#or better yet--turn off nameplates???

[greyias]

unless it's players in swtor who have named their toons after Star Wars characters in varying degrees of butchery

then I cringe myself inside out

Kilo Kylo Kaylo

Ray Rhey Rey

Skywalker Sky'Walker Sky-Walker

I think you missed the memo. Cringe culture is dead. If its zombie corpse is somehow turning you inside out, you should probably get that looked at.

An additional, controversial statement: Let people have fun. Even if it doesn't conform to your idea of fun or cool.

Also I have no idea why you sent me this ask????

[randomfoggytiger]

Collector's Edition: Unseasoned Agents-- Early Love and Miraculous Do-Overs

(Dedicated to @doctor-caparty~)

Season 1 Mulder and Scully meet, fall in love, partner, marry, or parent in a variety of different ways, be it close enough to fudge canon or far enough to redo it.

Season 1 Canon Divergence

@swinging-stars-from-satellites/bravest_person_in_Wonderland's

never learned to read your mind (Tumblr) and Part 2

She'd said he's the only one she trusts; he wants to trust her, but he can't make sense of her.

"I'm here for you, Mulder, not aliens or conspiracies," she says quietly, her voice steely. "I wouldn't put myself on the line for anyone but you."

He whips around and stares at her in shock. They aren't even partners, and she insists that's how it should be. But he sometimes wonders where they would be if she'd stuck around.

Scully leaves after the events of Deep Throat, drifting back after her father's death before eventually becoming Mulder's go-to pathologist and ride-or-die contact.

Sukie Tawdry's The Way Things Are (1) and The Way Things Are (2)

"You missed a spot," Mulder said, pointing to a smudge of tomato sauce on the back of a dish.

"Thanks." She dunked the dinner plate back into the soapy water. This was truly bizarre--washing up after dinner like an old married couple. If she didn't dwell on the details of an unwilling father, unwed pregnancy and unpleasant abduction, she and Mulder could be almost normal.

Post Miracle Man Scully and Mulder fall into bed together-- against her (and his) better judgment-- after a stressful case; and can't escape the consequences of one inebriated night: namely, an ensuing, accidental pregnancy, Mulder's enemies creating havoc and indecision, and an undeniable romance hurtling at full speed.

@agentwhalesong/sadandangstyagent’s (Ao3) In Vino Veritas

“You don’t fully trust me yet,” she lets out in a low voice.

He seems caught by surprise by her words because he immediately looks back at her.

“Of course I do.”

"Prove it, then," she dares, although smiling a little.

“Just tell me how.”

S1 Mulder and Scully celebrate her birthday after another monster case; and uncover a few things about each other during a light-hearted game of 'Two Truths'.

herewebloodygo's making this off(ish)icial

Mulder was excited.

         Too excited. It was starting to worry Scully, that expression of his: the slightly too-wide grin, teetering on the verge of goofy, tongue tucked in the corner of his cheek. She didn’t let her eyes trace that smile further. Not when it meant dealing with Fox Mulder’s dimples. That, she’d learned the hard way, was a post-ten o’clock job. In a pinch, post-caffeine at the very least.

S1 Mulder surprises Scully with an office nameplate; and she surprises him by acting on her feelings.

IStanYouStan5676's Hungry

“Anything I want?” He responds immediately with an adorable smile.

“Within reason,” she teases and she sees a hint of surprise and embarrassment flash across his face.

“Lasagna.”

She cocks her head slightly.

“That was fast.”

“It was my favorite comfort food when I was a kid.” He shrugs.

S1 Scully surprises Mulder with two facts: that she can cook, and that she is inviting him to prove it.

SailorStarDust1 's Hear The Rain Fall

After a moment passed, she spoke in a muffled daze, “I don't know why I did that.” He startled at her being awake, but she turned slightly so he could notice her smile. “But...I like you, too.”

Long car rides, late nights, and a tired post Beyond the Sea Scully lead to broken down barriers, late night confessions, and more.

Season 1 AUs

Jessica Zyvarek Taylor's Waitress

"Are you still open?" He looked as if he was having the worst day of his life. And he was cute. Even if he had a girlfriend.

Pre-S1 parttime waitress Scully briefly meets Mulder while he is still in the clutches of one Phoebe Green.

@frangipanidownunder/Frangipanidownunder's A Different Kind of Pilot

“Excuse me,” the woman snaps. Scully stops. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there,” she says and looks beyond the glare of the agent, one Diana Fowley, according to her name badge, to see Fox Mulder skulking away, jacket over his shoulder, head down.

Pre-S1 Scully is investigating a virus strain uncovered by the X-Files team, disliking Diana and connecting with a discouraged Mulder.

Donna/donnah’s (Gossamer, mulderscreek) Short Encounters (Ao3)

They had spotted him and as always gave him as much space as possible, which meant nearly crushing the little redhead. He saw that and reached for her, moving in her direction. Might as well use his pariah status to protect her. She realized what he had done, even if she didn't understand it, and thanked him with her eyes. He nodded slightly, and a little stiffly. The elevator was unnaturally quiet, but it often was when he took it.

Pre-S1 Mulder and pathologist Scully meet after her detailed work helped break a case.

@thatgirlxf/Thatgirlxf's A Rebound Date (Tumblr)

Scully was just thinking that maybe it’s time for them to have talk and reevaluate their relationship. She is hoping Jack will show up soon as she didn’t have much time left of her lunch hour for she was due back at Quantico for an autopsy at one.

Pre-S1 Scully meets Mulder properly sometime after accidentally spilling coffee on him.

Trixie's (whispersofx, alt. whispersofx) Quissi

Containing a chuckle at the image, Mulder pulled his lower lip between his teeth, debating how much to tell her. “I’m just doing a little investigating independent of the Bureau,” he hedged, going for a half-truth....

Are we soul mates, or two people who just happen to have an above-average working relationship?

“And of me?” she countered, and he could =see= the raised eyebrow.

“Scully, you wound me. It’s not like that at all. If I didn’t want you to know about it, would I be talking to you right now?”

“Yes,” she answered, without missing a beat.

S1? Mulder and Scully work through the trauma caused by her ex-husband Jack Willis (along with her infertility and the responsibility and adoption of Willis's affair child.)

CaptainLyssa's To FBI or Not To FBI

“You own this place,” Scully stated, safe in the sudden knowledge.

Turning his back on the blond behind the bar, he requested, “Shh, don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret,” before suddenly asking, “did you drive here, Dr Scully?”

“It’s just Scully, Fox,” she tested his Christian name. It sounded…wrong somehow. In her mind Dana couldn’t get passed calling him Mulder.

“It’s just Mulder, Scully,” he returned....

Pre-S1 Scully, too short to qualify for the FBI, became an overworked ER doctor... and meets Mulder while they're both commiserating over their jobs. From a first meet at his establishment, they fall into an incredibly fast relationship that gets caught up with Melissa's sixth sense, Mulder's hospitalization, Diana's suspicious return, and Scully's unexpected pregnancy (that may or may not have to do with Mulder's mytharc genes.)

Erin M. Blair's (Ao3)

Key to My Heart

The day arrived when Mulder and Scully came to a final truth. They decided to exchange keys to their respective apartments.

S1 Mulder and Scully swap apartment keys... and more.

Trilogy 01 - The Meeting, Trilogy 02 - The Engagement, Trilogy 03 - The Announcement, Where's Mommy?, How's Katherine?, Tell Me A Story, Positively Yours, and Discovery Of A New Hope

"My brother is visiting, and he wants to meet you," Samantha replied. "Tonight."

"Really?"

"Right now, he works in the FBI but it's been slow lately," Samantha replied.

"Where at?"

"My mother's," Samantha answered.

Although Pre-S1 Scully and Mulder meet through Samantha, she is still assigned. and they still spend the next six years or so juggling an impending marriage, a growing family, a Duane Barry abduction and return, a Fight the Future adventure, and more.

Newfound Love

Samantha looked at her brother and threw herself at him in a trembling hug. "I lost her, Fox. I lost Dana." She paused. "First, I've lost you for most of my life and now I lost her. They are trying to..."0

S2 Samantha and Scully work on the files find Mulder-- who'd been abducted as a boy-- right under their noses. Or, more accurately, Mulder found them.

@mulders-boyish-enthousiasm's (Ao3)

Fox Next Door and Pool time

‘Okay… Mulder. Call me Scully, then,’ she replied tit for tat. ‘What did you say you needed?’   

‘Oh! Right,’ he tousled his hair with his fingers and put his hands in his pockets. ‘Could I borrow some butter please?’ Mulder with a slight hesitation.

She blinked twice and let him in.

Pre-S1 Mulder is Scully's new neighbor, charming his way into her heart by borrowing her butter and scaring her late at night.

JenAndrews's Skyland Mountain (AU)

They lay there in silence for some time. Scully closed her eyes, waiting patiently for her baby to let her know he or she was alright. Mulder stared up at the sky, watching the leaves of the trees sway above him. There were more clouds now then there had been this morning, but the sky was still blue. The sunlight danced through the branches and across his face. The sound of Scully’s breathing, the wind and the birds allowed him to drift away from his body and his pain. The only anchor stopping him from flying away was Scully’s fingers wrapped around him.

S2 Mulder, adrift and hopeless, turns to drugs as a self-destructive coping mechanism...but accidentally runs a very pregnant Scully off the road during his suicide attempt.

@wexleresque/hellsteeth's lost time (Tumblr)

Her hair is redder, vividly so against the chalky pallor of her face, the angles of which are sharper than they had been just yesterday. There are lines where there hadn’t been. Not many, but enough to draw her attention. She looks older.

Turning to Mulder, she sees her own shock and confusion reflected in his expression. Whatever she was going to say dies on her lips as she looks at him more closely.

It’s definitely Mulder, there is no denying it. She’s known him for only a handful of days, but the glint in his eye is unquestionably him. But gone is the springy lock of hair that has been flopping against his forehead for two days and the lankiness she’s come to associate with him invading her space to intimidate her.

Requiem Mulder and Scully return from Bellefleur with amnesia, consequently losing memories of the last seven years. While relearning their professional history from Skinner and her mother-- and, most importantly, the files-- the truth of their personal relationship (and her pregnancy) begins to become undeniable.

@ghostbustermelanieking/skuls's

AU where on a drunken night after a stressful case in season 1, M and S end up having sex and Scully gets pregnant.

He rubs a hand over his face, overwhelmed. "I just... I never expected this. I was always afraid that... if I ever had a kid... it'd just be something else they could use against me." Scully does stand now, so calm it almost scares her. She says, "You don't have to be involved, Mulder. I mean that genuinely. We don't work together anymore, this isn't your life..." She can't say she wouldn't miss him, ridiculously so, but she also can't say that she WOULD miss him out loud. "You can walk away," she adds. "I promise I won't hold it against you." He shakes his head so immediately it surprises her, if only because of the shocked, uncertain look on his face. "Or you can stay involved." She extends her hand, takes his and squeezes it. "Think about it, okay?" she offers. "Take some time."

Post Lazarus Mulder and Scully fall into an unspecified relationship... which Little Green Men Mulder and Scully have to confront when she finds out she's pregnant.

in another world - Chapter 22

it happens in vegas, of course, and it happens because of langly and melissa. mulder’s on a trip with the gunmen, following up on some tip they’d gotten, and melissa and dana are on a vacation together. it’s directly following mulder’s breakup with diana, and he’s been moping around the hotel room the entire time; dana is in the midst of stressing over a big test for medical school, and has refused to leave the hotel room so that she can study to the point of driving melissa crazy.

Mulder and Scully meet, marry, and annul in Vegas before they're partnered.

Half-Light Universe

2016

It’s not a question at this point of how many times this has happened, but a question of “is this the time that will do it”. Mulder could try and romanticize it, but there’s nothing there to romanticize. He holds Scully as she bleeds out. And then he’s shot in the back.

Revival Mulder and Scully are shot, snapped out of their hellish universe, being handed a second chance to get their lives right. The mytharc unfolds more reasonably, with the truth coming to light and Samantha making her way home-- hope, healing, and second chances for all.

Five Moments Mulder and Scully Shared (And One They Didn't) (Tumblr)

“Who needs a bed? I think the couch serves our needs perfectly fine.”

“Mulder, I'm not having this argument again. Two full grown adults cannot sleep on a couch every night.”

“Hmph.” He crosses his arms stubbornly. “I say we wait for a water bed to mysteriously appear again.”

“Mulder…”

half-light Mulder and Scully sharing moments in their new life.

miraculous (Tumblr)

When it's over, she knows. More sure than she was before. She hears the earsplitting cry, and she just knows. The doctor holds him up and it's him. Her son.

half-light Mulder and Scully are reunited with their son in a better life, a better world.

luminosity (Tumblr)

She tucks William in, reads two books and kisses him goodnight, leaves the door cracked just like always. She finds Mulder in the kitchen, strangling a Walgreens bag in his hand. “I got it,” he says abruptly, shoving it at Scully.

“Thank you.” She takes the bag and sets it on the counter. “It's okay, Mulder, really,” she says soothingly, putting a hand on his jaw.

“Are you sure?” He's apprehensive, practically bouncing.

“I'm not, but we'll know in a few minutes.” She motions to the bag on the counter. “And besides that, this feels different than when I was sick. It feels the same as it was with William.”

half-light Mulder and Scully are excited for another little miracle.

@defnotmeyo’s (Ao3) Unnamed

She can laugh at him but these punks? One more concentrated burst of laughter and hiding their faces behind their hands and she is going to put them over the bar.

Mulder and Scully overhear two people laughing over his theories... two people who turn out to be the married version of themselves.

HumphreyWrites/sure-fine-skullz/spookysadsophie/s-humphrey/sophie-writes-things/sophiewrites/SophieRobbins’s (Alt. Tumblr) Losing Nine Minutes

“We lost nine minutes, Scully!”

Scully?

She furrowed a brow in confusion and looked down at herself. She was no longer pregnant, in a strange car, and on a strange stretch of highway.

What on earth was happening?

The last thing she remembered was going to sleep with her husband and Emily sandwiched between them because she had a night terror. Fox looked confused, as she studied herself in the car mirror.

Mulder and Scully experience alternate universe versions of each other, briefly; then take their relationship to the next level when reunited (aided by the fact he got her pregnant.)

Neoxphile's (Ao3, mulderscreek) and FelineFemme's Family G-Man, The - Season 01

Instead of answering him right away, the woman reached into her coat and pulled out an envelope. Just an ordinary green one that Christmas cards came in. She thrust it into his hand.

"Here. If you really think you can help them by changing those things about their pasts, open this card when you get home, and read it. As soon as you do you'll get the chance to help them."

Mulder time travels to Season 1, working towards a happier life for Scully: a stable relationship, a family, and no abductions-- though, of course, not without new hiccups or dangers occurring along the way. (The rest of the series can be found located on both authors' pages.)

cgb's Unfamiliar (Jump to the Left Remix)

My name is Fox Mulder, I am thirty-six years old, my sister's name is Samantha, my mother's name is Teena and my father's name is Bill. I live at 2790 Vine Street, Chilmarc, Massattuchetts...

Something isn't right. There's something he's supposed to remember.

He starts again. Fox Mulder starts again:

My name is Fox Mulder, I am thirty-six years old, my sister's name is Samantha, my mother's name is Teena and my father's name is Bill...

His father's name is Bill. That was it. They told him his father wasn't his father.

Mulder is a hybrid on the run; and Scully is an innocent target the Consortium exploits for his destruction.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[soulnottainted]

New Hire

Kelsey Anderson, childhood friend to Vanessa, goes in an unemployment office for some counseling. She doesn't expect to reunite with an old friend and soon become a part of his operation. (non-romantic)

I haven't written a drabble in like two years, but I'm finally not burnt out to write one so HERE! Safe to rb!

"Kelsey Anderson?" the intercom came on, the voice of a woman speaking from the reception desk, reading off the name for the first and last time.

Miss Anderson stood up, trying to hide her nerves and disheveled emotions internally. She wore her most business-attire fitting outfit in her wardrobe, a white blouse paired with a thin maroon cardigan. In the outfit, she looked older than she really was, the young age of her early twenties.

Carefully her small hands removed the headphones off her one ear; she only had half on in preparation to her name being called. David Bowie's Reality became faint and muffled before her fingers found the power button on her portable CD player, the vocals "Never look over reality's shoulder" finishing before it silenced with a click.

At the reception desk, the lady who had said her name politely but clearly uninterested and disassociating, stated to go to the door to the right, and that her counselor was Mr. Steve Raglan.

A pit formed in her stomach. It wasn't that she wasn't grateful for a counselor for help, it was that Kelsey felt utterly useless. She did everything she was supposed to, being an almost grade A student throughout her entire school career, even in college, and yet when it came to finding a job in her field, it all hit dead ends. It didn't help also that any jobs were customer service in places Kelsey had no passion of being in. Having sensory and traumatic issues, it was a difficult task to even enjoy her work, becoming a soulless zombie.

And when she told her parents she were to quit, after having a new job every year for the past four years, this was how she ended up in the unemployment office, feeling like an absolute failure.

"Thank you," Kelsey replied quietly, heart thudding in her chest as she made her way towards the door that would send her back to the counselors' offices. Whilst walking, she placed her CD player and headphones in her star shaped crossbody purse that displayed many pins of various interests. Her parents wanted her to bring a normal purse, but despite wanting to be professional, she wanted to be herself too. Then, after going down the hall, she took a right at the very end, the nameplate she was looking for next to the appropriate door.

Standing there for a moment, the young woman's breath became ragged, her anxieties and pressure on her shoulders getting the better of her, besides the thoughts in her head thinking about how this career counselor would judge her. She'd have to talk about herself and talk about how she truly wanted to work but there were many inside and outside factors that kept her from being successful. That morning, Kelsey even tried to rehearse certain scenarios for certain questions, just in case she'd have a mind blank.

The appointment was now. She had to knock on the door, open it, and the appointment would start. A part of her wanted nothing more than to turn and walk out of there, but she had to keep going. Courage, dear heart...

She knocked unsure but firmly on the door a couple times before a male voice answered with just enough chipper attitude that Kelsey thought it was fake, "Come in!"

Fingers grasped the cold metal door handle before pressing down, unlocking and opening the door to the room. Just taking a step into the room like she was in an episode of the Twilight Zone, going into the mouth of the void, never to be seen again. Sure this could've been blown out of proportion, but Kelsey's anxiety disorder unfortunately did this for most scenarios, denying taking any medication for it, for fear of retaliation if anyone found out she did, they'd tell her the anxiety disorder was non-existent.

"Good afternoon," the voice said warmly, Kelsey again second guessing if his warmth was true or not, that he put on the same show for 20 other clients he had that day, "Come in, come in, don't be shy, I don't bite."

He sounded familiar, but the name she couldn't place, swearing that she heard that voice as a kid. She wouldn't know, not unless she got a good look Mr. Raglan. But then she did. It didn't take perhaps five seconds for Kelsey to stop in her tracks, standing in the counselor's office like a stone statue with a confused, neutral look on its face.

"Wait....I don't mean to pry and this is gonna sound so stupid if I get this wrong," she started slowly, "But...Mr. Afton, is that you?"

This Mr. Afton she hadn't seen in more than ten years at this point. After there were five missing children tied to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, the place where Kelsey spent most of her time as a child was shut down. Funnily enough, Kelsey was always playing with Mr. Afton's daughter Vanessa, alongside those five missing kids. Over her friendship with Vanessa, Kelsey honestly spent more time with the Afton family than her own, always at the pizzeria, or over at their house for sleepovers. But after the pizzeria shut down, there was an eerie radio silence and cut off communication from both William and his daughter.

As a child, Kelsey never understood. Not much was released to the public either, shrouding the Aftons in mystery. Same thing for Henry Emily and his family, but not as much as the Aftons. Every day Kelsey could walk by the shut down business and the lights would still be on in the evenings despite not being open for almost 20 years. All she could wonder was whether her best childhood friend was okay or not. But seeing Mr. Afton here, William in the flesh, in the strangest place to reunite with him was....something to say the least.

Mr. Raglan's eyes widened at the mention of this other name. The young woman never thought twice of why he changed his name, at least not yet anyway, and he intended to keep it that way. The man paused himself, looking at the girl for a few moments before settling his eyes back down to read her name on her resume. No, it couldn't be! What in the hell kind of coincidence was this?

Settling the file down on his desk with a soft landing after some airtime, the man grinned, genuinely, "Kelsey? Wow, h-hey kiddo, long time no see!"

At the confirmation, the girl's heart thudded but with different reasoning now, excited to see her friend's father for the first time in so long. Her uneasiness turned into a smile right back at him, the grip she had holding the strap to her bag loosened, "Yeah, yeah that's me. How are you, Mr. A-"

"Please, call me Steve," he interrupted abruptly, "William is my middle name." That was a lie, but Kelsey never looked into it.

"Steve," Kelsey corrected as she made her way towards the guest seat across from the desk, "How've you been? How's Vanessa? I thought you two moved or something, never heard from you again."

"Ah," Steve stood up, coming out from around his desk before giving Kelsey a couple pats on the shoulder before giving a slight side hug, "Yeah, it was a whole fiasco when the pizzeria shut down. So much so we did have to move. Still stayed in town, but it was very abrupt. I'm sorry 'Nessa couldn't contact you, it was a rough time for both of us. But she's doing well, I'm proud of her, my little bunny's an officer of the law now."

"What? No shit, that's awesome!" Kelsey grinned at hearing her friend was doing so well, then quickly back-tracked on her swear, "Oop--Sorry."

A slight warm chuckle escaped the six foot tall man, keeping his large hand on her shoulder, "It's alright. Besides we're practically family, aren't we?" A pause. "Well, enough about me, how have you been? Come on, kiddo, sit, let's see what I can do for you. You're in good hands." As he made his round back towards his own seat, he offered her coffee, which Kelsey politely declined as she sat down.

"Well...you can guess how things are going because I'm here," Kelsey noted with a nervous chuckle, going into the worst part of any therapy or counseling, alongside the worst part of job interviews.

"Well besides that," Mr. Afton rolled his eyes with a smile, taking amusement with her comment, opening her file again to peruse the resume, then commented, "You got many awards listed from high school academics, a couple of college scholarships, you graduated with an associates degree a few years ago in art and design. But...I don't see any creative jobs on here, though. Why is that? You clearly have the skills and the credentials you need."

"Yeah well that's where things go down the drain for me," her hands fidgeted in her lap. She wanted to look at Steve, but she didn't have the heart to, "I've applied to numerous jobs based off my major. Nobody wanted me, so I had to take whatever jobs I could get. Whatever I got though, I'd be instantly burned out. I'm just not...built that way."

Honestly her thoughts were just waiting for Steve to talk just as her parents did of her, ready to send her spirit plummeting to the ground, saying that her words were just excuses.

But instead he replied with a slight nod, leaning forward on his elbows, his glasses having a slight glare from the light above. "I see where you're coming from. I mean, when you were small, you always had to have earplugs in or else you'd have a sensory overload. You never really played like a normal kid either. Sure you'd draw with Vanessa and play dolls, but your focus was mostly being on your own. Being around kids being kids for the most part was too much for you, so you'd just stick to standing near the animatronics on stage or if Golden Bonnie was around."

The man smiled when he mentioned Golden Bonnie, as if thinking about an old friend. When Kelsey was little, she would stay beside the character mascot, really thinking of him as a friend. Golden Bonnie in return would make sure she trusted him, almost like a guardian. Sure he'd play around with the other children that wanted his attention, but his eyes always kept watch on the quietest child of all. The little one never figured out that Golden Bonnie was Vanessa's father, the man who would come out after Golden Bonnie would say goodbye in the evening, and then offer the two girls to go out for ice cream after closing.

Kelsey was still trying to figure out what exactly Golden Bonnie was, even to this day. This was the only child left that associated Golden Bonnie with something good, and William intended to keep it that way. She'd never know what horrible things William had done in that suit.

"You loved Golden Bonnie," he continued, "You loved all the animatronics over there. And they loved you, kiddo, and I'm sure they still do."

At the sentimental statement, the girl smiled softly, a tinge of sadness to it, although it was a bit strange to suggest the animatronics were real now, "I did. Bonnie was my favorite. All of them felt like my friends. Sure, they were robots but as a kid, my brain couldn't tell the difference. I still dunno if Golden Bonnie was a bot or a human or what, but...That bunny made me feel safe."

Typically William's pride came when he got the rush he got when he killed back in the 80s, or the pride he felt when he hired that new security guard without a hitch who was...currently indisposed. Right, he needed another one...Soon. But this pride now came from knowing that he did something that positively affected someone instead of the opposite. Whatever little left he had of his humanity, Kelsey had found it.

"I'm glad," he smiled fondly down at her shorter form, "Well I was going to keep this a secret, but from how many years I've known you and how much you've loved the place, I think I'm gonna tell you now." Mr Raglan, Mr Afton's hands clasped firmly on his desk with a grin, looking like he wasn't a 50 something year old and more like a kid in a candy store, the anticipation killing him.

"I have a job for you. And I think you're gonna like what I'm offering."

The girl sitting across from him raised an eyebrow. Really? He had a job offer? This early? He was confident in it too? Kelsey had to know.

"Yeah? What....What is it?"

The counselor had a glint in his eye, looking for a brief second like the madman he was. Sure Kels trusted him and didn't think her life was in any danger, but he looked crazed, as if something was being set in motion. His palms lay flat on the desk before his slim form stood, grinning down at the child he used to babysit, all grown up. It was time for her to return. She'd never know what really goes on, and she'd be just as happy. The animatronics would love to see her.

"Freddy's is re-opening...and I'd like you to be a part of that, Kelsey."

The girl's eyes went wide, flabbergasted by what he just said, "Are...Are you serious?"

His grin grew even wider as Kelsey questioned him. He knew she'd be interested.

"And I'd like you," he continued calmly despite his disposition, "To be assistant manager. You'd be helping run the place in all aspects, making sure all employees and customers are having a good time during operational hours. You'd be at the heart of the operation. And if someone gives you bullshit, could be anybody? I'll take care of it. You're a real special kid, Kels. You got talent, you're smart, you know how to connect with your inner child."

"Mr. Afton," she has started to say, shaking her head in disbelief of what she was hearing, but he just kept on going.

"Wages can be justified, you'll get 40 hours solid a week, you'll have to work some Saturdays because of how busy it is, but I'm sure I can find someone to cover for you every once in a while if you need to be somewhere. Also..."

One of his large hands picked up a pen and started to tap it on the table along with each word, "I need an artist's touch to get the place lively again. I'd like to get a big mural done near the entrance into the restaurant, something to welcome the new and returning customers with, something that really stirs the imagination. You think you can do that, kiddo?"

Speechless. Utterly speechless. She couldn't have imagined a better place to work. She already had felt right at home there, granted she hadn't set foot there in years, but the thought of introducing her animatronic friends to a new generation of children to take into their hearts? Kelsey was sold.

"I..." Kelsey laughed, "I don't know what to say!"

His plan was working. In turn for being his top employee, no harm would come to her. He was partial to her, just like his own daughter, although Vanessa had a few close calls...

He returned her laugh with an upbeat chuckle, opening up his arms wide, as if he was Willy Wonka, done presenting his latest and greatest candy to the world, "You don't have to say anything! I see that you're interested just by your expression. It tugs at your heart strings. I knew you'd love it. The place will be cleaned up in the meantime, but come next Monday, you and I can start brainstorming ideas for that mural, and I can reintroduce you to the building, get a sense of where everything is. It won't officially open for about a month, but I need you to know that if you accept the position, you are guaranteed it."

Kelsey couldn't believe that her favorite place in the world, filled with childhood memories, would be re-opening. Things would need to be updated for modern times but...the majority of it, including the animatronic show, would be the same one. Her heart became full.

"I-Im honored," both her dimples showed as she stood, a smaller hand reaching out to shake William...Steve's larger one, "I'll take it."

"Wonderful, Kels!" he shook it firmly before patting her hand when she let go, "I knew you'd be the right choice. Now-- You'll have to fill out paperwork and all the boring forms, but after that? You're good to set sail, my dear."

Excitedly, Mr. Raglan pulled out the necessary forms from a folder in his filing cabinet, then handed them to Kelsey, as well as the pen he had held onto. After telling her to ask him any questions at all about certain parts of the form, William Afton was awkwardly silent as Kelsey filled out the information on the papers. It made her want to start a conversation just to fill in the white noise. It was too quiet.

"So next Monday is orientation?" she asked, almost done with the stack after several minutes.

With a sharp nod, the lanky man drank a sip of his coffee before answering, putting it down afterwards next to his mug of pens, "Yes, Monday morning. I'll be expecting you by nine."

"Nine," Kelsey repeated to confirm it in her mind, "Got it. And uhh what about attire? Black pants, business shoes?"

"Oh come now, Kelsey," he gently scolded her, "Wear whatever you'd like. Its orientation. Besides, you'll be getting your own uniform when you start; I'm not worried. It'll be just you and I for the day."

The anxieties and concerns Kelsey had were diminished in just a few sentences. This was too good to be true, but she finally would be happy, she hoped. Finishing up signing the many documents, she stood up again, handing them to her family friend, her new boss.

"I can't wait to start, Mr. Afton," she beamed like a ray of light up to him, "Really, this'll be an amazing opportunity for me."

"Likewise, Miss Anderson," Steve pulled back into his professionalism a tad, placing the documents in a safe place before clapping his hands together, beaming down at her like a proud parent, "I can't wait to see what you can do for the old place, breathe some new life into it. I'm sure you'll do amazing things here with your potential."

If Vanessa was here, she'd stop Kelsey immediately, telling her that this was dangerous...but Vanessa wasn't there. Nobody could stop William Afton now. His restaurant was going to open again, he would continue his spree of killing, and his staff wouldn't know the wiser. Everything was falling into place. Kelsey would carry the illusion of happiness in the place while the truth would be hidden from her and the guest view.

"Well, that's all I need from you," he dropped his arms to his sides, "Everything is all set. You got any questions for me, squirt?"

"Oh I'll be sure to think of some over the week!"

"Absolutely, absolutely. Uhhh if you wanna give me a call with any questions, you can. Here, my card. Has my number and extension. I'm here throughout the evening, mostly night shifts."

"At a counseling office?"

"Yeah," he breathed through his teeth before continuing, "I stay after hours to catch up on the next day. So don't feel shy to call, I'm always here."

The card she took and slipped into her purse without a second thought, "Perfect, I will."

As the meeting came to a close, Mr. Raglan grinned down at his new employee. He had watched her blossom as a child and now he was going to see her succeed alongside him in his line of work. The thought made him shake his head, "Good, good...Now you rest up, because next week we are going to hit the ground running, alright?"

"I will."

"C'mere kiddo," William came around for a full hug this time, his long arms wrapping around Kelsey's small round body, squeezing reassuringly, "You're gonna do great. And it's so good to see you too. You've grown up way too fast, you have to stop doing that, okay? I don't need more reminders that I'm an old man."

She ended up laughing softly at that, "Okay, I won't. Tell Vanessa I said hi?"

He paused for a moment, abruptly, before replying, as if he was coming out of a trance, "Oh yeah, yeah, sure I will! Will do." He then looked down at his watch before patting her shoulder, letting her go finally, "Jesus--Sorry Kels, I might have to gently kick you out, my next appointment should be here any minute."

"Oh no, that's okay, totally get it," she quickly nodded, "I'll see you Monday? Nine?"

"Yep! You got it," Steve winked, "I'll see you around, kiddo. Thanks for coming in."

And with that, Kelsey gave him a partial wave before exiting the room.

William stood there, smiling to himself, not just because he just hired his daughter's childhood friend, but also because of the next candidate he had lined up right after her. He pulled out the file and read the name over and over again.

Kelsey passed a young disheveled man in a hoodie grudgingly make his way to the office she just came out of. She didn't get a good look at him, more focused on her own success of the meeting, grinning ear to ear as she exited the building. Clearly the guy didn't want to be there, he glanced up at Kelsey for a moment before going back to his route of looking at the floor. She popped her headphones back on to resume the voice of David Bowie, a triumphant end to what was supposed to be a nerve wracking assessment.

The door opened to Mr. Raglan's office. The meeting started, the tone shockingly being a complete opposite of what Kelsey went through. The counselor swiveled in his chair with the young man's file in his hands, looking over the pages. He had looked over them many times before this, unknowingly to the soulless client sitting across from him. Steve hummed a few times in fake thought, acting at his finest. Then his voice got very low, almost in a growl in fake distaste, looking up at his next victim. He was having way too much fun.

"What is your deal, Mike?"

[hazel-of-sodor]

A Screech in the Night: Ch.1

Ch.1 The Uman and Din

Other Chapters

To the north of Harlech in Merioneth, lies a little railway, the Uman and Dim. Once a branch line of God's Wonderful Railway itself, the line had been closed by a Doctor who had odd ideas on healing the country's rail lines. The Doctor had been tasked with fixing the railways by men who knew the price of everything, and the value of nothing. The solution he came up with was to simply remove lines till the railway worked. 

 The Uman and Din was one of the lines closed, but as normally happens in the world, the people the line served knew the line's value better than the directors in London. The line was bought for the town and with it six engines. These were not diesels or even electrics as one might guess today, but steam engines, proper Swindon ones at that. This is the story of how they gained their seventh.

One cold winter's night, the railway received a visitor. Eight large driving wheels propelled a shadow across the yard towards the shed. Tendrils of shadow whipped off of the engine's form.

'Scare them,' a quiet voice whispered within the giant's mind.

 4702 chuckled lowly as she approached the shed. These engines looked so content and secure in this little shed. It was time to remind them how lucky they were to be saved from her fate. A glimpse of her fate would ensure they valued what they had been given.

"Quiet," came the quiet hiss just as 4702 was about to blast her whistle. She looked in surprise to see a 0-6-0 pannier tank of the 97xx class was awake and looking at her anxiously.

Before 4702 could reply, the tank engine spoke. "You're more than welcome to sleep here, we'd never turn another engine away, especially another Western, but please keep it down." She looked over to the Star class at the end of the shed. "Abbey only got back an hour ago and has to be up at daybreak. She needs her sleep."

4702 looked over the Star class. Even in sleep, exhaustion covered her features. The number 4061 on her cabside was faded and dull, as were the nameplates on her sides reading Glastonbury Abbey, but above her smokebox a lovingly polished nameplate reading Guinevere sat. She towered over the other engines in the shed.

The 97xx followed her gaze. "She's the strongest." She whispered quietly. "We help where we can, but she's the only one capable of far too many of the trains."

4702 surveyed the other engines, each bore exhaustion on their features heavily as they slept fitfully.

The 97xx looked no better, it was obvious she dearly wished to join her fleetmates in sleep. Painted across the side of her can the name Enid could just be made out.

'Wake them!' the whisper cackled.

4702 shoved the voice aside with all the strength her class was famed for. 

"Tell me little one," 4702's voice was a mere whisper, yet it echoed around them, bouncing back again and again from odd angles, filling the air as thoroughly as a siren. "why do you not sleep with your shedmates?"

The tank engine looked down sadly, "Vandals keep trying to steal parts from the shed...sometimes from off us. It's my night to stand watch."

'Scare theeemmm' the whisper hissed.

The giant flicked her tendrils in agitation, "Not tonight little one." The little 97 tried to argue, but 4702 continued, "sleep. I will stand guard. Any vandal will find themselves sorely regretting the choices that led them here this night."

4702 shimmered in place, suddenly facing out from the shed. She rolled quietly back into the shed, a shadow brushing coldly across the 97's cheek. She was asleep before 4702 had stopped moving.

'Revenge,' the whisper hissed sullenly.

"Not tonight," the giant rumbled quietly. "These engines have earned their rest."

The whisper subsided mutinously.

4702 allowed it a moment before continuing, "It is just for the night, tomorrow we steam for London. Then you will have your fill."

The whisper rumbled happily.

"Besides," 4702's smile stretched far too wide, "the night is not over yet. Who knows what vandals might stumble upon tonight."

The whisper's cackle rang throughout her mind.

Author’s Note:

Hey guys! This new fic will be coming out every Tuesday until I either catch up with where I’ve written (currently 7 chapters are done). Normally I wait till I’ve finished a Fic, but I honestly have no idea how far this fic will go. It was supposed to be a one shot and I’ve written 7 chapters and I’m not done with the original concept.

[shingekinohyrulewrites]

Coffee & Comfort

While studying for midterms at an obscure coffee shop on campus, your (very handsome) professor comes in to do some grading. The two of you share a table since he needs an outlet to charge his laptop, which leads to the start of a forbidden relationship.

Read first chapter here

Read previous chapter here

WARNING 18+ ONLY : semi-public sex, groping over clothes, professor student dynamic

Following your intimate encounter with Shouto on Valentine’s Day, you had avoided him, ignoring his text messages and calls. You had sent him simple replies, blaming your classes and workload and stating you would talk to him once you were less stressed. Ochako even noticed the change in your demeanor, asking what had transpired on Valentine’s Day to freak you out. You had told her it was nothing and had changed the subject.

It had been nearly two weeks since Valentine’s Day and you had yet to see Shouto. He had been texting you every day, wishing you a good day and asking if you were okay. You had left him on read, only responding when he was persistent and insisting you were fine.

With a two hour gap between your classes, you decided to grab some lunch near the library and get some light reading done. Your stomach growled at the thought of a good chicken bowl when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.

Shouto: Come to my office. I know you have two hours of free time.

Shouto: We need to talk.

Your heart sank in your chest. Was he finally tired of sneaking around? Had Valentine’s Day made him realize he wanted something more that you couldn’t give him? You replied with a simple ok and turned around, heading towards the Business building.

The professors’ offices were on the bottom floor, with a simple directory providing directions and office numbers for each one. Professor Shouto Todoroki was displayed in neat lettering, indicating that he was in office number five. Sucking in a deep breath, you began making your way down the hallway, heading towards the back of the building as you looked for number five. It was two doors down from the end of the hallway, the door shut as you turned to your left to face it. You raised your hand and knocked gently three times. Shouto’s deep voice rumbled, telling you to come in and you did so.

He was sitting behind an oak desk, the surface neat and organized. A stack of papers was to his left, his laptop in front of him as he seemingly graded an essay. On his right was a neat pile of Business textbooks. A gold nameplate with his name sat at the front of the desk, the lights of the office causing it to give off a slight glare. He peered up at you, gesturing for you to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“Thanks for coming so quickly.”

Shouto stood up, striding behind you to lock the door. You felt your heart drop even further into your stomach. He sat behind his desk again, closing his laptop and resting his chin on his interlaced fingers.

“I feel like you’ve been ignoring me since Valentine’s Day and I want to have a conversation about what happened.”

You gave a stiff nod, waiting for him to continue.

“When we first began dating, I expressed to you that I’ve never dated before and this is all new to me. Due to that, I have never been . . . intimate with anyone.”

A light flush dusted his cheeks but he pressed on.

“I got excited when you got on top of me and started moving. It felt so good and I told you to keep going until I . . . er . . . finished. I left to quickly clean up and I took too long, I acknowledge that. I can understand why you might have thought I was trying to get you to leave.”

Oh.

“I’m sorry. I should have communicated with you better in that moment but I was ashamed. I didn’t know how to express to you what had just happened.”

“Shouto,” you began, but he held up a hand.

“I want us to move forward and be honest with each other. I know as things progress between us communication will be important.”

You nodded, knowing he probably wouldn’t let you speak until he got everything off his chest.

“I, um . . .”

He reached up to rub the back of his neck nervously, eyes flickering down towards his desk.

“I really want to do that again, maybe even more.”

OH.

His eyes flickered behind you towards the door, and you remembered that he had locked it. The two of you moved at the same time, meeting in front of his desk in a clash of teeth and tongue. He swiftly picked you up, turning you around so he could place you on his desk. With one swipe of his hand, he knocked everything to the floor, muttering under his breath that he couldn’t care less at the moment before kissing you again.

You spread your legs, allowing him to settle in between them. Through the material of his slacks you could see he was aroused, and the observation had arousal going straight to your core. Your eyes slowly moved up his body from his bulge, staring at him for a moment before lifting a hand to grab at it.

A choked strangle escaped from his throat, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your hands holding onto him. You let your fingers feel the shape of him, relishing in the hardness and tracing his shaft. Just through his slacks you could tell he was thick, and the potential of it had your mouth watering.

One of his hands reached out, clutching onto your right breast before squeezing it. A low moan tumbled out of your mouth and you bit down on your lip, glancing up at him with a pleading look. He squeezed again, his fingers searching for your hardening nipple before pulling on it gently. Your head fell back, panting quietly as he experimented with tugging at it to gauge your reaction.

Your hand began to rub against him, gripping his cock desperately as he moved his other hand up to grope at both of your breasts. The arousal was beginning to dampen your panties, and your hips jutted forward in search of friction. Shouto ducked his head to kiss you, desperate as he let go to grab onto your hair, twisting your head to taste more of you. The new angle had your head swimming and you clutched onto him, squeezing him harder as you tried to help him fall over the edge.

“F-fuck, love, keep touching me like that, you feel so good.”

It was the first time you had ever heard him cuss and you felt great satisfaction that it had come from your hands. You kept on, trying to keep a steady rhythm and pressure as you kept on with groping him. His hand moved between both breasts, squeezing them roughly before tugging hard on your nipples.

The sound of footsteps walking by had you both freezing. His head slowly turned to face the door, making sure it was locked before turning back to you.

“You can keep your voice down, right love?”

With that, he pulled exceptionally hard on your left nipple, a high pitched whine leaving your mouth. He shot you a warning look before pulling again, and this time you muffled it against the back of your hand. You tried to resume the pace you had set before and it wasn’t long before Shouto’s hips were bucking against you, a low growl forming in his chest.

“I-I’m going to come, keep going love.”

He came with a soft groan, hips coming to a standstill as his legs began to shake. You bit your lip at the sight in front of you, his head thrown back revealing the vast expanse of his neck, sharp jawline angled towards the ceiling. His eyes were squeezed shut, an absolute look of pleasure written all over his face. When he finally looked back at you, his eyes were half-lidded, exhaustion and satisfaction evident in them. He leaned down to kiss you, giving you one last squeeze before stepping back.

“That was . . . amazing. Your hands felt so good on me, love.”

You smiled proudly at him, kicking your legs childishly while you still sat on his desk.

“I could say the same thing about you. Maybe next time you can explore a little lower.”

Surprise flickered across his face before he chuckled, shaking his head.

“You little minx.”

[wolfxplush]

>You chose to follow gord

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Once Gord storms off into the shadows of the academy grounds, your curiosity gets the better of you. You keep a safe distance, quietly following him down the side path, your footsteps light on the cobblestones. Gord moves quickly, clearly wanting to get wherever he’s going without being seen, his eyes darting around nervously. The further he walks, the more the grandeur of Bullsworth surrounds you—pristine lawns, statues of long-forgotten founders, and ornate buildings that seem almost too lavish for a school.

Finally, Gord slips through the iron gate of a massive, mansion-like building: Harrington House. The nameplate above the doorway gleams in the faint light. The house stands like a monument to wealth and privilege, towering over the rest of the academy’s structures. Its ivy-covered stone walls and large windows speak of old money, and the golden fixtures glint ominously in the moonlight.

You hesitate for a moment, watching as Gord disappears inside. Then, cautiously, you push open the gate and follow.

Inside, the house is even more impressive—high ceilings, grand chandeliers, and expensive furniture line every corner. The air smells faintly of leather and polish, and the hallways are lined with portraits of sharply dressed men and women who all seem to share the same aristocratic sneer. It’s almost too quiet, the house having an eerie, museum-like feel, as if you’ve stepped back into another time.

As you creep further inside, you catch sight of Gord down one of the halls. He’s standing in front of a door, nervously clutching the package. He hasn’t noticed you yet, too focused on whatever’s on the other side of that door. You duck behind a corner, but curiosity claws at you. What is this place? And what’s so important about this package?

Taking a breath, you step out of the shadows and walk toward him.

“What is this place?” you ask, your voice echoing off the walls.

Gord jumps, spinning around with wide eyes. His face flushes with anger and fear. "What the—how did you—" He glares at you, visibly trembling. "You followed me? You *followed* me?! How dare you!"

You take a step back, startled by his outburst. "I—"

"Do you know who I am?" Gord shrieks, his voice high-pitched and panicked. "Do you have any idea what Derby’s going to do when he finds out about this? He’s going to kill me! I was supposed to do this quietly, and now you've ruined everything!"

Before you can respond, the sound of hurried footsteps echoes down the hall. A tall, blonde boy, dressed in an immaculate blazer with an air of authority and irritation, rounds the corner. His sharp blue eyes narrow when they land on you, and his lips curl into a sneer.

It’s a blonde haired kid, dressed in what seems to be a king costume. Harrington, you remember that name from newspapers. That name being popular, piecing together the puzzle you realize this must be Mr.Harringtons son. Derby.

“Gord, what the hell is going on here?” Derby snaps, his eyes flicking between you and Gord, who’s now frozen with fear.

Gord stumbles over his words, gripping the package tighter. "Derby, I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

Derby cuts him off with a dismissive wave, shoving him aside with a hard glare. "Give me that." He snatches the package from Gord’s hands. “Get out of here before you make things worse.”

Gord scurries away, visibly shaken, leaving you standing alone with Derby. He turns his attention fully to you, eyes sharp as daggers, the package now tucked under his arm. His irritation is palpable, the air thick with tension.

“And who exactly are you?” he asks coldly, stepping closer. “What are you doing in my house?”

You open your mouth to answer, but Derby holds up a hand, silencing you before you can speak. "Let me guess—you thought it’d be fun to follow Gord and see what all the fuss was about, didn’t you?" He sneers, his voice dripping with condescension. "Well, congratulations. You’ve just made a huge mistake. And now I’m going to have to deal with you."

His eyes narrow, and you can feel the weight of his judgment bearing down on you.

WELCOME TO BULLSWORTH

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[Access Granted]

[>Play]

You swore you have seen the same building three times now, you have to be walking in circles. The streets are eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves stirred by the evening wind. You stand at the edge of a cracked sidewalk, gazing down a desolate stretch of road lined with boarded-up buildings and sagging rooftops. The town, if it can even be called that, feels abandoned—like it has been for a long time.

You internally scold your parents for moving here. Your father got a job over and next thing you know you’re being shipped off to the middle of nowhere. You’re honestly shocked he managed to get a job in this ghost town, whatever they at spaying him isn’t enough. To top it all off your being sent to the only school around called Bullworth Academy. The school you are currently trying to find the way to.

Your footsteps echo faintly as you walk, the sound bouncing off empty alleys and dim-lit windows where no one seems to be home. A single flickering streetlight illuminates the intersection ahead, its dim glow casting long shadows across the pavement. A signpost creaks on rusted hinges, but the words on it are too weather-worn to read. You stop, heart sinking, realizing that the only directions you had were vague at best, and Bullsworth Academy is nowhere in sight.

You glance around, hoping for a passing car, a stray pedestrian—anything. But there’s no one. Just the distant call of crows circling overhead. The faint murmur of a breeze that smells of rain and old decay. Somewhere, far off, the academy must be waiting. But which direction? Which path?

You tighten your grip on your bag, eyes scanning the empty town for any sign of life. The unease is palpable now.

Lost, and with no one to guide you, all you have is your wits—and the creeping feeling that something’s off about this place.

The academy may be closer than it seems. Or it may be much farther than you ever imagined.

[teaandfiction-28]

My request, if I may; you know how much I love your work. 😊Characters, Hank and Kate 🥰 Fluff 12 Smut 11 Angst 11 [3/3]

@jasonbeghefangirl - up next, some angsty goodness!

—————————

Prompt: “Just answer the fucking question.”

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: Language

Timeline: Set between C7 and C8 of “Perfect Storm.”

"What the hell is wrong with you?”

Kate rolled her eyes at his sharp question but wisely remained silent. The day had been a clusterfuck from the moment she rolled out of bed, sleeping through her alarm clock and turning up for work almost two hours late. 

Hank had, of course, given her a public dressing down for her tardiness but, just when she thought her day couldn’t get any worse, the suspect they had been chasing had managed to catch her off-guard resulting in a detour to Chicago Med. When she had arrived back at the district, the rest of the unit were still up to their eyes in paperwork but she was immediately summoned into Hank’s office and, closing the door quietly behind her, she slowed to an eventual stop just in front of his desk.

“I don’t-”

“Just answer the fucking question.”

She lifted her eyes from where they had been fixed on his shiny nameplate to settle on his face, swallowing thickly as she watched the muscle in his jaw twitch in irritation. 

It had been almost a week since their undercover stint at the strip club and, since then, neither of them had addressed the very obvious attraction they appeared to have for one another, opting instead to the let the underlying sexual tension continue to bubble away beneath the surface. 

They hadn’t mentioned the stolen glances, the subtle touches and they certainly hadn’t discussed the kiss. But it wasn’t like either of them had forgotten either. Instead there was this palpable friction between them that they were simply unwilling to address for fear of where it might lead. 

But this was the third time in almost as many weeks that some asshole had landed a fist in Kate’s face and he was clearly becoming frustrated with her lack of danger awareness. 

“Nothing’s wrong with me Sarg.”

He hummed in the back of throat, leaning forwards so that both elbows were braced on the smooth wood of his desk. 

“Then why the hell do you have a concussion and yet another black eye?”

Kate ground her teeth together, not exactly thrilled at the prospect of admitting she hadn’t been one hundred percent on her game. Her head was throbbing and she wanted nothing more than to finish her report and crawl into bed but he seemed hell-bent on chewing her out so she straightened her spine and turned her eyes to the window above his head. 

“I wasn’t paying attention and I dropped the ball. It won’t happen again.”

He pushed to his feet with startling speed, rounding his desk with a look of fury etched onto his face as he advanced on her.

“You’re damn right it won’t! You have any idea how it feels when you hear an officer down call over the radio and you have no fucking idea if they’re dead or alive?” 

By the time he finished shouting he had stepped into her space, eyes flashing dangerously but, to her credit, Kate didn’t shrink away from him. Instead, she kept her face carefully blank and tried not to think too much about how incredible he smelled or just close his lips were to her own. 

‘Just a few inches and I could taste him.’

As she frantically tried to silence her salacious brain, her eyes darted down to his mouth before she could stop herself. 

‘Fuck...fuck!’

For one blissful second, she thought that maybe he had been too mad to notice her slip up but the subtle stiffening of his spine told her that she had been well and truly rumbled. It wasn’t until her head began to throb like it had its own heartbeat did she realise that she had been holding her breath, waiting for the inevitable explosion of the infamous Hank Voight temper but, surprisingly, it never came. 

“You’re better than this.” He muttered quietly, his deep russet orbs locked on her face. “I don’t care how good you are. If I can’t trust you to take care of yourself out there, don’t think for one second I won’t bench your ass, understand?”

Kate knew he was right - she’d been having the same arguments with her direct supervisors ever since she left the academy. But something about his warning felt more like a plea rather than a caution and she knew her instinct was right when he reached out and surreptitiously brushed the pad of his thumb against the slowly darkening bruise just below her left eye socket. 

“I don’t want to worry about you, Meadows.” He said softly, a hint of tenderness colouring his tone.

“Yes Sarg.” She eventually replied, never taking her eyes from his as he continued to stroke the soft skin of her cheek for a few more beats until he eventually dropped his hand back to his side and returned to his seat. 

“Don’t think you’re getting off lightly.” He said gruffly, picking up his previously abandoned pen and turning his attention back to the stack of papers on his desk. “Every time you get into an unnecessary scuffle, you’ll teach a class at the academy. Maybe brushing up on how to duck might be a good place to start.”

This time when he returned his gaze to hers, there was a mischievous glint in his eye that had the corner of Kate’s mouth tugging upwards in amusement, somewhat relieved that he wasn’t going to draw out her punishment any longer than necessary.

“Copy that Sarg.” She said and, with a cheeky wink that she immediately regretted when her eye socket throbbed in pain, she turned on her heel and left him alone in his office, silently thanking and cursing Sam Miller for handing him the lit stick of dynamite that was Katherine Meadows. 

[avengerswriter4eva]

Convent Part 2 (multiple pairings)*

Warnings: dub-con; power dynamics; MotherSuperior!Natasha; nun!Wanda; nun!Yelena; nun!Valkyrie; groping; spanking; oral (r giving and receiving); cursing; slapping; dark!avengerwomen; sexual harassment vibes; voyeurism; mommy kink; teasing; masturbation

Pairings: Natasha!Wanda; Yelena!r; (soft)Valkyrie!r; Wanda!r)

Wanda hesitated, her fist pausing just before making contact with the door, her eyes reading the nameplate with trepidation.

Mother Superior Romanoff

“I know you’re out there, Maximoff.” The hoarse voice caught her mid-thought. Wanda sighed, opening the door and meekly entering the room.

“Yes, Reverend Mother?” She asked, lowering her gaze to the ground. Her eyes snapped up abruptly as the older woman chuckled.

“How did Ms. y/n do? By the sounds of it, she had a good time.” The Reverend Mother laughed. Wanda, normally assertive and sarcastic, caught herself blushing by accident, but couldn’t keep the smile off of her face.

“She’s sweet. Somewhat pliable, given the right circumstances. You’ll like her, Natasha.” The redhead’s face broke into a genuine grin as she gestured the brunette further into her office.

“Poor me a drink, will you Wanda?” Wanda smiled and walked around Natasha’s desk, crouching slightly to fetch Natasha’s stash of Vodka. She shrieked only slightly at the sensation of the older woman walking up behind her, close enough that Wanda could feel her breath on her neck, rustling Wanda’s hair and making her shiver.

“Natasha,” she whispered slightly, glancing towards the slightly open office door.

“Let them see,” Wanda felt her knees go weak as Natasha whispered roughly in her ear, catching her earlobe between her teeth. “Is she as special as you are?” Wanda shivered at the compliment, subconsciously pushing herself back towards Natasha’s body, desperate for contact.

“I…” Wanda’s voice was cut off when Natasha’s hand came down firmly on her ass.

“As bratty?” Natasha’s hand firmly rubbed where she had slapped, soothing the burning sensation before gripping it tightly.

“No, ma’am.” Wanda’s voice was desperate with need, she could feel her temperature spiking. She yelped as Natasha’s hand came down on her other cheek harshly.

“That’s not my name, sugar.” Natasha’s other hand moved its way up Wanda’s back, pushing her against the desk.

“Sorry, Mommy,” Wanda gasped as Natasha ground into her, hissing at the sudden friction.

“Did she get you all riled up?” Natasha purred, holding Wanda’s hips steady, refusing to allow her to move. Wanda groaned in frustration as she clenched the edge of the desk in both hands.

“Yes, Mommy.” She groaned as Natasha lifted her habit, her fingernails scratching up Wanda’s legs. Wanda visibly slumped against the desk as Natasha moved away from her, the smirk on her face only growing at Wanda’s visible frustration.

“You want her to please you, don’t you?” She cooed, nearly chuckling as Wanda’s eyes flashed at Natasha’s teasing.

“Yes.” Wanda hissed. Natasha raised an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?” Her voice dripping in warning. Wanda was spared from answering immediately when a knock sounded on the door and Valkyrie walked in. Natasha lifted a finger in warning at the new woman, her attention still locked on Wanda. “We’re not done with this conversation, Sister Maximoff.” Wanda lowered her eyes to the desk.

“Yes, Reverend Mother,” Wanda responded softly. Only after confirming the younger woman’s surrender did Natasha turn her attention towards Valkyrie.

“Reverend Mother, you called for me?” Natasha smirked and nodded.

“You’re up with Ms. Y/l/n.” Natasha ordered. Valkyrie raised an eyebrow but knew better than to argue.

“Yelena’s going to be pissed,” Valkyrie chuckled, nodding in agreement. Natasha laughed.

“Val, y/n isn’t ready for Yelena yet. You know she likes them more…wild.” Valkyrie chuckled knowingly. “See how she responds to that mouth of yours – and find out what she can do,” She ordered, nodding – effectively dismissing Valkyrie from the room. The last thing Valkyrie heard had her chuckling under her breath, shaking her head and almost feeling sorry for Wanda. Almost.

“Ms. Maximoff, it appears that some of my lessons have been forgotten.”

…

You yelped slightly as the thick Russian accent sounded behind you at the same time you felt a firm hand grip your ass.

“Aren’t you running late, Ms. Y/l/n?” The blonde rounded on you once she let go of your ass as she appraised you. “I thought Wanda said you were feistier.” Your eyes flashed before you realized what was happening, and a slight smirk tugged at the corner of Yelena’s lips. “Something to say?” She teased.

“I…” You gasped as you felt a hand around your wrist, immediately pivoting your focus to the figure who had appeared beside you.

“I promise you’ll thank me later,” Valkyrie chuckled at the blonde, who flipped her off but grinned at the same time.

“In that case, don’t take it easy on her,” she retorted. Her eyes flashed in amusement and slight possessiveness, and she waved teasingly as Valkyrie dragged you away until you found yourself in a darkened, empty office. She instantly had you pressed against the door, trapped between the wood and her body.

“Did Wanda hurt you, baby?” She cooed; her breath soft on your neck as your body clenched beneath her. You frowned at the unfamiliar name of Sister Maximoff at first, but the name suited her. For a moment you felt her fingers inside of you again, and your eyes glazed over.

“No, ma’am.” You whimpered, but almost immediately frowned as the woman in front of you laughed.

“Baby, none of that with me,” she murmured, kissing your neck softly, her hands resting firmly but gently on your hips.

“What are you…” you started as her hands began moving up your legs, hovering right at the hem of your skirt which was, admittedly, far shorter than it should have been. She pulled away from you, a frown appearing on her otherwise flawless face.

“Are you going to tell me no, Angel?” You frowned in confusion. Were you? You sighed as she moved her thigh between your legs, and you leaned your forehead against hers.

“No ma’am,” you breathed, and it was the last breath you took before her velvet-soft lips were on yours, her tongue pushing easily past your lips, gliding over yours.

“Call me Val, Angel,” she broke away from you breathless and your eyes widened as she moved you backwards towards the couch. They widened further as the beautiful woman knelt in front of you, moving your skirt up your legs.

“Shit,” you murmured as Val nipped at your thighs, which parted automatically. She inhaled sharply at your scent, glancing up at you, her eyes twinkling.

“The mouth on you, honey,” she murmured. One of her hands snuck easily up your body and you didn’t hesitate before allowing her fingers into your mouth, sucking immediately. “That’s it, see if that will keep you quiet,” she murmured, sliding your panties easily over your hips with absolutely no resistance. You moaned around her fingers as her tongue slide over you easily before wrapping her lips around you, sucking softly.

Your fingers dug into her dark hair, trying to find a rhythm with your hips that would match her movements. Her tongue dipped inside of you briefly before swirling around your sensitive bud, watching you intently. You were already close. She moaned into you as you dug your fingers tighter into her hair, trying to pull her even closer.

“I…” you tried to warn her, but had no chance as she merely nodded her head slightly as your relased over her open and waiting mouth. She smiled, wiping a hand across her face as she sat down on the couch beside you.

“Did you like that, Angel?” Her voice was soft. Sweet. Almost tender. It was a shocking contradiction to the fierceness that she typically displayed. You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. She cupped your face gently in her hand, brushing her thumb across your face.

“That was…” she smiled, her thumb brushing across my lips.

“Shhhh…I know, sweetheart.” She kissed you softly, and you moaned at the taste of yourself on her tongue. Her hand ended up holding your chin in the exact same way Wanda had, only far gentler. Her next question caught you by surprise. “Did you learn anything?” You frowned, trying to work out what she meant. Noting your confusion, she leaned forward, kissing gently across your neck before whispering in your ear. “Wanda said she promised you that you could touch her, next time.” Your eyes immediately glazed over at the suggestion and Valkyrie chuckled at your reaction. “Do you remember where her room is?”

…

What felt like only seconds later, you were knocking on Wanda’s door, surprised by her breathy sound as she ordered you inside. You had closed the door before you realized what you were looking at. Wanda was naked on the bed in front of you, her fingers tracing slow, lazy, circles around her clit as her eyes watched you for your reaction. It was immediate, you were practically drooling. Wanda chuckled as she removed her hand, gesturing you forward. You obeyed without hesitation. Wanda patted the bed beside her and you moved forward, sitting gently beside her. You gasped when she traced her wet fingers over your lips, immediately granting them access.

“You want more?” She murmured; her smile wide at your reaction to her taste. You nodded, and Wanda’s hand wrapped around the back of your neck as your braced yourself, hands on either side of her head, as her lips found yours. “Are you going to be a good girl?” She pulled back, her eyes appraising you skeptically. You were lost for her, there was nothing you could do.

“Yes ma’am,” you whisper. Wanda’s lips curl upwards.

“Do you want to make me feel good?” She asked, watching you closely. You nodded. “Good.” She applied slight pressure on the back of your neck, pulling you into her with no hesitation. You almost lost control at the taste of her, fists clenching as you tried to focus on the lewd sounds she was making.

“Fuck, you learn fast, y/n,” she moaned, her hips moving in sync with my mouth as we naturally fell into a rhythm like we had been made for this moment, and this moment alone. “Do you want to make me cup?” She clenched her thighs around your head when you nodded in response to her question, not willing for your mouth to leave her. Her hands clasped your hair as she thrust herself against you.

“Do you think you can cum with me, детка?” You didn’t need to know what the word meant to feel the instant rush of liquid down your thighs. “Come on, baby, please.” Wanda craned her neck to look down at you as your hand found its way between your legs, moaning directly into her and making her legs shake.

“Shit!” She moaned, clenching her jaw, and you felt your release coursing through you at the same moment. She pulled you up the length of her body and you were surprised at the way she curled into you, given her dominance yesterday. “You did so good,” she murmured, he lips brushing over your cheeks as your chests rose and fell in unison. “Can you give me another one, y/n?” You didn’t have time to answer before her hand was between your legs, dipping inside you easily.

“Fuck,” you groaned, Wanda chuckling into your neck. “Now that I know how good that mouth is, you can curse as much as you want, babygirl.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

AAAAAH!!! Petition for the news people to show Chris's face on tv and Akio and his mom see and come to rescueee -🦖

(follows from this piece, in what I am calling the Chris Saves Himself AU)

CW: BBU, some vaguely dehumanizing language, references to child abuse and ableism

"Mom! Aki!" Emi's voice rises loud enough to filter right up the stairs and into Akio's room, audible right through his headphones while he listens to his playlist of Tristan's favorite songs and lays in bed.

Akio sniffs, sitting up and taking the headphones off, rubbing the tear tracks off his face. It's still light outside - he never knows what time it is anymore, not since he quit gymnastics. "Emi? Did you say something?"

"Yeah, you better get down here like right now! Right now!" The urgency in her voice sets his heart to beating faster and Akio pushes himself up, taking the stairs three-steps-to-a-jump. His mother is right behind him, coming out of her own room with her book still in hand, thumb marking her place.

"Are you okay, honey?" Aimi calls out. Somehow even though she doesn't skip any steps she beats Akio to the bottom. "Em? Emi?"

"I'm fine, I swear, just-... look at the TV!"

Akio and Aimi swing into the living room, finding Emi sitting on the couch, remote in hand, groaning in frustration.

"Damn it, they just cut way from his-... hold on, let's see if they cut back before this ends. You have got to see this."

"Just what have I got to see?" Aimi asks, frowning, walking up behind Emi and absentmindedly tucking a bit of hair behind her daughter's ear. Emi sort of ducks-pulls away, rolling her eyes. "I'm almost to the bit where the ship sinks, Em."

"I know, I know, don't mess with your reading time but-... but look!"

Akio's eyes scan the TV, reading the chyron - the little moving headline at the bottom - that says MYSTERY BOY FALLS FROM BALCONY IN GOVERNOR'S MANSION - IN HOSPITAL WITH SERIOUS INJURIES - POLICE LOOKING FOR CLUES TO IDENTITY - GOV. BRANCH CLAIMS LEGAL PURCHASE FROM WRU - WRU DENIES CULPABILITY...

Talking heads banter back and forth about the seriousness of the scandal, the lack of documents to prove any kind of veracity to the governor's claims.

The anchors start interviewing a woman with short, dark red hair with a cold smile that sends a chill down Akio's spine. Karen Renford, WRU Representative to the Media, reads the little nameplate beneath her as she speaks.

"Since when do you care about politics?" Akio asks, head tilted. "This is stupid. I don't care about any of this."

"WRU sponsors your team, Aki-"

"It's not my team anymore. I'm going back to my room."

He turns to leave, but feels Emi grab at his wrist, and when he looks back her black eyes are pleading. "Please, Aki. Please. Trust me, you will want to see this."

He sighs. Everything feels too heavy to add one more thing to his days right now. But Emi is his little sister, and... "Yeah, okay." He moves around the corner of the sectional and flops himself down on it. He's put on some weight since he quit gymnastics, the waistband of his jeans digging just a little into his stomach where he used to have to wear a belt.

He doesn't care. It's... actually really nice to not have to care. He kind of likes himself better this way.

If only he didn't have to be grieving his best friend's death to get there-

"There!" Emi hisses, and her nails dig hard into Akio's forearm, hard enough for him to wince. "There, Aki, fucking look!"

"Language, young lady-" Aimi starts, and then falls silent. When she whispers, "Nantekotta..." That's when Akio looks at the screen.

Where his dead best friend is very much alive in a hospital bed.

He hears a thump and jumps, turning to see his mother's book on the floor, fallen from suddenly numb fingers as she stares unblinking at the boy on the TV screen.

Akio looks back and swallows, hard, and then swallows again. Inside him there is a sudden burst of fight between the despair and anger he's been living in and a kind of awful, horrifying hope.

"Tris?" He whispers.

"I told you!" Emi says, still holding his forearm painfully. He doesn't pull away from her - he can feel her starting to shake right alongside him. His eyes flood with hot tears and he has to blink them away to focus on the screen.

"-are speaking with the boy, who appears to be a legitimate WRU product. A simple barcode scan was performed, and police have the pet's designation, Facility number, and basic identification number." Karen Renford's voice speaks in voiceover. "However, WRU has been unable to find in our own records at the Facility any record of the boy's existence or training. WRU has strict ethical protocols surrounding the age of accepted trainees who apply, and it's increasingly clear that none of our Facilities would have taken on this individual, especially not our flagship Facility here in Berras-"

Akio hears none of this.

Instead, he hears only a rushing as loud as a waterfall filling his ears, the sound of his own blood pulsing through his veins as his breaths go shallow and gasping.

Tris is right there.

He's alive and he's right there.

He's sitting in a hospital bed, cringing back from the doctors speaking to him, looking at them with wide, terrified eyes. There are bruises around his neck like someone-... bit him, or something. His arms are bruised, wrists rubbed red in circles. He doesn't sway or rock or tap like Tristan Higgs, he sits perfectly, hauntingly still.

But it's Tris.

It's him.

"He's alive," Akio says, and his voice is strangled. "Tris is alive, he's alive, but he's-... he was-"

His mother's hand rests on his shoulder and Akio tenses at the firey rage he feels right through the tension in her fingers. "His aunt," Aimi says with a voice that cuts through bone. "His aunt told us he was dead."

"She said he-... you know... did the thing. To himself," Emi says, looking nervously sideways at Akio. "That he ran away and they found him."

"He told me she took away all his stuff and stopped giving him his meds and then she took his phone... why would she say all that if he was alive the whole time, Mom?" Akio looks back up at Aimi, and she looks back down at him.

He is terrified of her, in that moment. Scared of her the way you are scared of a bear rushing at you, knowing that you aren't much more than a matchstick in its way. But he also wants - needs - her to tell him everything is going to be fine.

Instead, she pulls her hand back off his arm and turns to leave the room. She murmurs to herself in a rapid-fire string of Japanese even Akio isn't quite keeping up with, and he jumps up to follow her, Emi on his heels.

"Mom? Mom, what are you doing? Mom, answer me-"

"Mom?"

They manage to catch up to her in the den, where she's picked up her cell phone still charging, plugged into the wall, and dialed a number.

"Mom-"

Aimi holds up one finger without looking at him, phone to her ear, and Akio's voice cuts off immediately.

"Yes, hello," She says to whoever picks up. "My name is Aimi Nakamura and I am calling about the boy found in the governor's mansion today. I believe I can tell you who he is." She pauses. "Who he really is."

Another pause.

"Yes, I'll wait."

Yet another pause. Akio and Emi stay in the doorway, staring at her in baffled confusion. Neither of them dares to speak when her face looks this way. They know better than that.

Finally, Aimi takes another breath. "Yes. Thank you. Hello, Detective... Davis. Right. My name is Aimi Nakamura." She rattles off her phone number and address when she is asked for them without hesitating. "Yes, as I said-... as I said to whoever answered the phone, I know who the boy in the governor's mansion is. I have absolutely no doubt... Yes. His real name is Tristan Paul Higgs. He was born-... oh, yes, sorry. I can slow down. His birthday is March 6th... yes. I don't know his social security number entirely but I know the last four digits were 6654... his mother and I were close friends. Veronica Botham Higgs - Ronnie. She was murdered, with her husband, it was a double-... oh, you remember? Tristan survived it. Custody went to his only surviving relative, Joanne Botham..."

Aimi swallows, and Akio feels Emi's hand seek his out and squeezes it tightly, reassuringly, as their mother's steel comes flashing to the surface underneath her usual deceptive tranquility.

"Joanne Botham works for WRU. Her nephew lost his family and was given to her. And now, more than a year after she told us he was dead, he falls out a window with a WRU barcode. I think you see where I'm going with this, detective."

Another long silence.

"Yes. I need about an hour and a half. Is that too long? Perfect."

She hangs up, and turns to look at Akio and his little sister. There is a startling brightness to her that makes Akio think she's feeling exactly what he is - grief and horror and rage and that awful swell of hope.

Maybe it really was just a horrible mistake.

Maybe he's never been dead.

Maybe he's still breathing.

"Put your shoes on," Aimi says in a flat voice. "We are going to meet Detective Davis at the hospital where Tris is."

[quirklessidiot]

Title: first meetings [ii. the small pink-haired boy] Genre: just angst, drama, romance, historical fiction Pairing: Sorcerer!Sukuna x gn!sorcerer!reader (heian era; pre-curse sukuna)

Synopsis: in which you befriend the slave boy you’re supposed to spy on.

Warnings: not canon stuff, future dark themes,, smoll manga spoilers, slavery, whipping, mentions of rape, language and violence Notes: im kinda back i guess skksks also these are pretty much random au’s of my own take of sukuna’s back story uwu, theyre arranged in no particular order and you can read them in any order. This started out as a random one shot and i couldnt get it out of my head lol ksksksks, def not canon btw but it is canon that sukuna used to be an all powerful sorcerer before he turned to the dark side or smthng.

lil dictionary: non-person-  usually what they called slaves during the heian era.

masterlist [for other parts] ;; taglist 

“That’s beautiful.”

Contrasting to your rather clean and prestigious appearance, the young boy was dressed in rags and had dirt painted on his face. You could tell by his uncommon red eyes that he didn’t want you here nor did he even want to be associated with you.

“...the boy is rather prideful.” your otosan recounted a few nights before, you’d usually have conversations like this since you were quite close with him and he did like to confide you with these things,“but he has spirit, he’d be good for a ward.”

“What are you doing here?” He spat, being a part of and the sole heir of your family meant you were also treated with dignity and respect, it seemed like this boy wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone, this made you grin wildly much to his disdain, “Oi, stop grinning like that. You’re creeping me the fuck out.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“And I don’t care.” 

“Has anyone told you that you’ve got quite the temper?”

“Well, has anyone told you that you’re being an annoying bitch?” he bit back, five minutes into your first meeting, this strange boy seemed to want to get furthest away from you. He seemed to be rather ignorant to his overflowing cursed energy, your father was right, this boy was definitely no joke. 

“That’s sad.” You pouted, “All I wanted to say was how beautiful that Kimono is.”

“I was at a store, looking for some clothes that best suited you when I saw a young boy of your age…” your otosan narrated, “Who had a rather high cursed energy, he seemed unaware with it. He works as an errand boy, I believe, he carries heavy clothes and silk… His looks are hard to miss Y/N, so I’m sure you won’t miss him...try to talk to him…”

The boy looks up to you, completely annoyed, “Well, you said it. Now fuck off, yeah?”

You chose to ignore him and just bend down to his level, you had no training for today so you might as well join the boy for a moment since you had time to kill, “You know, if you keep keeping that attitude up, you might scare the customers away.” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah?” he clicked his tongue, “Looks to me that you aren’t even here to buy anything.”

“He seemed rather…” Your otosan described, “perplexed...so you might as well go in my stead…”

“Ah.” your grin doesn’t seem to fade despite his rather rough way of speaking, “You just seemed around my age so I got interested.”

“No shit, now buzz off. I got no time for kids like you.”

He talks as if he was older than you, it’s no surprise. Boys like him tend to think they know quite a lot.

“Do you wish to tell me your name now?”

He was silent for a moment.

That’s when realization dawned upon you, why he seemed perplexed around your otosan, why he thinks you were an annoying buzz, and why he couldn’t reply when you asked for his name. You feel yourself inwardly cringe at your mistake, it seems like the boy your father took interest in is a slave with no name, “Twenty.” he mumbles, shrugging nonchalantly.

“What?”

“They call me twenty.” he recounts, his voice is still rough around the edges, remaining uncensored by his identity.

“Right…” you tilt your head, “Twenty…”

“You’ve got silks to bring to the next town, boy!” a loud voice calls out, cutting you short, making the pink-haired boy put the pretty kimono down and back for display. Without even sparing you a glance or a word, he retreats to the back and you’re left squatting there alone. You watch him from behind, specifically at the bandages that peeked through his wrists.

The boy had piqued your interest to the point that you made it your weekly agenda to visit him and a-some-nights agenda to watch over him. He still ignores you and seems to be annoyed by you every time but he doesn’t seem to be doing anything about it so you just sit there. 

You were also still in awe by how much raw energy he possessed, you’d ask your otosan if he knew any sorcerers with lost children because it surely seemed as if this boy wasn’t ordinary.

“Just keep an eye on him,” was all your father said as you watch the boy close up shop late at night from on top of a roof, “He might make a great sorcerer and shift the tides.”

Your otosan was not one for gambling on people but it seemed like he made a large bet on this boy. 

As usual, you’re watching over him close up. It’s late and the owner of the place walks out, a pipe on his lips. Right then and there, he slaps the pink-haired teenager right at the face, “You should’ve joined the customer awhile ago in the dressing room, boy.” he growls, “It would’ve been quick…”

You feel the negative energy emit stronger than ever and your grip on your knife is tight, “Don’t get involved, Y/N.” your otosan’s warning echoes in your head, yes your otosan may have been interested in him but he was never one to dwell in human affairs, saying they were annoying and a mess to clean up.

“...It seems like the lesson a few nights ago wasn’t enough.” you snap back to reality and watch his boss stretch out a whip with its pointy ends and you feel your blood run cold. 

‘Don’t get involved-’

You ignore your otosan’s words in your head and throw a stone right at a nearby sign, resulting in a booming clang, making the cat nearby yelp outloud. The pink-haired boy jumps on the spot and so does the older man at the sound.

“Ah fucking-” the older man curses, tucking the whip back in, “No food for you for three days. Know your fucking worth, non-person.”

Your grip on your nodachi lessens as you let out a sigh of relief, whatever legal terms your father must be talking about needs to be done quickly.

On the next day, you’re on your way to visit him again. Carrying the bento box that you know he’ll refuse again because of his ‘pride’ yet you stop dead on your tracks when you find his owner and an older man talking, Sukuna seems to be standing behind them, looking quite uncomfortable.

It didn’t take two and two to guess what was going on, the amount of cursed energy leaking on him was strong so you could only guess this was the man who wanted to get his way on him yesterday. Your nose crinkles in absolute disgust, “Don’t get involved-”

Once again, you ignore your otosan’s words.

“Hey!” You call out, you see his red eyes widen, “What are you doing?”

The older man frowns at your sudden appearance, “None of your business brat. Now go home-”

“I said,” You repeated, your voice dangerously low, “What are you doing to him?”

“He’s a non-person, kid.” his ‘owner’ growls, you notice his hands dangerously close to his whip, “A fucking slave in simpler terms, now get the fuck out before I beat him and you.”

“You don’t scare me.” Your eyes are narrowed, truthfully, no one ever scares you. You were the heir of your clan. It was to be expected and drilled since your curse energy manifested when you were five that fear would come last, “Now unhand the boy.”

“This bitch-”

“Now, now.” The other man smiles, cutting the pink-haired boy’s ‘owner’ off,  “Maybe I can take that young child with me too. After all, they seem to be good friends. Two is better than one…”

You watch the other older man snake an arm on the young boy’s shoulder and you could feel the fear leaking out, it was harder to mask and hide now. 

“Is it alright to put a little scar on’em? So that they’d know-” He gets ready to take out the whip while your fists are clenched, this would be easy. You could get away with this later, at least you’d take the boy away from this place and help him control his energy after. 

Yet before you’re able to land a blow, the pink-haired boy yells at you to move as his ‘owner’ takes out a whip to whip you.

For someone who didn’t seem to like your presence, he was rather quick to defend you, having his face get hit in the process by the sharp whip. Your eyes widen in surprise, “Ah, shit… Y/N, run!” he yells but you’re staring at his very bloody face.

It would obviously leave marks like the wrists and who knows which parts since he was always covered by that very loose raggedy kimono.

You clench your fists tightly and look up from his blood features, the ‘owner’ stops on his tracks when he meets your very cold gaze, “Do you know who you just messed with?” you asked, “You really think I won’t tell my otosan that you planned to make me your prostitute?”

“Y-Y/N, jesus christ just fucking run-” he tried to stutter out, any evidence of the prideful and strong boy who tried to shoo you away was now gone.

Yet like the stubborn child you are, you ignore him and instead take out your family seal and drop it in front of them, ignoring the pink-haired boy’s plea’s and watching the two men in front of you turn white as a ghost as they see the nameplate, “My name is Ryomen Y/N.” You stated, voice loud and clear, “And you better hope that I’ll let you out here dead or me and my otosan will hunt you down for the rest of your life.”

taglist [if your name is crossed out, i cant tag you!] @shinhiromi ;; @hcn421 ;; @airybnb ;; @coldbookworm ;; @kristineyoshaii ;; @frankenstein852​

@iguessimastannnow

[jungshookz]

the one where yoongi hates his therapist but kind of likes her receptionist; lveb!verse

➺ pairing; min yoongi x reader

➺ genre; lveb!universe equal parts emotionally constipated and cheeky yoongi!! the man of our dreams!! i don’t really know what to categorize this drabble as but it’s cute and it’s sfw <3 

➺ wordcount: 5k 

➺ summary; yoongi hates going to therapy - but you and your dumb little hershey kisses make it a tiny bit better, he supposes. 

➺ what to expect; “you like a man who’s unable to form emotional bonds with people, baby?”

➺ optional reading: not necessary but feel free to read la vie en bonsai just to get a feel for what yoongi’s like and why we’re all falling hopelessly in love with him!! 

                                          »»————-　♡　————-««

“see you next week, yoongi!”

“uh-huh, yep.” the smile on yoongi’s face drops as soon as he shuts the door behind him and he immediately rolls his eyes

well

that was an hour and a half of his life that could’ve gone towards something more productive

watching paint dry probably would’ve been more productive than whatever the hell that was

dr. i-don’t-have-chairs-but-i-have-beanbags basically spent the entire session asking him to list out things that he loved which he thought was going to be an easy task because he liked a lot of things!

and everything was easy peasy lemon squeezy until dr. glittery-purple-nameplate pointed out that yoongi kept saying that he ‘liked’ this and he ‘liked’ that and he’d never actually said he ‘loved’ anything once and then she went into the whole ‘why do you think you’re so scared of love?’ thing and his eyes rolled so far back into his skull that he actually saw his pink, wrinkly brain

he knows that she’s just doing her job but he’d really appreciate if one of his sessions with her just consisted of the two of them sitting in silence while scrolling through their phones

he even asked her one time if it’d be alright if they did that just so he could tell his friend (the one that sent him here) that he willingly sat through an entire session of therapy 

obviously she said no and yoongi resisted the urge to use that as an excuse to give her 1/5 stars on google reviews (unfortunately the option to give 0 stars isn’t available) 

it’s just really hard to believe that dr. are-you-more-comfortable-opening-up-to-my-homemade-handpuppet-rory-the-lion has 5/5 shining gold stars on basically every single one of her google reviews

yoongi should be happy that he’s going to one of the best therapists in the city but he’s noT because: he doesn’t even need therapy!

he doesn’t even know why he’s here!

he shouldn’t be in therapy!

he’s min frickin yoongi!!

what the hell does he need a therapist for??

what the hell does he need therapy for?!

he can literally solve his own problems

if he’s sad he just plays video games all day and also eats an entire pint of ice cream  

if he’s mad he just plays violent video games all day and aggressively shoves an entire pint of ice cream into his mouth

he’s spent his entire life coming up with different coping mechanisms for himself and he thinks that he has a pretty good grip on his emotions

the only one that he’s a little iffy about is obviously <3 love <3 but-

that’s not a big deal, is it?

yes, technically speaking, he’s “emotionally unavailable” or whatever, but he really doesn’t know why that’s such an issue

yes, the thought of committing to someone in a long-term relationship and the thought of saying “i love you” to someone makes him want to rip his skin off but again, he really doesn’t know why that’s such a big iSSUE

besides

emotional unavailability is sexy

whenever he tells someone that he’s incapable of loving and the sex we’re going to have in three seconds will be animalistic and primal and will also mean nothing to me whatsoever their underwear basically flies off their legs and out the window

so, again: what! is! the! big! problem!

the only reason why he’s here is because, as mentioned earlier, one of his friends set up an appointment for him because god knows he’s not here of his own accord

(also, she did it without asking him first, so he’s still a little upset with her, but she made him a whole batch of brownies as a form of an apology so now he’s a little less upset with her. just a little, though.)

he knows she means well and only wants the best for him but he’s starting to think that maybe she sent him here to torture him and not to help him

his original plan was to go for like one or two sessions and then end it there buT there’s just a teeny little detail he has yet to mention 

there is one (1) thing that keeps him coming back every week

he’d even go as far as to say that this thing is the only thing that motivates him to continue to waste his hard-earned money on these weekly appointments

and that thing is-

“yoongi!” your eyes light up and yoongi can’t help but smile at how excited you are to see him even though you literally saw him when he was checking in an hour and a half ago, “how was your session?”

“it was-”

“oh, wait!” you gasp before pressing a finger up against your lips, “i don’t know if i’m legally allowed to ask you that. pretend i didn’t said anything.”

“my session was fine-” yoongi ignores you as he folds his arms up on the counter and leans forward, “i’m still dead on the inside and the concept of love remains ever so terrifying, so… yeah! everything’s pretty much the same.”

“ah, yes.” you lean forward as well, “that’s exactly what every girl wants to hear.”

“oh yeah?” the corner of yoongi’s mouth twitches in a smirk, “you like a man who’s unable to form emotional bonds with people, baby?” he asks in a particularly sultry tone and you grin in response

“you gotta stop calling me that before i fully fall in love with you, yoongi-” you sigh dramatically before flittering your lashes at him and yoongi laughs lightly, “well, it is what it is. one day at a time, right?”

“baby steps.” yoongi hums and you nod in agreement before suddenly perking up

“hey- you want a kiss?”

another reason why yoongi enjoys your company is because you keep a little gumball machine on your desk

except you despise gumballs (you told him that on his very first day here when he asked you why there were no gumballs in what was obviously a mini gumball machine) so you filled it up with hershey’s chocolate kisses instead (you change the flavour of them every week! last week they were the milk chocolate almond ones)

“a kiss? from you?” yoongi digs his hands into his pockets, “at least let me put some chapstick on first, darling.”

“you know what i mean, yoongi.” you roll your eyes playfully before plopping the machine down in front of him, “they’re the cookies and creme ones this week!”

"mhm. whatever helps you sleep at night, y/n.”

                                                                  ♡

“see you next week, yoongi!”

“you got it, chief.” yoongi forces a smile before promptly shutting the door behind him

he lets out a huff before shaking his hair out of his eyes

somehow the hour and a half in there felt more like four hours and a half

he kept looking at the clock and whenever he thought that at least a good twenty minutes had gone by, it’d turn out that only like two and a half minutes had gone by!

he feels like maybe once the door is shut that time just ceases to exist

today he was forced to talk about all of the romantic relationships he’s ever had and that’s something that he’s never really discussed with… anyone, really.

not even his closest friends! 

yoongi’s had a multitude of flings but he’s been in three serious-ish relationships (yes, he knows that’s a huge surprise) - obviously none of them worked out because he’s now in therapy for his intimacy issues, but still

needless to say, they messed him up pretty bad

see, his problem was (and you probably wouldn’t be able to guess it after looking at him) the fact that he… fell in love too hard and way too fast.

his first one was in high school - he was pretty much ready to marry this girl and even gave her a promise ring to which she freaked out and broke up with him on the spot 

(she said she felt that it would be better if they broke up since they were both going off to different universities and long distance relationships were tough)

(on the same day they broke up she immediately changed her facebook status back to single which yoongi thought was a pretty icy thing to do)

his second one was in his first year of university (not very long after the high school breakup because that’s how desperate he was to fall in love again) and he wasn’t super sure if he loved this person or if he just wanted to fill the empty void inside of him bUT after two months of dating yoongi asked them if they wanted to move into the same dorm together for the second semester of first year - they said no. 

and then they broke up with him. 

and yoongi ended up with a single-person dorm, which was great!

:D because it meant no one could hear him crying himself to sleep at night worrying that he would never find true love and that no one would ever love him :D

and finally, with his last relationship, he told [unnamed person because yoongi would like to keep that private, thank you very much] that he loved them, like, two weeks after they’d started properly dating (they’d known each other for a year before getting together so yoongi didn’t think it was that weird. it’s not that weird, right??)

long story short, they didn’t say it back, and instead responded with: “oh! thank… you?” and that was a pretty devastating (and humiliating) blow for yoongi and it was after that breakup that he decided that things just had to change

he couldn’t be this person for the rest of his life!

this pathetic wimpy shrimPY little ‘<3 i love you <3’ weak-ass PUNK

eventually he figured that if he just turned all his emotions off, he wouldn’t run into anymore issues

it’s like that saying mo’ money mo’ problems except in this case it would be less emotions less problems

and he thinks it’s been working out pretty well for him so far!

he’s never gotten attached to any of his one-night stands (although he can’t say the same for them, because c’mon - he’s an absolute catch)

and he kind of takes pleasure knowing that they want to have something more with him when he doesn’t want anything at all

he likes playing with feelings

it’s like dangling a piece of candy over a little baby

it’s fun!

…does that make him a twisted individual? 

is he going to go to hell for being a little emotionally manipulative?

also he always finds himself snickering whenever one of his friends started talking about how much they love (gags) their significant others

even the one who sent him here - she just started dating someone in her apartment building - is fully in love with her significant other (he might even go as far to say it was love at first sight for the both of them (double gag)) and sometimes yoongi has to shove a croissant into her mouth just to get her to stop blabbing about how fond she is of her boyfriend

after all this time, yoongi has finally figured out that love is merely a concept

it’s not real!

it’s an idea. 

love is not real.

so, again - yoongi genuinely doesn’t see the issue with being emotionally unavailable. 

this isn’t just him being stubborn or anything - he literally cannot come up with one single reason as to why being emotionally constipated is such a bad thing 

real life constipation is pretty bad but emotional constipation is totally fine! 

emotions make everything that much more difficult and he doesn’t have the time nor the energy to deal with it

being emotionally unavailable makes life easy, breezy AND beautiful!

...

of course, there is the one slight issue that sometimes pops into his mind

is he okay with being like this for the rest of his life?

because if he is, he’s… literally going to die alone.

sure, his friends will be there (unless they die before him, in which case he’s actually going to be alone), but even yoongi has to admit that platonic companionship and romantic companionship are two entirely different things 

is he truly incapable of falling in love with someone? 

he... doesn’t like thinking about that

he prefers to keep those gloomy thoughts tucked away in the dusty basement of his brain

he’d much rather think about-

“yoongi!” you greet as enthusiastically as always as yoongi rounds the corner, “have fun today?”

fun?

in therapy?

that’s hilarious.

“fun? oh, yeah.” yoongi snorts as he folds his arms up on the countertop, “i even got to talk to rory today.”

the two of you exchange knowing glances and you snort before quickly reaching up to clap a hand over your mouth

hey! 

you’re supposed to be supportive of rory’s role in therapy!

he has a very important job

one might say that his job of providing emotional support is far more important that yours, you measly little receptionist

you make appointments all day but rory saves lives 

“well, i’m… glad that rory is helping you during these trying times.” you clear your throat as you straighten up in your seat

if you get caught making fun of rory you’re dead meat

“mhm.” yoongi nods before leaning over a little, “now gimme a kiss, babe.”

your heart skips a beat in your chest and you can’t help but grin when yoongi turns his head and points to his cheek, “well?”

“milk chocolate caramel this week, babe.” you hum as you place the little gumball machine in front of him

“ooh, yummy-“ yoongi’s eyes widen in excitement as he cranks the metal knob, “so, you got any plans tonight?”

a single kiss plops out and he opens up the little metal flap to take it out

“eh, i mean i guess i do?” you shift in your seat before shrugging, “sort of.”

yoongi raises a brow as he unwraps the tin foil, “what’s that supposed to mean? you got a hot date or something?”

“...yep!”

wait what

yoongi pauses right as he’s about to pop the chocolate into his mouth

because he was… just kidding about that

that was supposed to be a joke

“oh!” yoongi clears his throat, “well, who- who are you… who are you going out with? tell me about them.”

“oh, you don’t wanna-” you shake your head, “the details are boring, i promise it’s nothing to geek out over-”

“no, c’mon! tell me.” yoongi shoves the wrapping into his mouth as the chocolate melts over his tongue, “give me the deets.”

“alright, well…” you reach up to push your glasses up, “i actually met him at the club that he works at! he’s a bartender. we’ve gone out on a couple of dates and he’s really nice! he’s super nice, i just- i don’t know. i guess i just- there’s not much of a spark, you know? he’s taken me out four times and he kissed me on the last one and it was nice but… i don’t know. i’m not sure i even know where i’m going with this story- b-but he’s nice!”

yoongi nods slowly as he pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek

ah

well

good for you!

whatever

you’re going on a date and it’s whatever

it’s not like he cares

because if he cared it would imply that he has feelings for you

and in case it wasn’t already clear, yoongi is incapable of having any feelings at all because that’s just who he is

he’s spent years building his status as an emotionless android and he’s not going to let a stinky girl like you ruin it (you are not stinky. you smell like pears and it’s very pleasing to his nostrils. and he hates that he spent thirty minutes at the drugstore sniffing multiple shampoos until he found the one that he’s pretty sure is the one you use. and now his pillows smell like you.) 

“nice, nice…” yoongi mutters under his breath, “anyways, i should, um, probably go! i’m like, two minutes away from getting a parking ticket-” he laughs nervously before reaching up to scratch the back of his head

“oh! okay, yeah-” you take the gumball machine down and set it back down next to your monitor, “are you- is everything okay?”

yoongi’s no longer looking at you and you’re usually the first one to break eye contact so this is… odd  

“yeah, i just- i remembered i had a thing, so-” yoongi coughs into his fist, “yeah, i gotta go.”

“should i- should i put you down for next week, or-” you get up from your seat quickly when yoongi basically sprints towards the elevators

“yeah!” he flicks his wrist at you, “um, yeah- go for it. i’m just gonna-”

ding!

the elevator doors slide open and yoongi rushes in at the speed of light

“s-same time, or-”

the door glide shut before you get a chance to finish asking your question and you can’t help but feel a little… rejected?

even though you’re not entirely sure what it is you’re being rejected by

that was weird

that was weird, right?

it’s not just your imagination?

you frown to yourself as you plop back down on your squeaky chair

maybe your chocolates tasted funky or something?

you unwrap one for yourself before popping it into your mouth

…

no, the chocolates are fine!

what went wrong?

you chew on the inside of your cheek anxiously as you quickly go through what just happened

everything was fine

everything was normal up until the point you said you were going out on a date…

oOh, maybe you shouldn’t have brought up dates or anything like that

you don’t know too much about yoongi’s sessions besides the fact that he has intimacy issues but maybe the subject of dating was triggering for him?

damnit

you idiot!

this is why you could never be a therapist because you’d probably end up traumatizing your patients instead of helping them 

you should’ve just told yoongi that your plans tonight involved NO dating and it was just going to be you going to town on a pizza at home

it’s too bad

you were kind of hoping the reason why he started acting so weirdly was because he didn’t want you to go out on a date

here’s the thing: 

you… you sort of… have a little crush on yoongi. at least, you think you do.

you can’t help it!

he’s surprisingly very sweet and he has that boyish charm that you’re really into anD he’s also super goofy AND hello!!!! even when you’re not wearing your glasses you can see that he’s really attractive!!!

sometimes you find yourself daydreaming about that smirk of his 

it just makes you feel tingly 

...

what were you talking about again?

oh

right! 

you’re pretty sure the two of you use the same shampoo and you don’t want to be that person but... 

match made in heaven? 

you’d like to think so. 

you just don’t want to ruin this super fun and bantery and also kind of flirty relationship you have with him (though, now that you’re thinking about it, you can’t help but wonder if it’s actual flirting or if yoongi’s just doing his thing) and you knoW he’s definitely going to freak out if you’re suddenly like hey,.,. do u,.,. maybe wanna go out on a date or something.,,. because i think i have a teeny crush on you because even though you’re dead on the inside you are OBSCENELY charming and witty and attractive and everything i want in a significant other,.,.

yoongi would run for the hills if he ever found out you felt that way about him!

“good going, y/n.” you grumble to yourself as you lean back against your chair

well

you can worry about your yoongi-related issues later

you have a date with a cute bartender to get to

a cute, very nice bartender

                                                                 ♡

yoongi’s jealous.

at least, he thinks he’s jealous

this is weird, right?

because yoongi doesn’t get jealous!

he doesn’t get jealous over anything so whY does he not like the idea of you going out with someone who isn’t him?

yoongi squeezes his fingers tighter around his steering wheel as he stares ahead with knitted brows

he left the office like half an hour ago and now he’s just been sitting in his car in silence

and before you ask, yes, there was a parking ticket tucked behind his windshield wiper when he came down here

“jealous, jealous…” yoongi mutters to himself before shaking his head and letting out a huff, “no. i’m not jealous. i’m not!”

he’s not jealous because he doesn’t like you!

he doesn’t!

he likes flirting with you, it doesn’t mean that he likes you

of course, if he didn’t like you… he wouldn’t be grinning like an idiot every time you greet him

if he didn’t like you, he would’ve called you out on your lame ‘you want a kiss?’ joke a long, lonG time ago - instead he just lets you keep saying it because he knows you like making the same joke over and over again

if he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t be coming back to therapy every week, for crying out loud

if he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t have bought pear-scented shampoo for himself

he should be buying manly shampoos!

like… winter breeze!

or… musky oak??

or diRTy monster truck??!? (he’s not sure if that’s an actual shampoo scent for men, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was)

you know, those kinds of scents!

not frickin pear

yoongi pauses when he realises that he actually doesn’t mind the thought of waking up next to you

he feels his heart skip a beat and he gasps in surprise before quickly slapping his hand up against his chest

oh god

it’s happening!

“…son of a bitch!” yoongi groans as he slams his head back against the headrest, “are you kidding me?!”

he’s feeling!

NO!!!!

that, or he’s having a heart attack

(he’d rather have the heart attack.)

yoongi turns his head right as you exit the building and he doesn’t know where these emotions are coming from but all of a sudden he’s being flooded with what can only be describe as…

pure, blinding rage

“what the hell did you put in those damn chocolates?!” yoongi slams the car door behind him and you practically leap ten feet into the air

“i have no money in my wallet i only have a starbucks gift card and it has like three dollars left on- oh.” you immediately relax when you realize that you’re not about to be robbed

it’s just yoongi 

your eyes widen in slight fear when you see him storm his way over to you with his fists clenched at his sides looking like he wants to skin you alive

“you are unbelievable.”

“me??” you shake your head in confusion, “yoongi, what are you-” you pause to glance down at your watch, “why are you still here? you left, like, forty minutes ago-”

“answer the question, y/n!“ yoongi crosses his arms, “you did something to those chocolates! that’s the only reason why i’m feeling like this-”

“what- i don’t- is it your stomach or something?? maybe you’re lactose intolerant-”

“nO, i don’t mean i physically feel something-“ yoongi looks around before leaning in, “i’m feeling something.”

you frown

“yoongi, the chocolates aren’t special chocolates, if that’s what you’re implying. there are kids that come to the office, i can’t go around giving out marijuana infused hershey kisses-”

“i don’t want you to go out with your nice bartender guy!” yoongi blurts out, “because i… i want you to go out with me instead.”

you pull back in surprise before tilting your head curiously

…what?

“what do you- what are- what?” you ask incredulously before narrowing your eyes at him

did he just... ask you out?

yoongi swallows nervously

his pure rage has now been replaced by pure anxiety

“i’m saying that i-” yoongi shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “i’m- i wanna be the one to take you out. o-on a date. or whatever they’re called.”

“you wanna take me out on a date?” you ask dumbly and yoongi rolls his eyes

“a.. i mean i guess it’s technically a da..ate...” yoongi’s mouth goes dry and you can see the panic quickly filling his pretty brown eyes 

“we don’t- we don’t have to call it a date!” you perk up, “we can just... we can call it a... flirty hangout!” 

“a flirty hangout?”

“a flangout.”

“a flangout.”

yoongi takes a second to think it over

a flangout

yeah!

he can do a flangout because a flangout is noT a date 

“i’m sorry, i just-” you wave a hand in front of yourself, “i thought your whole schtick was that you didn’t believe in dates- flangouts- and ooey-gooey holding hands related situations, so why would you wanna-”

“because i like you!” yoongi groans before looking away from you and running a hand through his hair, “i think? i don’t know, okay? i know that i’m definitely attracted to- i just- you make me- i like talking to you after my sessions are over, and i like that you keep a gumball machine on your desk even though it still doesn’t make sense to me that you’ve filled it with kisses and not with actual gumballs, and i like that even though you know i, professionally speaking, have very intense intimacy issues, i-i like that you don’t judge me for it...” he trails off before letting out a breath and turning back to face you, “you can say no, obviously, but… i just think you’re really pretty and i think you know exactly what you’re doing whenever you ask me if i want a kiss.”  

you blink owlishly at yoongi and he immediately feels like he’s about to projectile vomit everywhere

see??

this is exactly what he means when he says that feelings make literally everything ten times more complicated

he just told you that he likes you and now he just made things awkward!

which means noW he has to go find a new therapist-

wait, no

nope! he’s not going to find another therapist - he’s just going to noT go to therapy

why?

because min frickin’ yoongi doesn’t need therapy-

“i do.” yoongi looks at you with wide eyes when you suddenly speak up

you do

did… did he PROPOSE to you?!

great!!

of course he did!!

his feelings are back and they’re even worse than before-

“i do know exactly what i’m doing whenever i ask you if you wanna kiss-“ you hold up a finger to correct yourself, “if you want a kiss.”

“i’m happy with either one of those options-“

“there is one minor issue, though.” you turn your phone around to show yoongi, “what am i supposed to tell sweet tae?”

“who the hell is tae- ohhhh, bartender guy.” yoongi winces as he glances at your texts briefly, “i forgot about him.”

“nice bartender guy!!” you push your bottom lip out in a pout as you scroll through your texts with taehyung

:-(

his last message to you was ‘excited for tonight!! see you soon :-)’

:-(((((((

“do you… do you genuinely like him?” yoongi asks cautiously

“i mean, i- i don’t noT like him, you know?” you sigh and reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “it’s just that… he’s so nice-”

“okay, i think we’ve got that part covered-”

“i don’t wanna break his heart!!” you whine, “what do i do?!”

“alright, here’s what you’re going to do-” yoongi clears his throat, “you go out with him tonight-”

“but i don’t want to lead him o-” 

“you go out with nice bartender tae tonight to tell him that it’s over. and you tell him that you’ve really enjoying spending time with him, but you feel like the two of you would be better off as friends. it’s simple, it’s clean, it’s straight to the point! no harm, no foul.” yoongi dusts his hands off before smiling proudly, “and then i’ll take you to the mcdonalds drive-thru for dessert.”

“i mean, i guess so…” you purse your lips in thought, “should i, like… if he kisses me or something, should i kiss him back?”

“you’re going to pity-kiss him?” yoongi gasps dramatically before tutting at you, “wow. and i’m the one in therapy.”

“wha-”

“now, c’mon-” yoongi places his hand on the small of your back as he leads you towards his car, “let me drive you to your gross date so that we can go on our cool flangout afterwards-”

“you know, they’re doing a limited edition chips ahoy mcflurry right now-“ you grin excitedly as yoongi opens the door for you, “you wanna split one with me?”

“split one?” yoongi scoffs and bends down a little so he can look you directly in the eye, the corner of his mouth curling upwards in a teasing smirk, “baby, i’ll get you your very own mcflurry-”

(it turns out that taehyung actually planned to end things tonight, too - he said if you ever made your way back to his bar he’d give you a cocktail on the house! so, it looks like you can have your cake and eat it too.) 

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

[noisydiary]

sometimes the sound of breathing in the night is what one needs to calm an anxiety they can't shake...

>\\Entry.Log.03-28-2733:[Dropship Barracks, 03:23, 05:37:22 until drop.]

Care to explain yourself? 

Ash’s voice echoed in their collective mind as Leigh held the reigns, metallic footsteps breaking the silence of the dropship’s halls. She passed by door after door, glancing at each as she passed. Each door had its own nameplate, each with its owner's callsign on it. Temporary lodgings for the night before a match, and a place for recuperation afterwards. She paused once she reached the door she was looking for, before verifying the label. 

Not really. Leigh responded, procuring a small kit from her pockets.

And if I were to stop you? 

Leigh scoffed at that, hands pulling out a small wrench and saw rake from the kit as she knelt before the door, You can try.

The moment Leigh taunted Ash, she received her delightful reminder that their body was not hers, as their hands dropped the tools and an audible glitch escaped them. Ash snarked in response, I let you get this far. I don’t intend to let you get further. 

Wonderful… Leigh let off a small huff, before she spoke up, Let me have this? I’ll make you a trade.

Oh? What do you have to trade, virus? 

Leigh took a beat, before she responded, Let me do this, and- I won’t fight you tomorrow. Prove yourself to be ‘perfection’ without me. 

…She lied through her (non-existent) teeth, knowing if she actually gave up fighting, it would likely be the end of them both. However, Ash let the offer sit for a moment, before going quiet, and control returned to Leigh, I look forward to your silence. 

Leigh took a moment to regain her control formally, and looked down towards the ground, picking up the tools they’d dropped. She repositioned herself in front of the door’s lock afterwards, and made quick work of the installed lock. With the lock undone, she replaced her tools and stood, carefully turning the handle and pressing open the door. 

Rationally, all movement equals sound. The door with its hinges caused a creak to escape into the room before Leigh, along with the soft whirr of each piece of her simulacrum moving. As such, before Leigh could see into the room, she could hear the occupant shift as they woke ever so slightly. She paused, letting the sound settle, before she stepped into the room and shut the door. 

Another rustle escaped the occupant, though was disregarded, seemingly. Leigh waited another moment, allowing her mind to adjust to the darkness in comparison to the hallway. The room was not completely dark, as a lot of the natural light from outside the dropship faded in through the large window at the back of the room. Beneath the window stood a bed, in which the room’s occupant lay, relatively sound asleep…

Leigh minded that as she stepped into the room, mindful of each step so as not to step too quickly. Each step was calculated so as not to step on strewn paperwork, or any number of things left about. She really should tidy up her work…

Eventually, Leigh made her way to the head of the bed, in which she could better see the occupant- who’s light snores could only be heard that closely. Leigh sat at the steps of the bed, and let herself grow more comfortable as she watched, the light of the moon and stars bright enough now to see all of the resting woman. 

She seemed calm, as far as Leigh could tell. She’d wrapped herself in her blankets, holding around a bundle in her arms, and her legs had twisted themselves around the ends of the covers. Her head remained out of the blanket cocoon she’d made for herself… Her breathing was even, steady- for the most part anyway. At times, she’d hitch her breath, and it would catch for a spell before she let it out. Her eyes were moving, so likely falling back into REM or light sleep. 

Leigh took in further details, noting the smaller things she hadn’t really looked at in a long while. Soft, yet oily red hair, tussled from her tossing and turning- that and likely her forgetfulness to take a shower… Her actual face seemed more worn than usual, as her eyes showed bags underneath, areas pulling more than she’d probably like. Her warm skin seemed duller than usual, likely from not actually going outside to see the sun in a few days. The match in the morning would help with that, but still. As much as she enjoys the giant window, she never really left in the daytime. 

It is odd that she isn’t awake at this hour. She’s… mostly productive now, in the late hours. Even back with… Well. Back then- she was always more active in the night. He was like that too, wasn’t he? 

Leigh pulled back with that thought, her eyes drifting off. No- was he? She couldn’t remember now. Nor did it matter. She wasn’t here for memories. She… wasn’t exactly here for any real reason, was she? None valid enough to break in for. And yet, here she was, sitting on the steps to a bed of someone who couldn’t stand her. 

Watching, and taking in what isn’t given. Taking her breathing, knowing her pulse- knowing she’s  okay. That she’s alive, and she’s still as determined as ever…  Leigh spent the next few hours there, anyway. Stealing the quiet moments. Ask her why, and she couldn’t tell you, or at least, wouldn’t. There was something to it, this action of sitting there and watching- it eased her mind. A comfort she couldn’t perfectly say out loud, but knew it helped some sort of aching she’d been carrying for a long, long time. ☾ | future thalily here! i said it on my twitter after this was posted, but i'm saying it along with this post to make sure it's noted; i know the rooms on the dropship aren't really 'room's, and therefore don't have doors. i'm not changing it for this post cause i still like the vibe and honestly i'm really lazy. anyways! i am aware, and i'm sorry in retrospect.

[wornoutmouse]

@midoriyaprofessionalslut

I can't even begin to describe the ask I received so I'm just going to leave screenshots😅😅

Also in the new mha season, I thought Tsu was being petty when she called Mineta Grape-Juice and Shoji Tentacle. But nope, those are their hero names.

Side note: I feel like when Mineta gets old and knows how to work his quirk better, he'll be able to control if they stick or not.

Slight racism, usual smut.

NOT PROOF READ SO LET ME KNOW IF U SEE SOMETHING

 If you imagine Mineta as in the picture above and with a mature voice, this is more enjoyable. Or you can imagine someone else entirely.. Cause even as someone who's tolerant to Mineta I can't imagine him getting any hoes much less smashing (at least not on top). It would be like watching a chiwawa top a mastiff. 

"This is some bullshit." You shuffle through various papers on your desk, each containing the receipts of Pro-Hero Grapejuice's celebratory purchases. Most of it was random appliances that could in no way be used on a day-to-day basis, but there were others….a shiver goes down your spine, there were others that were just downright perverted. "What even is a nub tickler?" 

Being an accountant was something you were good at, the numbers came easy and it was interesting to see the income and ways of business that different people in power displayed. Planning meetings and getting the occasional phone call made everything a breeze, but it wasn't what you wanted to do. Or in better words, this was not whom you wanted to work for. Even being number 6 causes the workload to be higher than should be physically possible in the hero world. That's one of the reasons you never gave praise to the rankings because no matter how low in the chain, a hero’s work is always taxing. 

Shifting in your seat you look at the analog clock on your desk. 3:45, you were supposed to come to work at 5:30 which means you once again have no time to sleep. Having these late nights had increased 10 fold whenever Mineta went up in rank even by a little. His way of celebrating was spending his money carelessly and leaving you to fix the balance. Though you supposed it may be your fault for never objecting when he barged in your office showing his trinkets as well as leaving his credit card.

"Yeah, it's time to go." You muttered as you read the words, "Dwarf Cow in the left lot of Wisconsin."

 The next hour, you take a detour from your office for the first time in months. Heading down the hall you watch the walls go from the pale greys to deep purple and violet splotches splattered along the wall before it inevitably melds into solid purple walls as you get closer to the front door of his office.

Hesitantly you knock on the door and wait until a muffled "Come in." Rings through the thick wood. The room itself was just as flamboyant as the walls leading to it. A beautiful fuchsia carpet on the floor made you realize that calling in your two weeks would have been better than walking into the Willy-Wonka factory that was this office. Various spherical decorations hung from the chandelier, and even something as simple as the legs of his desk was made up of crystal spheres.

The man himself sat perfectly balanced on a large purple ball most likely of his own creation, meanwhile, various children sat around him slipping and sliding on smaller balls in an attempt to copy him. "Ah, here is my beautiful assistant!" The compliment made you cringe as you fiddled with the end of the sleep-wrinkled white blouse you had worn for 2 days straight. "Can we talk sir? It is important." Mineta raised an eyebrow at your formal speech before shrugging. 

In an extravagant display of balance, Mineta does a handstand on the ball with one hand before flipping to the other side. "Well kids it's time for me to get done as a hero’s job is never over and blah blah blah the gift shop is giving out free plushies and you can keep your ball." The teacher does her best to usher out her students and the sound of childish screams resound down the hallway even though the door was shut. "How can I help you Y/n?" Mineta offers you his ball to sit on and you reluctantly take the offer as you grate in multiple directions in order to stay afloat. 

Mineta watches you with hidden interest as he interlocks his hands underneath his chin. "I didn't know you even knew my name?" Mineta Laughs exposing his annoyingly perfect teeth. It was hard to associate this face to the pictures you see when you search for his early years. "Of course I know your name, I stole your nameplate off your desk 2 months ago." Ah, so that's where it went  "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

You sighed, "I would like to put in my two weeks." Mineta goes slack-jawed before composing himself "Why?" Mineta looked at you earnestly, completely confused on why you'd want to abandon your post as his secretary- I mean assistant. "Working for you has become a hassle with your lack of financial maturity." Mineta mock shivers, "Oo big words, me no likey." Mineta hops onto his desk as if he weighed nothing more than paper and squats in front of you, "How about this, you don't quit and instead help me learn how to...how did you say it? Be financially mature." You lean back in your chair unconvinced that he was taking this seriously.

With the final nail ready to be hit, Mineta adds, "How about I give you a raise of 10 percent and a promotion?" You stand up in your chair with an eager grin, "That sounds great!" Mineta smirks to himself but you did not pay any mind to it. "Great, how about we discuss this over food, dinner date?" Your internal celebration screeches to a halt, " Dinner Date-" Mineta looks at you shocked, "Dinner date? Great idea, why didn't I think of it myself!?" A firm hand slides you towards the door as Mineta starts a complimentary speech giving you no room to object, "This is why I need you, you're so smart, I wish I was like you, tomorrow at 11?" You sputter trying to slip past his arms, "11 but I-?!" Mineta loudly gasps again, "There you go doing it again I'm so lucky to have you, tomorrow at 11 my treat!"

The door is shut in your face and the sound of the lock clicking seals your fate. What did you get into?

Cut to 4 years later and you are still not sure of that answer. Simply being bis accountant you had a glimpse of his perverted tendencies, but as his girlfriend, it was further exposed to depths you never could have found yourself imagining. You shuffle papers in the printing room as you do your best to ignore the faint tingling sensation in between your legs. Yet another whim you found yourself following on Mineta’s behalf despite the ever-present fear of being caught. The vibrator comes to life before going back down as quickly as it came. You toss a middle finger to the camera in the top corner of the room knowing he was watching.

"Miss L/n, can I ask you something?" You slap your arm down to your side in embarrassment. I hope he didn't see that.  Your coworker walks up to you holding a small stack of papers. "Yes, how can I help you?" The man shows you various forms as he talks, for once you were thankful for Mineta not embarrassing you in front of others. "Oh I see where you went wrong, this right here would be a 20% increase, not 18%." The man applauded you and graciously wrote down your explanation. "Thank you so much, my name is Kaminari by the way." 

"Ah hello, Kaminari, and no worries I'm always glad to help!" You turn back as your papers finally scan through but can't help notice Kaminari lingering. "Say Y/n?" You open your mouth to respond only to close it again as the vibratory comes back to life strongly. "Hmmm?!" Kaminari peers at you, your reaction was strange but he couldn't figure out why. "Um, never mind, have a nice day Miss. Y/n, maybe we can get together over coffee or something?” You shrug turning away from Kaminari in fear of your eyes rolling up. The man sways from foot to foot awkwardly before leaving the printing room. 

Snapping out of your personal flashback, you look over at your fiance signing autographs for his adoring and objectively feminine fan base. While it was extremely unnerving how unknowingly close they were to your home, you weren't resentful of their gushing.

Your engagement and your overall relationship had not been made public in fear of your personal life being exploited by paparazzi. That doesn't mean, however, the next thing you witness doesn't get your blood boiling.

A girl, no older than maybe 22 waltzes up to Mineta with the confidence of Muhammad Ali in a ring match. Her raven black hair fell flawlessly down her back with not a single split end. Almond eyes decorated with precise coal blink rapidly to draw attention to her seemingly natural eyelashes. With 4 inch wedges. a black halter top, and cuffed jean shorts, it was clear she was someone on a mission. She effortlessly pushes past the nearby fans as they stop to quack at her rivaling beauty. A smirk draws itself with her soft pink lips as she hears people muttering around and about her.

"Wow she's so pretty"

"They would look good together just look at them."

"Ugh, such an attention whore, not giving the rest of us a chance!"

"I bet a 20 she's his type."

"Is she famous?"

The chatter comes to a close as the girl hands Mineta a notebook, "Can you sign right here?" Mineta flips open the book and his eyes widen a fraction before he puts on his heroic voice, "Wow it looks like you got all of Japan's heroes in this book!" The girl smiles as she watches Mineta scratch his signature, "Don't be afraid to leave your number in there too Mr. Minoru." Mineta pauses at the statement for continuing his elaborate handwriting, "I don't think that would be very plus ultra of me so I'm gonna have to pass." Smug pride fills your chest as you watch the annoyance cross the girl's face.

Mineta finishes signing and hands her back her book, she, in turn, forces a small piece of paper in his hand before holding his chin and kissing him. At that moment nothing else mattered but beating that bitches ass as you yanked her black hair and dragged her to the ground. "This ain’t Wattpad bitch get your hands off of him!!" You turn to Mineta making him flinch with a sharp glare as you yank her hair again, hopefully pulling a few strands out. "You just gonna let her kiss you and not do anything!?" Mineta stretched his hands towards you cautiously, "Y/n calm down, if you would have given me a chance I would have settled it-" "No, settle it now!"

Your rage is diminished by the judgmental looks coming from the fans and you realize your brazen display was out of order.

"Who is she"

"I think she's the secretary l, so why is she so mad"

"Delusional just cause you're with him all the time doesn't mean you're together"

"I hope he fires her."

"This is why we shouldn't let them in Japan"

The girl whose hair you have in a chokehold stands up unbalanced before pushing your hands from her hair. Satisfied at the disheveled look of her previously perfect strands, you turn to walk back to Mineta, your anger having been sated, "Black Bitch." You turn around and go charging towards the girl again grinning when she flinches. Your rampage is stopped as Mineta wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up, "Sorry for the disturbance, we deeply apologize!"

It's almost comical how your mouth spews vulgarity that would make a sailor blush as Mineta drags you behind your apartment building. He ushers you through the back door leading to the washroom, "I can't believe she'd do that in front of me, and you let her!" Mineta shuts the door quietly, leaning his ear against it to listen out for any lingering fans. You sit on top of a washer still ranting as your blood cools down. "The nerve of some of these people is outrageous, even if she doesn't know about us that is still sexual harassment!"

Mineta doesn't look at you and instead peeks through the blinds lining the washroom windows. "I think they are gone, come on." The two of you sneak out the door and walk at a moderate speed all the way back to your front door. In hindsight, you knew that causing a scene like that was a bold move on your part. If anyone was recording the whole ordeal you knew Mineta’s name and possibly yours would be in the headlines by later this evening. 

As the last one entering, you lock the door behind you, forehead scrunched together with apprehension. "Mineta I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me. I just saw her touching you and saw red." You face away from the door with an earnest look on your face. Mineta has a cheeky look on his face that can only mean trouble. Despite your similar slim build and height, Mineta easily corners you against the door. "I know exactly what got into you." Mineta’s pointer finger taps your nose. "Jealousy."

You sighed, putting your head down nodding, "Yeah, it's not that I don't trust you, it's just-" "shhh." Mineta lips your head back up with a hand under your chin. "It's fine Y/n. It's not like I expected a perfect little cocksleeve like you to be okay with sharing." You stare blinkingly at Mineta. 'Oh, he's in one of those moods huh?' As expected from such a fiend like Mineta, he was quite possibly hard the whole time he was watching you beat that girl's ass, and for some reason that irked you even more. “Mineta I’m being serious.” The words leaving your mouth did not phase Mineta, he holds your hips and pulls you close to him in order for you to feel his bulge. 

“Oh come on, after seeing you be so possessive for me, how can you not expect me to be a lil turned on?” Mineta’s hands circle your ass before slapping it, “Made me feel special.” Rolling your eyes you lean into the lingering kisses he begins to leave on your shoulder. His grip tightens as he shuffles you to the nearest surface. “Makes me feel all giddy inside to know that you do this only for me and no one else.” Minoru unbuttons your dress pants and removes your belt, “But doing that in front of all those people was stupid.” A shiver travels up your arms from the feeling of lips caressing your ear. Mineta dips his hand into your cotton panties and immediately draws attention to your clit.

“Look at me, Mineta Minoru with a girl like you that would fight for me. Who would have thought?” You ball your fists on the table, hanging your head low. “You’re not going to make this easy for me are you?” Mineta slips his other hand beneath your blouse to cup your breasts. Short l  rub down your slit collecting your slick. The feeling was warm and buzzing just underneath your skin, the bastard was well trained on how to slowly but surely bring your pleasure to its peak and hold you there. Your muscles begin to feel more and more like jelly, you sigh “Oh God..” Mineta pushed his body further on yours, rutting against your body. Up until now, his other hand was simply resting on your skin but once impatience overcame him, he used it to pull down your pants. 

“You know this will be in articles tomorrow right?” Two fingers curl inside of you making you squeal, “Y-Yes!” Something hard and slick smacks against your bare ass as Mineta removes the bottom half of his hero costume. “So how are you going to compensate me for what I’ll have to deal with tomorrow?” You turn your head to the back with a small pout on your face, “She shouldn’t have touched you.” Mineta coyly smiles before pressing your head down against the table. “You should have let me handle it.” 

Mineta was an average of 5 inches in length with conservative girth. But so far he’s been the only man that really added proof that size doesn’t matter. Mineta pulls away from you and leans down to riffle through his pants. You hear a crisp pop of a cap being opened and a slick splatter is heard afterward. A shaky breath leaves Mineta’s lips as he lubes his cock up. Penetrating is a struggle at first, the longer it takes for him to push it in the more both of you become frustrated until he finally pulls your waist back against himself. “S-So good!” The pleasure causes his childhood lisp to slip through as he waits for you to acclimate to the stretch. 

You shift your feet when Mineta refrains from moving. "Tsk, you really don't understand the meaning of patience do you?" Your hands suddenly become cool to the touch as Mineta covers them with medium sized spheres temporarily gluing you to the table. "Mineta this isn't fair! Please just a little bit to the left!" Now having you helpless Mineta puts one hand on your back while stroking the base of his cock. "It's not about being fair, it is about teaching a sneaky brat like you to know their place." Mineta begins to move but it's not right, he needs to go more to the left, "Mineta what are you even talking about!?!" 

A sigh leaves Mineta's lips, "Don't think I forgot about that slick shit you tried to pull with Kaminari." Mineta watches your ad shake and bounce everytime your hips meet. Your arms twitch and pull at themselves wanting to find purchase on the flat surface. Groans leave your lips as Mineta comes closer to hitting your spot,  "Slick shit?! Y-You're the one that wanted to do that stupid little piano in the first place!" You couldn't see it but Mineta had a deep seated glare on his face. He loops his fingers underneath his yellow scarf and rolls it around long ways. 

"I'm really tierd of your mouth. What you think because I let you beat that girl out their I'll let you beat me?" The middle of the scarf is put in your mouth and your head is pulled back by it. Mineta holds both ends of the scarf to slam into your cunt. "Just a greedy little bitch aren't you?" You scream into the cloth as Minetas cock finally hits your spot just right. The constant pulling on the corner of your mouth burned everytime the fabric rubbed against the sensitive flesh. Your feet rise to your toes in a fruitless attempt at getting a break from the pleasure. Mineta holds his scarf in one hand and pushes down your waist. "Didnt you want this? Don't run from it now."

Your pussy squelched around his cock the faster he went making you go cross eyed. "Fuck you feel so damn good.  The table rattled and scraped across the floor with every thrust. "oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Your nails scraped the table as you closed your fist, had you had claws it would have been a whole different story. You beared down on his cock, trying, begging to feel more inside of your walls as he moved faster. Suddenly your argument fel worth it.

Mineta knew many things about himself. He knew his birthday, he knew where he was in life, and he knew he had come 6 minutes ago and was bordering hysteria as he pumped his overestimated cock into your wet heat. Each drag made years collect in his eyes.  Tiny whimpers left his lips and his hands squeezed your sides harder and hard.  "So fucking warm. Squeezing down on my dick like that." 

He bowed his head and rested on your back,  kissing the sweaty skin as he pushed through the painful pleasure.  "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Mineta slaps your ass  before pulling out and shoving his fingers inside your pussy. "Cum for me, Y/n. That's it cum on my hands." Mineta's fingers were the only thing that never really grew on him. They were relatively short but thick so even three of them were able to stretch your hole the way you needed. 

"Y-Yes, right there shit!" Your cum drips down his arm soiling the fabric there as you squint around him, "That's it give it to me." Mineta buried his face in your pussy licking you clean like a man starved. It wasn't until you whined did he stop and pull his fingers out. 

Luckily for you, his spheres were just about coming close to their time constraint. You stand up rubbing your wrists and drinking some water Mineta brings you. A snort captures your attention and Mineta holds up his phone, "Not even an hour." Writing in thick bold words read. 

"Obsessive Secretary Snaps on Camera!"

You snort, "I'm the obsessive one huh?" It was going to be a long day tomorrow 

[fuchsiagrasshopper]

The Olive Branch

Author's note: Here is a modern AU one-shot I wrote for @maggiescarborough 400 follower challenge. My prompt was breaking up. Congratulations hun and thanks for letting me take part! It was something completely different for me to write and I hope everyone enjoys!

Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar x Fem:reader

Word count: 3400

Warnings: Angst, language

Your relationship with Ivar had run its course. You had known it was over the moment you overheard him talking about you in his office to his brother. What had begun as a sweet gesture to surprise your boyfriend for lunch had ended with you sneaking back out the building before he could find out you had been there. You still didn't remember most of that escape, as you had been too busy forcing yourself not to cry or scream from hurt.

It was a Tuesday, and you were fortunate enough to have a day off from work. You decided to be spontaneous, picking up soup from your favorite deli to surprise Ivar with for lunch. His job didn't always allow him the time or luxury to stop to eat, but today you would make sure he was looked after.

You and Ivar had been seeing each other for nearly six months, and you felt that in that stretch of time you had made it past any difficult hurdles that could turn a relationship sour. It wasn't perfect, but little arguments and disagreements had to be weathered in any relationship, and you got to a point where you were both comfortable with each other's faults and tendencies. When you had met one another's families without hassle, you figured that was as good a sign as any that this was something special.

You didn't go to his place of work often, but you knew your way around well enough to find his office. He worked for his family's exporting company, a numbers game that consisted of suits and ties, and corporate gatherings. Ivar had once described them to you as ass-kissing at the highest level, and after attending a few black-tie affairs by his side you understood his point.

You made your way down the brightly lit corridor that was all freshly polished floors and heavy oak doors with gold inlaid nameplates. The designer of the office had spared no expense on the finishes, and you felt underdressed compared to the expensive attire of the workers.

As you rounded the corner to Ivar's office you could see his door was ajar. He was speaking with someone, and as you neared you recognized Ubbe's voice. It didn't sound like work talk, it sounded more like Ubbe was discussing his family. You were about to walk in to interrupt when your name was suddenly brought up.

"So, how are things going with (Y/N)?" Ubbe asked.

There was a long pause before Ivar answered, and that filled you with dread. "Okay, I guess."

"You guess? I thought things were going great."

You understood Ubbe's point. You thought things were working out well between you two.

"I don't know. Recently I've been feeling that it's run its course between us. I don't think there's a future there."

Your heart was in your throat, and you thought you were going to be sick. Ivar could be distant, but you had no idea he was at the end of his rope when it came to your relationship.

"Really? Ubbe sounded as confused as you felt. "What brought this on?"

"It's whenever we do something in a social setting. She's not a bad girlfriend, but she's too shy for any of my work functions, and she isn't spontaneous enough."

"Right, as opposed to Freydis?" You heard the crunch of leather as Ubbe took a seat. "You're still hung up on her."

"I can't help it," Ivar shot back. "She was perfect for me. She fit in with my lifestyle. (Y/N)'s a good person, but she's too simple. I'm...bored when I'm with her."

A good person. Those were the only kind words he had to say about you, after dating for months. You knew about his relationship with Freydis in little detail, and only that they had broken up because she moved away for work. Maybe he should have gone with her. You were feeling bitter and used, and you couldn't listen to any more of the disparagement. You even felt guilty about eavesdropping, but you wondered how much longer he planned on keeping this from you if he was so miserable.

Your feet started in the opposite direction, reaching the elevator with your head down and the lunch you had brought hanging loosely in your grasp. Your breathing had turned labored in your attempt to keep the tears at bay, and you kept pressing the button to shut the double doors before you were forced to endure a long ride down to the lobby in the company of one of Ivar's coworkers.

The moment you were on the ground floor you began fast walking to get outside, and you threw away the lunch in the first trash bin you passed. Your eyes stun when the chilly wind brushed your face, and you knew the tears you had struggled to hold in were beginning to fall. You hoped to God people weren't staring, and you kept at a brisk pace in the direction of anywhere. You and Ivar didn't live together, so you at least had your own space to hide.

As you approached the train station, your phone buzzed with a message. It was from Ivar. You wondered what words Ubbe had plied him with to get him to reach out. Usually, a message from him when you knew he was at work would have been a delight, but now you were already into second-guessing. It was a simple invite to dinner, but you knew you wouldn't be able to sit in a restaurant and pretend everything was alright. You replied with an excuse.

Sorry, I'm not feeling well today. Raincheck

Ivar's reply was quick and to the point with a simple 'okay, feel better'. But you wouldn't feel better. Your relationship was over, he just wasn't privy to the fact yet, and you didn't want to end it with the embarrassment and disappointment still so fresh…

ooOOoo

And that's how it was for the next two weeks. You distanced yourself from Ivar while gaining clarity about the situation. The hurt turned into a dull throb, but you also accepted that it wasn't his fault for feeling the way he did, even if that was cold comfort to you. It was best for you both if you ended it and moved on.

"I think we should break up," You finished saying to Ivar as he had tried to gift you a diamond bracelet. He had dropped in unannounced again, a habit that had started after you blew off the dinner. Your visits consisted of sitting in silence on opposite sides of the sofa, and you could barely bring yourself to kiss him when he would leave.

He must have sensed something was off the past few times you had seen each other, and the bracelet was his way of trying to bridge this new gap. Now he was giving you a blank stare, trying to play catch up on whatever details he had missed that led to this behavior from you.

"Alright," He started slowly. "Can I ask why?"

Because you're bored with me, your mind shouted, but you swallowed the bitterness and forced a smile. "We've been growing apart for a little while now. You must have felt it too."

"I've felt that you've been brushing me off," Ivar said as he fell back into the armchair across from you on the sofa.

"What do you mean?" You tried to act surprised by the accusation, but your voice raised a tick. You had never been a good liar.

"Well, just now when I tried to give you the bracelet, you looked disgusted. I might as well have been giving you a can of surströmming."

"That's not--" You started to say, but he cut you off.

"Not true? No, I think it is. And what about that dinner last week? Were you even sick?"

You felt small under his strong gaze, but you weren't about to let him spin this whole thing back on you when you knew the truth. "No, I wasn't sick. I guess I just didn't want to go to dinner with you because I felt it was pointless."

"Pointless? If you'd decided that, then why did you wait until now to break up with me?"

"I've never broken up with someone before," You admitted, the first truthful thing to come out of the conversation. It was always you getting left behind, and it felt strange to do it to someone else. You still had feelings for Ivar, which didn't make it any easier knowing he didn't feel the same, and possibly never had. "I thought you'd be relieved anyways. You must have felt the same, that we were drifting apart."

"I didn't realize you felt that way," Ivar replied, frowning at his lap. "Ubbe didn't say anything to you, did he?"

You tried not to react, but your blood froze in your veins and your heart trembled. "No, why would he?"

And then you realized Ivar suspected you knew about the private conversation with his brother, only he mistakenly thought Ubbe had blabbed to you about it.

"It makes sense now, why you've been pulling away. He told you, didn't he?"

"About how I'm a good person, but that I'm too shy to fit in with your social circle," You blurted out, your anger rising.

Ivar was stunned by your abrupt attitude change. You never raised your voice for anything, even when you'd argued. "So he did tell you."

"No Ivar, Ubbe didn't tell me anything." You rose from the sofa and turned your back on him to stare out the window. It was a beautiful day. You let out a mournful sigh. Too bad you wouldn't get to enjoy it. "I came to see you that day, to surprise you with lunch. I guess you wouldn't consider that spontaneous enough though."

"(Y/N)," Ivar started and over your shoulder, you could see him pushing himself up from the chair with his cane.

"I don't want to hear it," You interjected with your hand up. "This is why I didn't want you to know I knew about that. I didn't want to hear your excuses."

"That was a private conversation you weren't supposed to hear."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Ivar frowned, and he seemed annoyed with you as if you learning the truth had inconvenienced him. "No, but I should be the one upset with you for trying to break up with me without telling the truth."

"I'm not trying to break up with you, I'm done with you, Ivar," You told him, and your blunt tone caused his face to fall. "Maybe I shouldn't have listened to that conversation, but I'm glad I did. It spares me from being in a relationship with someone miserable and bored when they're with me. Did you expect me just to not say anything and carry on as if nothing had happened?"

"We could still talk this through." His voice sounded timid, and you didn't think he meant it.

"Talk through what? You're still in love with someone else, and I won't be your poor replacement." You strode to your apartment door and held it wide open. "Please leave."

You half expected Ivar to stay put and want to argue this through further. He was nothing if not confrontational, and while you admired his inner strength, you did not want to find yourself on the receiving end of Ivar Lothbrok's ire. But in the end, he didn't say anything. His cane thumped down the hallway to the door, and as he strode by you, you kept your head down holding your breath. You don't know if you were hoping he would do something to change your mind, let you know that it had all been a misunderstanding, but that wasn't the case. Ivar left, and you found yourself closing the door long after he had gone.

Now that it was final, you didn't know how to feel. The past few weeks you had been preoccupied with internalizing your heartbreak. You had held it in for so long, that now your well was empty. Your relationship was over, and if you were going to move forward you would have to cleanse your life of Ivar. Grabbing a box from your closet, you began to pack away anything he had ever given you.

ooOOoo

It was such a cliche, the expression about missing something after it was gone, but it was currently how Ivar was feeling. A month had passed by since your break-up, and time had slowed to a crawl. He hadn't seen or heard from you since he had left your apartment that day. You had returned a box of his things when he had been away at work. Hvitserk had been home to retrieve them, and Ivar had asked how you seemed. His answer; fine.

At the top of the box was the bracelet he had bought you in a last-ditch effort to try and save the relationship. You hadn't even worn it. He didn't know why he had put in the effort to save the relationship since at that time he had convinced himself it was no longer something he was invested in. Perhaps Ubbe had gotten through to him, but by then it was already too late. You had heard everything, and it had led to a devastating end.

Ivar knew why he had second-guessed being with you. He knew from the moment you met that you were the complete opposite of Freydis. You were timid, and your interests lied in things you could do independently as opposed to a social setting. Not like him at all. After growing up different from his disability, Ivar made sure he thrived in large groups as an adult, no longer wanting to be the one isolated in the corner of the room. Being with you had reminded him that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, and he never thought you were weak as a result.

But then he had seen Freydis' engagement announcement online, and he was suddenly mourning the loss of his past. Never follow an ex on social media, that was Hvitserk's advice, and he should have listened. He and Freydis had said their goodbyes two years ago, though more reluctantly on his part. She was everything no one thought he would ever have in a partner. The beautiful blonde had chosen the cripple, and his ego had soared to new heights.

Food tasted better, the air was cleaner, everything was different from his supposed view from the top. Ubbe had reminded him that it hadn't been as perfect as the memories he clung to. During that time with Freydis, he had abandoned much of his ties to his family, and he had picked up the bad habit of spending money to the point of debt. When she had left him for new career goals, he had gradually returned to earth with the other mortals and realized he had been an asshole.

He had a momentary lapse back into that spell all because of one picture online, and unfortunately, it had bled on to you. Now all he could think about was how much he had hurt you, and with no real excuse good enough to justify such atrocious behavior.

A knock on his door came, and he threw the bracelet back into the box of his belongings that had made their way from your home and now back to his.

"Hey, you want dinner?" Hvitserk asked, poking his head in.

"Not hungry."

"Still feeling sorry for yourself, huh," Hvitserk said as he leaned upon the doorjamb.

"If I didn't, nobody else would," Ivar grumbled petulantly.

"And how do you think (Y/N)'s feeling?"

"I don't know, you said she was fine."

Hvitserk ran a hand down his face. "I was covering. If anything she looked...disappointed."

Disappointed in him more likely. He was a disappointment, and not because of his legs as he always feared. When the news of his break-up with you had spread through the family, they all were annoyed with him for making that choice. None more so than his mother. She had been vocal over the years of her dislike for Freydis, and while Ivar knew his mother would have a difficult time accepting any woman he brought home, she had come to reluctantly welcome you into the fold. The rest of his brothers didn't hold back on hurtling their own brand of criticism, each as unique and harsh as they were creative.

"What should I do," He asked aloud, and Hvitserk looked startled by the question. He was the last one in the family anyone looked to for advice, but Ivar already regretted not taking the bit about exs and social media to heart.

"Apologize. That's the only thing left, even if it won't be enough to remove the hurt right away. She needs to know you regret what you've said."

For the first time in a month, Ivar felt a smidgen of hope. "Do you think there's a chance we could start over?"

"I don't know about that. If she holds onto those things you've said as the truth, then she might have a hard time trusting you again. Those relationships never work out," Hvitserk said with a shrug.

"Maybe I should go over there and talk to her," Ivar said, already rising from his bed.

"I wouldn't," Hvitserk replied looking guilty. "Thora's over there now, and she's still pissed at you for hurting (Y/N). If you don't want to end up in grievous harm, I'd stay away for now. Sorry."

Ivar sighed as he plopped back down. "No, I get it."

"Try reaching out slowly, and work your way from there," Hvitserk suggested.

"You're surprisingly not as dumb as you look," Ivar taunted, and the first grin broke out on his face. It felt good to use those muscles again.

"I know, I'm brimming with knowledge and ready to impart wisdom," Hvitserk said with a laugh. He stood up from the door and looked ready to return to the sitting room. "You sure you aren't hungry? I haven't ordered yet."

"I think I could eat. Just give me a moment, I need to finish putting this stuff away." He indicated to the box, and Hvitserk nodded in understanding before closing the door behind him.

Ivar pulled out his phone and searched for your name. All of the things he had to say couldn't be composed of one text message, but he could extend an olive branch and hope it didn't come back as ashes.

I know this is probably coming too late, but I need you to know I'm sorry and I miss you. If you want to, I'd like a chance to meet and explain things, that's it -- Ivar

He hit send before he started to ramble or worse chicken out entirely and not send the thing. He didn't know if you would reach out right away, and he didn't want to know. Getting up from his bed, Ivar hobbled on his crutch, leaving his phone behind in his room to join his brother for dinner. Hvitserk must have sensed his change in mood, but he embraced it rather than asking, and they didn't bring you up again. It was the first time in a month he felt like himself, no heartache over Freydis and no self-pity over losing you. After a late-night of buffoonery, and pizza and beer, the brothers returned to their rooms.

Ivar ignored the phone sitting in the middle of the bed, avoiding it as if it was some cursed thing. He went about his nightly routine, all the while he felt the pull to check if you had replied. He hoped you had. Even if it was just to tell him to fuck off, something was better than no answer. After getting his legs settled beneath the covers, he lied down in bed and shut off the lamp on his side table. Before going to sleep it was time to check if you had seen his olive branch. The glow of his phone lit up his face, and his breath hitched. You had replied. His eyes flitted back and forth, tracing your words to make sure they were real.

I miss you too. Let's talk soon.

Ivar fell asleep right after, with renewed vigor in his heart. He would work to earn your trust back. Whether that meant as a couple or just as friends would be up to you, and Ivar would respect what you decided. So long as you were still in his life, everything would be alright.

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[kawaiijohn]

DP Angst Week Day One: Birth/Creation

Ao3: here!!

Wc: 1463

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The Abyss

Waking up without any idea where you are is a pretty prevalent fear for many, and for others it's nothing more than the aftermath of a baller pub crawl.

However, most don't find themselves surrounded by a vast swirling void of lime highlighter green when they wake.

The first thing they noticed was the barren hunk of rock they'd woken up on. Grey and deep violet, yet still surrounded by the swirling neon green skies.

'Either there's a storm comin' or I'm not 'in Kansas' anymore...'

They tried to think about how the hell they ended up here, wracking their brain for any small detail, but they realized they couldn't remember anything. Not their name, nor their age- nothing was coming to them. They knew 'they' was right and so was 'he'; the words felt right, even if there was no name to match.

The more he thought, however, the more his head began to swim. There was nothing before they'd opened their eyes this morning. Or was it night? Evening??

Time didn't seem to matter here.

The toxic sky made it impossible to tell what time it was, and the purple and grey soil they were standing on made them assume they were possibly on a different planet.

What kinds of things might even live here? If anything does live here, that is. Alien life had to exist, right? We hadn't contacted them yet due to both distance and technological incompatibilities... Something clicked, filling in a blank.

'I believe that's referred to as 'The Fermi Paradox'.

He blinked, not knowing where the phrase came from. How could he recall a niche scientific theory but couldn't even recall what he'd been doing the night before??

He was panicked- trying to remember anything; his age, birthday, zodiac sign... was he a Scorpio or a Gemini? Maybe he was a cusp or something interesting...

He had to know something else... Maybe he could try and recall his Myers's Briggs personality test- then he'd find more information from inference... But not everyone fit into neat little boxes even if they were wonderful starting points...

His chest buzzed pleasantly with the train of thought, but he was no closer to an answer.

He could be in space for all he knew.

Or maybe an alternate realm...

'What, did I get hit by a truck and transported to another world?!? Is this, an Isekai or something?? ...Why do I know that word, but have no clue what my name is????'

Irritated, they looked to the horizon, spotting a floating island. He was going to dismiss it but felt something calling to them from beyond.

The feeling brought them to their knees.

They shook their head, trying to ignore the call, knowing the jump was impossible to make. It would be suicidal to take that leap...

Right?

They exhaled harshly, a strange hiss passing their lips as something vast and empty in their chest demanded they take the leap. No matter how unsafe their mind knew it was, their chest was still singing for something the horizon; calling out to that something with such pulling force it felt like a black hole would devour their common sense.

Time marched on, but they did not move.

They knelt, refusing to listen to the call until their head stopped spinning. Their knees crunched hard into the sharp gravel, digging trenches to stay grounded.

Why didn't their knees hurt from this? They've always had bad joints, especially after the- after...

After what?

They clawed the dirt, shaking in fear at what could be beyond their small respite in the lime abyss. Their mind was blank, torn between urge and indecision. They could sit here alone and think more. Or. They could follow the call.

It could be a trap.

But.

Something deep within told them they'd always felt comfort in nothing, even before this. They'd always felt comforted by the void. They didn't know what all it meant, but it was better than sitting there any longer.

So they followed their heart.

It was better to die trying than to remain a sitting duck in exile.

'Geronimo.'

They expected to die, to perish as they fell into the endless (and somehow comforting) vast sea of lime; to spend eternity gazing into long nothingness until they passed the event horizon and became one with the universe.

Instead, they floated.

They managed to fall about three or so feet before righting themself, head whipping erratically- up, down, left, right. This shouldn't be possible but...

He tested the waters (so to speak) and found he could pretty much fly. They grinned, mouth splitting farther than they remembered it being able to, but that was a mystery for later.

They sighed, relenting, and followed the siren's song.

-----

Some things seemed to be very out of place. Wrong, even.

Firstly, his hands were completely black. Not just the black of cloth, but black as the void of space- small pricks of light shone when he smiled and constellations vibrated when he grew frustrated with his amnesia. Obsidian talons (he couldn't even begin to call them hands, not with how they seemed to grow in response to his emotions) replaced what he thought for sure would be bitten nails with torn cuticles. He didn't know why he expected chipped blue nail polish.

They'd just painted their nails a few days ago and with their job it always...

'Wait... what was my job?'

Why did that confuse them? They had a job. They knew they did... It was... They brought a hand to their head, thoughts turning into radio static

'My job was...'

Faces and colors they couldn't place assaulted their mind. Names came and went, leaving nothing but lingering feelings- like a song cut off by a garbled PA announcement, the clouded memories were interrupted by crackling interference.

Claws brushed his face as black droplets rushed from his eyes.

That wasn't right either...

Nothing was right but they kept flying.

-----

Green seas shifted into a black expanse, the lime color swirling faintly in the distance instead of consuming the skies. Purple doors hovered every which way they could.

Relieved that the skies became less eye-burning, they spoke for the first time. "Thank gods!! That neon hellscape was giving me a headache..."

A pause.

That wasn't right. It didn't sound right at all.

That wasn't their voice.

Their voice was nasally, high pitched and awful. Nothing like the deeper growl they just heard... Though they were slowly panicking, the deeper voice felt right. It was something they didn't know they wanted, but it clicked as if it were natural.

But it didn't matter how pleasant it sounded, they needed to keep moving.

-----

Was it days? Hours?? Were they flying for weeks?

They didn't know, had absolutely no fuckin clue. But what did know was that they'd reached their destination.

It didn't stand out much, but for reasons unknown he felt comfortable here- at peace. His heart led him to a small island. Strange, yet familiar flowers grew in patches around a worn, yet glowing path leading to a door- black wood door with silver embossment.

"Fancy..."

He looked around- well there wasn't anything else around...

They approached the strange structure and flinched when stylish street lights flickered on with a blue-green flame. The weird vibrating in their chest sang that they were here.

This was home.

He stepped back, looking high and low. He did not trust like that. The door wasn't even connected to anything! With more investigating he saw the path reacted to his footsteps but not much else.

"Great! I get led here by the power of friendship or somethin and can't even get a break??"

He grumbled, hissing under his breath as he felt his body elongate and warp in frustration. This was all the damn door's fault!

Stupid fuckin piece of driftwood!! He ran up and kicked the offending structure, noting that he felt no pain even with an all-out kick.

In his growling frustration, however, something metal and glimmering appeared on the door- a nameplate in somehow familiar handswriting.

The void in his chest sang, something finally clicked.

"Quizz, huh?" They laughed to themself. "Thought my name'd be somethin cooler! Like Maxwell... or Levi." They crossed their arms. Progress! "Well... guess beggars can't be choosers or whatever the hell that phrase was."

They found themself hesitating. That wasn't the way to go! They were certain they weren't a quitter, even with as little as they knew of themself. No, there was an apparently magical door with their name on it that called them from across the void.

No real reason to hesitate anymore. They reached for the handle with a wicked and determined grin.

"Alrighty then! Let's see what's behind door number one!!"

[nhlandotherimagines]

Family isn’t Always Blood-Part 2

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Summary: Kinsey and Elias’ relationship gets put to the test. Will Elias’ family accept Kinsey? Guess you’ll have to read and find out :)

Author’s Notes: Part 2 let’s go!!!

Word Count: approx. 5.1 k

Warnings: all the same as part 1, also this part likely won’t make much sense unless you read the first part, there is also a a gender reveal in this part so if you really don’t want to read it for that reason I understand and I will add that I do know they are problematic however it was just part of the plot and I felt the need to write it

———

“Can we get an apartment together?”

My question catches Elias by surprise. “Are you seriously suggesting we move in together right now?” He asks laughing in disbelief, but his face softens.

“Well I mean yeah! But, mine is definitely too small, and yours is a bachelor pad. We are probably going to want something a bit bigger.” An unsure smile spreads slowly across my face, as I watch Elias attempting to wrap his head around what I’m saying.

“My apartment would be fine for us, but if you’d rather something different we can look into it.” He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, and I can tell he’s even more confused about my sudden desire to live with him.

“I mean it’s great and I wouldn’t mind living there with you, but we will need more room for the baby don’t you think?” 

Elias slowly pulls away from me, staring down at me, his mouth slightly agape. My eyes begin to water and the smile returns to my face. “Y-you wait? You’re really?” Elias is a sputtering mess, trying to wrap his head around what I’m saying, trying to keep his own emotions in check as he likely waits for me to break down.

I nod, tears falling down my face now. “I’m pregnant Elias.”

“Oh. Okay um, wow.” He pauses, eyes falling briefly to my stomach, but they quickly snap up to meet mine again. “How do you feel about that?”

I grab his wrists that are gently resting on my hips, and guide them to sit gently on my stomach. I then reach up and hold his face in my hands and take a deep breath. “I’m terrified. I don’t know how to be a mom, but I guess no one really does know how until they are one. All I know is this baby, it’s-“ I let out a small chuckling trying to hold in the sob trying to escape my throat. “This baby is ours Elias. We made them, and I wouldn’t want to learn how to be a parent with anyone else.”

I can feel Elias’ hands trembling against my stomach, his touch is feather light as if he’s scared to hurt me. I wait patiently for him to respond, but suddenly he just falls down to his knees and rests his forehead against my stomach. He’s muttering to himself in Swedish, and I’m unable to make out any of it. “Elias?”

As he lifts his head to look up at me, his eyes are bloodshot and tears are streaming down his face. If it weren’t for the show stopping smile on his face, I would think he was upset. “We are having a baby!” He chokes out, tears still steadily flowing across his now reddened cheeks. He places a soft kiss on my stomach, and in that moment I know that everything will be okay. I can do this. We can do this. Together. Our little family.

———

“How are you feeling?” My obstetrician, Dr. McLean, asks as she enters the room.

“Nervous.” Elias answers, his leg continuing to bounce like it has been since he sat down.

“I’m pretty sure that question was meant for me Pettersson.” I giggle, placing my hand on his knee. “I’m feeling better than him apparently.” I joke as I turn back towards Dr. McLean.

She laughs along with me, before explaining how the ultrasound will work. 

Elias watches closely as the doctor puts the gel on my stomach. As she presses the wand to my stomach Elias’ eyes snap to the monitor. As curious as I am, I can’t take my eyes off of my boyfriend. He looks like a child on Christmas morning, not knowing yet what the gifts will be, but excited nonetheless. His baby blues swirl with emotion, and his blonde hair falls perfectly over his forehead. 

“There they are! That’s your baby!” Dr. McLean announces, and my eyes quickly find the screen. I follow the doctors finger as she points out the different body parts, a whole new wave of emotions washing over me. Excitement courses through me, and when my eyes find Elias again, he’s staring down at me, tears falling silently down his face. 

Dr. McLean excuses herself to print off the sonogram photos we asked for, but I can’t focus on her. All I can focus on is the beautiful man in front of me. The man I love. The father of my child. 

“You’re incredible.” He breathes out, running the back of his hand across his face to get her the tears that had fallen. “That’s our baby.”

It’s my turn to cry now as Elias places a soft kiss to my forehead. “It really is. Thank you Elias for giving me a family.” 

“No, thank you.” He smiles brushing away my tears. 

——-

“Do not even think about lifting that box!” I groan rolling my eyes. 

“Pettersson! This box weighs 15 pounds at most and I’m hardly even pregnant!” I yell back, not even really sure how he could see me anyway as he just steps through the apartment door. There is a long pause followed by a muttered profanity.

“Pregnant? You’re pregnant!?” Brock. Fuck, this is not how we intended on telling anyone. Of course I forgot Brock was coming over. When I turn around, Brock’s chin is on the floor and Elias’ hands cover his face as he grumbles inaudibly to himself.

“No?” The uncertainty in my voice a dead give away he didn’t need. Brock’s smile grows and he’s clapping Elias’ shoulder. “Brock we just found out, you can’t say anything!”

“My lips are sealed. On one condition!” The smirk on his face causes Elias and I both to roll our eyes. “I get to be Uncle Brock!”

I can’t help the laughing tumbling past my lips, or the soaring feeling in my heart. I’ve always loved having Brock around, and the thought of having another great man around for this baby to look up to makes me so happy. “I wouldn’t have it any other way Uncle Brock.” I add a little wink at the nickname as he gathers me into a hug. He whispers congratulations into my ear, and places a kiss to the top of my head.

When he pulls away, Elias is smiling at us, a look of happiness similar to the one I’m wearing, on his face. I walk over to him and pull him in for a quick kiss. His hands instinctively find my stomach, like they have many times since last week at the hospital. Sure I was only 2 months pregnant, and not even showing, but Elias doesn’t care.

“Is that why this move is happening so quickly?” Brock asks, and my smile falters a bit. It certainly would seem that way to most, and I guess it kind of is that way. I feel a little guilty about it, like I’m using the baby to tie Elias down, but that had never been my intention.

Elias must sense my mood shifting, because he speaks up. “It certainly helped it along, but Kinsey’s lease was almost up and I wanted her to move in before we found out anyway.”

Reaching up, I place a small kiss on his cheek. The questions that will come along with this pregnancy are inevitable, and they scare me, but somehow Elias makes everything seem easier. With him I feel like I can do anything.

“Have you told anyone else?” I shake my head, cheeks tinting a light shade of pink. We were planning on waiting another couple weeks to tell anyone, but now Brock was the first to know. “I’m honoured!” He chuckles, smiling at us as Elias throws one arm over my shoulder. “I’m so happy for you both.”

So am I Brock. So am I.

———

Today was the day we are telling Elias’ family about the baby, and to put it nicely, I’m shitting bricks. 

“Just breathe.” I shoot Elias a glare that is mostly uncalled for, but my anxiety is through the roof right now. This could change everything. Sure, Irene liked me before, and wants grandbabies, but like this? “Kins. You’re going to stress out the baby. I promise you it’s going to be okay.”

I send him a forced smile, and nod pressing a kiss to his cheek. Elias opens his laptop and places it gently on the coffee table in front of us. I had wanted to make the surprise memorable for the Pettersson family, and knowing they couldn’t be in Vancouver when we were going to tell them, made it slightly more difficult. I spent weeks planning the surprise before we shipped the box to the family home in Sweden.

In the box was an individual package for each family member who would be present during the FaceTime call. In Elias’ father Törbjörn’s package was the tiniest pair of skates we could purchase. Elias’ older brother Emil’s package held a Vancouver Canucks jersey. The number 1 on the back, and a name plate above it that reads ‘Uncle’. Irene’s package, by far my favourite one, is a gold necklace with a small locket. Inside the locket is a tiny sonogram of the baby. 

“Can we open it now?” Irene asks excitedly, foregoing a regular greeting. I giggle, and Elias smiles brightly beside me.

“There is an individual package for each of you. Make sure you open them at the same time!” Irene’s eyes light up in excitement as she hands Emil and Törbjörn their packages.

“Go ahead.” Elias instructs, and my heart beat picks up slightly. The nerves coursing through me, causing my hands to shake and knee to bounce. Elias’ hand comes to rest gently on my knee, and he rubs his thumb in soothing circles across my bare knee.

I watch closely as Elias’ family open their gifts. Emil is the first to open his eyes widening as he reads the nameplate on his jersey. His smile grows as he stares through the screen in disbelief. Elias squeezes my knee in response, and I look over at him briefly, his eyes watering as he watches his family.

Törbjörn inspects the tiny skates, seemingly oblivious to the significance of their size. I giggle as he thanks us both, and comments on how cute they are. 

My gaze settles on Irene as she pulls the locket from its box. Her smile grows as she looks at the small gold heart shaped locket. “It’s beautiful!” She gushes, and I can’t help the tears forming in my eyes. 

“Open it up Mom!” Elias practically yells at her, his patience growing thin. 

Irene slowly opens the locket taking in the small photo inside. I watch her closely, waiting for any indication that she has caught on. After a few moments the smile on her face falls, and so does my heart. I knew this was going to be too soon for her. Elias and I are still so young, and we haven’t even been together that long. Hell, I’ve only met the woman once in person.

“Mom?” Elias’ voice cracks, and I can now see the nerves he’s been hiding, as the tears in his eyes threaten to spill down his cheeks.

“Is-is this a baby?” She asks pointing to the locket. Elias and I both nod in response. “Your baby?” Her voice shakes, as she asks the question. Her face is devoid of any emotion. No sadness, happiness, confusion or anger, and I honestly would prefer her screaming at me than this awkward back and forth.

“Yes. We are having a baby.” A single year falls down Elias’ cheek as he forces a brave smile. I hate seeing him like this. I know he’s excited about this baby, but if his family isn’t he will be crushed.

When I finally peel my eyes away from Elias and back to the laptop screen, Irene is crying. Not just a few tears, this woman is in full on hysterics.Törbjörn holds her to his chest, and Emil rubs her back gently. I feel sick. Scratch that, I’m going to be sick. 

Immediately springing to my feet, I run as fast as I can to the bathroom. Elias calls after me, but I can’t stop. I quickly part ways with the nice breakfast Elias made me this morning, as I sit on the bathroom floor. “I’m sorry.” I cry, rubbing small circles over my stomach. “I’m so sorry.”

———

After probably 20 minutes of sitting on the bathroom floor, I pull myself up. I brush my teeth and fix my hair in the mirror. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I make my way back toward the living room. I stop at the end of the hall, watching Elias speak with his family. The conversation is now completely in Swedish, and they’re speaking so fast there is no way I can keep up. 

Elias’ eyes meet mine across the room, and he smiles brightly. “There she is!” He muses in a much more cheerful tone than that I’d left him with. “Feeling alright beautiful?”

All I can do is nod in response, and walk towards him. Instead of taking my seat next to him, I position myself behind the couch running my hands over his shoulders and down his chest lightly. I press a kiss to his lips when he turns to smile up at me. 

“Kinsey?” Irene’s voice sounds a little hesitant when she speaks, but when I turn my attention back to the screen she’s smiling. “Thank you.”

My brows furrow slightly, and I’m about to tell her she has no reason to thank me, but she speaks first. “Thank you for giving me a grand baby. We are all so excited and so happy for you! But mostly, thank you for loving my Elias. Welcome to the family dear.” 

She is smiling brightly back at me, her necklace now displayed proudly on her chest. Emil is now sporting his jersey, and I’m almost positive Törbjörn placed the tiny skates above the fireplace in the background. Tears are flowing down my face now, and Irene’s face fills with worry. “Oh dear! I didn’t mean to make you cry!”

A watery laugh escapes my throat, and I shake my head as I swipe at the tears on my face. “Just hormones. Thank you Mrs. Pettersson, that means a lot to me.”

“You can call me Mom dear, if you want that is. Irene or Grammy works now too.” A few tears slip down her face as well, but the smile she is sporting lets me know she is happy.

“Thank you,” I pause briefly, taking a deep breath. This is the moment I always dreamed of, having that mother daughter moment, and revealing I was going to be a mom too. The issue was I’ve never had a Mother I felt close to like that. My mother doesn’t care about me, or my baby, unless there is something in it for her. Watching how wonderful Elias’ family is, and how welcoming his Mom has been to me and now this baby has me crying even harder. “Mom.”

My voice is weak when I choke out the last part, and immediately Elias is on his feet gathering me in his arms. “It’s okay Kins, it’s okay sweetie.” He rubs my back, and I cry into his chest. I hear him speaking softly to his mother before he ends the call. “Kinsey? Talk to me.”

“Y-your mom. She’s so wonderful, I love your family Elias.” I manage to get the words out without lifting my face from where it’s pressed against his chest. 

“And they love you, so why are you upset?” He chuckles a little bit, and a small smile cracks on my face momentarily at the sound.

“I’ve never had a Mom Elias.” I breathe out, and Elias places a hand under my chin tilting it up so I’m looking at him. His brows knit together in confusion. “Well I do I guess. I have a woman who gave birth to me and kind of looked after me while I was growing up, but she has never been a mother. I’ve always craved that mother daughter relationship. I used to dream about telling my Mom I was having a baby, until I realized we didn’t have that kind of relationship. It made me think I could never do this, that I’d never be a Mom. So having your mom be so happy to have me be the mother of her grandchild, to call me family, and ask me to call her mom. It’s just so much, and I don’t know that I really deserve it, but it feels so nice! I’m just- I’m so happy right now.”

With that Elias kissed me. It was a rushed kiss, fast and passionate, but not heated, nor was it intended to go farther. The kiss was more like his attempt to communicate how loved I was, and how happy he was too. I smile against his lips, our teeth clashing a few times, but I don’t care. My hands thread through his beautiful hair and tug gently as his cold hands sneak up under my shirt to rest on my stomach.

“You are family y’know?” Elias speaks as he pulls back so we can both catch our breath. My hands scratch lightly through his hair as I smile at him. “You’re my family now. Me, you, and our beautiful baby.”

“I hope they have your hair, and your eyes.” I giggle. I’ve never known happiness like this. This is my family.

———

“Shit!” I groan flopping back on the bed in defeat. I’ve always been a girl who loves skinny jeans, and now here I am unable to fit in almost every pair of pants I own. Minus my sweats and a singular pair of yoga pants that have holes in them.

“Everything okay out there?” Elias asks poking his head out of the ensuite bathroom. He’s seriously been the best, but his constant worrying tends to be a bit suffocating at times. It is very sweet though, seeing him care so much for me, and this baby.

“I have nothing to wear! None of my pants fit!” I whine out, sounding like a child myself. This wasn’t the time though. Today is the day we tell all of our friends, and I have nothing nice to wear. 

“Baby blue sundress in the back of the closet, wear that.” Elias’ head pops back in the bathroom to finish getting ready, and I lay on my back in complete bewilderment. How does he even remember that dress, let alone where I keep it? He’s right though, it is the perfect outfit.

Slipping it over my head is easy, and it flows around my body perfectly. The bump is completely undetectable, and I’m comfortable. It’s perfect.

“You look beautiful.” Elias smiles, placing a gentle kiss to my cheek.

“You don’t look too bad yourself Pettersson.” I smirk, my hands finding the back of his neck as his find my waist. He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans, a pale blue shirt, and a black ball cap sits backwards on his head. 

“Ready for this momma?” He asks with a smirk. The nickname isn’t one he’s used before, and the effect it has on me is embarrassing. My face heats up, heart rate increases, and my smile grows.

“Momma huh?” I giggle, and Elias’ hands once again find my stomach.

“It suits you.” He winks, and kisses my forehead. His hands drop from my stomach as he steps away grabbing his wallet and keys from the top of the dresser. His hand finds mine as he leads me out of the apartment and to the car. Today should be interesting.

——-

Nerves course through me the entire drive. Elias’ right hand never leaves me, as it moves from my hand to my thigh and then finally settles on my stomach. A smile settles on his face when it does, and I find myself fighting back tears.

“Your stomach is growing a lot!” He gushes, and I can’t stop the laugh that tumbles past my lips. The nerves forgotten momentarily.

“Jeez thanks babe!” I joke back, placing a hand over the one he has on my stomach. The way his arm is stretched out across the center console can’t be comfortable, but Elias seems completely content.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He chuckles, as he pulls into the Horvat’s driveway. “Ready for this?”

I nod, not trusting my voice. 

Before I know it, Elias is guiding me into the Horvat’s living room, his hand low on my back. Bo and Holly are quick to greet us, Bo pulling Elias off to talk hockey, and Holly drags me to the kitchen. “Red or white?” She asks, holding two bottles of wine in front of me. Shit.

“Oh no thanks, I’m good. I told Elias I’d drive.” I stutter out. The heat rising in my cheeks sure to give away that I’m lying, as Holly cocks her brow at me.

“One glass won’t hurt right? You’re staying awhile aren’t you?” She’s watching me closely as I try and find Elias in the crowd. My hands shake lightly, and I absentmindedly press them on my stomach to settle them. “Oh. My. God.” Holly’s hand immediately wraps around one of my wrists as she pulls me down the hall and into Ava’s bedroom. “Spill!” Her demanding tone cracking slightly as a smile forms on her face.

“Damn, okay we were going to make an announcement later, so you’re going to have to act surprised.” I pause, and she quickly nods, her smile growing. “I’m pregnant.” 

The words leave my mouth barely above a whisper and are quickly cut off by the squeal that leaves Holly. “I knew it!” She bounces on the balls of her feet excitedly like a child. “How far along are you?” 

“13 weeks.” The smile on Holly’s face, mirrors the one on my own. She pulls me into a hug whispering more congratulations in my ear, before pulling me back out to the party.

———

The party goes on without incident, not that I would ever expect any less from the Horvat’s. The food is wonderful, and of course the people surrounding me makes the night that much better. The house around me is littered with hockey players and their families, children all huddled into the backyard climbing on the playground, as the adults laugh amongst each other about everything and nothing. 

“What’s wrong babe?” Elias asks as he snakes an arm around my waist.

“Wha- nothing! Why?” I ask, looking up at him as he smiles softly down at me. His blonde head towering over me.

“You’re crying.” He chuckles, sweeping the pad of his thumb across my cheek bone. “Again.”

“Stupid horomones.” I grumble wiping at my face aggressively. Crying has become a frequent occurrence in the first trimester of this pregnancy, and Elias seems to find it quite entertaining most of the time. As long as I’m not actually sad of course.

“Can we tell them now?” I can practically feel the impatience radiating from him, as his eyes search mine for any hesitation.

“Of course we can babe! Honestly I’m surprised you and Brock have managed to keep it to yourselves this long.” The groan that leaves my boyfriend has me laughing as he rolls his eyes. Despite the attitude, a smile grows on his face as his hand finds mine before he drags me into the backyard where everyone has congregated around the small fire pit.

“Nice of the lovebirds to join us finally.” Bo chirps as we take two free seats just next to him.

“Be nice Bo, or we won’t tell you.” Elias shrugs nonchalantly.

“Tell me what?” He asks, looking between the two of us. I glance at Elias and giggle, causing Bo’s eyes to grow wider. “Tell me what!?” His voice slightly louder and more frantic as he repeats the question.

Elias’ eyes find mine silently asking me if he should. “Go ahead.” I smile at him, and he squeezes my hand lightly.

“Yeah Petey! Go ahead!” Bo, leans forward in his chair excitedly.

“Okay! Okay!” He chuckles, shaking his head at his teammates. The crowd that has gathered around also listening intently, all eyes on Elias. “Wow. This is awkward isn’t it? Well I guess it’s about time we told you all that Kinsey and I are having a baby.”

His hand tightens even more around mine as the words leave his lips. He’s nervous, I can tell. The moment of silence that follows seems to last forever, even though I’m sure in reality it’s only seconds before someone reacts.

“You’re pregnant!?” I’m not sure who breaks the silence, but I’m immediately bombarded by congratulations, cheers and hugs. All of the WAGs gather around me and I giddily share all of the information they’re dying to know, as Elias gets pulled aside by his teammates.

It’s in this moment that I realize this is family. Listening to, supporting, and just genuinely being excited for the people you care about. Maybe the people who raised me couldn’t wrap their heads around what family is meant to be, but I can. It’s this, it’s a feeling of belonging that I will try my hardest to ensure this baby feels every day of their life.

———

“Kins, sit down. Everything is perfect, and has been since 5 am. Can we just relax for a while before people get here?” Elias whines, as he flops onto the couch. 

“Fine!” I huff, adjusting the two stacks of napkins sitting on the table for what must be the twelfth time this morning. Elias is right, I’ve been wide awake since 3:30 and have been obsessively setting up for the gender reveal party ever since.

“You have to stop stressing babe. It's not good for you or the baby.” Elias lightly scolds me, as he shuffles over to give me room to lay down with him. As I settle in next to him, his hand finds my stomach and he rubs it lightly.

“I can’t help it! I’m nervous, I just want everything to be perfect.” I roll onto my side as best as I can to face him, my hand running through his hair.

“It already is babe. We are having a baby remember?” The goofy smile on his face, has me relaxing into him. My eyes flutter shut as he places a light kiss to my forehead, and I can feel my exhaustion slowly creeping up on me. “Have a nap babe I’ll wake you up in a little while.” The words are hardly out of his mouth before I’m drifting off to sleep.

———

“Look at you two!” Holly gushes, pulling me into a hug, continuing to mutter about our outfits. Elias and I decided to wear Canucks jerseys. His, a regular Canucks jersey with the number 1 and ‘Daddy’ printed across the back, and mine, a pink Canucks jersey with the number 1 and ‘Mommy’ printed across the back. I’m quite proud of them if I’m honest.

As the rest of the guests arrive, I greet them and make sure they all sign the guest book. Elias has set up shop in the kitchen offering everyone a drink, and pointing them towards the large array of snacks. I certainly never thought I’d end up here. Surrounded by so many amazing people, who all showed up to celebrate a baby. My baby. It’s surreal.

Once everyone has arrived, I take a moment to admire the space around me. Blue and pink streamers hang from the ceiling thanks to Elias, who refused to let me climb the ladder. Balloons litter the apartment, many of them now being thrown around by Elias and his friends. The laughter and chaos bring a smile to my face as my gaze settles on my favourite decoration of all.

In the far corner of the room was a tiny replica of a players stall, very similar to that in which you’d find in the Canucks locker room. Hanging in the stall is a small jersey inside of the tiniest little black garment bag you’ve ever seen, and the nameplate at the top of the stall reads ‘Welcome to the Team! Who Could You Be?’. I was quite proud of the idea really, and Elias was quick to volunteer to make my vision a reality. 

“This may just be the cutest gender reveal party I’ve ever been to!” Holly gushes as she gently bumps my hip. The smile on her face screams excitement, and it makes me feel warm inside. “So what’s the deal with that?” I giggle when she gestures towards the stall across the room.

“Well,” I take a breath, placing a hand on my stomach. “Inside that little bag is a tiny Pettersson jersey. Could be pink like mine, or blue like Petey’s. We are going to open it together.”

“So do you already know what it is?” She asks, eyes never leaving the stall as she examines it a little more closely.

“No idea. We had it sent to us just like that.” The fact I’m minutes away from knowing even the smallest, and probably most insignificant about this baby, is making me nervous. Sure, its just the sex of the baby, it means very little about who they will be in the future, and it won’t affect how I care for them. However, it is making it feel that much more real, as the insecurities i’ve managed to keep at bay seem to resurface all at once. This is terrifying.

------

“Alright and action!” Brock yells from behind the camera, and everyone erupts into laughter. The smile on my face hopefully hiding the fear in my heart.

“Ready Momma?” Elias asks, kissing my cheek. All I can do is nod, and the countdown starts. The energy in the room is so intense, but in the best way possible, as our friends yell loud enough to warrant a noise complaint.

3…

2…

1!

Elias’ fingers find the zipper on the garment bag, and I place mine gently over his. His hand shakes under mine, and although I know it’s mostly excitement, I can tell he's nervous as we slowly pull down the zipper together.

As the garment bag falls away, my heart stops. There is no way this is happening, not right now! Elias’ hand drops from mine as he steps back slightly, as the people around me seem to let out a collective gasp. Tears burn my eyes, and before I can stop them, they’re falling down my face. This is NOT what I expected.

Tagging: @anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya @heatherawoowoo

I hope y’all liked it! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the next parts!