#one of the only fics to have a label removed and it gets slapped back on

[navybrat817]

So, let me get this straight. After almost THREE MONTHS of appealing this fic that has NO smut, I finally get the label removed this morning.

Just to shamelessly reblog it and have a label put on it AGAIN today?

Make. It. Make. Sense.

[bokutoslittlebird]

UHMMM EXCUSE ME BUT BOKUTO X ONEE-SAN IS JUST 😳🥵. I'm a different anon from the last one but omg, is it okay to ask more??? Maybe an MSBY Bokuto now or idk what if his onee-san finally gets pregnant (if you're okay with that). Thank yoy so much!

I got like four fics where the reader ends up pregnant I’m definitely fine with writing pregnancy lmao I’ve looked it up so many times I have a notebook of pregnancy symptoms and baby delivery. I do need to start writing down baby names tho bc my computer keeps asking me when I’m expecting

Mission : Corrupting Onee-san ; Bokuto, part 3

Kōtarō was a bit upset a week after the.. incident. You weren’t showing any common signs of pregnancy.

He researched it at least six different times, expecting to match something in your behavior to one of them. Each time he realized you weren’t pregnant, it was hard on you. Well, he was hard on you. Forcing his cock into you while you thrashed and tried to get him off, only to be met with the brick wall that is your little brother. He hardly even noticed you, often off in his own delusions until after he spilled his load into you. Even then, your fucked out face and overstimulated hole always had him raring to go again, this time with his focus on how good you made him feel.

With it being a month into his stay at your house, you wondered if your family would get suspicious about it. When he told you he’d be trying out for the MSBY Black Jackals, it fell into place. That’s why he was staying at your house, with the added bonus of being there if you needed anything. From someone else’s perspective, it would seem like he was a golden child with a heart of gold. In your eyes, you just saw a monster with a goal and determination to see the goal through. Kōtarō never shied from any questions your son had, either. Answering every question quickly and maturely, as if he knew the kid would ask it. He’s able to manipulate you and your son but you can’t do anything to stop him, not when he holds power over you.

Kazuki loves his uncle, his Oji-san a lot. You know he does. He’s always enjoyed visiting your parents’ house to see Kōtarō who would tell him stories, but you find he often lets his adoration for Kōtarō blind him. In his eyes, Kōtarō is a perfect human being and can do no wrong.

“Oji-san?” Kazuki’s little head pops up from under the table. You jump at his sudden appearance, especially if he came from under the table. With Kōtarō having you firmly placed on his lap, you wonder how your son would see the situation.

“Yeah, squirt?” He still smiled at Kazuki, not seeing anything wrong with the situation. Not seeing anything wrong with the way he has a steel grip on your hips and keeps rubbing his hardening cock into your clothed pussy.

“When you both go to bed, why does mommy scream?” Your eyes widen at his question, panicking. How do you answer that? He’s so young—

“Oh! Mommy has some bad nightmares, but it’s okay! I’m there to take care of her!” Kōtarō wraps his arms around your middle, warm hands sliding along your stomach. “Isn’t that right, mommy?”

“Yes, Kōtarō, it—“ your words were interrupted with a shriek, feeling Kōtarō pinch the skin on your hips.

“Mommy, are you okay?!”

“Yes, dear. I’m fine. Uh, daddy just startled me, that’s all.” With the new situation and lack of anyone else, Kōtarō wanted to fully move into the ideal family life. Including his title. Kazuki didn’t bat an eyelash, just nodding and eagerly going to play with his toys. A present from Kōtarō.

“We talked about that, nee-san,” Kōtarō’s breath tickled your ear, a warm tongue licking the shell of it. A shiver went down your spine, feeling his bulge get harder underneath you. “Kazuki needs to see me as a father figure now. Especially since he’ll have a baby brother soon,”

“What makes you so sure it’ll be a boy?”

“I have faith. Need strong boys to protect mommy while daddy’s busy at work,” the talk of you having his offspring has him raring to go, a dark cloud covering his eyes as he ruts up against you. You find yourself face down on the dinner table while Kōtarō eagerly strips off your panties and your jeans. It’s nothing for him to pull his cock out of his sweats, eagerly rubbing the mushroom tip against your folds. Even if your mind and heart don’t want it, that doesn’t stop the slick from pooling into your panties and coating your folds. Your hole is nice and wet for him, ready for his fat cock to split you open.

“Kō, we- we can’t! Zuki-“

“If you keep quiet, he won’t know,” he hisses in your ear, his hand digging into the fat of your ass. It’s a warning to be quiet. Kōtarō usually enjoys your voice, how you scream and beg when he’s filled you to the brim, but now he needs you to be quiet since you’re on the table.

Pushing his cock into you is something he’ll never get tired of. He loves the warm feeling of your cunt and how tight your walls are around him, you’re all sticky and wet, allowing him to slide right in. He doesn’t stop, not for a moment, feeling you holding back your moans as he bottoms out. Even with your hesitance, your body knows he makes you feel good. It has him slapping his hips to your ass while he cages you to the table, pressing you down with his chest. Your nails scratch the table, trying to find something to hold on to when his hands snake up under them, squeezing while he rams into you. It’s enough to squeeze his hands while he brings you to an orgasm, his balls slapping against your clit while your walls squeeze around him, sucking him in.

“K-Kō-chan, I-“

“I’m almost there, hold on, baby,” he whispers, his mouth right next to your ear. You don’t know whether he’s talking to you or the possibility of a child resulting in this, but you find his hips stuttering, a low groan as he stills inside you. Your walls milk him dry, another orgasm as you coat him in your own release. He doesn’t pull out, keeping still inside you while you both come down your high.

“It’s Kazuki’s bedtime. I need to tuck him in,” You break the silence, squirming as the feeling of Kōtarō’s cock in you, and his cum, has become awkward.

“I’ll do it,” he presses a kiss to your hair, removing himself from you. He’s quick to pull your panties and jeans back up, keeping his cum from mostly coming out. “After all, I gotta be a good dad, don’t I?”

With Kōtarō constantly leaving the house for practice with the Black Jackals, he leaves you alone. Taking care of Kazuki was your only chore, really. With Kōtarō earning plenty of money and you having the insurance money from your recently deceased husband and daughter, you were not financially unstable. Most of your money had gone to special pills to prevent pregnancy, making sure you had one each time after Kōtarō spilled inside you. Labeled as vitamins, you easily took them all the time in front of Kōtarō as he didn’t bat an eye. They seemed to work, suspending the pregnancy as each day you turned out and took the test, only one line popping up.

You thought you were safe.

When your vitamins went missing, you didn’t know where to turn. After the table sex and the bedtime routine, you needed those pills. Looking through each cabinet, you couldn’t find it. When you asked Kazuki, he seemed innocent enough. The only possibility was that Kōtarō had found out and taken them out. You had to wait until he returned from practice before you could confront him.

When he finally popped through the door, Kazuki went to go hug him. “Oji-san!”

“Hey, hey, hey! We talked about that, squirt,” a darkness looms in his eyes, but his smile is bright and blinding.

“Sorry, daddy. I’m not used to it,” he looks downright guilty, as if he did something wrong. Kōtarō’s big hand plops on top of Kazuki’s head.

“It’s alright. You’ll get used to it eventually, especially once you have a little brother,”

“I’m gonna have a little brother?!” Bouncing on his feet, Kazuki turned to you. The smile you sported was more of a cringe, but you nodded.

“That’s the plan. Daddy, can we talk?” Kōtarō eagerly follows you, handing a new toy to Kazuki as if he doesn’t have over 20 new toys. Kōtarō doesn’t stop in front of you, rather hugging you close to him as you feel his hardened cock rubbing against your leg. “Kōtarō we need to talk. About serious stuff.”

“If it’s about those Plan B pills, I flushed them down the toilet,”

“Wha- flushed? Those were my vitamins!”

“You aren’t taking anything that risks serious health problems if you don’t take it. Not only that, you’re not under any prescription medications. From now on,” he says, voice low and commanding. Pulling from you, you look into his eyes to see something sinister in them, as if his delusion is becoming tangible. “You’ll be taking what I give to you. No more caffeine, no more wine before bed, yes I know you drink a glass while getting ready, and no more vitamins without my permission. After all, our future is dependent on this.”

With his declaration of claiming you, officially deciding to prevent anything that could stand in his way, you felt sick as you took another test, the single line being joined by a matching one. You couldn’t hide it, you couldn’t throw it away, he’d know the truth regardless. You always showed him negative results, so the test going missing would mean he knew it was positive. Kōtarō waits on your bed — his, too, now — as you weigh your options. With shaky hands, you open the bathroom door as he perks up, his face smiling as if he knew the answer already. With his hair down and still damp from the bath, you see how attractive he is, his muscles flexing as he gets up to see the result. Showing him the plastic piece, he can’t hide his excitement.

“I’m gonna be a dad! You’re gonna be a mommy! Well, we are, but this time for reals!” He’s so excited, it’s easy to find yourself smiling with him, caught up in the excitement. When he puts you down, it’s on the bed and he’s quickly crawling to cage you in. “I say this is cause for a celebration.”

“Kōtarō, what about mom? And dad? And our sisters? They’ll find out eventually, won’t they? We’ll be disowned,” your panicked voice stops him, straddling you as his hand goes to his chin. As if he’s thinking.

“Well, lets just cut ties with them. I’m a member of one of Japan’s Division 1 volleyball teams. I make enough money for us to be stable comfortably, not to mention the money you have from insurance. That way,” he licks his lips, leaning over you again, “I can have you all to myself,”

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

More Headcanon Stuff

Since everyone likes my post about Permits and shit: Here’s more BNHA World Building I use for fics!

Hero School: The Actual Hardest School to Get Into

UA is not, as mentioned previously, that hard to get into. It’s based on a statistic taken out of context, and also because almost the entire country applies but doesn’t get into the hero course.

The hardest school to get into is actually called Shīrudo Academy and is an intelligence-based heroics school. 

 The exam is twelve hours long and you must get a ninety percent to be allowed in. 

 The graduates of this school go on to enter the intelligence-based heroics field. They train for years, learning undercover tactics, code work, information gathering and interrogation techniques. 

 Shīrudo Academy is one of five hero-based programs that do not just include high school but also university. Meaning, you enter the Academy and then leave Shīrudo Institute before you are considered finished.

Second Chance High School-University

Okay not translated because I can’t find like a good translation for this.

Anyway, SC is a high school/university geared towards potential heroes who have black marks on their records, or have criminal records.

SC does NOT accept those who have: Sold drugs, committed Sexual Assault or committed First Degree Murder.

SC is meant to help those who have potential as heroes but have things holding them back. Like Shirudo they are a combination high school and university program. They operate on a ‘Ten Strike’ program in which you have ten attempts to change your ways before they expel you.

 They take extreme cases, or on occasion get transfers due to the Red Flag Protocol.

Red Flag Protocol

I fully believe while most hero schools are allowed to run how they want- UA a prime example- there are some general policies or rules.

One of them I call the ‘Entitled Brat’ rule or as it’s called officially ‘Red Flag Protocol’.

Red Flag Protocol is when a student…

-displays signs of extreme violent behaviour

-acts shocked upon being reprimanded

-refuses to listen to teachers or ignores reprimands, acting like it’s a jok when walking into detention

-being shocked to be actually punished and attempting to argue

-displays Quirkist behaviour to Quirkless individuals or those with ‘weaker Quirks’.

-attempts to establish a hierarchy with them at the top and enable them to bully others.

-displays illegal behaviour

-displays sexual harassment to others

The Red Flag Protocol is used in hero courses as there are multiple cases a year when problematic, disturbing or illegal behaviour is noticed in students who had entered the school. 

 This is due to the status that is given to middle schools that comes from having someone from their school become a hero. As well, there is a monetary fund given to middle schools when they have a student make it a year in a hero course program for high school. 

 With an emphasis on strong Quirks and brash personalities, it’s no schock that these have become a protocol to watch out for these behaviours.

 The student operates on a five-strike program when placed into the protocol. Five strikes, they’re either removed from the hero course or transferred to SC.

Anti-Cheating Board

The ACB is a board sent out when allegations of cheating are made on any test, or when a complaint is lodged that someone is accused of cheating without proof. It is not just for Hero Schools but also for any schools. 

 The ACB is made up mostly of people who are able to either detect lies or force people to tell the truth. All possess Job Specific Permits for their Quirks. 

 The ACB is always working because there are a lot of cheating allegations. In recent history, the Aldera school came under fire for accusing a student of cheating fifteen times and had the ACB called in. Now, they have a member of ACB come in to oversee all testing done to prove no cheating is occuring. The school was fined for their Quirkist views due to the student in question being Quirkless. 

Homeschooling Program 

According to my research, Japan doesn’t allow homeschooling, however, with Quirks I propose that there are some Quirks that could pose a risk to other students. Such as: Quirks that require equipment that if damaged could cause death, injury or other. Or sentient Quirks that are near impossible to control.

 Children with dangerous Quirks as well are allowed to be homeschooled. However once control to a reasonable level has been reached, the child is required to enter regular school.

 A small scandal came about when Endeavour, Number Two Hero, attempted to have his youngest classified as someone with a dangerous Quirk that required more training. It was proven to be false and Endeavour fined for false filing.

Dangerous Quirk Regulation Bureau

The DC is responsible for tracking those whose Quirks are regarded as a Class 9 on the Quirk Scale. Any Quirk that can cause death or injury or cannot be turned off that influences others is under their view and they monitor them. They provide funds if needed to help control their Quirk.

 Often these people enter into Heroics or Military service due to the fact they are regulated. 

Quirk Scale

The Quirk Scale is a scale meant to measure how dangerous a Quirk is. (A lot of this is kinda vague so I use examples)

Class 1: Minor Quirk that only affects the person using it. Does not affect anyone or anything else. Example: Colour Changing Eyes. 

-Exceptions are caused for those who while their Quirk does not affect anyone else, it can make them unnoticable. Example: Shapeshifting. Spinner resides here. Nezu resides here to only on a technicality that he loves to debate with the Bureau on. They gave up and just slap him with a ‘Class 1 but Class 9 danger’ label.

Class 2: A Quirk that affects other people or things outside the body. However is low-powered and does not negatively affect others without it being on purpose. Example: a low level teleckentic or someone can make a small flame but barely enough to roast a marshmallow.

-Note: Ojiro actually technically is in this category as his Quirk can affect others but requires it being on purpose. 

Class 3: Quirks that affect others or things with greater power. A telekentic able to lift larger weights or a fire user able to produce more fire.

-Hagakure is here because while her Quirk only affects her, it can also enable her to spy on others. Sato is here to, along with Sero, Jiro, Asui, and Shouji. Kirishima and Iida are in this category due to a technicality on the fact they can harm others by using their Quirk in negative ways. Otherwise they would be level 1. Similar with Twice.

Class 4: A quirk that only affects others and not themselves but isn’t considered very powerful.

-Note: Kouda actually is here as Anivoice affects animals. Technically he should be a level 6 but as it is animals he was ranked 4. (This changes when they get older though) Mr. Compress and Magne are here to.

Class 5: A quirk that can affect others or cause harm in a way that is more harmful than a class 4.

-Toga is here. Stain as well. Ochako is to. Bakugou resides here to.

Class 6: A Quirk that affects others in ways that are considered to be removing part of their autonomy.

-Aizawa is here. As is Shinsou.

Class 7: A Quirk that can cause damage to an extreme level to others or can affect someone in a way that is regarded as high level.

-Recovery Girl is here. As is All Might, Midoriya, Todoroki, and Endeavour.

Class 8: A Quirk that can cause extreme damage to others or themselves, or a sentient Quirk that does in fact have a downside.

-Kaminari and Dark Shadow are here. Dabi is to. Overhaul and Eri also are here.

Class 9: A Quirk that either can cause death or grievous bodily harm that either cannot be controlled at all, or requires specialized equipment.

-Present Mic and Thirteen are here along with Shigaraki.

Random Laws

Just a few random laws.

Hero School Law of Custody: A Law that states a hero school is awarded partial custody of any student accepted into the school. This law is in place to prevent a parent from pulling a student from the school recklessly or to prevent any contracts being signed without permission from the student. The Hero School may also pull any student from their parents if it is believed to be in their best interest.

Sidekick Law of Emancipation: If anyone under the age of majority earns a sidekick license they are automatically emancipated.

Law of Accidental Death by Quirk: A law that prevents anyone from being charge with murder if they have accidently caused death by their Quirk. For an example, I have an OC called Gas Attack who breathes out deadly gas. She would be protected under this law if her breathing support item that lets her breath the gas into a container that neutralizes it breaks. Or, if Bakugou as a toddler accidentally killed someone with an explosion. Shigaraki would have also been covered under this law when he killed his family.

[henqtic]

"𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘏𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘚𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘎𝘰𝘰𝘥 ”

Summary: Draco making you feel better about your hair insecurities throughout your years at Hogwarts.

Word Count: 3.7k+

A/N-hey well this is the first fic I’ve ever written and I don’t think it’s too good but please leave some feedback I would really appreciate it :) just looking forward to improving, this story includes a black/POC reader I just feel that there’s not a lot of stories that actually include us yk ? Because I don’t think I’m able to just put my hair up in a messy bun and go out lol.//ALSO there's no Voldemort and some of the years/dates will be off but I don’t think that matters much in this story:)

masterlist //  taglist form.

“It’s a toner” “for your hair”,she concluded in a way that was almost innocent but didn’t cover up the obvious amusement in her tone. Her box braids were flowing behind her, the two different colors blending together in a way to almost resemble Narcissa Malfoys. It was more of a Draco decision, he went on for months saying how if you got white hair you would look like an honorary Malfoy. Which he was already planning on making you sooner or later. 

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

“Darling your fascination with these muggle products is getting out of hand. Are you ill? Oh merlin, maybe it’s that muggle flu,”he said as he put a hand on your forehead.

In his defense he was actually worried about you.You owled him with a note that read

Dear Draco,

I think I’ve just found the best bloody gift ever,I was just walking around one of those muggle stores and found i! I don’t want to ruin the surprise but the I just thought of you when I saw it.

love, y/n.

He honestly expected a bag of green apples that you two shared a liking of but never in a million years did he expect you to show up with purple bottle labeled as “Purple Shampoo”.And what hurt most is that he was the first person you thought of when you looked at it.Of course he was the only platinum blonde you had seen with such bright hair, other than Luna Lovegood. But he was still deciding on if he should take offense or not.

“No Draco, I’m perfectly fine” You stated as you stated his hand away like a fly.“I just think that your hair may need a bit of toning to it.” You said as you looked at your boyfriend, he really did look beautiful in the sun.

The way the sun would bounce off of his skin and hair giving him this sort of glow.The way he ever so slightly had his eyes squinted because he could barely see when it was this bright outside.He was really a sight to see.He wore a faint smile that made your stomach erupt with butterflies every time you saw him, even now.

You told him that if he continued to bully Harry on how his glasses made him look like Dumbledore without a beard would come back to him.And of course it did.

You were sitting beside Draco under a tree at his family's manor.The sky had a few clouds but nonetheless it was sunny there were butterflies flying around and  variations of colors of flowers all around you.You had helped Narcissa plant some of the flowers and it was nice to see how it all came out.

 “I think my hair looks perfectly fine, why would I want to “tone it” He looked at you as if you had personally insulted his mother.

“Draco, darling, your hair is almost brighter than the sun” you said and you were so close to bursting out in laughter.

He looked at you faking an offended expression.

“Most likely stiffer than the grass we’re sitting on at this moment” 

“oh that’s enough” at that moment he shifted his weight over to you and started to tickle you non stop.

“Please I’m sorry I take back all of my words” you said in out of breath tone.Your laugh was probably the best sound to him.

He continued with his antics, “say my hair is the most beautiful this world” it wasn't even a second thought to him to follow up with a,“other than yours of course” he always had a way of making you feel appreciated for the multiple ways you did your hair through out your school years and even now.

Fourth Year

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

In the summer before your fourth year at hogwarts,you had decided that you wanted to try something new and get locs. It was something you always thought of but never really got the courage to do.

You always would just tell yourself “I think I’d miss my hair, even if doing it is a pain I’ll never stop loving it.”

That changed.Of course you’d missed your hair but getting locs, something you've been anticipating for a long time sounded a bit more exciting than doing your hair everyday.

It was finally the Gryffindor vs Slytherin quidditch game.Everyone had been looking forward to this.Every Slytherin, Gryffindor game always involved some sort of drama and it was the best.That day was nice up until it was completely and utterly ruined.

When the game was over Pansy Parkinson had shouted out to you and Angelina Johnson that your hair looked of worms.Angelina Johnson was probably the only Gryffindor you could put up with.Maybe it was because of the fact that she was an older black girl with her natural hair out and you desperately wanted tips on how to make yours look like hers.You and Angelina had quickly became friends in your first and her third year.She was more of a sister figure for you and when she went on about how nice Fred looked this year and the next you went on about how annoyingly hot Draco got third year She had teased you endlessly for it but you really couldn’t help it.

You didn’t know why it hurt so much coming from her but when that happened you were so close to crying.You were going to say something until Ginny Weasley said some very choice words to Pansy that left her as red as a tomato and she ran of the pitch.For someone with so much bark she absolutely no bight after that, you thanked Ginny and she responded with saying “There’s no reason to thank me Parkinson needed someone to finally give it to her” She then went up to Harry Potter and said he did good in the game.

“I don’t know if she knows her crush on him is obvious” You thought as you and Angelia walked back to the castle together planning on how to get Pansy back.

You heard the girl beside you try to stop a laugh from coming out so you just assumed you said that out loud.as always.

”Do you know what she has against you?”Angelina asked 

Even though Pansy was in your house she never much liked you for some reason.

“I think it’s from first year when I slapped her hand off of my hair.” You laughed “She was playing with the beads as if they were some kind of toy”

“She absolutely deserved it!” Angelia responded with a laugh.

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) 

Much to you and Angelina’s dismay someone had gotten to Pansy before you.She ran into the great hall shrieking and when you looked the first thing that came to mind was low quality Medusa.Her long thin black hair now replaced with black worms.Everyone in the great hall was laughing at her condition.Even many of the Slytherins you were surrounded by, it was almost sad how her own house didn’t like her. almost.

Why would she even come into the great hall looking like that? You thought out loud on accident.You really needed to work on that.It wasn’t much of a problem though, because many of your pupils next to you nodded mindlessly at your statement in agreement.

You had guessed Angelina had told Fred about the incident, he told McGonagall, or as he said Minnie (you didn’t know how he even got to that level),and she must have informed the other teachers.

She ran out of the great hall when she noticed no one not even a teacher was going to help her.Not even her own head of house, it was nice to know that Snape was on your side on this you felt pretty bad now when in class all you thought about was how greasy his hair was and how you should probably anonymously drop off some shampoo for him.

“Hey maybe I should tell the twins about that one.Nope y/n you are a nice person who does nice things you thought as you tried to remove the voice that told you that’s Snape would mostly likely like some Muggle Brand “Head and Shoulders Shampoo” Although you’d never be caught dead using it, it could never hurt to try it on someone else.y/n stop.Nice thoughts.”Oh but imagine him trying to put his hair up and the hair tie is too greasy to ho-” You decided to turn your attention to something more valuable at that point.

The real question was who had done it.You turned over to the Gryffindor table.Your back had been facing Angelina’s.You two always did this seeing as many students at school didn’t know that touching someone’s hair randomly without even asking was weird.Angelina had found a solution saying “We should sit with our backs facing each other,Then no one from the other table can random tug at our hair.” You agreed to the idea saying that it was brilliant.

You asked with a giddy expression asking her “did you do it without me?” 

She shook her head and said “no maybe it was Fred or George”.

You would’ve thought that the girl was drugged up on love potion seeing how  easily she forgot what she was about to ask and looked at Fred with heart eyes going on about a completely different topic.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and looked around the great hall and your eyes landed on him.He was already looking at you.Your hair.You made the decision of adding gold accessories to it today. Angelina had had a long talk with you saying how “Parkinson was only jealous because the last remotely good hairstyle she had was the bob in your third year” You decided that you still wanted to add something to your hair to make yourself feel better.Not for the acceptance of the others and how they think your hair “should look”.

When he finally looked into your eyes you raised your eyebrows in expectance.You were almost waiting for him to say some sort of mean comment about you.

The truth was Draco was absolutely enthralled by you.He liked how when in first year you came into school with your hair in braids and beads of light brown, dark brown, and white beads.He liked when in second year you started to wear your hair out more often.The way it would always smell of Shea or Coconut.

But who was he to go up to a random person who barely knew him and say “oh your hair smells really nice”

He noticed how other kids would sometimes touch your hair and you obviously didn’t like that.You noticed that Draco wasn’t going to make some sort of mean comment you realized it was him who did it.You mouthed a “thank you” with a grateful smile and Draco nodded and smiled warmly.

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) 

Weird thing is Draco probably gained his crush on you when he said saw that you two had both used an excessive amount of gel in your hair.

It was a dark time, second year, for you, and your hair, where slick backs were the only real things you knew how to do to style your hair.You wanted so badly to be like the other girls in your house who don’t even have to try with getting their hair up in the morning.Draco didn't mind though.

He liked when in third year you decided to wear your hair in an afro. He hated when he found you in a corner crying because some slytherin boys had said how your hair was “Worse than poor mudblood Grangers”.

Third Year

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

He liked when he made up a story to his father and got the boys detention in the forbidden forest with Hagrid.He liked when he charmed a butterfly hair clip that he had charmed to flutter it's wings and left it on the outside of your dorm door.He had hoped none of your roommates would get to it before you did.

As he walked down the stairs and said in almost incoherent tone “They better not bloody get to it before her. What idiot would possibly think a flat golden butterfly clip y/n’s favorite animal was theirs? Merlin and who in their right mind would think that a baby blue box with the name y/n on it in golden letters was theirs?”

“Honestly” he scoffed as he continued down the steps he was met with Blaise Zambini’s wide grin.They walked side by side in silence until Blaise spoke up.

“Mate you’re absolutely whipped, sneaking to her dorm before she wakes up to drop off a clip?” He turned over to Draco and was met with a scowl that looked like it could kill.It didn’t phase him though and he continued with a wide grin.

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Blaise had known his friend had some infatuation with the girl ever since their second year when y/n passed by them and Draco leaned over and asked in an anxious tone,”Hey Blaise do ya think it'd be weird to tell someone their hair smells good”.

They had been working on finishing their potions essay and when he looked up he was met with a sight of his friends head in his hand as he admired you from across the common room.

Blaise obviously didn't want him to ruin his chance before he even got one, he smirked and answered with,”Mate.Yes.Don’t do that.” He looked over at Draco in a side eye way.Of course Draco didn’t notice he was too busy staring at you as you talked with Daphne Greengrass about with boy you think is the cutest at Hogwarts.He was trying to get closer to hear your response, in the process almost tipping over his ink. Blaise grabbed the ink swiftly and said in a stern tone ”I’m not kidding, that’d be bloody weird.”

“Right, it would be” he said in an almost dazed tone as he shook his head and went back to writing his potions essay.

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

He liked you when you walked into the great hall ten minutes late with your group of friends.You had a slicked back ponytail with the clip right on the right side of it.

He liked you when he heard you say to your friends “Godric I’m telling you guys I love the person who gave me this clip” You said as you took the clip out your hair with a bright smile that in Draco’s opinion could make guy swoon “and get this the wings move, isn’t that brilliant?”

He was overjoyed that you seemed to enjoy the new presence of the butterfly clip.Blaise nudged him and widened his eyes.Draco finally got out of his daze and noticed you gave him a smile he quickly smiled back and looked down trying to hide the blush on his face as he looked down at his plate.

He could hear Blaise snickering on the side of him muttering something about “its sad you can’t just tell her already”

Fifth Year

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Draco was never the guy on the other end of the bullying but when Profferer Moody had transformed him into a ferret he was completely humiliated.He quickly responded with a harsh “My father will hear about this!”

That’s when he noticed you at the front of the crowd with almost tears in your eyes as you told McGonogall what happened.You really did always look perfect in his eyes.Your melanated skin was shining in the sun practically counting off the sun and that shimmering butterfly clip halfway flying around on your hair.Something about you just couldn’t stop Draco from looking admiring you.He decided to run and probably go hide somewhere from all of the humiliation.He was running so fast probably crying at this point over what happened that he couldn’t even hear some footsteps following him and few minutes later.

He was sitting down in some old nook in the castle crying of humiliation. Muttering words of “How dare he stick me down of all people bloody Crabbe’s pants” and “Godric in front of her too”.

He could barely hear the small and careful “Hi” you gave to him.

He quickly looked up with a harsh glare and when he noticed it was you his eyes softened and he responded with a small “Hey”.He then put his face back into his hands hoping that you would just go away. Even if he wanted you to stay.

“Merlin, she really is seeing me like this,” He thought.

He felt her sit by him and their legs practically touching.When she touched he flinched a bit at the contact.His father and mother did love him but his dad Lucius didn’t exactly show it through physical touch and he obviously couldn’t get his mum to come to the school and give him some kind of goodnight hug could he?

“Oh I’m sorry,I probably shouldn’t have done that,” She spoke in a rushed and apologetic tone as she started to move over to give him space.

“No you’re fine just not used to it is all” y/n felt herself saddened at those words and took it as an invitation to grab one of his hands and lace their fingers together.

At this point Draco felt like he was going to explode and even if his hands were wet from his tears he wasn’t about to pull his hand away.”Um, Draco, I just wanted to say that Moody had no right doing that” “Teachers aren’t even aloud to that here, even though you were coming after potter no one deserves that.

“Thanks for coming to comfort me, it really erm, means a lot from you” He said as he looked down at your hands the paleness of his and the brown tones of your contrasting against each other. The sight really did make his stomach erupt with butterflies but all Draco could come up with was he felt sick but a good sick.The girl he liked didn’t laugh at him when he got turned into a bloody ferret and she actually took the time to check up on him. That was enough for him.

“I’m happy it does” you said as you looked foward with a small content smile.They sat in a comfortable silence for a few seconds before y/n spoke “If it means anything,I think you make an adorable ferret” y/n said with a small laugh.Draco let out a breathy laugh and before he could even think he blurted out “Your hair smells really nice” 

Really Draco he thought you get her to sit next. to you, hold your hand, and you told her hair smells good?? Why can’t we just listen to Blaise Godric wha-” His racing thoughts were interrupted by y/n.

“Oh-Um well thank you” She responded with a small nod and a content smile and she knew this was the time.She turned to the boy beside her and said “you were the ones to get those boys detention for me right”

Draco looked up at her for the first time since she sat down eyes red and wide.He became a rambling mess and started to awkwardly state, “Well erm y-you know I just thought they deserved it b-becau-”

“And I’m also assuming you’re the one to give this clip?” She interrupted with the brightest smile her and Draco now looking at each other.

“Well erm-yes” he said meekly. He was still holding your hand resisting the urge to look down at them forever.

“How’d you know?” You said eagerly. Draco looked at you a bit confused until you said “How’d you know that a butterfly is my favorite animal?” 

Draco started to gain some confidence and said “Well I had been having a bloody crush on you since first year so I thought it was only appropriate to know your favorite animal at least ” He hadn’t noticed what he had just revealed as he continued to tell y/n things.“I’m really sorry about the hair comment too” He rambled “It's just that I've been waiting to get that compliment in since second year.” He mumbled in a way that was almost too low to hear then spoke up,“Blaise told me it was rather odd and that I shouldn’t tell you th-” 

That’s when he noticed her face.As if he hadn’t been admiring her for the past five years of his school life.She wore a look that was giving off all different kinds of emotions but the one that was mainly seen was happiness and appreciation.

“Godric no” y/n breathed out “I think that’s the best sort of compliment I could get” Draco looked at her brightly then she continued “and well” She started looking down at their entangled hands “I’ve liked you for a long time too” “If you wanted to know” She looked up at him and he was in a sort of shock? It was like he was waiting for her to say “only joking” and run away like one of the weasels.but she didn’t.

“Draco” She said in a singsong tone as she waved a hand in front of his now almost red face.

“Merlin” he breathed out with the brightest smile he could make “Well in that case IwaswonderingifyouwouldliketgotoHogsmeadewithme” He said in the fasted way he could ready to repeat it before she chirped back a quick, “Yes! Of Course!”

“I-” Draco started to repeat, “Wait you understood that?” He spoke back with an inquisitive look.

“I mean if you don’t want me to say yes-” She teased with a sly grin.

“No,I mean yes,I like that you like me and that you’re going to go to Hogsmeade with me,” he affirmed in a rushed manner. 

“Perfect!” She responded “How about we go clean you up then yea?”

“Right, that’ll be for the best,” he said with a small smile.

They shyly held hands the rest of the way walking to the prefects bathrooms and y/n helped clean up Draco. They finally talked with one another and Draco finally got the girl he was going after for five years.

Present Time

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) 

“Fine fine alright” You sighed in defeat.

“Draco Malfoy your hair is THE most beautiful thing in this world.”

He had stop attacking you at this point and you two were in a criss cross position in front of each other, you were holding his face in both of your hands and the both of you were smiling like absolute idiots.

He looked at your with a grin that he was failing at trying to hide with a pointed expression.

You rolled your eyes and said “except for mine of course”

Draco Malfoy was by far the most dramatic person you’ve ever met in your life.

One day you were in a bookshop and told him that if he went to a muggle school he would be an spectacular theatre kid.Draco for some reason had taken that to great offense and went on saying how “his own bloody girlfriend doesn’t love him” and how “she thinks I’d be in some sort of theatrical arts like Pottah and his unruly ballet”

You honestly didn’t know if Draco was trying to be funny on purpose sometimes or if the things he said just flowed out like silk unlike his hair.

Now you sat under the big tree in the Malfoy Manor garden with Draco’s head on your lap, taking about how just because the conditioner is apple scented it doesn't make it any less bad for your hair.

A/N- hey lol, Anyways this is my first fic. I would really like any constructive criticism, anything you noticed off, or anything that you think needs improvements.I really haven't written anything non school related in a long time and I really want to get back into it :) 

Also it might just be me but if any one gave a comment on my hair and it included “your hair smells good” I would just dies on spot.maybe that's just me lol.Lastly, if you didn’t know I based using a bunch of gel in your in a second year off of myself lol so let’s just say my hair was not the best.Anyways have a good night or day <3

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Heaven in Hiding

Hello everyone, it's @sasageyowrites 's birthday today and this fic in my queue is dedicated to her and only her. This is my gift to you sweetheart, sweet 17 I love you dearly. On another note I used some line breakers here because I wanted to see how they worked don't mind me I might remove them later on

Pairing: Dabi/reader

Summary: Dabi finds himself unable to get out of your shadow and in despairate need to provide for your and your daughter's safety you confront him, forbidding him of ever being able to lay his eyes on you or your baby

Warnings: Stalking I guess, I mean typical Dabi stuff you know..

Dabi wasn’t a stalker. At least that was what he tried to tell himself in any case he’d come to believe that very statement.

The wind was chilling, blowing his hair anywhere on his face, much like the endless amount of tree leaves that swayed everywhere around him. He glanced around, noticing the first specs of snow had already started to fall down following the sudden harsh blow of air. 

He huddled inside the neckline of his black hoodie, his face mask shifting obnoxiously over the metal staples that held the skin of his cheeks together. His black windbreaker jacket did almost nothing to cover him from the excessive cold wind that blew; not that he was any close to freezing -it was more of the opposite- but he’d always feel that tingling sensation of the frozen metal bars on his burned skin. They scorched on his burn even further that he could ever want to admit, but by now he was used to the pain. 

Most of the trees around him were stripped off of their leaves, their thin boles put to display for him and any bystander. The clouds were covering most of the sky, only a few tiny specks of baby blue peaked form underneath them, yet they were quickly vanishing under the mellow snowy clouds. In that moment Dabi knew, the enormous sunglasses he wore to hide his undereyes only made him look more suspsicious.

Not that he didn’t look like a fly in a full glass of milk to begin with.

The glass doors before him opened automatically, the red motion monitor beeping in his eyes as the sound of a bell rang once he entered the convinience store. The medium height stalls laid neatly before him, the colors of the numerous products almost catching his attention. He shook his head as if wanting to come to his senses, his attention span traveling back to his person of interest, the person he followed all the way to this store.

Glancing around the store, his eyes quickly met with the security camera view screen. Teal orbs paced maniacally, traveling back and forth between the numerous small windows until they were met with what they were looking for. His feet marched before he could even think, mechanically even, pacing quickly towards the direction he had instantly memorised, much to his demise.

He had to stop himself from grunting just before his body movements came to an halt. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket he sank his face deeper into his hoodie, standing before the glass covered fridge isle, his eyes seemingly fixated on the multiple cartons of milk that lead before him.

When your hand went for the matte metallic handle of said door Dabi found himself mimicking your action, putting his best effort into trying not to raise any suspision. You didnt seem to pay him any mind; as your hand extended further you hesitantely grabbed onto a powder blue carton, carefully placing it into the wheeled basket that was standing down before you.

You probably didn’t care about anyone around you; Dabi figured out that much while noticing you hadn’t even threw a glance in his direction over all the time the had been watching you. Secretly he restented just how much you minded your own business, it came to the point you were naively ignoring your surroundings completely. He knew exactly what you were thinking about; no one cared to bother with a random bypasser like you, but at least he hoped that after your time with him you’d come to understand the way criminal minds worked.

He chuckled to himself as he thought about giving you the least some credit. This was a nice neighborhood, a very well lit part of the town, accentuated in beautiful cherry blossoms that bloomed in spring, filled with numerous families as well as residents of a few of the top ten heroes. This place seemed to be inaccessible to murderous, bloodlusty villains such as himself.

At first it had seemed unreal that you were alive, free of any mark. He had thought he'd gotten the wrong person, still stuck over the fact that he couldn't do much to save you, one of the few people he had cared about in this world, but he was soon convinced, as he witnessed your meeting with Midnight, that this was in fact you, alive and well.

Yet, here he was. Following you around for God knows how many days now, obsessed with the fact that it was you that lived a careless life before his very eyes. For the most part he had tried to deny it, to convince himself that he had gotten completely insane and delusional. And he had wanted for that assumption to be correct. Because he had, or rather, he had thought he had, watched you die a horrible death, engulfed in acid, screaming in agony as it burned through your skin and bones.

And as if that wasn't an earth shattering shocker, it had to be that you were always seeming to be carrying a child with you.

Dabi wasn't dense and he wasn't lucky either. The child was around a year or so, he had figured, adorned with a set of tealy baby blues and (h/c) hair, save for her front bangs and the hair above her ears and nape. As much as he'd like them to be any other color -because, truly, such fact could actually justify the disgusting and full of jealousy throbbing in his heart every time he laid his eyes on the two of you- they shone a bright fiery red.

(H/c) bangs curtained your face as you bowed your head down, giggling as you brought your forehead to bump into a smaller one. Dabi watched as your eyes creased and squinted as a big beam was plastered on your face, your nose coming to bump on the baby’s button one. He almost smiled, sincerely even, at the interaction, though a pinch inside his chest prevented him from doing so. He couldn’t help but stop and stare, unsure of whether he looked dumpfounded or not.

“We got your milk Saku, yay!” you cheered, receiving a small squeal in response from the infant.

His fingers idled with the carton that fell under his hand, a small pink and brown carton, marked with the enormous words of any irrelevant label. His eyes fixated on it, quivering as ever, his thoughts mocking him as to whether he could try and dare to take another glance in your direction. His gut though churned, burning his insides in what seemed like an endless torturous bloodlust. Taken aback, his gut chirped, his throat seemingly forming a loop, preventing him from being able to take another breath. And.if he were to be honest, in the moment he needed one.

The anxiety rushing through his veins worked its wonders on him, raging dangerously towards his face, burning everything in its way. That disgusting antic was back, the obnoxious nervous smile he couldn’t rid himself off formed on his face under his mask. He wanted to slap himself it, yet it was hard to do so before you, it could potentially blow his cover and cause a scene that he didn’t want to in the store. As much as he loved causing mayhem, this wasn’t the time for it.

As the baby chirped, fidgeting her small open fists through your hair, he came to officially convince himself on his involvement with her. Blue springles emitted from the tips of her fingers and immediatelly the discomforting odor of burnt hair filled the air. And damn, did Dabi hate that smell.

“Baby, don’t burn mommy’s hair.” you smiled, stealing a glance in Dabi’s direction as you spoke, taking him aback by the sudden action.

Why was his heart speeding up in such demonic pace though? You probably didn’t even do so on purpose. Thinking that you were actually aware of his presence around you shouldn't be as unsettling as it seemed in the moment, in the end you were bound to notice the black clothed figure following you everywhere like a second shadow, weren’t you? Did he really think you were that stupid?

Sighing to himself he turned on his feet, proceeding to walk in the opposite direction of the one which you walked towards. He couldn’t stand being in this store anymore, his blood boiled at the thought of what he was actually doing. It was safe to say that he really did despised what he had turned into, but there was no going back. Picking up his feet, he exited the store, the chocolate milk still in his hand, burried in the inside of his sleeve.

Damn, he needed to smoke a cigarette or ten.

Dabi didn't know how many hours he had spent in the park across your apartment building; frankly he had lost all track of time and albeit having witnessed the sun set, he was unable to pinpoint how long ago the phenomenon had take place.

Snow fell down in big white blotches, littering his black windbreaker before it melted down into the fabric, only to pushed back out of its surface in the form of steam. His body was churning, the burnt skin that was held by the staples in certain areas practically oozed in tiny specs of blue cremating fire, the fleece fabric of his hoodie protesting as it ceased to exist. At this point he knew he was going to burn his clothes down if he kept staring at your windows and this wasn't his fireproof villainous attire, nonetheless he didn't feel as if his legs could move according to what his brain commanded. Nor did he feel as if he could control his own self.

When he'd think about pushing a leg forward in order to take leaping step, you'd come to the window he had a good view on and stroll around the room, always accompanied by the silhouette of the infant in your embrace and all Dabi was left with consisted of his ability to hide inside his hood or rather, his inability to get himself out of the situation. He secretly liked the way you hadn't pulled the curtain all the way across the window, whether it was intentionally or not -he didn't care to know of- he just enjoyed that he could get that tiny glimpse of you and Saku -or at least, that was the only thing he'd ever hear you call her.

Dabi wished that it wasn't so quiet, he wished he hadn't been able to hear it, but now that he had, he couldn't help but feel a little swirling bulb of bitter jealousy forming in his lower stomach. Yet was what assuring for a second was terrifying in the next; he'd never seen him around your house, or rather, he'd never seen you and him interact in any way. The only thing he knew was that you probably had many gives and takes with the heroes, a thing that put his mind to work harder than it ever should have been.

For a fragment of a second teal eyes meet with obsidian ones, forrowed straight brows met taller thinner ones. Dabi felt belittled as he stared at the male across the street who seemingly stared right back at him but he held himself back from letting out a surprised whimper as a reaction to recognising the man.

Aizawa Shouta, Eraser Head, was standing underneath the main door of your apartment complex, his fingers lingering with what Dabi had memorized to be your doorbell. The ravenette watched as you perked up, your silhouette passing by the familiar window as you paced and only a few moments later the familiar buzz of your intercom rang through the air.

He was confused. Confused beyond a sane point. Maybe that's why he had decided to stick around. Maybe, as he told himself so, you were just a mystery he wanted to solve.

"Thanks for coming." You smiled as soon as you opened the door, your batting eyes falling into the ravenette's stoic ones.

"Don't bother thanking me," Aizawa raised his palm, closing his eyes as he softly signed you to stop "I saw him, you know."

"He hasn't left that spot in the park for hours actually." You confirmed.

A deep sigh left your chest, your brows furrowing as your face fell in a despairate and miserable expression. The corner of your lip twitched and your jaw quivered as your soft pieces of flesh pressed together, a series of actions that Aizawa didnt fail to notice, yet he idled in his spot, his feet bowing slightly as he proceeded to take his shoes off. Once done, his feet mechanically marched towards you, his hands hesitantly coming to cup the tops of your shoulders.

The anxiety in your stomach leaped, throwing hellish boulders in the walls of your intestines, trying to hurt you enough so that you could come to your senses. But your mind protested on what you had decided on, fighting back with every breath you took. Your heart throbbed inside your chest, begging to spill through your ribs in mushy gashes, your throat was dry was you stared at Aizawa with wide eyes.

"Don't worry. I'm here." He spoke, sternly and before you managed to utter a words, making you squint your eyes shut.

Your hands came to hug around your form, the intense cold from outside finally finding its way inside your apartment and setting you as a target. It was now or never, you thought. The last few months ahead taken an enormous toll on you, Dabi's presence always being in your shadow was driving you insanse, filling you with rage and remorse.

He had no right to come after you and intrude on your personal life, yet you didn't know if you could try and not do the same were you in his place. But perhaps that was just an excuse you were making because you resented yourself for ever being involved in the ways you had with him.

You looked up at Aizawa, the inches that separated you, giving you a good lower view of his face. His heavy eyebags resembled his in a way you couldn't explain, his obsidian eyes that stared into yours with assurance -that was the look of a hero who had come to your rescue- yet you couldn't help but compare it to Dabi's ominus, cold glare, damn even the long messy onyx hair screamed Dabi to you and you hated it.

You hated that you could see him anywhere. Whether it was your imagination, dreams or real life, Dabi was always there, hiding in the shadow in the most prominent, ironic way, mocking you for your past choices, staring at your daughter maniacally with eyes so wide that were raged with manic.

Every night you felt like pulling your hair off your scalp, you felt like clawing your face until you ripped your skin or screaming to the walls until they fell down and came apart; you could feel Dabi's eyes on you on whatever actively you were set to do, even sleeping and in occasional fear of being cremated on your sleep.

This was the time to take action and if anyone could help you not get burnt into ashed that was Aizawa Shouta.

"He probably won't try anything funny with you here Shouta. Sakura is asleep but you can have her relax in your arms if you fear that I'll take long." You said rushing to get your combat boots out of the shelf you had them stored.

"Out of all people, did you really have to have a child with Dabi, (y/n)?" Aizawa playfully remarked, yet you furrowed your eyebrows as his expression failed to match with his tone.

You simply sighed back to him, closing your eyes in embarrassing defeat, your chest was run by a sudden chill, causing your body to absurdly perk up and Aizawa huffed through his nose in determination.

"Maybe you should wear a coat." He suggested.

"It's fine," you spoke back playfully "I actually like being cold.

Your breath formed into fog as you exhaled and you watched it annihilate into thin freezing air, your eyes glimmering under the cold lights of the street lamps, your orbs quivering from the freezing cold. You unwrapped your hands from your form as you felt the cold take over you. It was absurdly refreshing, you thought, and immediately your brain protested over your irrational way of thinking, yet your gut was scorching and at least the snow falling on your hair and nose was providing you with some newfound comfort.

You wanted to pick up your pace, but your frozen legs ignored you, deciding to prolong your misery further, your toes going numb with each step you took closer to Dabi's direction. He didn't even flinch. Not even once. You wondered if you shall take another step towards him, the terror that run through you raged over the theory that Dabi was only trying to catch you off guard before he fried you alive.

Still, you focused your gaze on the small streak of smoke that bled out of his hoodie. Soon the smell of tobacco filled your almost too numb nostrils as the sound of Dabi's snarky breath filled your ears. It was criminally quiet tonight, though this street wasn't normally filled with people, many school kids would chose the park across your apartment to hang out after school or during the late hours of night, but seeing how bad the weather was tonight you could blame anyone for not chosing to freeze themselves to death.

Of course, Dabi and you were two of a kind.

"Care to share a cig with me?" You spoke with determination, managing to let out a small hint of teasing in your voice to mask your fear.

"You actually practiced that line or something?"

Dabi chuckled in your direction although you could listen to the dryness in his tone. His hood covered head didn't turn in your direction just yet but his hand reached for one of his pockets, then leaping into another, taking short anxious movements, perhaps, you though, to throw you off. You were though sure Dabi could practically smell fear and if that was true whatever he was doing, he was doing it to mess with you, you knew how he much loved corruption or how he enjoyed the reek of fear from a few of his victims.

"Don't twitch like that, I'm just looking for my pack."

There it was. Yeah. Of course he was messing with you. Great, he was going to kill you weren't he now?

Dabi shift uncomfortably in his eat on the snow drenched bench, his hip bones clashing with the hard wood beneath him but he pushed through the discomfort he was feeling because now he was facing you.

Your jaws were clashing furiously, the hoodie you were wearing was probably doing nothing to keep you warm and for a moment he seriously thought about removing his windbreaker and tossing it over your shoulders, but he knew you wouldn't accept it, so he set on saving himself from the embarrassment.

Picking a hand out of one pocket he presented you with the small carton that held a couple of cigarettes and you didn't miss a chance on grabbing one, not even giving it a second thought. Looking around, you realised there was no lighter in sight and you sighed as Dabi offered his pointer finger, the digit adorned with a sheer blue coowling crown and naively you bowed down, taking a drag as the fire touched the edge of the cigarette.

You didn't bother thanking him as a constipated expression masked your face, your hands coming to rest under your bust just in case you'd ever get tired of holding your cigarette with your lips.

"Care to sit down?" Dabi remarked and you absurdly turned your head in the opposite direction, taking a drag through the filter, the stinky taste of nicotine filling your tingling on your taste buds.

"No, Dabi. You know why I'm here. I can't deal this anymore."

"You can't deal living without me little mouse?" He snarled, his hands quickly working on replacing the smoked cigarette that hung from his lips with a fresh one.

"Dabi I'm serious." You said, squinting your eyes "This is driving me insane. Did you really think I wouldn't notice you?"

Despite your tone suggesting that your question wasn't rhetorical, Dabi made no effort to even part his mouth to reply.

"Care to tell me what you want from me?"

Silence. Dabi looked at you as if you were speaking in a language he couldn't recognise, as if your words fell deaf to his ears.

"Dabi, I'm not going to beg for my life if that's what you want, and I don't appreciate that you're trying to entertain your psychopathic kinks." You said, voice below your normal pitch, indicating the small hints of fear that came with your intuition.

"Is she mine?"

The question hit you like a truck. Shaking, you couldn't help but feel like a deer blinded by the headlights, your blood running cold in your veins. Could you truthfully answer that without setting yourself and your daughter in danger? Stealing a glimpse of your window you vaguely made out Aizawa's silhouette and your heart warmed at the soothing reassurance that came with the action.

"Would it matter for you to know? What would it change?"

"Wouldn't you want to know if you had a little bastard marching astray?" Dabi monotonously remarked, making your stomach growl with rage.

"Sakura isn't a dirty stray dog, you're in no place to talk about her like that, not when you don't know what I went through for her." You raged, your eyes glowing with anger as you burned holes in Dabi's teal orbs.

So that was the name you had given her- Sakura- a plain overused name with a beautiful meaning, Dabi could atone for the fact that he liked it. Nevertheless, he stared at you, his lips puckered together in a determined manner, his cigarette never leaving the right corner of his mouth.

"Hit a nerve, little mouse?"

"Stop calling me that Dabi." Upon snarling you stomped your foot to the ground.

"How should I call you? I don't think I caught your actual name."

Dabi was bitter and he had every right to be, or so he told himself, he felt enraged to look in your direction, yet so speak to you and to top it all his stupid, idiotic feet were shaking and he didn't feel like he could get up, he could only stand there and stare at you, but this was unlike any other time. This time you were staring right back at him (e/c) orbs burning holes into the back of his brain.

But he wasn't going to give in, despite whatever he felt, he wouldn't give in to how soft he viewed you as, he wasn't going to give in to how your familiar smell filled his nostrils or how his heart set at an orbit of its own due to your eyes in his. Anxiously, he took another drag of his cigarette before taking a look towards your window, making out Eraser Head's silhouette in the dim light.

"I won't try to kill you, by the way, you didn't have to bring your friend over."

Your expression hardened as Dabi mentioned Aizawa, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes immediately fell in his direction once again.

"You don't have to obsess over Shouta as well."

"Ah, already on first name basis? With a man that much older than you and here you are calling me Dabi?" He whined playfully, but still his feet wouldn't move.

"What I do in my life is none of your business, you don't have any right on me because you knocked me up-"

"So she is mine."

If you could, you'd wipe that smug look that was immediately plastered on his face, but you knew better and you hated that you did. You knew that he smiled like that when he was in discomfort, you knew that he couldn't move from the spot he was seated on, you could still see through him and it killed you, it killed you because on one hand you were utterly afraid of what he could do to you and on another you wanted to bring a palm to his face and call him by his name.

"Look Dabi," you sighed in defeat "to answer any of your questions, Sakura is your daughter and I brought Shouta here because I'm afraid you're here to kill us. How am I supposed to know you're not playing dumb with me because you want to kill me?"

Dabi quirked a brow at you, bringing his hand to the top of his hood and pulling it down, his hair tousling in the air. "Can't I just be amazed that you're living a careless life when you're supposed to be dead?"

You averted your eyes from his in shame, your body shivering slightly for a brief moment. "I was supposed to take down small nameless criminals Dabi. I fake my death so I could get out of there with my ass saved."

"I should kill you, you know, I've entrusted you with very significant information about me." Dabi growled, his fingers starting to springle in the tiniest specs of cobalt.

Despite watching them dance before you, your gut felt numb and you could thank the freezing cold for that, but you didn't feel the growling eruption of fearful anxiety grow inside you anymore.

"Well it was your fault that you trusted me enough to tell me your name and purpose, but I won't spill the beans on you. Unless..." You prompted, finally taking a seat next to Dabi, your thigh merely brushing against his own.

"Unless?" He inquired, intrigued as ever.

"Unless you leave us alone, Touya." You whispered the name below the sound of a breath, making sure no one around you could hear, yet Dabi quivered by the sound, his eyes glued on your lips. "The truth is, I don't want you associated with Sakura. How will the world treat her if they find out she's the daughter of a serial killer?"

"I... I just." He hesitated.

"You what? If your villain friends know about her they're going to come after us, being a single mother is fucking me up already, give a girl a fucking break Dabi."

You were dumbfounded by how bold you were getting and you only had yourself to blame, cornering the villain felt dangerous and endearing at the same time, his otherwise dominant behavior had crumbled in only a few tiny seconds and between them you had managed to call the shots and push all the right buttons, corrupting your way into the point you wanted to make.

It was true, during your time working undercover to take down small criminals you had indeed picked up on the way criminal minds worked. And in moments like these you used it to your advantage.

"Can I just see her once?"

His tone took you aback, sending your eyes to spread wide as a surprised expression masked your face. His voice was pleading and small, soft and intruding poking you to spare him with any pity you had in you. Shaking your head, you came to your senses, finally aware of the fact that your thigh was pushed against his.

With a shagged breath you made a move to get up but you were forced into the cold bench once again by Dabi's hand, the sound on shifting filling the air as you growled on your spot.

"You don't get to tell me what to do little mouse." He barked, his digits digging into the skin of your thigh almost painfully. "I want to see my daughter. How come that hobo of a man can see her when I can't."

"Dabi, I just explained why I don't want you around her."

"I have every right don't I?" He asked.

"Actually, you have no right, you're a serial killer Dabi, you shouldn't have any right, the only reason as to why I can't arrest you right now is because all I have are this stupid healing quirk and that I have no license to do anything to you. Now if you go in to my house, Shouta isn't going to go soft on you."

Dabi growled in his seat, his hand leaving your thigh as he maniacally went to light another cigarette, this time the small spec of fire dancing on his quivering finger.

"This is a warning, stop stalking us." You sighed and brought your palms over your knees with a slap before straightening them to stand up.

"Wait-" Dabi said as he watched you take a few steps away from him, his head extending to your direction. "If- if you heal me, will I be able to see her then?"

You didn't dare turn around to face him, instead you hugged your chest, taking in a deep breath as you lowered your head to stare at your shoes. The voice inside your head was hot and sweet and it bowed to your natural instinct as a healer, somewhere deep inside your chest you felt as if that in a way it could work. But even if you took away what made Touya Dabi then would he really ever atone for all his sins? You knew you wouldn't be able to sleep with both eyes closed if he were to be by your side, his ideals weren't just something he could give up just because he would leave his appearance behind.

"Look, Touya, I really like Shouta, please don't ruin this for me." you whispered, your voice raspy but you never managed to turn to him. Whether your statement was a lie or not was up to Dabi to decide.

"No wait."

You didn't respond to his call out. You simply hugged your chest tighter, pressing your breasts with your cubits as you took fast steps towards your apartment complex.

You chose to ignore the fittings that you heard behind you, the commotion he was causing coming second to the way your heartbeat annoyingly pulsed in your ears. When Dabi's palm hazed over you you heaped, your breath cutting short and consequentially being trapped inside your weary lungs.

"I'd never hurt a mother and a child." Dabi gulped, his fingers being moments away from brushing over your clothed skin.

But you didn't care, you simply lowered your shoulder, throwing your collarbone forward in an attempt to escape the upcoming contact of his body with yours. You set your feet to work, rapidly and uncarefuly sliding through the snow as you tried to get away.

And once again all Dabi could do was stop and stare. You didn't care about the churning in his gut, you didn't give a damn about the ashes of his heart either, there was no heaven in hiding for him, just this bitterweet taste of tobacco in the buds of his tongue, and the unbearable stinging in his eyes. All he was left with was his wish to see you and Sakura again.

And maybe he could do that. He just needed to become a silent shadow.

[akampana]

17 or 21 Ozy/Arturia for the confessions prompt 👀

21- We need to stop dancing around it. All it does, is hurting us both!” Modern AU Ozymandias x Arturia ((These are becoming more like fics than drabbles but eh.) ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ________ Today marked seven years and seven months since his wife died.

Ozymandias contemplated the thought over a glass of wine, lounging on a leather couch that wasn’t quite his. Then again, the piece of furniture had found the genius architect to be its most frequent occupant, so perhaps that last claim wasn’t quite correct.

The sofa’s actual owner stood by the window, blonde hair loose and gleaming in the moonlight. A slight flush colored her pale skin, from the alcohol and—Ozy believed—the company.

“This wine is quite pleasurable. Heh. You have learned my preferences. As you should, Miss Pendragon.”

To his delight, the addressee turned at the sound of her maiden name, blessing him with the aurora-like irises that had first captured his attention three years ago.

Her eyes back then were detached and distant; hardly a fit for the heiress to such a prestigious property development company. As the Egyptian shook hands with Uther, he almost dismissed the young lady by her father's side.

Then, their gazes locked. Ozymandias Nuru saw himself reflected in the woman’s deep green pools, and she became a curiosity. The lauded architect thought it puzzling that someone so young could be so burdened, but as they began working together, he began to pick up the pieces.

Picture frames on her desk that lay face down. A visiting lawyer bringing papers for her to sign. A lighter band of skin on her finger where a ring must have sat before.

Arturia Pendragon was suffering a loss, but one unlike his. For while he pined for one beyond the grave, she ached for a woman that still lived and breathed.

There was a moment in time when he debated which one of them was worse off. The one who’d loved and lost, or the one who was never loved at all. It didn’t matter, he’d come to realize, as their meetings became more ‘casual’ and less ‘business’. The widower and the divorcee had one evident commonality:

Loneliness.

For better or worse, it made them seek each other out. His name eventually appeared next to hers on charity guest lists. Hers, wherever his wife’s would have been, if the love of his life were still around. Then of course, there were nights like this one, that had no labels save for the brands slapped across the deep green bottles that sat in ice on the coffee table.

Though blurry faces around them began to suspect, never once did he think of Miss Pendragon as a replacement. Even if he tried, it was hard to see his wife’s warm smile in her serious turn of lip; hard to remember sun-kissed skin when Arturia’s was lightly freckled porcelain. Then there were the latter’s locks of spun gold, which very rarely he had the opportunity to brush from her shoulder.

There was no replacing Nefertari. Only acceptance of the fact that he wanted another in his life: the woman who silently waited in the driver’s seat while he visited his spouse at the cemetery, his dependable ‘plus one’ through otherwise frivolous charity events, his dear companion that invited him for wine every so often.

“Red and significantly aged, with a balanced structure...and a hefty price tag,” Arturia muttered calmly as her business partner strolled toward her. “It was not all that difficult to deduce.”

Ozymandias huffed out a laugh at her comment. She was getting harder to tease.

She was beautiful as he beheld her, dressed in the lapis lazuli gown he provided her with for the gala earlier this evening. After three years of knowing each other, she finally trusted him to commission a dress that would suit her, and suit her it did. The seamstress had done a fine job highlighting the rich blue with gold. Arturia looked as wonderful in his colors as he predicted.

As the Pendragon heiress brought her crystal glass to her lips and set it down, his amber eyes were distracted, travelling down her silhouette to the strap that had come loose upon her arm. The man’s finger looped itself under the black garter, gently brushing her skin as he replaced the strap upon her shoulder.

When his eyes met hers once again, he realized, breathless, that he was close enough to kiss her. His gaze flickered to her parted lips as she whispered his nickname in a question, the wine they both savored deliciously hanging on to the soft flesh.

Suddenly, it was as if she had a gravity, slowly drawing him in with every moment that passed. Not for the first time, he felt his heartbeat quicken for the short woman before him.

Arturia’s velvet heels thudded softly onto the floor-to-ceiling window as his hands pressed onto the thick glass behind her.

His doubts disappeared as he leaned forward, finally giving in to the desire that had festered within him for the last few months. He wanted this. He wanted her. He loved Arturia Pendragon and he was...ready. Ready for the possibility of another happy beginning. Ready for a second chance.

His lips collided with her palm.

“Don’t.”

As new cracks began to appear on his already shattered heart, Ozymandias enveloped her hand in his, feeling her pulse just under her skin.

“You reject me, even now that I can feel how your heart beats for me?” he anguished as she refused to look him in the eye.

“You’ve misjudged my feelings, Oz,” she accused, her words cutting like knives yet her expression conflicted.

“Have I?” the man asked, moving his hands to her cheeks to bring her gaze back up to his.

Arturia removed herself from his touch, hugging herself for...comfort? Protection? She didn’t know. Her teary-eyed gaze dropped down to her empty ring finger. Though the mark of her failed marriage was no longer there, the scars of that once-love ran deep.

She didn’t dare face the man behind her. Not because he was wrong, but because she knew Ozymandias held the same place in her heart as Guinevere once did. And like her, he now had every power in the universe to tear Arturia’s soul apart.

The woman’s breath hitched in her throat as the man rested his head upon her shoulder from behind.

“Have I?" he queried once more, the warmth of his breath ghosting across her nape.

Seconds passed in silence as he wrapped her trembling figure in his arms. All the while, she wondered when she'd gotten comfortable with the widower's touch. Was it all the dances for charity? The times he helped her up the steps while she was in heels? The way their hands brushed when toasting a drink?

Arturia bit her lip, denying the tanned man his answer. Any assent that left her mouth would be a lie, and yet she wasn't quite sure if she was ready for the truth.

“Hear this now, Miss Pendragon: I cannot be satisfied knowing I am merely a friend to you. However, if my affections are not returned, I must hear your rejection, unlikely as it is.”

There was always a certain confidence in the way that the architect spoke. Even when he’d placed his future into her hands, he made his statement without fear.

"We need to stop dancing around it," he argued at her silence, surer than ever that his feelings were returned. "All it does is hurt us both."

Slowly, the architect closed his eyes, patiently waiting for her answer. Hers was the heart that needed convincing. Arturia turned to face him, reaching up to cup the older man’s face between her palms.

“You know of my divorce—”

“And you know of my loss,” he interrupted, meeting her jade orbs with his amber ones. “Neither should keep you from me, and neither will. All I need is your answer, Arturia.”

Arturia hung on to each of Ozymandias’s words, savoring the sound of her name in his voice. As she searched his gaze, she found no doubt nor dishonesty, only certainty. How lucky Nefertari must have been, to have married someone like him.

The Pendragon heiress got on her toes, promising to the heavens that she would not waste the second chance she was given. Theirs were wounded hearts, but even wounded hearts could love just as ardently. When the man closed the rest of the distance between them, this time, she didn’t stop him.

Today marked seven years and seven months since his wife died. But for both of them, today also marked the start of a new life.

[slytherflynn]

Old and New | Pt I

Blaise Zabini x muggle!reader

word count: 1971

summary: y/n is new to France on a study abroad trip. Blaise is visiting France post-Hogwarts. rags to riches story of an unfortunate muggle falling for a complicated, ridiculously wealthy person who just so happens to also be a powerful Wizard.

a/n: this started with an idea, became a moodboard, then became an entire fleshed out fic! I thought it would be short but my brain had other ideas. enjoy! note: I did write this from my personal perspective in life. as a result it is not very inclusive. I plan to change that with my next fics, I’ve just been having a really hard time lately and have been writing a lot of comfort fics and/or self-inserts to escape from irl bc irl is rly shitty for me rn

It’s a brand-new start, in a brand-new apartment, in a brand-new city, in a brand-new country... an ocean away from home. I can bring Tacoma to France, right? At least, that’s what I’m trying to tell myself. Study abroad is fucking... scary. I kinda regret it. It’s a good opportunity and for someone who doesn’t travel, it should be a fun experience. But I’m currently having an anxiety attack over taking out the garbage, so I’m not sure my positive self-talk is working.

I look out the window of my top floor apartment, wait until someone finally finishes walking down the stairs, and run out my door - I nearly trip about five times going down the spiral of death, my arms feel like jelly thanks to perpetually pushing my garbage deeper in to avoid this trip, and I swing with all my might to hurl my garbage bag into the trash compacting dumpster - only it hits the bottom lip and falls to the ground, splitting open.

“Great!” I say, sarcastically, “First they send my luggage to the wrong location, then they try to say my passport isn’t valid because my apartment was a temporary address, then I’m greeted with a fridge full of rotting food and no power, then I’m bitten up by fleas and now - I just- fuck. Why can’t I just- do anything- right-“ I cut myself off when I hear a screen door slide and blink a couple times to erase the threat of tears that had been creeping up on me while I ranted.

When I look up, I see a tall, dark-skinned guy about my age - handsome. He’s wearing a suit, and expensive jewelry. Combine that with the fact he’s living in the apartment building next to me, which is worth more than my life just for one month of rent, and I put together that he’s probably rich beyond belief. I quickly look away, not wanting to stare. I silently pick up my garbage, piece by piece. As I work, I feel eyes drilling holes in the back of my head. I ignore it. It continues, and I still ignore it as I finally shove my ripped garbage bag in the compactor and slam the door shut. I hear a slight jump up above, and chuckle to myself.

I zoom back up the stairs and almost make it to the top, but I trip 5 stairs away from my door - and fall, hard. Body laid out flat hard. Cheek scraped and stinging from the metal grating on the stairs, hard. Lost the goddamned slide that caught on the stair, and can see it gradually falling, bouncing and rolling down the stairs, hard. I lift my head and see blood on the stair. I feel it running down my face. All I can think is that this really fucking hurts. The tears come, a combination of pain and frustration, and I pick myself up and stumble my way into my apartment, completely forgetting about the attractive rich boy who just watched me be a danger and inconvenience to myself.

I rush to the kitchen and grab a roll of paper towels, and run to the bathroom, I see the markings in the mirror and can tell it will leave a sizeable scar. Do I need stitches? I don’t know. Anyway, I start dabbing at everything and blood is still oozing out of every nook and cranny, to my displeasure. I’m about to start bandaging my face when I hear a knock on my door. “Fucking Christ!” I mutter to myself as I slap a wad of paper towels on my face and sulkily go to fling open my door.

I’m not sure who I’m expecting, but to see the same rich guy on my doorstep, slide in hand, probably wasn’t it. “Hey, um, I saw what happened, and I thought you might want your shoe back.” His accent sounds very British - I was expecting it to sound more like a snooty Frenchman’s.

“Oh. Um. Thanks.” I say flatly.

As my muscles twitch to begin closing the door, he says, “Would you like some help cleaning that up? I have certifications to give medical aid... and stitches. My name’s Blaise, by the way.”

Doctor, maybe? Probably. “Sure,” I say, opening the door wider and standing back so the blood doesn’t drip on his suit. “I’m y/n.”

A few minutes later we’re in my bathroom, me sitting on the toilet, him sitting on the bathtub as he helps me fix my face. “So, Mademoiselle y/n,” He asks, “Do you find yourself in these predicaments very often?”

“Which one? Poverty, flea bitten, or bloody?” I say.

“I suppose whichever you’d like to think I was referring to.”

“Well, in *that* case - I’m usually caught unawares in all kinds of predicaments - though I’d say self-injury due to clumsiness is an uncommon one. And do you usually find yourself in predicaments requiring you to treat someone’s wounds?”

“I used to, though now it’s only on the occasion.”

“Sounds like an improvement,” I note. “I won’t guarantee it, but I think I’ll get the hang of walking up the stairs soon enough, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily mind it if I did worry about you once or twice more. Why were you running? It seemed like you wanted to get away from something. Does your garbage compactor smell that disturbing?”

“It doesn’t smell great,” I admit, “But truth be told, I’m not a fan of human interaction. It’s scary. Especially when everything is new to me.”

“How long have you been In France?”

“A few days, just enough to get myself physically settled.”

“I see. And you are from America?”

“Mhm. Let me guess, my accent gave it away.”

“And the slang, I’ve yet to hear someone from France use certain terms that you seem to favor.”

“Oh, most of my slang is specific to my city, not just my country.”

“Your city?”

“Yea, Tacoma. It’s near Seattle, if you know where that is. Tacoma’s better, though.”

“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been there. My mother is a fashion designer, but she only travels where there’s inspiration or a business deal.” So that’s how he gets the expensive clothes. The rest of the money too, probably.

“Must be nice, having a handmade closet.” I muse. “Not that I care for having any more clothes than I brought. They’re pretty reliable, if I do say so myself.”

He laughs. “Yes, well, if the blood stains don’t come out of your jumpsuit you might need a new one. They shouldn’t be too difficult to remove, though.”

“Yea, I’ll just dump a bucket of Oxi-Clean on it and call it a day. That is, if any stores nearby have it.” I frown, realizing I have no clue if France carries any of the products I usually get. This is gonna suck. Hopefully the internet has some answers so I don’t have to ask anyone for help.

“Why don’t I take your jumpsuit back with me? Save you the trip. Believe it or not, I used to have chronic nosebleeds, so I know a thing or two about stain removal.” Blaise offers.

I smile, only just. “Well, if you insist. But I love this jumpsuit practically more than myself, so I expect it back right away!”

He returns the smile. “A fan of fashion? You ought to meet my mother.”

I chuckle. “I’m sure your mom would despise me - I only own seven jumpsuits and some athleisure for going on runs.” I pause, then tack on: “Oh, and some fuzzy pajamas for when I’m sick.”

Blaise cocks a brow at me. “And when you’re not sick?”

“Don’t worry about it.” I grin mischievously.

A wave of recognition graces his eyes, and he very quickly looks away, I assume for being flustered.

“You Americans, always so scandalous.” He tsks in mock scorn.

“That’s what we’re known for, is it not?” I say cheekily, “Beer, boobs and gun barrels. And all the other problems that come with that, but that’s a can of worms I am not looking to open today.”

He ties off his handiwork, and says, “It looks like my job is finished, other than stealing your jumpsuit off your back to fix it. I can wait in the other room, if you’d like?”

“Um, yea, that works. Lemme just, grab my next jumpsuit. Gonna have to do laundry early, I suppose-“

“I can wash your jumpsuit for you. I’m pretty good at reading labels, if I do say so myself.” He jokes.

“Oh?” I say, “Then you must be a real genius! Who taught you, Einstein?”

“No, but it was another white-haired, eccentric man, so you’re not that far off.”

“When all teachers are like that it’s kind of impossible not to hit relatively close to the mark.” I remark, then change clothes as quickly as I can, tossing the dirty outfit into a trusty plastic bag and tying it shut.

When I walk out to the living room, Blaise is toying with one of my sculptures. He’s definitely been meandering and lurking around. “Enjoying yourself?” I ask, at which he jumps. “You’re rather skittish, Blaise.”

“And you’re rather quiet on your feet, y/n.” He observes. “But yes, I quite like your eclectic style. If only you had an apartment that let your customization shine. Something more minimalist.”

“Yes, well, it’s something I’ll forever dream of and likely never accomplish. I don’t suspect I’m going to be someone leaving the income level I was born into.” I say, just a little bit cynical.

“And why is that?” He asks.

“Because most people don’t, and the ones who do are the ones who make money. My career isn’t going to make me money.” I reply.

“So why did you pick it?”

I sigh. “Because somebody has to care about the people like me. The politicians don’t, the middle class don’t, and the rich are hell bent on keeping us there so they can have factory workers and have people going straight to prison after they graduate because we’re all desperate and miserable.”

He frowns. “That’s terrible.”

“It’s reality. And I don’t want to be like the people who get rich and stop caring because all they see is the wage difference and pretend it’s justified so they don’t have to feel complicit in the system.” I look him in the eye, my face grim. “Not all luck is by chance. Most of it is by design.”

He nods. “I understand, in a way.”

“Everyone does.” I say. “But understanding in a way and caring enough to do something about it are two different things.” I look away from him when I see his posture change. “I’m not trying to be rude, but it’s impossible not to notice the wealth gap between us when you’re wearing designer clothes and living in what looks like a mansion and I’m living in a building made in like 1900 with no elevator. It’s just the way things are, though.”

“I know.” He says quietly, thoughtfully. “I’d better get going. Your clothes?” He reaches out tentatively for the bag I’m still holding.

“Oh. Right.” I say, handing it to him. Our fingers brush against each other slightly, and it sends chills down my spine. He heads to the door while I’m rooted to the spot, collecting myself.

“I look forward to seeing you again, y/n.” He nods, meeting my eyes with a rather changed expression.

“I’ll see you soon, then?” I ask, not quite sure which answer I’m expecting.

He smiles, only just. “As soon as I am able.” Seconds later, he’s out the door, and I’m alone in my dingy ass apartment. How in the fuck did any of that just happen?

[lillifaba]

A Very Merry Lurlinemas Eve

A very late, self-indulgent domestic one shot with the Thropp/Tiggular family I wrote for Lurlinemas! Hope you enjoy and have a Happy New Year!

Art by the beautiful @noether3​ ; Full image here! (Be sure to reblog if you like it!)

                                  ┍━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅��� ━━━━┑

“Yero, did you wrap the presents for Nessa and Boq yet?”

Elphaba hovered over the cradle, gently swinging it back and forth whilst making silly faces and babbling nonsense at the child nestled inside. At just twelve months old, Liir was amused by everything. His big, green eyes glimmered in the light from the fireplace, his mouth in the shape of a small o. He wrapped his tiny fingers around Elphaba’s index and cooed. 

“Yeah! I got them right here-”

He cursed slightly above a whisper when he stumbled into the living room and nearly tripped over his own feet.

“Fiyero!” Elphaba scolded. “Not in front of him! I don’t want his first words to be foul.”

“Sorry,” Fiyero sheepishly chuckled and set the presents under the tree. “It’s not like he can understand what I’m saying. Isn’t that right, little buddy?”

He squatted down and blew raspberries into his soft belly, making him squeal and giggle. Elphaba playfully rolled her eyes, brushing back the short, dark curls that fell over Liir’s forehead. She pinched his chubby cheek and got up to look at the haphazardly wrapped gifts Fiyero placed below the tree. 

“... Please tell me there’s still left over wrapping paper.”

Fiyero looked over his shoulder, still in the midst of a tickle fight with Liir. “Hm? You don’t like the way I wrapped the presents?”

“Yero, I say this with all the love in my heart... it looks like you layered the paper around the box several times and slapped a ribbon atop it.”

He feigned offense. “Fae! How could you? I’m wounded by your horrendible words!” 

“Oh Fiyero…” She sighed defeatedly.

“I’m kidding... Come on, what difference does it make? They’re going to be ripped apart tomorrow— why stress out over how the wrapping paper looks?”

“It shows that we put some thought into their gifts and didn’t wrap them up at the last second.” She stripped away a piece of excess tape stuck to the shiny emerald paper.

“Well, we technically did- but they’ll get over it once they see what they get. I can already hear Glinda screaming for joy when she opens hers.”

Elphaba rearranged the small, pink gift bag that contained the jewelry set for the petite blonde. It was true, they both put a lot of thought into what they planned to gift their loved ones.

“Well… I suppose you’re right,” She smiled up at him. “Thank you for wrapping the presents, Fiyero.”

“You’re welcome,” Fiyero walked over to her, Liir in his arms. “I must be the luckiest man in Oz to have the most patient wife, right Liir?”

Liir babbled nonsense in response. 

“See? He agrees.” Fiyero planted a sweet kiss on her cheek. 

“Of course he does, he has my brains.” She quipped. 

“Oh ha-ha...” 

They took a moment to gaze at the tree. Liir’s eyes twinkled at the dozens of multicolored lights glowing on the branches. His tiny hands reached out to grab an ornament doll made of tin. Elphaba gently pulled his wrist back before he inevitably put it in his mouth.

“Y’know… this’ll be the only time we’ll have for ourselves,” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Tomorrow will be one big day of festivating with the others.”

Elphaba hummed in agreement, stroking his cheek affectionately.

“-Hey, what do you say we celebrate a little early— just the three of us?” He suggested.

Elphaba looked at him, perplexed. “You mean… open our presents right now?” She quirked an eyebrow in doubt. “Shouldn’t we wait for everyone until tomorrow morning as courtesy?”

“No, no- just one present each!” Fiyero assured. “It’s a huge pile, no one’s gonna notice if a box or two is missing. Besides, with all the guests in one room, how will I get to see the absolute look of joy on your face when you open my gift?” He lightly squeezed Liir’s cheek and spoke in an adoring voice, “-and our boy has been good all year round! Well, aside from throwing up all over my dress shirt last week.”

“Oh, he didn’t mean to do that,” Elphaba smooched her son’s temple. “Maybe papa shouldn’t have spun you in the air right after you ate.” 

Fiyero winced at the statement. “Alright, that was on me- but the point is he deserves one early gift tonight!” Speaking in his baby voice, he smiled down at Liir. “You wanna see what Lurline brought you this year?”

Not comprehending any of his words, Liir incoherently blabbered. Fiyero took that as an agreement and plucked something out from the tiniest stocking hanging above the fireplace. He hid it behind his back as he returned, bending his knees to be at eye level with the child.

Fiyero presented a plush doll: a cutesyfied monkey with small wings stitched to his back and a friendly smile. “Look! This is for you!”

Elphaba played up her excitement at the toy, lightly bouncing Liir in her arms and coaxing him to look at it. The young boy looked unfamiliar with it at first, not sure what it was exactly. When his mother didn’t stop his tiny hands from touching it, he grasped it. A slow smile grew on his face, followed by giggles.

“Happy Lurlinemas, Liir.” Fiyero kissed his cheek. 

“Say thank you to papa,” Elphaba encouraged. The infant was far too preoccupied with his new toy to even acknowledge her. “I guess we’ll have to work on expressing gratitutions later…”

“He’ll learn.” Fiyero promised. He beamed brightly and ruffled his messy, raven hair.

“Well, since we’re at it,” Elphaba carefully handed Liir over to him. “I’ve got something I hope you’ll like.”

“Fae, you could give me a pebble as a gift and I’ll love it.” 

She leaned down and reached behind the tree. “That’s quite the reassurement, but I promise I got you something one step above a pebble,”

Wrapped in shiny emerald paper with a gold bow on top, Elphaba handed him a small box. “Happy Lurlinemas.”

Fiyero eagerly took it and lightly shook the box next to his ear. He handed Liir back to her and tore it open, revealing a gold wrist watch with a green dial. There were five, smaller sub-dials inside the watch, each one labeling the time of day for all the provinces in Oz. 

“Elphaba…” Fiyero carefully held the watch in his hand, examining it in pure adoration. “This is... I can’t even begin to describe it-”

“Do you like it? I wasn’t sure if it was something you’d wear daily.”

“Elphaba, I love it! It’s beautiful! Thank you, my dearest.” He placed a peck on her lips. With her help, he secured the watch around his wrist and basked in its glory. “-Speaking of which, I’ve been waiting all year to see your reaction to what I’ve got for you.”

“Is that so?” Elphaba watched him scour through the presents until he said “Aha!” when he found a medium sized box. 

“Here...” Fiyero sat cross legged on the floor. Elphaba followed suit and passed Liir over to sit on his lap, taking the somewhat heavy box in her hands 

“What’s this?” Her brown eyes lit up with curiosity. 

“Open it and see for yourself!” Fiyero grinned. 

A smile grew on Elphaba’s face. She tore away the gold wrapping paper, revealing a wooden box. Confused, she unlocked the latch and opened the lid. When she removed the bright blue fabric on top of her gift, she gasped in disbelief.

They were ruby slippers. Nearly identical to the silver slippers her sister owned. Elphaba had once brought up to Fiyero the time her father gifted Nessa the priceless pair of shoes as a parting gift at Shiz. While she did not care for extravagant shoewear, she remembered how hurt she felt when Frex didn’t give her something as little as a postcard. 

At the time, it felt like a stab to the heart, seeing Nessa look so beautiful and elegant in her new slippers while Elphaba lugged around in worn out boots like a beggar. It was a painful reminder of how low she thought of herself before she found the people she loved the most in life.

Elphaba couldn’t hold back her tears, her fingers hovering over the red jewels. “Yero… I- I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything…  your face speaks a thousand words.”

Elphaba placed the shoes to the side and frantically wrapped her arms around him. Fiyero placed a hand on the small of her back, laughing wholeheartedly at the kisses she planted all over his face.  

Below them, Liir cried out. Elphaba cupped his cheek and placed soft kisses on his tender face as well.

“Oh, I didn’t forget about you.” She spoke sweetly, smothering him in kisses. 

“Happy Lurlinemas to my most beautiful wife and son.” Fiyero said.

“Your only wife and son.” Elphaba teased.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He helped her remove her booties and slipped her shoes on. They were the perfect fit, comfortably tailored to her size. She stared at them in admiration, once more thanking her husband with kisses. 

The pair spent their evening playing with their child, enjoying the sacred time they had together.

                                     ┍━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━┑

Thanks for reading! I’m sorry this is probably not my best work and that it was posted a little late in the season. This was mostly a self-indulgent fluff fic I’ve been meaning to write since I see so little of the Thropp/Tiggular + Liir family dynamic. I’m also technically still a little new to publishing fiyeraba fics that maintain their characters. Bear with me please haha ;; 

Thank you again to Emma for the beautiful art! Show your love by reblogging and commissioning her if you can!

[sometimesiwritebadly]

illicit affairs (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: You catch feelings for Spencer after the two of you start casually sleeping together. He doesn’t.

Warnings: Sexual themes, no actual smut though. 

Notes: ANGST. This is based off of the song illicit affairs by Taylor Swift! The song implies that there’s cheating but I can’t see Spencer ever cheating on someone so the scandal of this relationship is that reader and Spence are co-workers and there’s a pretty big age gap. (OBVIOUSLY reader is 18+, I imagine late 20s cause they’re in the FBI. By season 15 I think Spencer is in his late 30s/early 40s) This takes place AFTER the season 15 finale so if you haven’t finished the show don’t read this! There is a pretty big spoiler for the finale! Oh also I tried to make this gender neutral but if I accidentally left in any female pronouns lmk and I’ll fix it :)

oh another thing, I’ve seen a lot of people writing based off of songs from folklore (as they should) so just a little disclaimer: if this bears any resemblance to another story based off of illicit affairs it’s a coincidence! I’ve purposely been avoiding most of the stories i see based off folklore songs cause i don’t wanna accidentally steal an idea but i also understand that there’s only so many stories you can make based off of one song so there’s bound to be some elements that are shared between different fics.

~if it’s in italics it’s a flashback~

Word Count: 1.8k

Masterlist

You’d only been the BAU’s technical analyst for a month the first time. It had been hard joining the very close team, considering you were the youngest member and you were replacing one of their closest friends, but Spencer had taken a liking to you faster than the rest of the team. You knew none of them meant to make you feel bad, but sometimes you felt like you were living in the shadow of the great Penelope Garcia. You never missed the comments about how much she was missed, how great of a hacker she was, how she always came through. Spencer was the only one who actively avoided comparing you to your predecessor. So, really, it’s no surprise that you ended up in his bed after the team came back from a rough case. Unfortunately for you, that was the beginning of your doom.

~ the first time ~

The team was getting off the jet after a rough case. Normally, as the technical analyst, you didn’t have to travel with the rest of the BAU, but this one had called for you to be on site for the first time since you joined the BAU. You were tired, and heartbroken from the deadly results of the past couple days, and all you really wanted to do was go home and cuddle up in bed with someone. Of course, you didn’t have anyone to be with, so you’d have to settle for a cup of cocoa and a comforting movie. As you headed to your car, you heard one of your co-workers, Reid, calling your name.

“Y/N?” You stopped your walking and turned to see the doctor walking towards you. “Do you mind giving me a ride? It’s late, I’d rather not try and get a taxi at this hour.” If it was anyone else, you probably would’ve said no, but you couldn’t resist Spencer’s charm. He was over 10 years your senior, and you knew it could never happen because of workplace rules, but it never hurt to dream. 

“Y-yeah, of course. You live on 23rd and…”

“42nd street. It’s not too out of your way, is it?”

“No, not at all.” It’s on the opposite side of town. You’re sure he could easily tell if you were lying, but he was either too tired to notice or willing to ignore it. When you finally glanced up to meet Spencer’s eyes, you found him already staring you down. With a light blush forming on your cheeks, you lead him to your car.

On the ride to Spencer’s, the two of you discussed how you felt about the case.

“How did you feel with everything? I know you usually don’t have to see firsthand everything that goes on during our cases.” He asked.

“It was..a lot.” You paused, letting yourself steal a glance towards Spencer before focusing your eyes on the road. “I much prefer experiencing these cases from behind a computer screen.”

“That’s understandable. Garcia was the same way. It’s always good having someone to talk to about the rough cases.” 

The conversation continued, but you weren’t really focusing on the words passing between the two of you. No, you were much more interested in Spencer’s hands. Specifically, his left hand, which was slowly inching closer and closer to your thigh. By the time you were pulling up in front of his apartment building, his hand had reached your lower thigh, just above your knee. Now that you weren’t driving, you could face him, and you found that he was carefully watching you. “Is this ok?” He asked. If you wanted an out, this was it. No lines have been crossed, no rules broken, it’d be so easy to stop this now and go back to normal at work Monday morning. 

“Yes.” Once the words left your mouth, Spencer leaned towards you, closing the gap between you. The kiss started gentle, but was far from innocent. You let him have complete control as he explored your mouth. You could feel his intentions through the kiss, and you knew you’d be in for a night. When he pulled away, you could see that his pupils were bigger, and you were sure your face was completely red. 

“Come in?” It was a question, but it felt more like a command. Your only response was to remove the key from your car’s ignition before you both quickly headed up to Spencer’s apartment.

~~

Your many nights with Spencer started out comforting. Whenever there was a rough case, or just a bad day, you could count on him to make you feel better. You were far from a relationship; No one knew that the two of you occasionally slept together, and you never talked about it outside of your meetings. You supposed you could label it as friends with benefits, but that felt like it downplayed what you were to each other. Or, what Spencer was to you. You’re not stupid, you know that he doesn’t feel for you the way you do for him. You’re well aware that you’re not exclusive, and that he has no obligations to you. But when you’re together, which is becoming more and more frequent, you’re really together. Sometimes it’s easy to forget when you’re with him that he’s not your boyfriend. He gives you gifts, calls you baby, sometimes he even brings you to fancy hotels. But the second you two separate, your relationship makes a 180. In the bedroom, you’re “baby.” At work, you’re “kid.” In the bedroom, you wear the perfume he bought you and he praises you for it. When you dared to wear it at work, he’d completely ignore you. 

Every minute you spend with him, you fall a little bit more. But every second you’re apart, your heart breaks over and over again.

~ the hundredth time ~

You were in your car, outside of Spencer’s building. As the two of you kissed, Spencer pulled you on top of his lap. You pulled away for a moment, but he captured your lips once more before you could get your words out. This time, your hand pushed him away so you could speak. “Shouldn’t we go inside?”

“Why not just stay here?” His lips found your neck for a moment before he kept speaking, “It’s faster. We cut out the middleman, you can get home sooner.” You were glad Spencer’s lips were focused on your neck, because it meant he couldn’t see the insulted look on your face. You knew the two of you hadn’t been quite as romantic lately, if ever, but you felt like you were slapped in the face when Spencer implied that even spending the time to walk you to his apartment, having a nice conversation over a drink was just the “middleman.” Before you could respond, however, he pulled away from your neck and looked at you. “Besides, haven’t you always wanted to do it in a car?” And just like that, his charm had caught you again. You smiled, and kissing him again, harder this time. You put all your energy into focusing on him, making each other feel good, and no on how your once romantic nights were slowly turning into quickies whenever Spencer felt like getting off.

~~

At work, you and Spencer were good at keeping it professional. Both of your jobs could be in trouble if people found out. When you really thought about it, you knew that Prentiss would probably be ok with you two dating if you went through the proper procedures with HR, but Spencer had said it’d be better to keep it secret. You didn’t want whatever you two were to end, so you went along with it. 

Today was a rare calm day at the BAU, with no new cases for the team to work on. You’d been catching up on paperwork in your office, but when you were in need of coffee, you decided to stop by the other team member’s desks on the way to the coffee machine. Now that you’ve been with the team for over a year, You’d gotten pretty close with the members. You and Luke have inside jokes, you babysit Matt and JJ’s kids, you, Tara, and Rossi bond over your shared love of old cars. When you walked into the office space, you weren’t surprised to find Spencer, Luke, and Matt talking around their desks instead of doing paperwork. When you walked past the trio, you overheard their conversation.

“So, Reid, you coming tonight? Rossi said he’d bring out the good scotch.” Luke asked. You knew they’d been planning a poker night. Not really your thing, but you figured you’d join just to be with the team. Spencer’s answer to the question is what really got your attention.

“I can’t. I’ve got a date.” You almost tripped over your feet on the way to the coffee machine when you heard him. A date? 

“Oh? Is this the same girl from last week?” Matt asked. As you poured your coffee, you tried your best to listen in without being obvious. You and Spencer had been together last Wednesday...were they talking about you? Had Spencer mentioned that he was seeing you? Did he consider your hookups as dates?

“Yup. I’m not sure where it’s going yet, but I’m excited.” Your mind was racing at this point. Either your dreams were finally coming true, or you were about to get your heartbroken for the millionth time. You were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even notice that Spencer had made his way towards you to get himself another cup of coffee. “Y/N? You alright, you look a little worried.” He asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. You knew you should wait till you’re in a more private location, but your words come out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“A date tonight? I didn’t think we had plans.” You took a sip of your coffee, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. If he was talking about you, you didn’t want to seem over excited. But if he wasn’t, well…

The face he made gave away the answer before he spoke. “Oh, uh, no. We don’t.” Ouch. “I met someone at the bookstore near my place a couple weeks ago.” He paused, not making eye contact with you as he poured his coffee. “That’s uh,” His voice was lower this time, “That’s not a problem is it?”

“No! Not at all.” You answered a little too quickly. “It’s not like we’re dating, right?” You didn’t wait for his answer before you walked away. When you made it back to the safety of your office, you couldn’t help the single tear that dropped from your eye before you got back to work. 

Instead of going to Rossi’s with the rest of the team, you spent the night alone with a cup of cocoa and a comforting movie, like you wish you had a year ago.

~~

taglist: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @la-vie-en-amour1 @peculiarinsomniac @andreasworlsboring101

[artnerd1123]

Among Us: CR3WM8TS

Beneath the Waves ——————————————

It’s not just the humans who do the exploring. Especially when their ships are so easy to poke around in... 

Among Us archive/askblog Fic chapters post

——————————————

at long last!!! we have the introduction of a very special guest! and by that, i mean the one member of the crew who has yet to appear LKSJDF. that’s right, it’s nubnub’s debut! hope y’all enjoy :D

and big big shoutout to @vaaloirr​ for proofreading this for me!!!!!! y’all should check hir out, ze’s rlly rad :>

                                                 ###~###~###

SHIP SYSTEM LOG REPLAY: TIMESTAMP [HR:MIN:SEC]: 01:27:02 AFTER ARRIVAL

System setting: DOCKED [STORAGE AND VENT MONITORING]

Location: SECTOR G Ship Status: DOCKED AT [PLANET 326-OCE-894 - SECTOR G] Course: N/A Systems: 

Supplies: [ONE] CRATES SHORT  

Storage Chutes: CLEAR

Vents: CLEAR

…

Supplies: [ONE] CRATES SHORT  

Storage Chutes: MATERIAL BUILDUP DETECTED  

Vents: CLEAR

…

Supplies: [ONE] CRATES SHORT  

Storage Chutes: CLEAR

Vents: CLEAR

                                                  ###~###~###

Today was a better day. A simple statement, with much behind it. A better day implied much. It needed a reason. Something to set it apart from the others in a positive manner. To those who cared, it all boiled down to the sky’s sudden roaring. That meant whatever was living above the water might be leaving a gift instead of pain.

The first time it happened, everyone had fled to the deep. The sky was not meant to roar. When it did, it could mean many things. None of them were positive. It could mean death- the large beaked horrors that flew about above the waves were merciless with their soft-bodied kind. It could mean fire raining from above- rare, yes, but it had taken one too many of them for their liking. It could mean horrible flashes of light- the huge crackles of terrifying light leaving those too close to the surface charred and twitching. This time, they expected no different. The seas were always one to change. But danger never had. So when the roaring died down to bring a myriad of different noises, different lights cast into the water and towards the sky, no one was sure what to think. Many wanted to move out of the area. There was more reef, sure. Plenty far away from whatever was scuttling around on the coral. Some wanted to wait in the deep, confident the sky’s beasts would finish off beings that tried to live on the surface. An idiotic choice, with them around. And still others… well. They were a curious species, after all. It was only a matter of time before they found out the strangers had something useful.

                                                 ###~###~###

The sky finished roaring not too long ago. The water surrounding the coral island seemed to have settled. But all was not as it appeared. Just out of sight, a quartet of scarlet eyes quietly watched the goings-on of the strange house. They guessed that’s what it was- in the handful of months the strangers had been here, the multicolored figures always seemed to retreat inside. There was all manner of things stored in there. They hadn’t gotten a good look, of course- their curiosity wouldn’t lead them headfirst into danger- but peeks in the windows showed plenty of shiny metals and blinking lights. Not to mention they’d sometimes take the top of their shiny coverings off. It was a shock to see that for the first time. But their rainbow of smooth coverings just made them all the more intriguing. It seemed to factor into their very social fabric! The strangers were fascinating to watch. Fascinating to hear, too. The strangers’ voices carried over in the sea salt breeze, making the creature’s smaller set of ears flick forwards. They had to wait until they heard the right thing to head inside. The sounds these strangers made were in some sort of odd, squeaking tongue. Like the delphiins, if a bit deeper in pitch. It didn’t take too long of observing to realize it was a language. Didn’t take too long for those of their people who remained to try and understand it. The creature was certainly doing their best. It took a lot of work, a lot of watching, and a lot of listening. They were getting the hang of it well enough, so they thought. But observation wasn’t what the hidden swimmer was here for today. They eased a bit closer, their large pink back tentacles holding tight to the side of the coral island. Their back claws scraped lightly against the webbed rock, front paws flexing impatiently. Peeking around the side of the strangers’ house, they spotted plenty of them moving about outside. That might’ve been a problem. The sight of them swarming about large capsules, though, put their mind at ease. Ah, yes. The strangers brought each other containers from far away. They didn’t seem to hunt or farm at all, or sit out in the sun long enough to survive, so they needed sustenance from their brethren. Fair enough. Their first set of eyes trailed wishfully after the multicolored swarm and their capsule. The other set strayed to the place it emerged from. It was some sort of house that flew- they’d heard it roar in and out of the sky plenty of times. They also knew that’s where the capsules were kept. Their mind wandered briefly back to the time- a few weeks after the strangers appeared- that their friends and themself managed to knock one of the capsules into the sea. Oh, how they’d feasted on all the food inside… The months after were just full of finding the best ways to get at them. And, of course, how to recognize which capsules had food, and which ones had more strange metal objects. They’d never have to worry about food again, so long as these strangers were around. Of course, there was still the matter of getting the capsules in the first place. Which was easier said than done. They’d been careful to keep track of what colors they saw as the strangers scurried past. In previous trips, their friends had been able to steal an unused covering to sneak around the ship. They noticed the strangers got rather distressed if they saw more than three of the same color walking around during a drop off. They got nervous if there were two, if the other flying house was absent. They’d all whisper about some “eemposster,” and then the creature and their friends would have to lay low for awhile. The bad thing about a drop off like this is that you didn’t know which suits would be in the house. From the looks of it, the creature would be hard pressed to find an unused color. So, waiting on plan B it is. As worried as the strangers were about those “eemposters,” they didn’t seem to guard their flying house after removing their capsules. They had no reason to, they supposed. They had what they wanted. The creature ducked under the waves, tentacles pulling them along the rocks and coral. Their brown fur and bright teal accents kept them relatively well hidden, though the business of unloading capsules did the job better. They popped the top of their head out once they reached the back of the flying house. One pair of ears flicked forwards, they listened carefully to the strangers’ conversation. One of them- a green one with a star shaped marking- was busy talking with another- a bright blue one with a similar star mark. They were leaders, if their observations were right. The green one was gesturing to the flying house, saying something about ‘crayts’ and ‘dun unlohding.’ The blue one seemed pleased by this. As did the creature. Those words- ‘dun unlohding’- was the all clear they’d been waiting for. Turning their attention to the flying house, the creature approached it carefully. There would be a hatch somewhere they could get in… they just needed to remember where it- aha! There, near the water- a hatch surrounded in yellow and black stripes. They chirped to themself excitedly, suckers glowing in satisfaction.  They darted closer, eyes fixed on their prize. Once they were under the hatch, they carefully reached a pair of tentacles up towards it. They made sure their suckers had a nice grip on the metal before drawing their body up too. They studied the hatch carefully, their remaining tentacles helping anchor them to the metal surface. It was closed tight, a squarish pattern locking the sides together. Fortunately, this flying house seemed a bit old. The doors weren’t as tightly sealed as they usually were. The creature stuck the tips of their claws in the crack, wiggling and scraping at it until they had a good purchase. Grip established, they carefully braced themself against the side. And yanked. The resulting screech of stubbornly moving metal made them cringe, but there was no shout of confusion from back on the island. They squinted as they yanked again, metal groaning in protest. But it gave away soon enough. It always did. They grabbed the edges of the hatch with their tentacles once it was open enough, holding it so they could squeeze inside. These were the times they were glad their body was so malleable. A dark, dirty metal tunnel yawned before them. They chittered again as their claws hit the floor, proud of themself for sneaking in. Of course, their pride faded the second their tentacles let go of the hatch sides. It shut with a rather loud slam. They didn’t manage to clamp their mouth shut before a surprised shriek slipped out. They slapped their front paws over their mouth, curling into an anxious ball. Had anyone heard them??? Was it over??? They sat silent in the dark for a couple minutes. Waiting. Nervous. … when nothing happened, they let the tension leave their body. Ok. It was ok. They’d just. Move a little quicker this time. Turning their back to the hatch, they started crawling up the tunnel. The dark was no problem- they could see just fine. Not to mention the soft teal glow of their suckers and short horns. It made the whole place feel like a sea cave… if a bit stranger to move in. After all, there was no water up here. They reached another hatch soon enough- it was outlined with the same yellow and black stripes, some red squiggles above it like a label. They weren’t even gonna try to decipher what it said. But they knew it was their way in. They were more cautious with this next hatch, squeezing through carefully and slowly easing the sides back together. It still gave a louder thunk than they preferred, but it was leagues quieter than the last time. Hatch troubles taken care of, they let their gaze trail to the room around them. It was a tall one, with plenty of large capsules sitting around. Some of them even sat on top of each other. The thought of all the food inside was already making their mouth water, tongues lolling out of their mouth… … They shook themself out of it. Focus!!! They scolded themself. They still had to find a food capsule. They took a moment to tuck their tentacles into their back- no need to leave them out to hit things in such a cramped space- before slinking towards the nearest capsule. It was large. Too large to get out of the hatch, unfortunately. But they gave it a sniff anyway, hoping there’d be something worth snagging. The scent of iron and copper greeted them. They curled up their lip with an unhappy chirp. No, not that one. They moved on to another one a little closer to the entryway, tail flicking eagerly.

The process of sniffing and poking at capsules continued for longer than the creature would’ve liked. All the food was better hidden for some reason- it was frustrating. Eventually, though, they rooted out a small capsule that smelled absolutely tantalizing. They stood over it gleefully, claws twitching in eagerness. If it wasn’t foolish, they’d rip it open and chow down right this very moment. However, this wasn’t their home. And they didn’t know how long the strangers would stay away. So they grabbed the capsule, digging their claws through the steel outside to gain a hold. Their tentacles slithered out of their back, lifting their body off the ground as they held the capsule protectively. From there, they picked their way across the room and back to the hatch. It was a little harder to get it open this time. Not necessarily because they couldn’t use their front paws- that was fine- but rather they had to use another set of tentacles to do so. As strong as they were, the slimmer ones on their arms had no suckers to help hang on. But they managed in the end. It was a straight shot back down to the other hatch once they were through. They’d figured out the one in the other room, so this? This was a cinch.

The only signals that anything was amiss was a metallic thunk as the hatch closed, and quiet ripples as the creature disappeared under the waves.

                                                ###~###~###

SHIP SYSTEM REALTIME LOG: System setting: DOCKED [STORAGE AND VENT MONITORING]

Location: SECTOR G Ship Status: DOCKED AT [PLANET 326-OCE-894 - SECTOR G] Course: N/A Systems:

Supplies: ERROR - RELOADING…

Storage Chutes: CLEAR

Vents: CLEAR

...

Supplies: ERROR - RELOADING…  

Storage Chutes: BLOCKAGE DETECTED - PLEASE EMPTY

Vents: CLEAR

…

Supplies: [TWO] CRATES SHORT  

Storage Chutes: CLEAR

Vents: CLEAR

[murdersexual]

So... When are you going to post that LeoPika fic? 👀👀👀

Mane bet... 😏 But I might delete it later! Here’s part one!

🚨WARNING!🚨

Rated MA for Mature Audiences only. NSFW.

Sex, Drugs, Alcohol, Gambling, Gun Violence.

NOT COMPLETELY PROOFREAD.

May have a few out of character instances for I wrote this around 3am, so please excuse that.

✨Ship/Pairing✨:

LeoPika (Leorio x Kurapika)

March 3rd, XXXX, En route to World Resorts Casino, around 9:47pm:

The weather in Yorknew hadn’t exactly started to reflect that it’s close to Springtime yet. It’s still cold and snowy but that wasn’t going to stop the event that’s being hosted by some of the biggest names in Underground Crime.

We’re talking about a night full of sex, drugs, alcohol, gambling and music.

It’s also the night of Leorio’s 21st birthday and he’s in town, steaming hot for he’s yet to receive a ‘happy birthday’ call from a certain Mafia Leader with the most gorgeous of light blonde hair. However, that’s not all... In general, Leorio is ultimately tired of trying so hard to be the glue to what’s considered an already unfixable relationship. The point of his visit this time is to give Kurapika a piece of damn mind for what may be the final time.

What a way to spend his birthday, right?

The hot blooded koi fish found himself strolling down the cold streets of Yorknew by his lonesome. His enticing hazel gaze is relative to the weather... Cold and piercing. He wore the meanest of faces with his lips decorated in a sheer pout. Then his face and ears are red from the whipping of the snow and frosty winds. The thoughts that went around his sophisticated skull only ruses him further. With each step he took, the snow crunched beneath his expensive waterproof combat boots. The sound gave him a slight sense of calm—one that managed to steal attention momentarily.

“I forgot the last time I’ve even enjoyed the Winter...”

The words came rolling off his tongue. His eyes slightly softened as he now comes to a brief halt, a soft sigh exhales from the tall doctor-to-be. He finds the dark sky that slowly drops the small white flakes. Being the jovial spirit he knows he could be, he sticks his tongue out and catches a few of them. His handsome features are now graced with a soft smile only to see the lights of his destination illuminate the skyline. With a low growl, he’s reminded of his current goal.

“Bet even YOU won’t see me coming...”

His icy glare returns and the tone of his voice has lost all signs of benevolence. His words came out way darker than they should’ve.

But can you blame him though?

Continuing his traverse through the snowy lands of the busy city, he adjusts his earmuffs while now stuffing his gloved hands back into his long black winter coat. The brunette’s hair is messy and filled with snowflakes, such a look makes him appear rather gentle despite his mood. His trademark circular shades are gently shaded from the current weather but that doesn’t stop him from seeing now does it?

‘When I get there, I promise this time I’m gonna knock his fucking lights out.’

The thought got his adrenaline flowing. Now he yearns to cause physical damage. The question is... will it actually happen? This IS Kurapika here. He’s not gonna sit there and take that shit, UNLESS... he ACTUALLY accepts such a punishment.

Leorio knows how aggressive he can be but he is more angry than sad. He won’t ever come to say it...

But the idea of not being called on his birthday genuinely hurt him.

It felt like a slap in the face, especially for everything he’s done. He’d never miss any birthdays or special occasions and it’s to the point where he feels like it’s only him who thinks that way.

‘I give too fucking much to not get much—better yet, NOTHING in return!’

Being a person with a heart the size of the world this is the curse: to always be dealt a hand that’s never going to win. Knowing him? He wants to break that curse and by default there’s no better way to do it than to throw hands. His actions always spoke louder anyways.

Crossing a few streets and nearly fighting one of the people who almost hit him, he finally makes it to his destination—World Resorts Casino. Entering through the slide open glass doors, the bright slots, signs that point to everything and even the neon-like decor nearly blinded him. The smell of expensive imported cigars, cigarettes, various alcohol and a multitude of different colognes and perfumes filled the air. His nose burned from the mixture of scents all around. A low grunt emits as he now removes his gloves and earmuffs. Stuffing both in his pocket, he proceeds to walk ahead while undoing his silver buckle, his finely seamed gold buttons and his golden zipper. It revealed the finest of outfits!

He’s wearing a sleek black slim fit blazer that fits rather nicely around his muscular arms, a jet black satin button up that’s halfway unbuttoned at the top and neatly tucked in his matching sleek slacks that’s accented with a gold buckle Gucci belt. Tapping his feet to rid of the snow from the bottom, he walks on ahead only to meet one of the Casino Bunnies.

“Welcome to the World Resorts Casino, my fine gentleman! If you’re looking for the event labelled ‘How To Play Russian Roulette With a Criminal Mastermind’, it’s from the second floor on up! Here’s a complimentary welcome drink! May you enjoy your time here~!”

Giving a quick bow, the busty beauty now switches away, her semi-exposed cheeks had a little bit of a wiggle to them much like her makeshift bunny tail. With a smirk as he watches her, he stirs his drink and takes a sip, now charmed by how well it’s mixed.

“Not bad!”

Heading to the stairs that’s decorated in the cutest of roulette wheel numbers, he heads up, his ears are open and listening to the music that’s being played. He hums while trying to figure out what floor Kurapika may be on...

Speaking of him?

Kurapika’s right hand reaches for the roulette wheel, the midnight blue and black ombré nail polish that was still on his hands matched with the blue and purple ambience that is on the 8th floor. In his left, he held a half empty shot glass, now proceeding to spin the wheel. His right leg is crossed over his left, his foot gently swung to the beat, a soft smirk now decorating his face for he’s caught up hosting the Roulette Table.

“What’s your bets?”

He asked the two players, a woman in a black short evening dress that seemed one size too small, her breasts looked as if they were about to pop out of it and her bodacious hips, butt and thighs made the dress rise to the point her black g-string nearly showed. But it’s a good thing she has her legs crossed right?

“I’ll take all even on red, my kind sire~”

Her voice cooed, almost in a flirtatious tone towards him. To be honest, she’s been debating on attempting to charm him since his grand appearance earlier in the night. He knew that just from her gestures and body language alone. Those light grey orbs swished over to the woman beside her, she held herself up, a cigarette now being doused out in an ashtray, she wears a smile on her ruby red lips as she now casually blows smoke into the air.

“Mmm, can luck be a lady tonight~? I think I’ll take all even on black, hun~”

Sipping the little bit of cognac that’s left in his shot glass, he sets it down and looks to the wheel while mentally trying to calculate who’s going to win this round.

“How much?”

The busty lady was quick to answer...

“I’ll put 100 genie on my red~”

The ruby red lipstick lady smirked at her.

“Hmph, I’m a bit of a daredevil, so I’ll do 700 on my black~”

With that being said, he spins the wheel and actually narrows his choice down to who’s going to win.

‘Ruby, otherwise she wouldn’t have bet so much. She’s confident that all black on even will be victorious. And she’s not wrong... Tara’s bet was a safe one so there’s a lack of confidence in her choice. I know I’m the reason why she’s picked red... I have my earring to blame.’

“And the winner is...”

His eyes carefully watched the wheel as it began to slow up. The tiny little ball clicked and clanged until it fell onto...

Black, 26.

“Ruby.”

‘Just as I thought.’

Indeed, he knew it and with a gasp of disbelief, Tara pouts before reaching in between her breasts and pulling out a total of 800 genie. She hands it over to Ruby who takes it and waves it like a fan over her.

“Mmm, I can smell that vanilla perfume with a hint of boob sweat~ You were nervous weren’t you, doll face~?”

Tara gives an eye roll and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Hmph! What’s it to ya? Ya won already!”

She squeaks angrily. Getting up from her chair, Ruby wanders over and stands behind her before leaning down and wrapping her arms around her, she plants a kiss on her cheek before using her alcohol tinged tongue to sensually lick the shell of her ear before nipping at it and tugging on it. She purrs playfully.

“Better behave yourself, kitten~”

A soft squeak emits from Tara who huffs softly. She hates how she plays at one of her many weaknesses.

“Oh fine! But you’re on the couch tonight!”

“As long as my face is between your legs, I’m fine with that.”

The exchange between the two didn’t really surprise the blonde. As a Mafia Leader, he’s come to accept the shit he’s gonna see on a pretty regular basis. Taking his ice cubes and holding them into his cheeks he sets up for the next spin only to receive a call.

“Ugh...”

He knew whose voice it was off the back. He blinks his eyes closed as he slides the answer icon to the right and places it to his ear.

“What...?”

On the other line, that soft voice of Melody’s muttered...

“You have a visitor on his way to you... He seems very pissed...”

But who exactly is SHE referring to?

‘Oh don’t tell me...’

“Who…?”

He was enticed to ask anyways.

“I think it’s Leorio! I-I’m not sure, the only heartbeat I recognise that’s this fast and full of anger is yours though... It doesn’t seem like him at all...”

His eyes found the sky as he worded ‘my dear family, I do apologise, but fuck me gently with a fucking chainsaw, please, speed on low and blades on extra sharp.’ He made Tara and Ruby giggle for they read his lips perfectly. With a gentle sigh, he asks...

“Okay... so is it him or not…? I’m in the middle of hosting the roulette table...”

Her answer would’ve been immediate for she could hear the irritation starting to ruse. But before she could answer, she was spotted by the angry Leorio. His eyes glinted as he knew she was snitching.

“U-Uh!”

“MELODY!! TELL THAT FUCKER I SAID... BE READY TO FUCKING FIGHT!!”

Now leaning to his left hand to pinch his nose bridge a dreaded sigh left Kurapika.

“...Great.”

👀👀👀

I see that you’ve made it this far... This is ONLY part one. I currently have three full parts. So if you’d like to see the rest? Let me know! (EWW I CANNOT WRITE WTF! 🥲) I do apologise if this is all over the place but I knew that I’d get asked to post this some time around!

[kieraelieson]

2nd Place Fic Contest Winner!

@battlebunnyteardropsinthesun

“Are you labeling me? And not in the metaphorical fashion, you are literally putting a label on me." with Logan and Remus? Maybe with Virgil and Roman in the background?

This one was fun!

Logan looked down at the sticker Remus had just slapped onto his arm. “Are you labeling me? And not in the metaphorical fashion, you are literally putting a label on me.”

The sticker was vaguely green, with Remus’s name on it.

“Don’t take it off!” Remus yelled, somehow looking both exuberant and pleading at once. “Roman’s trying to get Virgil for his team, and my only hope is if I have you and Dee Dee!”

“Team?” Logan echoed.

Just then, Virgil ran through the room, ripping stickers off of his jacket as fast as Roman, who was chasing him with a label maker, could add them on. The two had passed through in a matter of seconds, yelling loudly the entire time.

“If I attempt to remove the sticker, I will fall under a similar fate, won’t I?” Logan said, turning back to Remus.

Remus shrugged. “You won’t have to find out if you just leave it.”

“Very well, I will leave it. What is its significance?” Logan asked.

But Remus was already leaving. “Imma get Dee! Don’t let the red ones get you!”

Logan frowned. Red ones?

His question was soon answered by a screaming Patton running into the room and hiding behind him, pursued by a swarm of small flying creatures. The swarm was made up of roughly half red and half green creatures, not one quite the same.

Logan quickly inferred that they had been drafted into some kind of war game. He grabbed Patton’s wrist, and they both ran until they reached his room, and Logan slammed the door shut. Patton ran to his closet.

“They can get through doors!”

“What do they do?” Logan asked.

“I don’t know. But I don’t want to know!”

There was an odd buzzing sound from the other side of the door, and the door trembled as if it was being drilled through.

“If we take the stickers off, will they leave us alone?” Logan suggested.

“That just makes all of them come after you, I already took my sticker off.”

Logan could see a disturbance in the wood, as the creatures were almost through.

Patton let out a scared sound and hid in his closet.

And then the small creatures burst through, swarming over Logan. He froze, half in terror and half in curiosity, but only the red ones approached him. And… bumped into him? They left red marks wherever they touched, but they didn’t appear to have any desire to hurt him.

Suddenly the door burst open, revealing Remus and Deceit.

“Awww! You let them get you!” Remus whined, already swinging his mace through them and making them disappear in puffs of red powder, leaving red all over Logan’s room. “Now you’re dead, and it’s just me and Dee Dee.”

“I still do not understand the objective of this… is it a game?”

“It is similar to paintball, I believe,” Deceit remarked. “Why are there green ones in your room? Are you harboring an enemy?”

“Hey, yeah!” Remus exclaimed.

“Patton has removed his sticker. He is now neutral and I will not allow you to rope him into the game further unless he chooses to do so.”

“Aww, Logie, you’re no fun!” Remus pouted. “Let’s go get Roman!” And then he was off again.

Deceit gave Logan a slight wave. “I’ll tell you when we win.”

[thecloserkin]

Doom (2005) fic roundup

I have now recommended this action/sci-fi/horror film based on a bestselling video game franchise to not one not two but three friends and I am happy to report they all concur, cinema Peaked in 2005, this is the best movie ever made. I watched it for the first time on @shipcestuous‘s recommendation: She has an extremely thorough breakdown here, and the pitch of her enthusiasm and the penetration of her analysis are without peer. Honestly I can’t think of a single reason not to watch this movie. Watch it for Rosamund Pike. Watch it for Karl Urban. Watch it to marvel at how much Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson’s acting chops have improved in the past 15 years. I have now seen this cinematic masterpiece three (3) times and I have zero (0) regrets. There is a sequel out, Doom: Annihilation (2019) but it’s not worth your time. Recently I went through the John Grimm/Samantha Grimm tag on ao3 and read every single fic, most of them for the second or third time, and I had a fucking blast. Friends, if any of you would like to experience this cinematic masterpiece for yourselves please please PLEASE message me and i’ll send you the link to dl it.

Doom (2005, dir. Andrzej Bartkowiak) is about a squad of Marines dispatched to contain a zombie outbreak in a secure scientific facility on Mars. There is no earthly reason for it to be set on Mars btw so I just chalk this decision up to video game continuity (same with the first-person-shooter sequence in the third act, which is five minutes long and it was the longest five minutes of my life). What’s impressive about this film is it somehow manages not to glorify (1) the military or (2) the scientific establishment. It’s a film stuffed to the gills with dudebros (outside of Rosamund Pike they’re all dudebros) yet to my eternal delight the humor actually landed, and I think the anarchist bent of the narrative is a big part of why (anarchist as in hella skeptical of authority). I don’t think it’s giving too much away to say this is another “we tried to cure cancer, accidentally unleashed the zombie apocalypse” setup. What’s surprising is that the protagonists are failed by science, as an institution. Our protagonists are one of the Marines (Karl Urban) and his estranged twin sister (Rosamund Pike), who is an archaeologist at the quarantined facility. The chemistry between these two is instantly and unmistakably through the fucking roof. The first time they appear in the same frame the other Marines mistake her for his ex, and it just gets better from there. Every time I watch it, the final frame of this film has me flailing and screeching. I still can’t believe we got a mainstream movie that was this good to us—horror movies in general have a track record of being good to us ‘cest shippers, but this is on another level.

cold hearts, thawing by merely (3k) They’re on the run and they get FAKE MARRIED!!! My god the amount of characterization smuggled into this—Jon and Sam getting hot for each other’s respective areas of competence is my entire kink. It’s not predominantly humorous in tone but the humor slaps in the best way. This is my forever favorite because it was written by one of the friends I got into the movie, so tailor-made for meeee ❤

Before, During, After by anr (1k) If you plotted the arc of their lives it would be a circle. Something about the spareness of the prose & the amount of stuff occurring in the interstices really stayed with me. I realized later it’s because I’d read another of the author’s fics from a diff fandom—it’s in the same mode, love to see it when authors just nail that one register.

DOOMED by chase_acow (1k) ”I thought you said your microbiology was rusty!" "You know I like it when you give me the bottom line.” Lmaooo. In case you haven’t noticed this fandom consists almost entirely of post-canon getting (back) together fic.

Normal by mneiai (<1k) Shut the front door did somebody say pre-canon getting-together fic??! Of course we all know 90% of the reason John enlisted was to flee his feelings for Sam right.

Glimpses of Clarity by izzyb (1.5k) John and Sam have rough sex and it’s completely consensual, but still scary. Part of working through trauma is recognizing that removing oneself from the traumatic situation does not, in itself, dispel the trauma. John has this inability to relinquish control, or abate his vigilance—except, apparently, when he’s fucking Sam hahaha.

Written in the Scars (of our hearts) by Mercury32 (21k, unfinished) I don’t read a lot of soulmark AUs so idk if this is common but it turns out John and Sam are not soulmates??? He gets his tattoo covered up because he’s only ever wanted Sam. They’re on the run because there’s a nationwide manhunt on and they take refuge in their grandpa’s cabin in the woods and along the way they meet Jon’s actual soulmate but he chooses Sam. He will always choose Sam until the day they put him in the ground. The conversation where they explained to their ex-CIA grandfather how they were going undercover as newlyweds is unadulterated gold.

No Heroics by amathela (3k) They go back to their jobs. They try to keep John’s newfound abilities under wraps so as not to turn him into a target or a military guinea pig. The stakes are high but it’s so …. whimsical? And domestic? It’s so good ahhhhh I love it when they’re trying to hide something other than the incest. “He never was able to win an argument against her.” “She rolls her eyes. ‘Not all of us are as pretty as you.’”

He a Tiger Will Be Who Drinks of Me by Brenda (3k) This story is packing some serious mythological and folkloric resonances. I was going to label it post-canon but half of it is pre-canon. When you frame their relationship as Ares and Aphrodite, Selene and Endymion, it does seem inevitable doesn’t it? All roads lead to you.

Need You Tonight by Mercury32 (2.5k) Hot damn it’s a pwp that’s kicked off by Sam having nightmares, and is all about how Sam trusts John implicitly. I still think about the way Rosamund Pike delivers that line in the movie, I know you, like, on a weekly basis. “You've ruined me for other men and I'll probably be walking uncomfortably tomorrow, but no, you didn't hurt me.”

And I Know What You’re Thinking by amathela (1k) Sam loses a lot of blood and John donates his. Course, now that John is a genetically modified superhuman this creates a psychic bond between them. Nobody does dialogue like amathela does, it’s like you can hear the words behind the words the characters are saying.

Homecoming by amathela (1k) Not as playful as her work usually is but still lovely and understated.

Ephelides by Rahmi (1k) Sam gives John anatomy lessons and it’s sexy as haaaaale. "Just because I'm about to give you a handjob doesn't mean I'm not still your sister.” "Your intelligence reflects on me. And you're my brother. Therefore, you're intelligent."

The Edge of DOOM by chase_acow (1.7k) I don’t know what’s going on but the apocalypse is here and Sam and John are shooting things.

If You Don’t Know Me by Now by Mercury32 (4k) Sam and John rifle through his unsent letters and it isn’t 100% full-blown epistolary but we still get a firm idea of what they were up to for those ten years apart. Ok but CONSIDER: what if they sent each other birthday postcards. Imagine!! This line in particular cracked me up: “Congratulations, you finally got your wish of being an only child.”

desert ghosts by river_soul (1k) They’re not “almost home” because they’re together therefore already home asdfkdjfkdjfd. Gorgeously wrought.

You Hit Me Once (kiss with a fist) by aohatsu (3k) I could read pre-canon John/Sam fics at a rate of 100k a day probs. God these kids are so lonely and nobody else understands. John getting into schoolyard brawls to defend Sam’s honor? Habitual bedsharing???!

I Wanna Kiss You (but i want it too much) by Mercury32 (<1k) It’s not a missing moment from canon, exactly—it’s a replay of the scene where the squad meets Sam, only the camera is firmly situated inside John’s head this time. “His fingers are twitching with the need to hold her, to see if the curve of her hip still fits into the palm of his hand, if her forehead still tucks perfectly into his neck. Like a jigsaw puzzle, she'd observed once, made to fit together.”

No Relation by aj2245 (<400 words) I mean the “surprise! they’re not related” reveal came outta nowhere but it was worth it just for this line: “Life on Mars is fragile. The three coffins waiting in the Ark anti-chamber speak to that. One little mistake and she's lost everything. She's lost John, it's just on time delay.”

In the Blood and the Bone by kyrene (10k) Pwp where John and Sam try to get pregnant. It wasn’t my thing but it’s the top-bookmarked fic in the tag, so other people must’ve liked it, and I always try to assume other people are acting rationally so there must be something this fic does well that I’m missing because I don’t care about that facet that much.

**This is not an exhaustive list of John/Sam fics, just a list of the ones I had anything coherent to say about. I do not think there is a single bad fic in the tag and they’re all bite-sized and bingeable!

[scandeniall]

mirrors for friends //ch.5

| prev | next | masterlist

wc: 1741

pairing: TBD x reader

notes *this is the version of the song they cover 

chapter 5: We drive, We Film

The music is blaring when Atsumu pulls up. He's bobbing his head along to the guitar, hardly sparing you a glance as you slide into the passenger seat. Despite that, you offer a quick greeting as the car speeds off before you even finish putting your seatbelt on. You nod along to the familiar song as the two of you shoot through the street, 

“And I don't care if you're sick, I don't care if you're contagious,” you begin Atsumu chiming in matching your pitch.  

“I would kiss you even if you were dead” “Would somebody make me go blind for the rest of my life, cause I’d do anything to hold your hand.” 

You find your hand hanging out the window as you two sing along to the rest of the song. Once it ends, Atsumu lowers the volume, enough to have a conversation. “I see ya changed from a sweaty slob and are now looking better.” You roll your eyes at the bassist, and had he not been driving you probably would’ve resorted to slapping the back of his head. “Why do I willingly hang out with you. And, where are we going anyways?” You question, remembering your promise to Iwaizumi

 You ignore his comment about you clearly not having any other friends as you send a message to Iwaizumi confirming your location. You let out a little laugh at Iwaizumi’s complaint about the blonde always running his plans, before locking your phone. “Who ya texting?” Atsumu takes his first real look at you for the night as he slows at the red light. “Iwa, just telling him if I die tonight it's all your fault.Your driving fucking sucks” You follow up the sentence flicking off your friend who looks unbothered. 

“Speaking of our dear Iwa, you know something that me and Kuroo don't.” Your eyes widen just the tiniest bit as he grants you a knowing smirk. “But I’ll let that go for now. How's the tattoo healing?” Just like that Atsumu’s voice shifts into a more serious tone and you groan loudly. You instantly catch on to the real meaning of the question. How are you doing?  “Not you too”. 

“C’mon, I’m just checking on ya (Y/N). Making sure you’re ok. Took me a minute but then I remembered you showed me the picture a few months ago.” His gaze focuses back on the road giving you at least the relief from his stare down. “First Iwa, now you. And I know Kuroo is gonna pick my brain the second he gets the chance,” your words come out in a huff of annoyance. “What can we say, we care about ya. The band would flop without our front man.” His tease is enough to lighten the tension that began to grow as you rolled your eyes again. “Our combined hotness would drop by like 90% without me.” 

“More like 5%” He could only laugh as you promptly told him to go to hell, as you turned the music back up some. The rest of the drive was void of any conversation. The only noises coming from the radio and any time either of you would sing along to what was playing out. Atsumu would only shoot you annoyed looks, whenever you’d skip one of the songs he had to which you'd just shrug without a care.  

“Hey Samu.” You and Atsumu spoke at the same time as you slid into the booth. “What are you two sharing a single brain cell now?” Your look of disgust is enough to cause the gray haired twin to laugh. “The only thing I’d ever share with Atsumu is my foot up his ass.” 

“That’s a real cute way of saying you’re the dumb one of us.” The blonde catches the wrist of your arm that aims a punch at his shoulder easily. “Take you and your shitty dye job over there next to your brother,” you mutter pushing your bandmate out of the booth next to you. He obliges, moving so that him and Osamu are both sitting across from you. 

“Now Tsumu’s stupidity is gonna seep into my head.”

 ---- 

“Hello boys, and piss head,” you greet cheerily as you enter the unlocked door of Iwaizumi’s place. You shift the drink carrier in your hand as you remove your bag, lightly placing it on the floor. The owner only raises his eyebrows at you while your guitarist just laughs.”What’d he do now,” You make your rounds handing off the coffee drinks you’d bought for your bandmates. You stop by Iwaizumi first who accepts it with a grateful smile. Next is Kuroo, who raises the cup in thanks. “Every time I hang out with him, I wonder why I do. He sucks,” you speak before handing Atsumu his drink. “Osamu really is the better twin, not by much though.” 

“You claim to hate me, yet you bring me food. Thanks mom,” the bassist mocks. You mutter something about it being the only thing that gets him to shut up before shifting your attention towards Kuroo. “Hey, can you go get our instruments, couldn’t hold them cause of the drinks.” He only nods, you asking him to please lock your door after. 

“We’re filming that song today right?” You nod at Atsumu’s question. While he goes back to typing away on his phone you settle onto the couch next to Iwaizumi. He looks at you and you raise your eyebrows in excitement. He shoots you a small smile and a thumbs up, and you struggle to contain your excitement. You shoot him a knowing look that the two of you have to talk later as Kuroo enters carrying both your guitar cases. “Bring my drink down would you,” is the only thing he says before making his way towards the basement. The three of you wordlessly follow.  

“Why are we doing this song again,”

“Come on old man, it’ll be fun, plus our dear (Y/N) gets to show off that growl today. Doesn't happen very much,” Kuroo smirks at Iwaizumi, shooting you a quick look from where you are tuning your guitar. “Plus, the viewers wanted us to do Gaga.” 

“Oh, you're just happy ya get to be heard more with this song,” Atsumu chimes in before fiddling with his bass. “Maybe,” is Kuroos response as he sits on a stool to tune his own instrument. “Besides, Judas is a pretty badass song. And our arrangement is pretty sick.” Iwaizumi can’t help but agree with you, opting to get the video equipment set up. After he finished you all ran through the song a few times before you were ready to go.  

“Hey guys, we’re Mirrors For Friends,” the four of you said in unison. Before introducing yourselves as individuals. “So, you guys asked, and we answered. You all wanted us to do Lady Gaga so bad,” Kuroo started before pausing for his self-proclaimed dramatic effect. “So, Judas here we are.”

 ----

 “Judas- Gaga” You practically screamed out the last words of the songs, before bursting out into laughter. The entirety of the song both Kuroo and Atsumu were making ridiculous facial expressions at one another, and with you being in the middle of the two, you saw it all. That, paired with post singing adrenaline and the fact that you all were even singing it in the first place seemed absolutely comical You had been so caught in laughter that you didn’t even notice Iwaizumi come up from behind his drums to nudge at camera perched on the tripod in front of you. 

“Fuck- do you guys see what I have to go through with these guys. Iwa is the only normal one,” you joked out after your laughter died down. You ignored the said members exclamations about not being that bad. “Alright that's it for us today, we hope you enjoyed, and we’ll see you when we see you.” You stuck up a peace sign heading towards the camera and picking it up. “Say bye you idiots.  

You first pointed the camera at Kuroo who was the closest to you. “I feel like (Y/N) is catching my double chin at this angle. Stream our songs and we love you.” With that Kuroo just walked off the frame, and you turned towards Atsumu. “Say bye to the video fake blondie.” 

“I just want to say that I’m the hottest member of the band and-hey” Atsumu exclaimed as you just cut his segment short, before walking to Iwaizumi.  

“You know the drill Iwa. Your turn” This time you moved the camera up and down as if you were giving the audience a chance to check him out. “Now this is the real hottest member of this band,” you teased before aimling back towards his face. You stifled your laugh at Atsumu and Kuroo in the background yelling for him to take his shirt off. “I hate this band. See you all in the next video.” With your drummers closing you stopped the recording before letting out a sigh of relief.  

“Well that was exhausting,” you automatically made your way to the couch where you had your laptop resting. “I can probably get this edited and uploaded by tomorrow guys.” You felt the couch dip next to you and the voice of the band’s guitarist. “I can do it. I know it's been an interesting week for you,” he gestures towards your ribcage, where your new tattoo rests under your tshirt. The tone of his voice lets you know there’s no point in countering. When Iwaizumi gets into his band labeled ‘dad’ mode, you won't win. “You're acting as if I have a choice,” you huff handing him the camera’s memory card.  

“Shit- guys, I gotta go. I forgot the team got a last-minute practice match with another school,” Atsumu’s panicked voice cut through the room. “Were done here right?” He looked between the three of you sighing in relief as he quickly started putting up his instrument. “Hey, don’t forget next week we’re at Bauhaus.” He only nodded mindlessly, before making his way to the stairs, before stopping halfway. “That's the 3rd, right?” 

Kuroo’s thumbs out caused him to practically run up the stairs and out the door. Once the bassist leaves, he plopped himself next to you on the other side of the couch. “So lovely band members of mine, what secret are you two keeping from me and Tsumu.”

⤿taglist: @o51oc​ @suna-allie​

a/n: yall know that one tiktok audio from what bgc? wheres like awkwardly quiet then its like “hey guys”--- thats how I feel after coming back to this fic after a month. But yeah life and then more LIFE. So with that, sorry this chapter is kinda awkward writing bc i literally havent written for this in that month at all. Anyways, now that we’ve gotten our band dynamics established we are kicking off the real plot starting next chapter. I still don’t know which boy to do so pls help a loser out. I think I’m gonna take out the possibility of Iwa though ????

[ao3theskyisblue]

(Stay) I Need You More Than You Think

Big thank you to @summerfiing for the prompt for this post 😊 I hope you enjoy reading it 🤗

Hopefully this shows up in the tags lmao

Summary: Some days are harder than others.

The life of a first responder never gets easier, and Carlos experiences one of those days.

Click here to read on AO3, the fic is also under the break 😊

There were days that, when the sun showcased its brilliant glow beyond the horizon, Carlos woke up in tune to the new day, the sunlight offering an ethereal glow as the warmth kissed his skin. The comforter would be soft and pliant underneath his fingertips, flowing with the movement as he pushed it aside to sit up.

Spotlights would be created by the shining beams of light, waiting up with him calmly for the alarm to sound, which he would then turn off with the quick press of a button. The floorboards would mold to the shape of his bare feet, allowing him to soundlessly glide to the bathroom to clean up. The kitchen would then welcome him in, sunlight peeking through the gap between the curtains, enticing him towards the coffee machine. He would operate it effortlessly to produce a hot drink that would truly start to wake him up as he made breakfast to get the energy he needed to start his shift.

Even so, days that started with a simple rising of the sun, sometimes didn’t end with the moon graciously offering its light to allow the sun to cast their vivid rays across the other half of the Earth.

Instead of bathing the world with warmth, clouds would populate the sky to present a new dawn, one that did not allude a welcoming atmosphere.

His keys scraped against the lock, the object stubbornly refusing to slide into the allotted space smoothly, instead deciding to give Carlos a hard-felt battle of resistance as he tried, for the fifth time, to unlock his own damn door.

He then proceeded to trip over his own entranceway, feet getting caught in absolutely nothing causing him to grab at the wall to steady himself with a muffled curse. He didn’t really need any light to see where he was going – knowing the layout of his apartment like the back of his hand – but he still fumbled to find a light switch that seemed to have moved from its usual position on the wall.

The room was freezing, floorboards sending chills through the soles of his feet causing him to shiver. Forgoing trying to find the light switch, his gaze wandered to the kitchen that was too quiet, almost seeming to be taunting him about his lack of appetite. There was a haunting chill in the hallway leading to the bedroom, and Carlos barely registered the creaking of the floorboards underneath his weight as he carelessly climbed into bed. The comforter was cold to the touch, feeling heavy in his hands as he worked to climb underneath it, the weight encasing his body in a false sense of security. Closing his eyes, arms curling around himself to provide a warmth that didn’t exist, Carlos willed his body to succumb to a world where darkness fed on the deepest recesses of his mind.

Death had taken a little girl today.

He had stood on the sidelines, eyes watching a scene his brain had not caught up to, his senses too slow to respond – standing too far to respond – as an AC unit came toppling down and crushing the girl underneath it. The mother’s screams were a shrilling sound that couldn’t seem to stop echoing in his mind.

Carlos had been in that apartment, had been the one to answer to a complaint about a neighbour that just would not comply with safe placements of household appliances. And even through his many warnings, along with the many others from officers responding to the same complaint on different days, today was the one in a million where something went wrong.

And he couldn’t do anything.

The man had immediately been arrested, this time the police needing no more reason to slap on handcuffs that should have been on those wrists since the first complaint. The scene left a bitter taste on his tongue, as he had watched the man’s head being shoved into the back of a squad car.

Out of everything, it had taken a little girl’s life to cause enough reason for the punishment of an action that shouldn’t have happened in the first place. The man would be getting time in prison, while an innocent child would never again see the light of dawn announcing a new day.

Weighed down by dread, his limbs cried the tears he couldn’t as he lifted the comforter tighter around him, burrowing his nose into the pillow to seek for any source of warmth. There was no clock in the bedroom scarce his phone, thankfully leaving him devoid of its rhythmic ticking.

The rest of Carlos’ shift had gone by in a blur, the flashback of the tiny body being covered by a white sheet in stark contrast with the blood pooling on the pavement making his gut twist painfully. His partner had also been unnaturally quiet, not picking up the usual banter the two often shared between calls.

Carlos’s entire body felt like lead lying on the same sheets that had felt so warm just that morning, now turned frigid as if mourning with him about another life he could not save. Time was merciless – passing by in a manner that he could not quantify, not knowing whether he’d been lying in an exhaustedly restless state for minutes, or maybe hours.

Head swimming with images that only spread further anguish through his veins, Carlos knew that sleep would not come easy tonight. The life of a first responder never gets any easier, and there were some days that caused a sleepless repose in the sheets, physically at rest but mentally in pain. Tomorrow would be a new day, and Carlos would just have to accept the newly added weight on his shoulders and acknowledge that time does not stop to grant healing for the scalding ail of grief.  

Through the muffled pieces of the world Carlos could vaguely make out in the dim lighting of his bedroom, his fingers suddenly twitched in apprehension when rustling noises sounded from his living room.

There were only a handful of people that had the key to his place, and only one who could have heard about what happened and would be paying him a visit.

His body a mere dead weight, Carlos forced himself to roll out of his comforter cocoon that depicted only an illusion of console, feet padding against cold floorboards once more to head towards the living room. Unlike when he first came in, the lights were on, and a familiar figure lifted his gaze from where he had been staring down two mugs of…something, to offer him a small smile.  

“Hey.” TK said softly, his voice quiet, but a welcome sound penetrating through the silence Carlos had secluded himself in. The firefighter made his way to him slowly, hands twitching as if wanting to reach out, but held back at the last second.

“I made some tea. Lemon balm. Would you like a cup?” TK asked, eyes gentle and devoid of judgment at Carlos’ rumpled nature. His hair had to be sticking in every direction from him not bothering to fix it when rolling out of bed, but TK didn’t seem the least bit fazed.

Looking at the openness to his expression, his green eyes staring at him unblinkingly - patiently awaiting his next move, Carlos felt his throat closing at the wave of emotion hitting him at full swing.

Oh.

“Yeah. Tea sounds...sounds good.” It goes to show how out of it he really is when Carlos didn’t even recognize the sound of his own voice. Wincing at how small and shallow it sounded, Carlos opened his mouth to apologize, explain, say something, but TK only gave him a comforting nod and gestured to the couch.

“I’ll bring it over – you go and make yourself comfortable.”

Carlos’ legs worked on autopilot after that, dragging the rest of his body towards the couch. He sank into the soft cushions, shoulders hunching at the invisible weight he didn’t bother to hide now, and that had already piled on without him knowing.

A whiff of something tangy invaded his senses, and Carlos looked up to see TK standing in front of him holding out his favourite mug, labelled ‘eat more hole foods’ with a picture of a donut that had been a gift from Michelle the day he came out to her. The mug pulled out a hint of a smile at the memory, before it faded.

Accepting the hot drink that still had steam rising with the unmistakable scent of lemons, Carlos pressed the palms of his hands against the heat protruding through the porcelain. He didn’t bother removing his hands when the heat started to burn, giving him a welcome tether to the real world.

“It’s my mother’s favourite, the tea. She was always drinking loads of the stuff, claiming it gave her a sense of peace after hours in the courtroom.” TK spoke quietly, and Carlos vaguely registered him taking a seat on the coffee table in front of him, their knees just shy of brushing against one another.

Carlos raised the mug to his lips, carefully taking a small sip. He was immediately greeted with a sharp tang of bitterness, a taste that wasn’t normally accustomed to this type of tea. He couldn’t hold back a wince, nose scrunching up at the bitter taste that slowly faded away after he swallowed, leaving him to stare at the mug in bewilderment. A light titter of laughter ringed in his ears, and Carlos looked up to see TK watching him fondly.

“I may have steeped it a little longer than necessary to give it a kick. Did it work?” TK smiled, lifting his own mug to take a sip of his own cup of tea. Carlos had half a mind to wonder why TK hadn’t recoiled at the taste like he did, and was about to ask, ‘did what work?’ but the words got caught in his throat.

The ache in his chest from earlier, had receded into a dull throb. Blinking away the mist that clouded his gaze, Carlos lifted his mug again, taking a longer sip - this time welcoming the sharp bitterness on his tongue.

The glow from the lights TK had decided to turn on cast a comforting shadow around them, encasing them in a secure bubble of space filled with two mugs of relaxing tea – and one heart carefully cradling another.

The onslaught of feelings he had pushed to the side from earlier cascaded out in a trickle, starting with a stray tear slipping down Carlos’ cheeks. He reached out his fingers to brush against TK’s arm carefully, unsure whether his touch was warranted. Without missing a second, TK placed both their mugs off to the side, getting up from the coffee table to step into Carlos’ arms.

Carlos didn’t waste any more time in wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist, burrowing his face into the soft fabric of TK’s shirt near his stomach. His legs widened their stance to fit TK in between them, his arms tightening around the solid warmth. Carlos shivered as fingers gently sifted through the soft hairs at the nape of his neck, feeling a hand splayed on the muscles of his back, thumb moving in slow circles in an offer of silent solace.

They stayed there, in the built comfort of the living room for a long time. TK hadn’t so much as mentioned why he had decided to come over, solely content in giving what Carlos was willing to take, and never once questioned why.

Slowly but surely, the ice began to thaw in his chest. The living room no longer felt absent and cold, the floorboards turning palpable and grounding, the soft material of the shirt he had buried his face in soaking up his tears in a gentle caress.

Carlos tipped his head up, red-rimmed eyes meeting TK’s gentle ones, sighing softly as the hand that had been running continually through his hair moved to cradle his face, the thumb running along the ridge just underneath his left eye. Carlos leaned into the touch.

“Will you stay?” Carlos whispered hoarsely, hesitantly, giving TK an out if he didn’t want to. It was a little silly, having these kinds of thoughts now. But the day’s events were still raw, and if TK had better things to do than stay with his bleak stature, Carlos would never blame him.

Seeming to understand where his thoughts were going, TK leaned down to press their foreheads together, green eyes filled with nothing but affection as they bore into brown orbs that had lost their usual light.

“Always, Carlos.” TK murmured. Carlos closed his eyes, relishing in the small spark of warmth starting to build in his chest at the words.

“Always.”

[slasherkisss]

sent the last 23 :) I'd just like an nsfw Evan MacMillan lil fic followed by some fluff if that works with you! (non-binary reader if possible too pls ;0; )

[You are an ANGEL and I would die for you. Thank-You so much for your support, I hope I did your request justice

EVAN MACMILLAN SMUT

Your breath came in quick, ragged gasps as his hands trailed down your body. They were calloused and warm, skin thick with years of making and testing traps. Traps that you had fallen into so many times. It was a sort of flirtation for you at this point. A gentle nudge towards him as you feigned worry against the pain of having your leg consumed in one of his bear traps. As you acted surprised when he would wrench the traps from your legs and gather you up, a prize to take home for himself instead of the entity. 

Other survivors were confused when you disappeared with him. It was none of their business.

It didn’t matter how you got here, though, you decided as his lips found your navel. He kissed your stomach, teeth biting down greedily on the flesh, making you shudder and buck your body at him, moaning desperately as you tried to get your feet to touch the floor. Your toes just brushed against the rotting wood of the ground, the secure leather ties that held your arms above your head prevent any further stretch down to the secure ground. You were suspended. Vulnerable.

His.

He sucked his marks into you with desperate growls, the only sound he ever seemed to make during moments like these unless he was commanding you to sit still. To stop squirming. To be good and maybe, just maybe, he might reward you with what he knows you wanted.

When he sucked hard enough to draw blood from a point against your rib cage, he removed his mouth. The liquid of your body glimmered off of his lips like a terrifying masquerade. Without his actual mask, his face was still expressionless. Hard in the moonlight as he quirked his head to admire your form, writhing and panting for him like a worm on a fishhook. 

A hand found your face, rubbing your cheek affectionately before delivering a harsh slap to the tender flesh, making you moan as you bit your lip, tasting your own blood fall from between your teeth. Watery eyes held his gaze, strong and fierce as he gripped your hair and tilted your head back to reveal your neck to him. To give him the view of the already bruised, mark stained surface with which he labeled you as his and his alone.

“What do you want?” His question was a demand that you speak your mind, or you would get nothing.

“Y-You,” You gasped out through your pleasure, legs twisting and bucking to get at his body with your own, “P-Please, Sir…I want your cock inside of me.”

Your dirty words and final thrust to wrap your legs around his own was enough to spur him forward. He crashed his mouth onto yours as his hands found your hips, pulling you forward so that your body slotted against him. So that he slid into you with one swift movement, steadying you once he was at the hilt and, oh god, you were so full. So warm. So amazingly sweet that you could see stars in the back of your vision and taste the flavor of the universe, blood and whipped cream against a honeyed background. Your tied hands clenched into fists, knuckles white as his breathy moans rumbled into your neck and he kissed your collar bone lovingly before letting his tongue wander on the expanse of your bare flesh. 

When he moved his hips were a piston. Evan filled every inch of you in the expert way that only he knew how to. His hands held you with steady grip, never once trembling. Never once wavering. You could do nothing but moan in his arms, helpless and pleasured at his whim. You were, after all, his toy. His favorite little test subject for all of his traps. His favorite survivor. The only one he would dare do this with and, god, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

“Y/N....”

His name fell from his mouth as it always did when he was about to come, his cock throbbing warm in your body. Your legs wrapped around him and a hand returned to the front of your lower half to pleasure you further, a permission to come lathing itself on his voice as he growled into his own chased orgasm.

You came together, his seed spilling into you and leaking down your ass. His teeth eating at your shoulder, sinking bites into you to mark you as his fully one more time. You carried more than one scar from these fucks. You only wish you had more.

He pulled out of you, satisfied. The sound of leather straps coming undone echoed and then you were down in his arms, limp and content as he brushed some hair from your forehead with a sigh.

“...You’re mine.” He murmured.

“I know.”

You wouldn’t have it any other way.