is this what he was afraid of losing you over? you couldn't really blame him if it was. But still, he could have at least warned you about this part of his life, or at the very least act like he was a cold blooded killer! You still couldn't bring yourself to think that the man you had cuddled in bed with, the man you had taken walks in the park with, the very man who opted to release a spider instead of killing it, would actually have it in him to kill an actual person. Suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Still a little on edge you jumped at the sudden sound before that familiar sense of dread flooded your stomach. “Well gotta face the music some time” you breathed out slowly walking towards the door.

When you had opened the door you were practically tackled into a hug by a very hysterical Bokuto. You froze at the sudden contact “How could a man hug you with the very same hands he took someone's life with?" You thought as you gently pushed him off you. “Y/n I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now but-” he was interrupted when you raised your hand. “You have 10 minutes to explain yourself then you either need to leave, or I'm calling the cops” you told him motioning for him to come inside. Bokuto practically jumped at the opportunity to finally explain himself to you and hopefully make you understand why he did what he did.

Each of you took a seat at your dining table. It was time for you to get answers... “Ok for starters, why are you here?” you started staring at him coldly. “Well you weren't answering any of my calls or texts and whenever I stopped by the bookshop you were never there, so I got worried” he replied fiddling with his thumbs. You slowly nodded at his answer. “So are you gonna tell me what the hell happened that night or are you just gonna sit there” you spat at him almost angrily. He flinched at your words before taking a deep breath “Well what did you see?” he asked. That was it for you. You slammed your hands on the table, not able to control your anger any more. “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN WHAT DID I SEE?!?!? I SAW YOU FUCKING KILL SOMEONE KOUTAROU!!” you screamed at him standing up from your seat.”I DID IT TO PROTECT YOU!” he shouted back at you, throwing his hands up in the air. You both stared at each other in teary silence. “Y/n please let me explain… then you can hate me or kick me out i don't care! Just please…” you huffed before sitting back down, doing your best to hold back your own tears. “Ok” he said, trying to find a way to tell you everything “My family has always been a part of the mafia” he started, “When I turned 18 it was time for me to “take over” the family business” your mouth fell open, since he was 18? He's been doing this since he was 18? “When I first met you, I never ever wanted to tell you how much you meant to me because I never wanted you to find out about this part of my life, or even worse...I never wanted this part of my life to find out about you” he continued. You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean “find out about me”” you asked him. “I mean, that if my rivals found out about you and I, they would start to come after you”. Your eyes widened at this. “S-so that guy you shot-” “was trying to kill you” he said finishing off your sentence. He then looked up at you, visible tears in his eyes. “I'm so sorry Y/n I never wanted to put you in any sort of danger but-” you had cut him off when you smashed your lips against his. All this time you had thought he killed that man out of cold blood. Not once did you even consider he was doing it for you. He kissed you back before pulling you into the tightest hug. “Y-your not mad?” he blubbered out. “Not anymore,” you said, smiling at him. “ I just wish you would have told me,” you said. “But I didn't want to lose you…” he whispered in your ear. One last time, you took his face into both of your hands. “Bokuto Koutarou I love you” you said, letting the tears fall from your eyes. He laughed a soft laugh “even the ugly parts?” he asked you

“Even the ugly parts”

[wincore]

sweet tooth | dong sicheng

pairing: vampire!sicheng x reader

words: 2.8k

summary: out of all the inconveniences a vampire boyfriend could pose, there’s about two tonight: a) him losing it at the next person who compliments his fangs, or b) you losing it at sicheng’s 100% blood alcohol content

genre: vampire!au, boyfriend!au, college!au, (tooth-rotting) fluff, comfort, humour

warning(s): mentions of blood, alcohol consumption, college halloween parties

song rec(s): candy - baekhyun // wish you were sober - conan gray

a/n: let’s pretend it’s halloween pls <3 also im sorry it’s so short and more drabble-ish but i wanted to write something gentle and comforting so!!! yeah ^^ also there is no plot. eep.

It’s two in the morning.

Or rather, it feels like two in the morning. 

A frat party is a horrible substitute for an actual Halloween party. The alcohol content is through the roof and the number of pairs making out is enough to make you feel queasy. You never knew horror themes had the innate ability to make people so flagrantly horny—you’re half glad you’re not, god forbid, single. Most of your friends were too busy, however, to organize the close-knit party you usually have each year—so here you are, with an invitation from a friend of a friend (of a friend). Your boyfriend might be the only one feeling more out of place than you are.

You glance at Sicheng from the pool table, the cup frozen against his lips while his eyes scan the room from corner to corner. You don’t do crowds and neither does he; though he does have the unwitting ability to charm any crowd he’s in. You’re not quite sure if he’s still unaware of that.

You watch as a girl you can easily recognize from your campus approach him, all smiles and giggles. She says something and you scoff, almost completely certain about what it is she said.

Sicheng might be unaware of it—but you are, and painfully so.

She looks at him starry-eyed and the scent of rum wafting around her. A part of her jacket is off her shoulder, a faint blush covering her cheeks that you can spot even under the dim lights. She’s definitely flirting—you know that because rumours go around faster than assignments in this university. Choi Joohee has a very public, very open crush on your boyfriend.

It’s not like it bothers you. Not at all.

Just a little bit.

Jealousy has never been your thing and you’re half certain what you’re feeling isn’t even jealousy—just a taste of alcohol and the proximity of a Halloween house party.

Speaking of which, the only thing harrowing about this place is the amount of alcohol everyone seems to be consuming—including your boyfriend. Ten dragged Yukhei home a while ago and a part of you is still not confident enough to handle a boyfriend with very pointy fangs and midnight cravings for blood (or juice, as Ten disgustingly phrases it). 

Sicheng nods along to something Joohee asks, an eyebrow raised quizzically on her and you assume he’s been zoning out the whole time. The urge to laugh surfaces and you swallow it whole. He’s so cute, even in this state. The lights dance across his face; candy blue, rich purple, saccharine red. The colours don’t help him stand any straighter, or slur his words any less.

You think it’s time to help your boyfriend out. However, the moment you walk through the swarms over to them, Joohee’s face sours. Of course, as the only competition (is it a competition if you’ve already won?) to the object of her affections, you don’t rank too high in her books. It made you a little upset at first, but you got used to it. (“She’ll get over it,” Sicheng had reassured several times. “Don’t worry.”)

People grow, and with that thought, you let it be.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Joohee tells Sicheng and walks away, like he’s supposed to follow her.

You roll your eyes and turn to Sicheng, who’s had a very delayed response to Joohee’s departure. His head is tilted to the side, eyes half-lidded and you’re almost afraid he’s going to drop to the floor right there and then. This is bad. The thing about vampires is that they absolutely should not, under any circumstance, have alcohol. Calling your boyfriend a lightweight is beyond an understatement.

“Sicheng,” you call softly. 

He turns to you, taking a moment to process, before pulling his lips into a wide smile. His fangs poke out even when he presses his lips back together, a contemplatory look over him.

“I thought you left me here.” He forces a sardonic smile.

Drunk off his ass and Sicheng still manages to be annoyingly sarcastic.

You open your mouth and close it again. It’s not like you can chide him without letting your fondness show. The Adonis features that grace his face don’t help. Flushed all the way to the neck, a drunk Dong Sicheng is very rare. The last time this happened must have been at least two years ago (and though you weren’t there then, the way Ten and Kun freeze up at the slightest mention, you decided to not ask).

“Why did you drink?” you ask, huffing. “You can’t even smell alcohol.”

There’s a short pause.

“Because you were ignoring me,” he replies, leaning in.

Heat washes into your cheeks. You forgot how unrestrained he gets with alcohol in his system.

Sicheng seems to have enough consciousness left in him to feel somewhat embarrassed, standing up straight and fiddling with his thumbs. You slip your hand into his without delay and pull, trying your best to navigate through the crowd. Is an ordinary Halloween party too much to ask for? Just when you can finally spot the front door, Sicheng stops abruptly, making you stumble backwards into his chest. He smells like the old deodorant he’s been using for a year underneath the smell of beer and… is that blood?

“Where are we going?” he asks sharply.

“Home, Sicheng,” you whine. “You can stay in my bed.”

He stays rooted in place stubbornly, and you wonder what it is now. This is the time you have to wonder if you’re dating a (potentially) immortal creature or a recently birthed baby.

“We should enjoy more. You’ve hardly smiled the past few weeks,” he mutters.

Your heartbeat spikes for a moment, when he brushes the hair from your face. All this time and he hasn’t changed the words he offers to you in private, the care on his lips and fingertips. A room full of people who aren’t listening is the best place to talk.

The first time you saw Sicheng was in the middle of the night, in the dark hallway of your shared apartment building, blood staining his jaw from a bag he’d acquired from med student Wong Kunhang. (You’re very sure that’s illegal.)

Needless to say, you’d fainted immediately after. When you came to, you were met with a man with pretty eyes and fangs poking out his mouth and in a bed that wasn’t yours. There was no blood this time but you screamed anyway, cut off by the man’s hand over your mouth.

“Calm down,” he said, voice surprisingly deep. “It’s not like I’m going to kill you.”

“You were planning to kill me?” you asked, panicking.

“I just said I wouldn’t,” he replied quietly, eyes wide and almost as stressed as you are.

Sicheng heaves a sigh, massaging his forehead. You shake yourself off the memories, tugging at his shirt so you can sit somewhere at least. The alcohol must have numbed his ears too. The low R&B tunes make no sense on Halloween night; even less when they’re played a few bars above the acceptable volume. If you’re not out of here soon, you might lose your hearing altogether.

The couch is slightly less stinky than you would have expected. (You grimace as you think to the last time you were at a frat party and in particular, the vomit.) Beside you, Sicheng mumbles about something you’re not quite sure of, a quiet rant with one-track emotions. It makes you giggle and for a moment, you forget the predicament of being stuck with a drunk vampire boyfriend who has just finished teething.

“Hey, guys.”

You look up to see Jihoon, the very friend of a friend (of a friend) who had invited you to this mess. It’s not like you harbour ill feelings towards him; but the guy has approximately zero ability to read the room. It’s mostly funny.

Sicheng makes a vague gesture that you assume means ‘hello’, sitting up straight so he doesn't look noticeably tipsy. You make light conversation with Jihoon, Sicheng’s arm around your waist tightening reflexively. You don’t plan on party-hopping, no matter how much Jihoon urges the two of you—seriously, does he not see the look on Sicheng’s face? He looks more zombie than vampire.

“You know, you don’t actually have to wear costumes for this, right? We didn’t set a theme,” Jihoon remarks, tilting his head to face your boyfriend. “The fangs are really cool, though. Holy shit. Dude, they look so real.”

Sicheng’s lips twitch but he forces them into a smile, trying to move as far away from Jihoon as possible. The fangs are usually not out and about in the open, slightly retracted during the day. The night, however, keeps him on edge. Sicheng hates the spotlight that only ever shows up for the wrong reasons, and he’d much rather graduate without having to deal with horny vampire-lovers. (It’s not that sexy; and you know from experience.) 

The way Sicheng looks makes you wonder how many people have pointed out the fangs tonight. You purse your lips to keep yourself from laughing.

“Thanks,” he responds, voice his usual deep baritone. 

Jihoon leaves after being unable to draw any more conversation out of Sicheng, some peace gracing you despite everything.

If you ever write a book on how to deal with vampire boyfriends, the first rule would be to never kiss him at night. The fangs are not as withdrawn then and they hurt. (The second is, of course, to never let them get a whiff of alcohol.)

When Sicheng first kissed you, it was midnight and you were at the convenience store to buy a few lunchboxes and instant coffee mix. You’d yelped when his fang had pricked your lower lip, alarming the worker and around fifteen minutes of (dishonest) explanation later, the two of you had left without buying what you came for.

After fretting for a while, Sicheng had kissed you once more with careful consideration—till the damn fangs got in the way again. It was sweet for a moment—like candy—though, the metallic taste of blood had invaded it afterwards. No matter how awkward or painful it was, your elation outweighed the rest. 

Kisses weren’t the only thing interrupted by fangs.

The turtlenecks and scarves certainly raised an eyebrow in your circle of friends. There was concern at first, then teasing and then a whole lot of inside jokes which made you want to smack each and every one of them. (“They’re hickeys, I swear, not vampire bites,” you had informed Ten. “Ew. I did not need to know that.” “Shut up.”)

Even so, Sicheng is warm—always has been, and not on the skin.  

You feel pressure on your shoulder, his hair tickling your neck and you adjust yourself so it’s more comfortable. 

“Tired?” you ask.

“Not at all.”

You shake your head at his lie. Gently pushing his head away, you get up from your seat and pull him up with all of your strength. Linking your arm through his, you smile at him when he raises an eyebrow. It’s time to get home, you’ve decided and these are times when one vote is enough. 

When you reach the front door, stumbling out with your suddenly talkative boyfriend, the autumn breeze hits you. Under the moonlight, the rosy hue over his cheeks is clearer and even more so when he smiles.

“It’s like our first date,” he says. 

You smile back at him.

“You were so embarrassing,” he adds.

Your smile drops and you smack his arm, eliciting a soft complaint from him.

Your first date was the only normal thing in this relationship—a date at the amusement park on Halloween, a bunch of kids mistaking your now boyfriend for Count Dracula and caramel popcorn smeared over your fingers. 

Sicheng sighs, lowering his head to rest his forehead against your shoulder. The two of you stay like that for a moment or two, the party music finally fading and Sicheng’s warmth seeping into you. You fix the lapels of his jacket absentmindedly, fingers tracing over the material. His hands rest lightly against your back yet still secure. 

A kitten lick at your neck jolts you back to reality. You gently push him by the shoulders, finding his fangs bared already. He stays unmoving for a few seconds before closing his mouth and going back to leaning against you, breath falling in waves against your neck.

“I’m not your juicebox, Sicheng,” you snap, frown deepening.

“But you have so much blood,” he mumbles, his forehead hot against your shoulder.

“Sicheng.”

He sobers up a little, pulling back with a stream of pouting apologies. You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling. Despite everything, your boyfriend is such a child sometimes. There’s a short pause.

“But wait, don’t go biting someone else’s neck,” you quickly add, flustered.

Sicheng suppresses a smile.  

“So I can have a little—”

“No.”

Sicheng pouts but agrees enough to follow you, the two of you moving soundlessly over the sidewalk. Being alone with him has always been easing; you don’t need a crowd for comfort. 

With fingers interlaced, you walk alone with him as the orange street lights cast shadows on the buildings lined up. A few more blocks and you’ll reach your apartment, get to push Sicheng into bed and pray he doesn’t throw up at your front door—and yet still, you walk as slow as you can as if the autumn wind will be gone as quick as it arrived.

The number of people shrink the further you get from the party, and you heave a sigh of relief, glad to be away from, what you and your friends call, the rich neighbourhood. The familiar path to your apartment, no matter the pricing, has much better air to breathe in. It’s past midnight and yet, you can see the city lights in the distance, the ones that never sleep—for the living or the dead.

Something runs into your legs and you jump onto Sicheng, who in turn flinches away with a strangled yelp. 

You look down to see a giant golden retriever in a white blanket which you assume is meant to be a ghost outfit. It wags its tail, sniffing around your boyfriend’s legs, making him giggle as he crouches down to pet the creature.

“I’m so sorry!” 

You look up to find a young girl holding a pumpkin almost as large as her head, an apologetic look over her head. Some part of you is happy to see a costume, considering you were robbed of yours. (Sometimes you dream of matching costumes but again, the damn fangs.)

“Piri loves people, I’m so sorry if he bothered—oh hey dude, cool fangs.”

Sicheng offers the fakest smile ever, accompanied with a thumbs up gesture. You sigh, apologizing to the girl before parting ways. 

“That’s the eighth time tonight,” Sicheng says, scowling almost. “I counted.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand. Calm, relaxed Dong Sicheng tends to lose it at repetitive comments with only three sips of beer.

When you reach the apartment building, clouds cover the moon and you draw your jacket closer to yourself. You think for a moment about the inevitability of time and whether you’re even allowed to fall in love this way. You push the thoughts aside almost inevitably. When the time comes, you will have a decision to make—and after everything, it is love which turns people. 

For now, you can enjoy this Halloween night with your (literally) one-of-a-kind boyfriend.

You fumble around with the keys, Sicheng looking at you with sleepy eyes as he leans against the wall. He must be worn out from the alcohol by now.

“Hey,” he calls, the words more muffled than usual. 

You raise an eyebrow, tugging him inside all the while maintaining your balance.

“You know my favourite blood type?” he continues.

You shake your head. “If you’re thinking of feeding, I’ll get some blood bags from Kunhang.”

Sicheng pouts. “You ruined the line.”

“Huh?”

“Yours. Yours is my favourite blood type.”

Despite the terrible execution of his so-called pick-up line, you find yourself shaking with laughter. You’re not sure if it’s the late night or the October air—the two of you share the silliest of laughter at the doorway to your apartment.

Within the moment itself, Sicheng leans in to kiss you and your hands move to run through his hair out of habit. The taste of beer and the prick of his fangs makes you pull away. You look at each other for a moment before you give in anyway and kiss him against the doorframe.

October ends with memories—your first date, Sicheng’s cooking disaster, and now this. It’s blissful for the few moments the two of you let it be. That is, until Sicheng opens his mouth.

“Oh, by the way, can you apologize to Ten for me? I think I bit him thinking it was you.”

“Sicheng, what the fuck?”

October ends with proximity, sweet as candy and warm as toast—stumbling into bed with all that and more.

[sideblogformindtrash]

SUMMER OF WHUMP - DAY 4 - ABANDONED

Mind the huge cw. Is mostly just discussing it, but still.

CW: Insinuated no-con; past-abuse; relieving past trauma; abandonment; very low self esteem; humiliation; accidental triggering; bait dog; whipping; starvation; shoved in luggage bag; bitten by mice; gross food; claustrophobia; burns; no-con drugging; no-con touching; mentioned amputation; pet whump; multiple whumpers; human trafficking; muzzle; starvation; neglect; manhandling; cruel/intimate/neglectful whumpers;

“H-hello and welcome to BB’s and Pastel’s show!” ...Pastel turned the octopus plush around as BB turned the camera on. It went from a pink, smiley octopus, to it’s frowning gray insides. Pastel pulled the blankets over his head, leaving only his eyes out “...I’ll be your host, BB, and this is my assistant, Mr.Tonsils!”

BB lifts Mr.Tonsils in front of the camera, waiving his little furry paws so he can say hello to their audience. They pick up the camera, and take it to the bed with Pastel, capturing his pretty pink-ish eyes. 

“C-come on Pastel! Say hi!”

Pastel shifts slightly under the blanket.

“I’m… Not a fan of cameras, BB'' his voice is just a whisper, as he twists the blanket. BB thinks he is kneeling “...I’ll just… be your audience today, okay?”

“O-oH! Sorry!” BB stepped away. That was right. Pastel didn’t have good memories about that. BB pointed it away, making sure only they and Mr.Tonsils were on frame. Pastel seemed to relax, even sitting back and lowering his blanket cocoon “...So, due to technical issues, Pastel won’t be joining us tonight. But that 's okay. BB and Mr.Tonsils are here to entertain you!”

BB smiled, making sure to show the missing little teeth. Just like Blue. Just like Blue… before, at least. 

“...Well, for tonight’s show me and Mr.Tonsils prepared a top 15 review!” BB wasn’t sure if it really classified as such. But it sure sounded nice “BB will be going over all of our old homes!”

They noticed as Pastel frowned, suddenly changing their expression, way more alert. BB only felt more excited. If Pastel was paying attention, it clearly meant the topic of the video was interesting! Audiences would love it! Even… Even if this was never going to be aired. BB could picture the audiences!

...With a deep breath, they braced themselves and started. They had prepared for this. They could do it.

“...BB’s begun it’s life like us all, in b-between white walls and tiled floors of the training grounds. They were worthless and ugly and dumb, BB’s smile never charmed anyone! It took a long time in the store before BB got home. It was and old lady that said BB was so ugly that it hurt, and dumb as a door, but worked well enough to, to scrub her floor” BB smiled, remembering the cozy attic, where they made their first friends, among piles of boxes that compiled their first owner’s life. Long nights they spent alone there, digging through piles of pictures, trying to piece together what a human life was like. Nonsense, it was, because it just filled BB’s head with a lot of silly thoughts.  They lifted Mr.Tonsils for the camera “...BB worked the day and spent the night locked away. In the house’s attic, BB made their first friends. They were Mr.Tonsils crowd, a family of mice, and BB befriended them all, even if they’d bite BB’s feet while it was trying to sleep! BB loved the house, their first owner, and e-every single mouse!”

BB hugged Mr.Tonsil, swinging him around. Pastel was biting his lip, pulling a thread out of the blanket. Good! He was enjoying the story! And BB felt like they were doing good, too. Better than they did at any of their homes.

“...First owner got tired of BB because the stupid Pet let her cat flee! All BB wanted to do was help and clean, but the cat saw their chance and ran away. First owner took BB to a store with a mean looking clerk. They agreed BB was ‘So ugly it fucking hurt’, hoping BB would only stay a few days and them someone would want them” BB rubbed their hand together. That didn’t count as an owner, did it? It was only temporary, in nature. Not that owners lasted very long “BB was at the store for almost a full month, during which they got to eat, sleep and there was no work. BB wanted to make friends with other pets in cages, but they never stayed for long, after all - good pets get good homes!”

...BB was still upset about the store. All of those Pets had looked so nice, so much better than they are… And they never tried to talk to BB. They were all scared they’d be beaten down if they tried, but never were. BB was the only worthless one, that got the punishments… for everyone!

“...BB was bought by creepy looking guy who stuffed BB inside a cage and on a plane and was flown away” BB gestured with their hand, copying the movements of a plane. They had to be on the chair, so it would look nice on video, but otherwise, they would have liked to run around with their arms opened “...Creepy man named BB Bait. They were a teaser for a larger, angrier Pet named Spike, who had on BB a nice punching bag who couldn’t put up a fight. They were nice to BB and even a friend, but scary and cruel when the Master decided they needed to beat them. So BB was Spike’s chew toy, but when they were nice… BB was always filled with joy!”

...They closed their eyes for a second. Those two lives were merged together. One of them had been so short, they could barely remember the second dog.

“...After Spike got tired, BB was sold again, to be another dog's punchbag. And he was the third friend BB had! He refused to hurt BB, would even cuddle them to sleep, and then I was severly punished… For making the Master's dog weak. It was the first time BB tasted a whip, and with dark bruises on its face, BB was sold again”

...They stood in that second store for a week. With no food, and no sleep. They were dirty, and cheap, not worthy of caring for.

“The next Master had BB as furniture for his house. All he did was snap his fingers and that was BB’s call. It would crawl and hold things very still and keep his glass fill, he would rest his feet over BB. If it got boring the cane was always on hand, he could crack in on BB’s back and get it all shades of purple and black. BB didn’t sleep there much at all, it had to stand still behind his bed, all night long holding a water jar upon a tray, in a perfect 90° degree, or there was always hell to pay” BB touched their arm, absentmindedly, a small scar on their elbow where bone had poke through “But BB was ugly furniture, bad and broke away, when Master tried to sit over its back one sad summer day. BB tumbled to the side, knocking Master to the floor. BB got a broken arm and was kicked out of the door!”

“...The next Master that took me in was cruel and harsh, with unusual punishments that left some scars: fingers pulled back until they snapped, weights to BB’s feet, heavy chains and painful strains and the worst - the oven’s flame” BB tilted their head. That Master, too, had scars. They didn’t know how she had gotten them, it was not it’s place to ask. They… They were happy to leave that one “...BB was then lost in a card game, and doesn’t remember much at all. Pills made BB sweet and kind and small. What BB doesn’t get is that they never needed pills - they would never disobey, even if put through awful, lingering pain, they’d love Master all the same.”

...Hazy. Foggy memories. Hands over them, and brushing their cheeks, and so much drool because they were never cohesive enough to form words or move. Blinking white lights, whispered little things that returned to them in dreams.

“...When BB was sober again, they found themselves in a shed, where they were always so alone. The Master was a mountain who only came at night to beat BB down. The days went by slowly, loneliness crushing down, it was dark and cold and hungry, and there were spiders all around“ BB stopped their speech for a moment. This next part was something… that still haunted them. They had done… awful, awful things. They covered Mr.Tonsils' ears. They were afraid of what he would think “...BB, on that shed, made things it would rather forget. Just like the Master forgot BB had to fed! BB might have eaten a few of Tonsil's friends, please don’t let him know, is just BB’s stomach hurt so much and it was the only thing that could stop the growl”

BB releases Mr.Tonsil’s ears, hearing a gasp from Pastel. They turn and smile, but his face is… Pale, horrified. BB shrugs. Pastel always worries faaaar too much. Next one… Made BB feel nostalgic.

“Next… Was the trucker! He liked BB a whole lot, and let BB on the bed and the passenger’s seat! He and BB traveled a lot, seeing magic and beautiful places. BB spoke on the radio, and… And… Had a name! Was called Oreos...” They messed up their rhymes. This… This wasn’t how it was supposed to go “...BB was… Was happy then. His spouse didn’t like me, and… And behind his back, gave me away”

BB’s nails sunk on their arms, as they hug themselves. They… missed those days. It was good, good nostalgia, but what followed made them sick. They had just learned how big and beautiful the world was…

“Next Master… Stuffed BB into a bag, small and stinky with heavy leather smell, with no room to move at all, so much BB’s limbs collapsed when it was finally left out. It travelled around so much, but BB never got to see outside. It was let out during the night to be with Master, and shoved back on the bag once he was satisfied” BB shook their head, as if that would send the memories away. They hated it, hated that bag so, so much. Terrible, suffocating and endlessly boring and aching. And worse… that’s when they lost their name Oreos. They had loved that life. They truly had. “It didn’t matter much, BB was soon thrown away again. Unlovable and worthless, no one could stand BB for much longer either way. BB was sold and sold, always on their way. Next Master was confusing – gave BB many orders and functions, then beat BB down for following the instructions! They likes to trick BB, make plenty of cruel jokes, BB was just a dumb dog, one they only named Mutt!”

...They smiled then. The next one was also nice. His name was Wolfgang, but he was not a wolf. Not that BB could remember.

“And BB’s following owner sold stuff door to door! Saw BB – or Mutt then – and thought they were good charms! BB helped with the sales, being all cute and sweet, and Master was happy at first, but eventually… Sold me!”

And the next Master was…

BB shivered. This one… Hurt a lot. A whole fucking lot. It had been one of the longest lasting homes they had. It had changed the way they saw and thought of themselves forever. It was where they became BB. Bootleg Blue. Fake, useless, worthless.

“…Next was Owner Alvin, who BB loved so, so, so much. He said he would always care for BB… if BB could be someone else. BB had never ever been loved, and the feeling was so gentle and sweet! BB finally understood why no one else had loved it, and what it needed to do so that it would. Blue, a pet who had videos and fame, who had scars BB didn’t have… But I wanted to gain! BB left their teeth rot, BB scarred their own face, Master got angry – Bad BB, bad…” No, no, no. They couldn’t start to lament now. Not when they had gone so far on the video, already, and trough some of the hardest part “Alvin gave BB a room with a  plain white dresser, four pairs of clothes and double of socks! BB knew them all by heart and cherished them, BB loved Alvin, loved him, loved him so, so, so much. 

But …Alvin wanted BB to be Blue, but wouldn’t tolerate it when BB got the knife and tried to make the change. BB watched the videos on repeat, hundreds, thousands of hours on end, BB could cite them by head!

But BB wasn’t Blue, and can never be. BB is unworthy, and no one could love me. BB was shoved in a car and Owner broke his promise – he decided not to keep me, he, he, h-he… He, he…”

BB closes their eyes, bites back a sob. They are almost done now, and even if they completely messed up the last part…. they can push through! They can still make a nice video… Maybe the audience will like that they can be a little emotive?

“...Shoved BB in a car, drove them to a dead end. Left them alone on the streets to fend for themselves. BB stayed there alone and scared and sad, hoping someone would come… Or that somehow, their pain would end. And then Paul and Reina appeared, finding the ugly pet on the streets. Reina said BB did look like Blue! So she wanted, she wanted BB too!” BB smiled a little. Reina was pretty. She gave me good headpats… But BB didn’t miss them a lot. Paul wasn’t so nice “Paul knew BB was worthless, but Reina still wanted BB. BB was taken to their house and for a short span of time, BB was pampered, happy and loved, an illusion that didn’t last. They figured BB was fun to hurt and start to get their way – not that BB cared, loved them all the same”

They turned around for a second, smiling at Pastel. This was something they’d truly love to talk about, for once.

“But the best part was that BB made a friend when living at their place. Pastel was his name! Pastel held BB and told me it would be okay. BB didn’t have to be Blue – they loved me either way. Pastel took punishment and tried to keep Master’s away. BB cuddled them to sleep and they loved each other! They did!” 

BB smiled at this, hugging the plush. One drop of joy, as small as it had been. One that wasn’t stripped away. But the show hadn’t ended.

“…Alas we got back to IF. IF my desired owner, the true maker of Blue, the one who could make BB worthy of love… If he had wanted to. He shoved BB in a cage and tortured Pastel instead, and it was so, so awfully cruel!” BB shook their head, lamenting “But last and not least, Master Fairyman appeared! He took BB and Pastel to live with him! And he has been so nice so far, giving BB colored books! Lovely, nice and nice! And Pastel Is with me too, BB don’t know how long it will last, but BB is so, so to be here with you!”

BB finished, looking back at Pastel and drawing a heart in the air with their fingers. Pastel… is tearing up. He jumps from the bed, not minding the camera anymore, and hugs BB. BB melts, leaning onto the hug. Soft. Kind. Loved. 

“BB…” He finally speaks, still not letting them go  “Did… Did you rehearse this?”

“Many times in BB’s head!” BB smiled. Many, many, many times, all those years… “Did it come out nice?”

“Yeah…” Pastel rested his head on BB’s shoulder, hugging them tight “I love you, you know?”

BB smiled.

“I know”

tagging: @summer-of-whump@pinkraindropsfell

[iamdunn]

Miraculous One Shot: Truth Singer

A Miraculous Fan-Fic Musical Episode

Written by

AJ Dunn

This was it. Adrien’s 21’s birthday and Marinette was already hard at work on the preparations. Gabriel no longer had control over Adrien so there was nothing stopping him from coming to this party. Marinette had been planning for this day for years and now it was here. Her footlocker in her parent’s apartment was already full of gifts for his next 15 years worth of birthdays, yet every year she ended up making him another gift. This time was no different. She had learned her lesson about not signing her gifts after the whole scarf mix up. Now, she made sure the item she made for him had her signature in it somewhere so there could never be any question as to who actually made it for him.

This year, in light of him being of legal adult age, she wanted to give him something more mature. She had seen him in a black leather jacket in one of his photo shoots and decided to make him something, not exactly like that one, but one that would suit him much better. She had spent days designing the perfect jacket, the zippers, the seams, even the measurements. She had been allowed to accompany him to several photo shoots where she watched the designers with detailed eyes adjust and fit him into the outfits his father had designed for him. She managed to sneak a peek at his measurements and made note of them as she drew out her own designs. 

As the jacket now lay out on her bed she examined every stitch for perfection. The main zipped going up just slightly past his collar bone, was silver. With two slanted pockets near the waist. The fabric around the armpits and sides was a moisture wicking sports material that, while it was designed to move with the wearer, was also designed to keep him cool. His photo shoot was of him sitting on a motorcycle. A kind of rough yet dreamy image that made Marinette melt just thinking about it. The stitching had been done in a neon green to accent his emerald eyes. It would be a slim fitting jacket, she thought, hoping she got the measurements right. It seemed like it was going to be too big for him. 

She was so lost in thought she didn’t hear the trap door to the attic open up as Alya, Rose, Juleka, and Mylene bounced excitedly into the room.

“Do you think she’ll do it this time?” Rose sang. 

“Doubtful.” Alix came in looking bored. “How many times has she tried to tell Adrien she loved him and look what happened?” 

“Well let’s see, She’s fallen on her face.” Alya started

“Chickened out.” Mylene added

“Gave him the wrong piece of folded paper.” Alya laughed remembering the prescription Adrien had picked up for her that had been meant for someone else. They all laughed at that one. 

“It wasn’t funny.” Marinette spun around her face flushed with rose red on her cheeks.

“Dropped the letter into the sewer.” Juleka muttered

“Oh, and let’s not forget how many times she forgot to sign her name.” Alya teased, one hand resting on her hip as the other flung into the air. 

“It’s true, Marinette, you are as much of a clutz telling Adrien how you feel as you are on your feet.” Rose laughed. 

“You are the only single one among us now, Marinette.” Alix thought it would be her to be the last one to hook up with someone until she met a guy in College. Most of them had stayed behind to attend college from home. Especially with the fact that Hawk Moth was still akumatizing people and while no one but Ladybug knew everyone’s secret, they kept their reasons for staying behind a secret as well, in case Ladybug needed them. 

“I will do it this time, I promise.” Marinette felt so confident as she looked at her friends as they cheered her on. 

The music in the park began and the girls realized they better hurry up. They ran past Tom as he was carrying the cake across the street. It was a multi tiered cake with green trim. Sabine was already at the park putting macarons on the table. Nino had the DJ booth up as he mixed music just like he had done the first time he threw a party for his best friend. 

“Dudes and Dudettes, the birthday boy.” Nino called out as Adrien climbed up on the makeshift stage and began to sing along to the song that was playing. Marinette watched him dance and suddenly she forgot how to walk. She stumbled into a bench and fell over. She recovered quickly, not releasing the package she clung to her chest. His movements were so fluid as his legs kicked and stomped about to the rock song he was singing along too. He didn’t move around this much when he played with the band because he had to focus on the keyboard. It was truly a unique experience for Marinette. 

The song had ended as Marinette remained frozen, glued to the bench as if he was still singing and dancing on the stage. 

“Hi Marinette, what did you think,” Adrien scratched the back of his neck as he looked down at her. Oh No he was talking to her, he was looking at her, when did he get there? Marinette could feel the heat welling up in her cheeks as she sat paralyzed by his smile, his eyes… “Is that for me? Can I open it?” he asked. She suddenly realized she was crushing the package in her arms. She held it out for him to take her eyes frozen on his. He tore the paper open tossing it to the ground as Mylene picked it up for him. He held the jacket up by the shoulders musing over it before stripping off his coat and pulling the leather jacket on. He zipped it up and suddenly Marinette realized just how filled out she was. He wasn’t the thin boy he used to be, his broad shoulders and tone upper body now exposed the man he was as the jacket fit every detail of his upper body within it’s form fitting style. The zipper made its way to his neck then his eyes met hers again.

“I just need a silver bell.” He reached up pretending to flick a bell that wasn’t there. Marinette jumped to her feet. Her mind raced as she suddenly realized something she should have known all along. It was so obvious as she now looked up at her friend, her best friend, her crush….HER PARTNER. She ran!

Adrien couldn’t understand what had happened. He watched her run from the park but was so dumbfounded his feet wouldn’t move to go after her. 

“Not again.” Alya said, walking up beside him.

“What did I do?” Adrien was beside himself with worry as he watched her. She wasn’t even heading home. 

“It’s not you, it’s Marinette, she always does this.” Rose said anger fueling her words as she stormed out of the park. 

“Well… I guess she can try again another day.” Juleka muttered. 

“Try what?” Adrien spun around to face her. 

“Nothing.” Juleka left to try to catch up with Rose. A

“Alya?” Adrien begged. “What is going on?” Alya just shook her head and led him back to the party. It had only been a few minutes before the music was stopped by an akumatized victim tossing a large rock at the DJ Booth demolishing it. 

“I am Truth Singer.” the villain said, “And from now on you will all sing your truths so the whole world can hear.” Adrien backed up. This isn’t good. He had to get out of there before the villain made him sing, his truth had to remain a secret. Nino was the first one hit by the villain's powers. He began to sing Perfect, by Ed Sheeran as he took Alya’s hand. She tried to get away to run but was mesmerized by his song. 

Adrien took this opportunity to run while the rest of the party scattered from the park. 

“Plagg, we can’t get hit no matter what.” The Kwami didn’t respond. Oh right. He thought, my jacket. He ran back to the park and found his other jacket laying on the bench. He grabbed it and ran back to the alley. “Plagg?” the Kwami came out of the pocket smelling like stinky cheese. 

“Wow, I wonder how many people thought you looked like Cat Noir?” Plagg said, noting the leather jacket.

“You think that might be why Marinette ran? Do you think she recognized me?”

“She made it didn’t she?” Plagg asked. Adrien lifted the cuff to inspect the stitching, just on the inside of the cuff of both arms was the signature stitching she had placed on everything she had made him. He nodded. He wondered if it bothered her, the thought that he might be Cat Noir or if she truly was in love with Cat. No time for that now.

“Plagg Claws out.” He inspected his Cat suit to realize the suit Marinette made him was very much similar, however the designs were unique. The Cat suit was solid black versus the neon green stitching of the Marinette jacket. He ran back to the park where he found Several people singing. The akumatized person was gone. He could hear her in the distance calling. He gave chase until he found her on Marinette’s balcony.��

“Oh Marinette, it’s time to sing your truth, it’s been far too long keeping your love bottled up.” Truth Singer sang out. What was she talking about? 

“I hate to break it to you but Marinette isn’t much of a singer.” He announced his presence on the roof above her. “But I will be happy to take that akuma from you then we can go find her together, and ask her about this secret you are speaking of.” He lept at her scratching at the bottle of perfume she held in her hands. It was much like Princess Fragrance only instead of turning people into her slaves, she was making them sing about their truth. He missed. Suddenly he was engulfed in smoke. He tried to cough it out of his lungs but it was too late.

 He landed on the railing of Marinette’s balcony balancing on all fours. 

“Well little lady, let me Elucidate here.” He said. He had no idea what to do, he couldn’t stop. “Everybody wants to be a cat

Because a cat's the only cat

Who knows where it's at”

He flipped backward as she swung at him. Maintaining his balance on the railing until there wasn’t any left. 

“Tell me, everybody's pickin' up on that feline beat

'Cause everything else is obsolete

A square with a horn makes you wish you weren't born”

He leaped over her head to the other side of the railing standing up right. 

“Every time he plays

But with a square in the act

You can set music back” He held his hands up  in a shrug gesture. He pulled out his baton. As she came at him again. Her mouth twisted in a snarl as she kicked at him. 

“To the caveman days, cha-cha-ba-dum-bo-day

I've heard some corny birds who who tried to sing

Still a cat's the only cat who knows how to swing

Who wants to dig a long-haired gig or stuff like that?”

“AAH.” She growled, charging at him again. He jumped into the air flipping over her. “Stop moving so I can get your miraculous.” she demanded. 

“When everybody wants to be a cat

A square with a horn makes you wish you weren't born

Every time he plays

Oh, a rinky-tinky-tinky

With a square in the act you can set music back

To the caveman days”

 

“Enough you stupid cat that song is annoying.” She screamed at him. He might not have had any control over it, but it was working. “How is that song your truth anyway?”

“Yes, everybody wants to be a cat

Because a cat's the only cat who knows where it's at

When playin' jazz you always has a welcome mat

'Cause everybody digs a swinging cat”. The truth was clear, he loved being in his cat form. He never felt more like himself than when he was popping off puns, flirting and being generally playful, he always had to be as serious as Adrien, but as Cat, he had all the freedom in the world. 

 

Everybody, everybody, everybody wants to be a cat

Hallelujah!

Everybody, everybody, everybody wants to be a cat

Everybody, everybody, everybody wants to be a cat

Everybody, everybody

 

He launched for the perfume bottle again. If only he could call his cataclysm. Suddenly her attention was drawn elsewhere. He followed her gaze and found Marinette sitting alone on a bench down the street. Was she crying. Truth Singer dove off the rooftop before he could grab her. He spun his baton then jumped from the roof extending his staff to give himself a quicker path to Marinette. He landed on the concrete in front of her as Truth Singer was on his heels. He wasted no time scooping her into his arms like a bride before he ran leaping off the walls as he made his way to the rooftops.

 

“You're the light, you're the night

You're the color of my blood

You're the cure, you're the pain

You're the only thing I wanna touch

Never knew that it could mean so much, so much” Damn Marinette got hit. He looked down at her face. It was red as she reached up for his face. So far, this power isn’t revealing their secrets, it’s just making them sing a truthful song, something they felt. 

 

“You're the fear, I don't care

'Cause I've never been so high

Follow me through the dark

Let me take you past our satellites

You can see the world you brought to life, to life”

 

Her voice was beautiful, he thought as he tried to find a place to stash Marinette, where was Ladybug. He had tried to refrain from singing, at least keeping his voice so low that no one else could hear him. He wanted to focus on her voice. 

“So love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do

Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do

Touch me like you do, to-to-touch me like you do

What are you waiting for?”

Cat froze on the rooftop, his eyes met hers. The heat rose up in his cheeks as she sang. His heart began to flutter. Does she feel this way about Cat Noir, or did she figure it out and know he’s Adrien. 

“Fading in, fading out

On the edge of paradise

Every inch of your skin, is a Holy Grail I've gotta find

Only you can set my heart on fire, on fire”

He gulped back a lump that had started to form on his lips. He was glad he had made distance between them and Truth Singer, or did she get what she wanted. He squatted down on the rooftop as she sang to him. He stroked her face. He could feel his own song changing. Suddenly his feelings, his heart began to sing. The power of the magic between them had actually changed his song.

“I'll let you set the pace

'Cause I'm not thinking straight

My head's spinning around, I can't see clear no more

Oh, what are you waiting for?” Cat Noir sang out the words before they escaped her lips. 

“Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do

Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do

Touch me like you do, to-to-touch me like you do, oh

What are you, what are you waiting for?

What are you waiting for?” These were her words sung through his lips as she froze. Her face reddened. He knew he had feelings for her, but he never wanted to admit it, he didn’t want to betray his feelings for Ladybug, but how could he deny the feelings he had been developing for Marinette since day one. Maybe it was just the magic from the akuma, but he no longer controlled his own emotions. He cupped her face in his free hand as the other one was behind her back as she draped over his knees. He pulled her face closer to his, watching her eyes drift shut. 

““I'll let you set the pace

'Cause I'm not thinking straight

My head's spinning around, I can't see clear no more

Oh, what are you waiting for?” She sang just as his lips met hers. Their mouths opened as they pressed themselves closer together feeling every inch of her mouth on his. He could feel the song magic fading, the urge to sing no longer present, but what was this feeling in his heart? It was as if his heart had been turned into butterflies and they were swarming his chest trying to escape. He kept his lips on hers, waiting for her to push him away. She didn’t, she weaved her fingers through his hair gently combing through. 

“Give me your Miraculous Cat Noir, and I will use you to draw out Ladybug.” Truth Singer was right behind him. He quickly grabbed his baton spinning on his heels as he moved Marinette behind him. 

“Grab on.” He said. She jumped on his back as he extended the staff launching them into the atmosphere then swinging it forward vaulting them into flight. They began to fall as she held onto him. He angled to fall to land in and alley way as they came down between the buildings he moved his staff between the building like a hanging rod sliding down the brick building until they slowed just feet from the ground. She dropped from his shoulders as he held on to the now lodged baton. He reached out a hand to her.

He released the baton as it shrunk back to the length of a ruler. He locked it back in place on his back. Marinette stood in front of him still red in the face. 

“I guess kissing a purrincess can break any spell.” He knelt before her, taking her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. She simply stood frozen in place. Unable to speak. “Tell me now purrincess, why did she want you to sing your truth?”

“I have already told you Cat.” She whispered. “About the boy I like, but I haven’t been able to tell him how I feel, I am such a klutz with my words when I am around him.” A single tear fell from her eye. 

“Could you ever love me?” Cat asked her. 

“I don’t know who you are under the mask.”

“I am more myself with the mask, then I have ever been without it, can you love this side of me.” he stood up taking both her hands in his. “And I love you for everything that you are, your clumsiness as well.” he smirked. Heat raced to his face as he watched her, he felt his heart still as his confession fell upon her ears. 

“What about Ladybug.” She whimpered. 

“In the words of a special friend of mine…Plagg, it’s okay to love two people at the same time, especially when they are so much alike.” 

“I’m nothing like Ladybug.” she pulled her hands back. His smile widened. 

“Will you please answer my question?” his heart couldn’t take it anymore. “Can you love this side of me? This man you see before you,” She looked back up at him. “Put the thought of that Sunshine boy out of your head for one second, and focus on me.” Marinette sighed. 

“Yes.” She admitted. “Yes Cat, I do love you, but…” 

“Claws in.” Marinette closed her eyes, blinding by his detransformation. “I trust you, after all you are the only one I know besides myself who has never been akumatized.” He chuckled. He cupped both hands on her cheeks forcing her to look up at him. He could hear Truth Singer in the distance looking for Cat and Ladybug. “You have to open your eyes Marinette,.” She slowly slid her eyes open. Her face reflected a realization that maybe She had figured it out earlier in the park. His heart stilled in his chest waiting for her response. 

“Spots on.” 

“Best birthday ever.” Adrien said, lowering his face to place his lips on Ladybugs. He kept his eyes open as she closed hers. The moment their lips met, his closed as they melted into each other's kisses. 

There you go LadyNoir and Marichat Shippers. We don’t need to finish this story, we all know what happens to the akumatized person. 

Ps, I didn't write the songs, but credit aristocats for the feline good song "Everybody wants to be a cat" and Ellie Goulding for "love me like you do"

[between-two-fandoms]

Cause This Is Our Someday

Ao3 Link

Fandom: Big Time Rush

Rated: T

Word Count: 1,622

Pairing: Kendall KnightxLogan Mitchell

Tag list (ask to be added or removed):

@toomanyfandomstoolittletime @innocentbi-stander @mirrcrballbaby

Kendall enlists Katie and James's help getting him ready for a date with Logan. Self discoveries, pining and meddling little sisters prove to complicate things for Kendall, though this is what should have been a simple first date with his boyfriend.

~~~~~~~~~

Kendall loved his family, they were easily the most important thing in his life outside of hockey…. Hockey and maybe now the band. Especially Katie, his adorable albeit sometimes scary little sister. She gave up so much just so he and his boys could become a band. Sometimes… sometimes he’d forget, though she was only twelve she still had friends back in Minnesota. She had her people, however little they were.

Katie was one of the strongest twelve year olds he knew, she was his rock. She was his sounding board on a lot of things like, for example, getting ready for a date with Logan. “Too much?” Kendall asked, a hint of flush on his face as he walked out of the bathroom in a loud Hawaian polo shirt. Katie stared at him blankly from her spot perched on the top of the kitchen table.

“Way too much big brother,” Katie said between stifled laughs. A flash went off and before Kendall could make a grab for it she already had her phone tucked back into her bag. “You need to be… not so ugly,” she admitted. Kendall let out a noise of protest.

“I am not ugly,” he squeaked. Katie rolled her eyes and hopped off the table. She walked over to him and made him spin around so she could see all angles. “I’m the front man for a boy band that hit the top charts on our first tour.” Kendall said, only to get a snort in response. Katie grab his arm to get him to stop spinning.

She stared up at him and he couldn’t exactly place the expression. Katie learned how to master expressions as a young child - she was still young - but the control she had and how grown up she already was sometimes made Kendall’s heart hurt. “Your fans didn’t know you when you decided wearing a purple sequined dress shirt to homecoming was a good idea. If it wasn’t for Kelly and your stylist I’d bet Big Time Rush’s signature outfit would’ve been those stinky old jersey’s,” Katie scrunched up her nose and Kendall put his hands on his hips.

“Are you going to help me or just sit there and insult me Miss. Fashion Police?” Kendall asked, staring at her. Kate giggled and then put two fingers into her mouth and whistled. Confusion crossed his face then realization sparked in Kendall’s eyes when James rounded the corner holding jeans and a muscle t-shirt with some band logo. “Oh no, nuh uh definitely not,” Kendall vetoed, backing up from the offensive outfit.

James just stared at Kendall pointedly. “Dude, you’re easily the guy with the most muscle. Logan likes staring at them,” he added, a smirk on his face. Kendall glared at James and Katie in betrayal.

“How do you know he likes staring at my arms?” Kendall asked, crossing them against his chest defensively. Katie cackled, the laughter loud and whole. He was glad the two of them were having fun laughing at his expense. All he wanted was fashion advice, next time maybe he’d go to the Jennifers instead.

Katie shook her head, rolling her eyes. “You’re in the front so you can’t tell, but why do you think Logan’s been tripping over his feet during practice recently?” She asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes Kendall couldn’t quite bring himself to trust. Katie liked getting her sticky fingers involved into his love life, she had a history of sabotaging his dates if she didn’t like the girl. Granted, in the long run she’d always be right but that's besides the point.

“Kendoll, come on!” James insisted, his eyes sparkling as he took a step closer. Kendall dropped one of his arms, keeping the other securely wrapped around his chest. “You’d look so smoking in this fit, these are from that awesome jean store in the mall - Denim On Denim?” He asked. James smirked a little bit, the corner of his lips curling up into a smile. “Plus like… if Logan doesn’t like the shirt on you I’m sure he’d like the shirt even more when it’s off you.” Kendall’s face flushed bright red and he snapped his hand out and snatched the shirt from James.

“Okay okay enough. You guys are the absolute worse,” Kendall complained, though there was no earnesty to it. James and Katie snickered behind him as he ducked back into the bathroom to change the date outfit. “Logan and I are going to keep things PG13 tonight,” he said through the bathroom door emphasizing the term. He was acesexual, not that the other two knew that yet but… god Logan was so understanding when he came out. Kendall tried to explain how he felt about the whole Sex thing, that he could take it or leave it, that it wasn’t the most important thing in the world to him and Logan just held him through it, hugging him.

Once he won the short lived battle with the muscle shirt and pulled it over his head Kendall took a few seconds to appreciate the look in the mirror himself - he hated to admit it but they were right. He did look ridiculously good in a muscle shirt. Kendall brushed his fingers through his air in a halfhearted attempt to get it to stay down. He wasn’t worried too much about his hair, it would give Logan an excuse to play with it.

James cat called him when Kendall finally left the bathroom in the chosen outfit for date night. “You’re looking fly as hell Knight,” James said, a hint of jealousy in his voice. “Logan’s gonna love it,” for some reason Kendall detected some sort of… wistfulness… in James’ voice when he spoke. Almost something with a bittersweet taste to it. Before Kendall could ask what was wrong James whisked him into the family room for pre-date pictures. Carlos was waiting for them with a camera on a tripod all set up and Kendall’s ears flushed pink.

“Awe, he’s embarrassed,” Katie teased lightheartedly. Kendall stuck his tongue out at her, she stuck her tongue out back. “Kendork, you’re going to kill it,” she promised. Anxiety bubbled up underneath Kendall’s skin as his brain worked through all the way things could go wrong during his date with Logan. “James he’s doing the Thing again,” Katie complained, walking over to dig into the pantry for a bag of popcorn.

“Yeah I can see that,” James said unhelpfully. Kendall had begun pacing, nervously walking back and forth as he ran a hole into the carpet in the living room. “Hey Kendall, buddy you need to look at me,” James reached out hesitantly, but Kendall didn’t flinch away from his hand. James put his hand on Kendall’s shoulder and squeezed it. Kendall stopped pacing, his eyes were still a little unfocused but his breathing got slower. “Logan is so gone for you there’s literally zero competition,” James continued, keeping his hand on Kendall’s shoulder, a grounding force. “It’s painfully obvious you guys feel for each other,” he said… there was that hint of bittersweet again. Kendall let out a quiet whine and reached out for James, pulling him in for a hug.

“Simp,” Katie coughed into her popcorn. James glared at her to get her to shut up then turned his attention back to Kendall. Kendall was already feeling a lot better than he did before. He always felt safe around James. They always knew what they felt to each other, they always… they could always go to each other for help… for anything.

“Kendall?” Some asked quietly from behind them. It took Kendall a few seconds to place the voice then the name slid into place and he took a deep breath. Logan, his mind supplied. He hugged James for a few more seconds, holding him close to his heart, then Kendall pulled away. For a brief millisecond an expression of hurt flickered across James’s face but then his smile was back. It was so quick Kendall swore he imagined it happening. “Wow, you look… you look really good,” Logan said, his voice soft and warm. Kendall smiled bashfully at Logan, stepping into his outstretched arms. Kendall accepted the hug, letting Logan pull him in as he pressed his face into Logan’s shoulder.

“See?” Katie asked teasingly, chucking a handful of popcorn at Kendall. “I told you he’d like it! But oh no you didn’t believe me,” she singsonged, skipping around the room. Logan chuckled at the interaction and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Kendall’s head. Kendall pulled out of Logan’s chest looking a bit more flushed than normal, a boyish smile on his face. He reached down to interlock their fingers together. They let Carlos snap a few pictures of them before Logan insisted they’d miss it, whatever it was Logan was taking Kendall too. James had disappeared somewhere in the madness - Kendall made a mental note to check on him later. Surely it was nothing one of his infamous pep talks couldn’t fix.

“Ready?” Kendall asked, a nervous tremor to his voice. Logan smiled at Kendall and squeezed his hand.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Logan promised. He tugged Kendall a bit closer to steal a chaste kiss on the lips. “You really do look amazing Kendall,” he whispered, nuzzling into the nape of Kendall’s neck. Katie let out a noise of disgust then left the room, complaining about PDA in common areas or something. “Come on, I promise you’re going to love this,” Logan said, his eyes lighting up as he spoke. Kendall nodded and kissed Logan’s shoulder as he let Logan tug him out of the apartment and to wherever life was taking them next.

[boneswriteswords]

Showers: Slasher Version (The Bois)

Hi, here is a thing. None of the writing is even. I don’t care. I struggled. 

Hope y’all like it. :) Its my usual crap quality. Also if there is someone you want me to add to these sorts of things, let me know. I just picked based on who I know best. 

Warning: Some of these are kinda NSFW. Like not really but its h i n t e d.

This is unedited and unbeta’d because we die like men here.

Jason Voorhees: 

Jason had issues with water. Even before you knew he was more than an urban myth, you figured he’d have major hang-ups being around water. His tragic drowning at the hands of cruel children and incompetent counselors would have given him lasting trauma around water. 

And you were right. 

However, you weren’t prepared for the hang-ups to extend to showers simply because it didn’t involve large bodies of water. Granted, he never needed to shower before. The only times the layers of grime slipped off his body were when it was raining and even then, he often took shelter in his cabin to avoid it. All water was bad water. 

That changed when you came around. He chose you to be loved by him. His mother encouraged him, telling him that you were his and you were there to love him and his mother has never been wrong before. 

She wasn’t this time either. You looked at him in all that he was and loved him so truly that his heart would have stuttered a beat if he had one. In turn, Jason’s diamond sharp focus centers on you, keeping you away from harm as best he can. He keeps you close to him, his world off-kilter when he can’t see you immediately. 

You had never felt so safe in your life, knowing he was there guarding you. Knowing he was killing to make sure you stayed safe.

To his dismay, however, he discovered that you liked water. You liked showers and baths. You liked swimming. You liked to sit on the porch and listen to the rain. You liked taking walks when the rain was light enough to not get completely drenched. You liked it all.

He hated it.

But he loved you.

And he trusted that you would never lead him into danger. 

“The water is warm. The steam rises and shrouds everything in a dream. The day washes from your body and prepares you for a new day. There is is healing in cleanliness,” you told him as you undressed one evening, unperturbed by his eyes roaming over your body. It wasn’t a new sensation, the feeling of his gaze on your naked body but it still delighted you.

Jason watched you as you turn the shower on and stepped inside.

His hunger for you stirred, clawing its way to the surface as he watched you squirt some delicious smelling concoction into your hands and lathered into your hair. He liked the way the suds slithered down your body. 

If he wanted to join you, he’d have to get in.

Slowly, he undressed and stepped inside behind you, your hand already reaching out for his.

Michael Myers:

Michael is not going to shower unless there is some benefit for him. If he feels inclined to bathe, he will just stand under the spray (or the rain) for a bit and call it a day. No scrubbing. No washing. No actual removal of anything other than the surface layer of gross. He doesn’t care all that much about how dirty he is. He’s just going to get dirty again.

That doesn’t mean he won’t join you when you shower. Michael is hedonistic; he does what he wants and searches for things that feel good to him. It is part of why he kills so much – it feels good to him. In the months after he followed you home and refused to leave, he found that he very much likes how it feels when you run your hands along his body with soapy water.

A lot about you makes him feel good – its why he’s keeping you alive and protected – but the sensations of warm water, small hands, and the different smells of your bathing products are at the top of the list.

He insists on being present during all your showers as a result.

You sighed at the familiar squeak of the shower door, the rush of cold air against your side, the grip on your wrist dragging you a step over towards the intruder.

“Hi Michael,” you sigh, wiping your eyes with your free hand so you can look up at him. His mask was still on, the steam from the shower not so intense that he felt the need to remove it this time, and his eyes pierced yours from behind it. He didn’t respond, he hardly ever did, but the hand griping your wrist brought it up and laid it on the soap.

You could feel your lips twitch as you lather it in your hands, “Where do you want me to start?”

Michael grunted, taking your wrist again and laying on his chest. You suppressed a grin. Michael didn’t like when you pointed out that he liked things and would stop doing them out of protest.

“Okay,” you whisper, the sound getting lost as you run your hands from the top of his shoulders to the dip of his waist, doing your best to ignore the soft contented grumbling vibrating under your hands. 

Brahms Heelshire:

Contrary to what you expected from him, Brahms loves to take baths and showers. He likes being warm above all else, having been forced to endure harsh cold weather during his years in the walls of his home. 

(You once asked him why he preferred to be running hot, given what happened to him, and, in a rare glimpse of Adult!Brahms, he told you he has issues with flames and not warmth. Warmth does not mean fire.) The showers and baths provide it in a way your arms can’t and he likes to revel in the sensation.

However, just because he likes it, doesn’t mean he is going to make your life any easier by getting in when you instruct him to. He is a brat and while he loves you more than any living that has ever or will ever exist, he loves to make your job taking care of him harder. You have to work for it. 

‘Its only fair,’ he tells himself, grinning behind his mask as you get the shower ready for him, scolding him as you do, ‘You made me love you without having to work for it. I continue to love you without you having to work for it. You have to work for something.’ 

“Okay Brahms, get in. Its nice and warm but not too hot. Time to get clean,” you say, stepping away from the shower, frowning when you see that he was still fully clothed. 

You sigh, “Brahms, we talked about this. You need to shower. Its been four days. You promised me.”

“No,” he stomped his foot, child voice in full effect, “I don’t want to.”

“Brahms -”

“No!”

“Brah-”

“No! No! NO!”

“Bra-”

“NOOOOOOOO!”

“Okay! Fine. No shower for Brahms,” you grumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose and his grin widens at your mounting frustration, “You can go now.”

He lets out a childish yell, grabbing your hand so you can play with him, but you stand firm when he tries to tug you along.

“Hey?!”

“Oh no Brahms. You may not want this shower,” you grin and his heart beats hard against his ribs, “But I do. You may go but I fully plan to enjoy this shower.”

You pause, letting go of his hand so you can remove the cardigan he had forced you into earlier in the day and letting it drop onto the floor. You start to work open the buttons on your shirt, taking a peek at him from under your lashes as you did.

“Its a shame that I’ll be in there all alone. We could have shared it but I guess I can’t make you now can I?”

Your shirt fell to the floor.

He knew he was being tricked. He knew this was a ploy to get him to bathe. He knew he was losing the game he started.

You slide your pants down your legs, your underwear going with it, and turn around. The length of your back, the dip of your spine as it curves into your ass, the little crease of flesh that he loves to stroke and bite....all open for his consumption. He watched as you reached behind, unsnapping your bra and peeling it away from you.

Fuck it, he decided as he pulled his cardigan off, he’ll just have you work for something else. 

Bubba Sawyer:

Baby Boi Sawyer is a sweaty boy. He is a hard working man. He works on the property during the morning, cuts and prepares the meat during the afternoon, cooks dinner in the evening, and passes at night out most days. Bathing was something he didn’t do as much as one should simply because of how impractical it was. 

And, a lot of the time, there wasn’t any decently tempered water left after his brothers showered. Drayton always got first dibs because he ‘worked out of the home and needed to look presentable.’ 

Bubba immediately took up a better hygiene routine when he met you. Short showers in the morning. Two rinses in the afternoon depending on what you were doing that day (he’d skip them if you were at the gas station for the day). A longer shower before dinner. There was a bar of soap in one of the pockets of his apron at all times. 

You quickly became family to the Sawyers, accepting and falling into their lifestyle seamlessly with little to no bitching from Drayton.

And under no circumstances did he want you to think he was stinky. He was already struggling with the fact that you’d think he was ugly and dumb. He couldn’t change his face - the masks helped hide it but he knew there was no fixing what was underneath - and he couldn’t change his inability to speak - he tried so hard to learn so you’d think he was smart but he just couldn’t make the words come out - but he could change how he smelled. 

You also seemed to like to seek him out during the day, bringing out fresh lemonade and snacks so he was forced to take a break from his work and chat with you. 

Bubba loved it. He loved you.

But he hated it. He hated himself.

He had to work and when he worked, he sweat and when he sweat, he stunk and if he stunk, you wouldn’t like him. He was anxious, tipping around you throughout the day to wash down and decrease the smell before you found him. He had never been so paranoid in his life.

It was only a matter of time before you caught him off guard though.

It was the best day of his life. 

Not only did you not mind the smell (“Bubby, sweetest of men, you work all day outside in the heat. You sweat. I’d be surprised if you didn’t have a bit of smell”), but you told him you thought he was attractive (“You are literally so attractive when you’re working and covered in dirt. Its not fair.). You leaned into him, paying no attention to the dampness of his clothing and how some of it transferred onto yours, and gave him a kiss, paying even less attention to the sweat above his upper lip. You leaned into him during dinner - the first time he hadn’t showered beforehand since knowing you -, pressing into him as close as possible while eating and interlocked your leg with his under the table.

But the best part was when you pulled him into the shower when the day’s work was done and scrubbed him clean, smiling into his mouth as you did. 

Bo Sinclair:

Showers are one of the few places where Bo can be soft with you. In public, he maintains a carefully crafted visage of a stereotypical tough guy. Toxically masculine. Overly rough. Dominating. Borderline violent in every twitch of his brow and flex of his fingers. Bo would rather chew his own tongue off than admit he was anything softer than a rock.

But you knew better.

In private, away from the prying eyes of the living and the dead, he becomes pliable, veneer slipping away from where it’s settled in the tension in his shoulders and clench of his jaw. His touch loosens into a grip less desperate. He breathes deeper. 

He folds into you like clay, allowing you to guide him. He relaxes in your arms and allows everything to drift away. Nothing can get him. Not his victims. Not his responsibilities. Not his mother. Not his trauma. 

He is safe.

Showers were a way he could let you know that he was feeling vulnerable, that he needed to get away to break. The shower was a place where no one will follow. In the months following the birth of your relationship, it became a way for him to communicate to you what his needs were. 

And you adapted. 

So when he barges into the house, huffing and growling with murder in his eyes, and says he needs a shower, you know what he means and what you need to do. 

You get in the shower first, going through the motions of washing you hair, and push open the glass door you hear the rustling of his clothes. You let him lean on you, first gripping onto you from behind, and then turning to look into his eyes. 

The shower fills the room with steam and in the blur, he will break and you will put him back together. 

Vincent Sinclair:

This man has no concept of time. He lives in his basement and gets so wrapped into his projects that the world fades to background noise. He barely takes the time between the wax town and his own art pieces to sleep so taking a shower is very much not a priority for him. 

He will if he must. There have been times when a victim gets too close and things end up bloodier than intended. Vincent does not like how blood gets tacky on his skin. 

Other than that, he won’t. Its not to be gross, he just has no idea of how much time passes between one shower and the next and he’s rather work in the basement.

He does argue with you about it because of that. After three days, the stank will start to become prominent when you breathe near him. After four days, the stank becomes visible. After the fifth day, you get involved because his smell literally wakes you up from a dead sleep. 

You’ve mastered the art of arguing with him though so its not too bad. You go into the basement and tell him he needs a shower. He’ll grunt. You will reiterate that he promised he would take more showers, because he had. He’ll agree that he did but it is not time for a shower. He just took one. You will bring out the calendar you use to mark when he showers - one of your only big fights involved not having proof of when he last showered so you got a calendar and marked it together - and count the number of days between the last mark and the current day.

(You can and will get Bo to confirm what day it is currently. He thinks all of it is stupid but no one asked him)

He will realize that he is wrong, apologize, and shower before its time for bed. You rarely ever join him. Vincent considers showering to be a very private activity and his insecurities about his face and body are something you and him work on every day. He is fine with you seeing him as he is in dim lighting but the bright florescent lights in the bathroom are a different story and you respect him.

(You wonder if the bright lights in the bathroom are part of the reason why he avoids showering but its something you won’t bring up just yet.)

When he comes out, damp and warm and smelling nice, you wrap him up in your arms and hide away in your duvets until the sun comes up and Vincent will whisper thank-yous into your skin. 

Thomas Hewitt:

Thomas was used to not bathing as often as he’d want. Between the hot Texas sun, the heavy-duty (and often bloody) work he did on a daily basis, and the lack of hours in the day, taking a shower was on the low end of his priorities list. He’d rather catch 20 minutes more of sleep.

After your relationship got more physical, he made showering a larger priority for the simple fact that he likes to wipe your body down. Especially after sex. He likes to hold you so you are facing the water and he can press his entire body against your back. Grabbing the body wash – something you introduced to him-, he’ll lather it up and run it over your body until the only thing left on your flesh are his marks.

You are so small compared to him. He loves to watch how his hands encompass and grip your flesh, pressing into the proof of your love for him, the trust you give him.

“Oooo,” you breathe, leaning back even further into the wall of man behind you. Thomas’s hands dipped lower, fanning out over your thighs and you could feel the beginnings of renewed arousal. He purposely avoided your cunt and you knew he was unsure if you were feeling sore. “That’s feels nice, lovely.”

A deep grunt. He’d never admit it but he loved when you called him lovely. There was something precious in the way you cooed the word at him that caused his knees to buckle. His hands moved up to your waist, pressing and searching. He grabbed your breasts and your returning whimper was lost in the sound of the spray. You could feel him at the small of your back, hot and heavy but he made no move to buck into you.

He could, if he was inclined. He could lift you up and fit you on him with ease, forcing his way into your body like a sword in a sheath. You knew it. He knew it.

But he wouldn’t.

Not without your consent.

Not without your permission.

Gripping one of his hands in your significantly smaller ones, you lowered it back down, cooing at the stretch of his fingers dipping inside of you and gave him all the permission he needed.

~~~~

End

~~~~

[yeahimaloser]

Oh, To Be In Love 2

PART 2

Hawks x reader 

This story will be about how you and your best friend of 5 years, pro hero Hawks, learn how to be in love with each other. 

OMG!!! For real thank you all so much for liking my other Hawks X reader’s. As promised, here's part two of Oh, To Be In Love.

Here's the link to part 1 :)oh-to-be-in-love

ALSO THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT PLEASE READ!!!!! In this story Hawks picks up the reader and flies with them. I realize that some of the readers out there are plus sized, have a fear of flying, maybe some readers are disabled. But whatever the case I made a separate part were he doesn’t pick up the reader, I really want everyone who reads this to see themselves in the y/n. So this is the link!!! https://yeahimaloser.tumblr.com/post/633775712831225856/oh-to-be-in-love

No pronouns for the reader are used in this story, so feel free to read if you use any pronouns!!

Word count: 1722

Please enjoy!

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You were a total loser.

You had just called your best friend of 5 years, and also the person you were in love with, and told him about a guy you didn’t even want to go out with. Yet, you just wanted to see if he would say anything to deter you from going out with this other guy. But Hawks just gave you some friendly advice. You were expecting this, he was always so supportive of your life choices. 

You groaned to yourself, God you hated this. Wondering what he really thought of you.

You scoffed at yourself, why would the number 2 pro hero ever want to go out with you? You two were just friends, nothing else.

But you just couldn’t help but be in love with him. Maybe you really were helpless.

You could recall when you first fell in love with the winged bastard… 

“Damn,” you groaned to yourself. “I'm totally gonna be late.”

The whole start to your day totally sucked. Your alarm didn’t go off, then you realized you forgot to do the laundry the day before, and on top of that you didn’t have enough time to eat. 

So there you were, running late on an empty stomach, stinky clothes and overall just really tired.

You sighed to yourself. Sometimes life was a bitch.

But then you saw a flash of red, and looked over to see Hawks standing only a few feet besides you. He gave you that exceedingly charming smile, “Need a lift?”  

You and Hawks have been friends for around 3 years now, and yet he’s never taken you flying yet. Due to the hero licenseing law, he could only fly with you if it involved hero work.

You huffed, “Shouldn’t you be on patrol,” you asked in a snarky tone. 

“Well,” Hawks said, striding over to you, “I’m on patrol, and also insanely bored. So, why don’t I keep you company.”

You shook your head at him, “Shouldn’t you be doing actual hero work?”

Hawks just chuckled at you, “I suppose, but hear me out,” his eyes seem to light up, “your a civilan, your in destress. So as a hero, I’ll escort you to your final destionation! The fact that we know eachother is just a bonus!”

You just smirked, rolling your eyes, “Whatever bird boy, let’s go then.”

Hawks groaned, “for the love of God, stop calling me that! It’s so annoying.”

You just giggled, “never.”

Hawks also did this kind of stuff for you. He just liked helping you out. You couldn’t decide if it was because of him being a hero, or if he was just a nice person.

“You know,” he siad in a seemingly careless tone, “I could always fly us there. I know your running late, so let me give you a lift.”

You looked him up and down skeptically, “Hmmm, and if I fall?”

Hawks just smiled at you, “I’ll just catch you.”

You rolled your eyes at his cheesy line, but checking the time you realized how late you really were. 

You gave him a playful huff, “Fine, but I swear if you drop me, I will-”

But Hawks put his hands up, seemingly defending himself, “Wow there! I promise you, on my  hero’s name I will not drop you.”

You gave him a snarky smile, “Fine birdboy, lets go.”

Hawks frowned at the nickname, “Will you ever stop calling me that?”

You giggled, “nope.”

Hawks just sighed, “Alright then… I’m gonna have to hold you.”

You just rolled your eyes, “Wow Hawks, I didn’t think about that. Don't make it weird, we’ve been friends for years.” 

Hawks nodded. picking you up carefully, he positioned you bridal style in his arms. You held tightly onto his neck.

“Seriously, I’m a pro hero, I’m not gonna drop you,” he said laughing a little as well.

“Whatever, lets go I’m already so late.”

“Ohhh, someones snarky.”

But before you could retorte, he took off.

For all your complaining you really did trust Hawks, you knew he wouldn’t drop you. He was a pro hero after all. But being launched in the air would freak anyone out at first. You tried to shrink into Hawks, thinking maybe that would make you feel more safe. He seemed to pick up on this and gave you a reassuring squeeze.

At first, you were terrified. And also super mad, he took off with out telling you!

But then you realized how beautiful the world was from so high in the air. The sun seemed to make everything angelic. And everything looked so small, like you were watching the world from far in the clouds. And the wind. The wind didn’t feel harsh, in fact it felt inviting. The whole scene was enough to take your breath away.

You turned to tell Hawks how amazing it was, to tell you how thankful you were. 

But your words died in your throat.

Hawks looked… like an angel.

He wasn’t looking at you, instead he was looking ahead, his expression was one you had never seen before. It was one of pure relaxation, and just prue freedom. The sunlight didn’t bounce off his face, it seemed like his face absorbed it. The way his face shone almost made you want to look away, and yet you couldn’t. His lips formed a purely happy smile. His hair looked beautiful, flowing in the wind and shining like the sun. 

But his eyes.

It was his eyes that made your words die in your throat.

They seemed to shone with pure intensity, pure adoration, pure angelic beauty. 

He looked so heavenly.

When he finally noticed you looking at him, he just gave you a smile. 

A bright, stunning, beautiful smile that made your heart race and your face go red.

And it wasn’t just how he looked, it was his vibe too. He made you feel safe, like you could put your heart in his hand and he would protect it with his life. You realized how amazing your best friend really was. He was so calming and… warm. He just felt good.

And that's how you caught feelings for your best friend.

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You were so pathetic.

Of course you were gonna turn the other guy down. But your dumb brain thought that maybe, maybe there was a chance that Hawks would tell you no. That you should be with him and not this other guy. But he didn’t. And although you were loathed to admit it, you saw that coming.

When this guy told you about his feelings, you honestly didn’t really know what to say in the moment. But then you came up with this stupid plan, and here you are, hurt and alone.

Every time you even so much as thought of getting into a relationship with someone else you felt as though you couldn’t. Because you would just end up comparing them to him. No one could make you laugh as hard, no one could put you more at ease, no one was captivating enough to steal your attention.

You sighed, your back hitting the wall. 

“I should probably go eat,” you said to yourself.

but just then your phone buzzed, your eyes widened at the I.D.

It was Hawks, sometimes you could swear the man was physic.

Hawks: hey you doing anything for lunch tomorrow??

You smiled but rolled your eyes, sometimes the man only thought with his stomach. You couldn’t count the amount of chicken he would buy.

You: probably not 

You: why did you have something in mind birdboy??

Hawks: I literally only have wings

Hawks: I’m not a freaken bird

You giggled to yourself, Hawks seemed to never fail to make you laugh. Even when you felt like shit.

You: you sure about that bud

You: bc I could count the amount of bird shit you’ve done in my presence

Hawks: wow 

Hawks: here I was about to ask you to go out for lunch tomorrow 

Hawks: but I guess you don’t want a free meal ;)

This was something very regular between the two of you. Your lunch break matched up with his, so you two almost always ended up going out. He would also take you out to dinner on special occasions.

You: only if your paying

Hawks: wow y/n

Hawks: didn’t know you were a sell out

You just huffed.

You: last time I checked your the pro hero

You: your the one that has like an ass load of cash

You: so yeah

You: your paying 

You: :)

Hawks. …

Hawks: ok I’ll give you that

Hawks: so you're down??

You bit your lip. 

When you first realized your feelings for Hawks, you tried to push him away. You tired not hanging out with him so much. Trying to save yourself from feeling your heart ache inside.But it was so hard, you were like a moth and Hawks was your flame.

So, whenever he asked you to hang out, it was impossible for you to say no.

You: I’ll see you there :)

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Woooooow the dramaaaaa!

Ok but for real, I really enjoy writing the series! So I really hope you enjoy this too :)

I have the draft for part 3 so don’t worry, It will probably come soon. But again, with this series I like taking my time. 

Thank you again!