#scruffy stubble messy hair and bags under his eyes

[galaxy-fleur]

Have you any headcanons and thoughts about a single dad Leon with a girl? I imagine he'd be quite a magnet for ladies lolol

generally asking

Hmm, a single dad Leon, huh? Gotta agree with you there, he'd definitely attract a lot of attention to himself wherever he goes. What's not to like about an attractive man who is a loving father to his daughter?

On a more serious note, though, I do believe he would have a far harder time raising a child alone without a partner there to help calm his anxieties or rule in his overprotectiveness, as I discussed in this post. He'd still do his absolute best, of course, but without anyone being there to remind him to take care of his own needs as well, he'd run himself ragged on more than one occasion. Leon is a selfless person, which is his strength that is admirable, but it can also work against him. He could very well end up living only for his daughter and ignoring his own well-being for her sake. Really, that's the largest obstacle I see him facing.

It's not all bad, though. Even though he has challenges and troubles, I definitely don't think he's the kind to snap at his daughter or hold her responsible for any of his problems. His daughter won't grow up feeling guilty for burdening her father, that I can tell you. And that kind of thinking will be eradicated from the ground up if she does say anything like that. It's challenging to raise a kid alone, but it's also challenging to grow up with just one parent. In a way, I see them sort of coming to a mutual understanding and appreciation for one another at some point. Kids are way smarter than they look, after all.

Leon may miss a school performance or two of hers because of his duties, but God knows he'll show up at her third one no matter what, and he'd be cheering for her the loudest he can, embarrassment be damned. It's these small things that count.

Speaking of ladies, I also think he'd be very careful with his love life once he becomes a father. Gone are the days of him flirting around and pursuing someone solely based on their charming personality and chemistry. He will make it abundantly clear to any potential love interest that his daughter is his top priority. His kid always comes first. If they understand that (or even supportive of that), there will be no problems. He sure could use some help. And hey, his daughter's approval is the biggest sign that they're the one for sure!

[agentconniereid]

The F.B.I's Café

Chapter 1: Meet Cute

Pairing: Spencer x oc (Sasha Petrov)

Warnings: None! At least that I can think of...

She was a baker, he was an F.B.I agent. Can I make it anymore obvious?

Considering nearly every prediction of how that day could've gone, I truly should've been more excited. However, the only thing I felt as I woke up that morning, was dread. It was the day of the grand opening of my café, the one I'd been working towards my entire life. Well, maybe not my entire life. My first choice was to become a spy, but that's not quite realistic, is it? Damn you James Bond.

Despite the monumental gravity the day was supposed to hold, the dread I felt was supported by the equally monumental amount of work that needed to be completed. While opening a café theoretically seems like a tranquil practice, my life in recent years has been nothing of the sort. Lease agreements, contractors, licences, insurance, what am I going to do if the place burns down, my landlord's a dick. There were a million things going through my mind as I navigated the dingy metro system.

When I finally arrived at my café and started the gruelling process of getting the place ready to open, I couldn't help but notice something. Lia wasn't there.

Lia, my sweet, sweet, foolish assistant. She said she'd be there by 7.00 A.M, but as I looked down at my watch on the hand that wasn't putting cookies in the oven, I read 7.30 A.M. That girl is dead.

I baked what I had left in the refrigerator the night before. Cookies, pies, brownies, pastries. I then unloaded the sourdough bread and freshly baked desserts into the display case and shelves strewn across my bakery. All. On. My. Own. Once all the machinery and lights were on, the desserts and my precious bread delicately placed in their designated spots, I finally flipped the sign hung on the front door from closed, to open.

5 minutes passed, then 10, then 15. No Lia, no customers. I sighed, disappointed that Lia still wasn't there, but took the opportunity to relax a little before having to socialise. I grabbed a book from my bag, the one I decided would be most suitable this morning. Empty Planet, I loved it as a kid and wanted that kind of nostalgic comfort after such a stressful few months.

Not even a few lines into the book, I heard the bell I attached to the door ring, signalling someone had entered my cafe. I was anticipating Lia, I wanted to see her sweet face for me to scold. But I was met with a tall, bedheaded, tired looking man. He wore a brown blazer over a light coloured patterned button up and a crooked tie under a light grey sweater vest. As I said, his hair was messy, very messy. It was light brown, curly, and much longer than a guy would usually like it. As he approached the counter, I noticed the smaller details of his face. His scruffy stubble, his button nose, his dark purple eyebags that accompanied his brown honey-like eyes that seemed to shimmer in the sun.

"Um, hello?" his voice pulled me from my trance. Even his voice was sweet, like honey. "Oh, sorry. Hello, see anything that catches your eye?" I asked with a smile, trying to seem friendly despite the frustrating start to my morning. Y'know, as friendly as you can be while running on 3 hours of sleep and a missing assistant.

"Are those... Cookies?" he asked, his eyes fixated on the chocolate chip cookies in the display case. He was almost drooling. "Yeah, just baked them like less than an hour ago. I suggest you get them while they're warm." I chuckled, amused that my cookies had him so mesmerised. "Can I get six?" he asked, his eyes finally meeting mine. Six? Do they look that good? "Um, sure... They look good, huh?" I giggled as I grabbed a paper bag for his cookies. "Oh, no! They're not all for me! I'm buying some for my team." he blurted out, looking somewhat embarrassed. 'Team'?

"Team?" I vocalised my thought. "Oh, um- Coworkers." he stammered, like he said something he shouldn't have. "Right." I chuckled as I handed him his cookies. "Anything else?"

"Can I just get, um... Black coffee with as much sugar as physically possible?" the man hesitantly requested as he reached for the bag. I let out a soft giggle at his peculiar order.

"So... Coffee whithout the ghastly bitter taste?" I joked as I made my way to the little moka pot station I had set up. He returned my laughter. "You could say that."

I'm aware that such a method of coffee making seems rather lacklustre for a self-proclaimed café. However, I find that those irritatingly tricky espresso machines make the process of brewing coffee far too complicated. But, I also just find moka pots rather charming.

I finished up his drink and walked over to him. "A diabetes inducing black coffee for..." I trailed off with my hand outstretched to him for him to receive his affectionately named drink. "Spencer." he snickered as he took the it from me. "Spencer." I repeated. His name rolled smoothly off my tongue and rung comfortably in our ears, as if it was ment to be said in my voice. That's how it felt to me at least. He seemed to feel the same, as a slight tilt of his head accompanied the smile he already wore. "...This is usually the part where you'd say your name."

Oh.

"Oh- Sasha. It's Sasha."

(A.N. EEEEEEE FIRST CHAPTER'S DONE!!!! Not a lot of interaction between Spencer and Sasha, ik BUT TRUST ME! We will get our sweet sweet fluff eventually... But not without some angst.)

[movnts]

could u do an angsty one with mason where he’s not doing so well and his friends are worried about him and you go check up on him and he breaks down or something to you or anything angsty like that

"what are you doing here?" would be the first question that he threw at you, his body slumped over his sofa as his eyes stayed fixated on the blank television screen in front of him. just from his physical appearance you could tell that something wasn't quite right - his hair scruffy, deep violet bags peaking through his under-eye as his lower face was shadowed by stubble.

"mase, what's going on?" you would whisper, not wanting to cause a scene as you swayed in the door frame, face scrunched in confusion as to why he was sitting in complete silence. his curtains and blinds were still drawn, minuscule streaks of sunlight leaking in and casting shadows across the floor in messy arrangements.

the sound of your voice had tickled something inside of him, scratching the part of his brain that he had been so desperately needing to be relieved - eyes dragging from the screen to your slouched shoulders. and you could see the glaze glisten over his pupils, his bottom lip trying to stay firm as he'd shrug, not knowing how to put his emotions into words. you knew that he got excessively stressed whenever it was football season, the pent up anger and frustrations that he'd gather during the games typically being bottled up inside of him and lighting the short-tempered fuse inside of his brain.

"i'm okay... i just needed some alone time," his gritted teeth barely allowed his voice to be louder than a mere grumble, eyebrows furrowing as he watched your face twist into a frown. both of you knew he was lying, his face telling a story that was different to his words.

you didn't even have to say anymore more as you shuffled over to him, perching awkwardly on the sofa next to him as you took his hands in yours. his skin was cold to the touch, an instant shiver running down your spine and electrifying your veins with an impending sense of dread. you knew there was something wrong; that there was something weighing in on mason's mind.

"talk to me," you let his hand go limp in your lap, focusing your attention on him, "dec' mentioned you-"

and you weren't sure what exactly you had said as he'd let a few tears roll down his cheek next to you, his fingers rubbing furiously at his eyes as you'd bring him closer to your chest. his head would be buried into your shoulder, shirt creasing as he'd try to get as close as possible. you'd seen mason cry before, of course you had, and you knew he just needed to let everything out and mutter about whatever was on his mind before he'd miraculously recover and go on about his day - as weird and confusing as it was it was just the way he worked.

as your palm would rub his back you could feel him collect himself, nose snuffling as he'd run a hand through his tousled hair. and he'd turn to you, face flushed a deep red as he'd wait for you to say something, anything, that would lift the mood slightly, his lips pouting as your features would stretch into a sympathised smile.

"i don't really fancy cooking," you'd brush a strand of hair that had fell between his eyes, fingertips grazing his skin ever so gently, "takeaway?"

[mgg-theprettiestboy]

a spook-tacular day

matthew gray gubler x fem!reader

request: having a lazy day with Matthew, like y’all wake up at noon and lay in bed together. just giggling and talking about anything and everything. Matthew keeps sneaking little kisses. once y’all decide to get out of bed you make breakfast together and it ends in a messy food fight and burnt food so y’all just order some breakfast from a diner and cuddle on the couch all day!!

FLUFF!!!

in which halloween in quarantine isn’t all bad, being stuck with the world’s goofiest boyfriend

warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, a small injury

The feeling of warmth that surrounded you when you woke up was just phenomenal. You usually did wake up pretty warm, but with your boyfriend pressed against your back, and his arms wrapped around you tightly, you were cozier than usual.

You were semi-dressed from the night before, so, carefully unraveling yourself from Matthew’s arms, you made your way out of the bed and to the bathroom to relieve yourself, before putting on some comfy pyjama bottoms. It was when you tried to sneak back into bed, did his eyes slowly begin to open.

“Morning, mop head,” you giggled as you referred to the fluffy mess of hair on his head. He just grumbled incoherently, his arms reaching out to you like a child wanting to be lifted. When you were close enough, he pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you, before rolling over to he could lay on you, with his head buried in your neck and pressing small butterfly kisses. His clingy-ness and childlike behaviour only made you laugh, “come on now, you have to get up eventually.”

“Don’t wanna,” he pouted, tightening his arms around you, “I just want to stay in bed forever with my goddess of a girlfriend. Why is that so difficult?”

You laughed, wiggling in his hold to mess with him, “because said girlfriend wants food.”

“Don’t you have a stash of emergency oreos in your nightstand? Just eat them,” he whined, nuzzling his face further into your neck. You only laughed more as his scruffy stubble rubbed against your skin, and you could feel his lips against your neck curve into a grin.

“Can’t have oreos for breakfast, Gube, that is a new quarantine low that I refuse to hit,” you smiled, moving to run your hand through his hair and play with it. He whined again, “but I wanna stay in bed. Cuddling, playing with my hair, tickling, teasing...”

“Matthew!” You squealed as his hands moved to tickle your sides, and he grinned mischievously, now straddling you as he tickled you mercilessly and laughed as you squealed and squirmed and begged, “stop, pl-please! Ah, oh my god! You are so on the sofa tonight!”

That quickly grabbed his attention his hands stilling as he stole a kiss, before he raised his brows, “is that so?”

You gulped as you smiled cutely up at him, feeling his hands lightly press against your sides, the threat of him tickling you again still looming, “uh. No, not really. I love you too much to kick you out of bed.”

He narrowed his eyes at you playfully, but his smile began to grow as he hummed, leaning down to steal another kiss, “right answer, pretty girl.”

You leaned up and pecked his lips, before quickly shoving Matthew off of you and sprinting to the door while giggling. You heard him grunt, before laughing, “oh that's it. It’s on! It is on like Donkey Kong!”

You had to hold back your laughter as you ran around the house to evade him, before settling on a good hiding place. You could hear his footsteps running around, but since you had the head start, you had lost him already. Making your way to his office, you gently shut the door behind you before ducking to hide under his desk. You held your breath in anticipation when you heard his footsteps get closer.

“Since when did tag become hide and seek?” He called out, grinning like a fool in love. Matthew opened the door to his office, and he had to bite back a laugh when he saw toes peeking out from under his desk.

“Baby? Where are you hiding? You should know I'm gonna find you. I’m the master at hide and seek,” he said, before moving into the office and closing the door, “I know you’re in here.”

You could feel your adrenaline racing as you bit your lip, trying to breath as quietly as you could. You wondered what your boyfriend you do when he found you, and your mind began to wander...

“Boo!” Matthew’s face popped up from above the desk, making you scream and jump, which resulted in you bashing your head against the desk.

“Oh shit!” He quickly climbed off of the desk and sank onto his knees to pull you out from under the desk, concern lacing his features. You clutched where you hit your head, but he pulled your hands away and parted your hair as he frowned, “show me where you hit. How badly does it hurt?”

You winced slightly as he tenderly touched your head, before snorting a laugh. He mistook this for tears, and almost started crying himself, “shit, Y/N I'm so sorry, I didn't think you’d hurt yourself.”

You covered your mouth as you began to laugh, and he pulled away from you quickly to confirm that you were indeed, laughing your ass off. “I can’t believe I bonked my head against the desk like that,” you laughed, and Matthew huffed and shook his head, before his own smile began to grow, “you are a klutz alright.”

You gasped and whacked his arm, “hey, you're the one who scared me.”

He pouted and rubbed his arm, “well you’re the one who shoved me and ran away.”

“Well you're the one who started tickling me.”

“..... Okay you got me there.”

You giggled as he grinned, before he wrapped his arms around you to lift you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he carried you downstairs. He had changed, from wearing just his boxers, to an old worn Charlie Brown T-shirt and maroon shorts.

“Hey look, we’re matching,” you smiled, pointing at your Snoopy t-shirt. Well. It was Matthew’s t-shirt, technically. He grinned, kissing your nose as he walked into the kitchen, “awesome. And we did it unintentionally, too.”

You hummed and nodded, with a stupid smile on your face, as he sat you down on the kitchen counter. He tried to move to the fridge, but you had your ankles locked together so he couldn’t get far. He chuckled as you pulled him back closer to you, wrapping his arms around you, “I thought you were hungry?”

“I want a hug. Hug first, then food,” you mumbled as you shut your eyes and rested your head against his shoulder. You couldn't help yourself, he was just so huggable. He was your home, and you took so much comfort in his touch.

“How does French toast sound?” He whispered as he rubbed your back, making you sigh happily, “how does French kissing sound?”

 He snorted a laugh, looking down at you with a goofy grin, “sounds like you wanna eat me for breakfast.”

“Oh, absolutely Mr. Gubler,” you retorted, making him laugh as he finally moved over to the fridge, taking out the different things to make breakfast. You watched him move the the cupboards next, and you hopped off of the counter to start making coffee. You felt something pat your head, so you frowned and turned around, thinking Matthew was patting your head. When you looked to him, he was stood behind you, with a mischievous grin and a bag of flour in his hand.

“I didn’t think we needed flour for French toast?” You asked, and he giggled, “probably not.”

And then it dawned on you. You touched your head, gasping when you saw your hand was white, “Matthew! You little gremlin.”

“If anything, you're the little gremlin. I’m a big gremlin,” he grinned, making you scoff, “oh yeah? Could little gremlins do this?”

You grabbed an egg, and granted, you had to jump a little, but you cracked it over his head. His jaw dropped, and there was a moment of silence as you both just stared at each other. Then you both moved. He started throwing the flour at you, while you broke as many eggs over him as you could. After squeals and giggles, from the both of you, he had tackled you to the ground, where you both lay in a floury eggy mess, laughing your asses off.

“I can't wait to do this with kids someday,” he hummed, smiling happily at the thought. You scoffed, “yeah right. There’s no way we can have a food fight with our future babies, cause then they’ll think it’s okay to throw food, and we’ll be living in a food-coated nightmare.”

“This is why you’ll be the responsible parent, and I will not,” he kissed your forehead, before grimacing as you laughed at seeing his lips coated with flour. He wiped his mouth, before standing up and pulling you up to stand, “why don’t you go shower? I’ll tidy this up and order us some food.”

“Hmm, I would stay and help, but since you’re the little shit who started this whole food fight, I’ll leave you at it,” you pecked his lips, before moving around the mess and upstairs to the shower. He joined you after ten minutes, and soon enough, you were both cuddled up on the sofa, eating French toast at 2pm, and watching halloween movies in the ugliest matching Halloween sweaters Matthew could find.

“I love you so much, you colossal dork,” you mumbled, smiling as you watched your boyfriend massage your feet. He sighed over dramatically, “the things I do for you, and what do I get in return? Insulted!”

You laughed, “dork is an endearing term. You’re my dork.”

He grinned widely, crawling up to kiss you lightly, “and you’re mine.”

[foxy-lisard]

Aaaahh, I’m so sorry for the delay! But, hey, at least I managed before the deadline. Really sorry, though, life has been kicking my ass in a multitude of ways.

Anyway, here is my @bnhanewyearsfanfictionexchange gift for @jeanscigarettes ! I hope you’ll like it! I went with the Fantasy AU bc Fantasy AU is good shit.

“What do you mean ‘the dragons have returned’?” Momo finally looks up from the book she was reading to look at her conspiracy theory loving friend. “They are extinct. The last one has been killed by your-”

“By the prick, yes.” Shoto sighs, his leg bouncing. “I have seen the proof, though. The woods are more alive than ever. The dragons have returned.” He pushes his own book to her over the table. She raises her eyebrow before picking it up and reading the page it is open on.

“Shoto, I know you would love this to be true…” She puts it down again after a minute, having read it already. “But it’s such a small chance, it barely even exists. And yes, I know a small chance is still a chance,” She continues before he can jump in with his favorite retort. “but why risk your life? You’re safe here, you can practice your magic all you want, you have books and comfort.” She lists some of the positives of living in the big city.

“But what if I don’t want that?” He stands up from his chair and walks to one of the many windows in Momo’s personal library. “What if I want adventure? Excitement? And a big fat finger to that prick, for everything he did?” He turns around to show her the ice rose he made. “For Touya, Fuyumi and Natsuo.” The rose disappears in steam as he clenches his hand around it.

She bites her lip before nodding. “Alright. But I will come with you, to ensure your safety.” He softly chuckles in response, making her frown. “You know I can fight. Being with two will always be safer than just one.” She places her hand on his shoulder. “And who knows? Maybe I can find out some new things while out there.” She smiles.

“Fine. Thank you, Momo.” He returns the smile, looking out of the window again, at the forest he can just barely see over the city wall. “I was planning to leave tomorrow morning. Will that be long enough to gather everything you need?” In response she simply nods, retreating back to her chair.

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

“I told you something like this would happen! Multiple times!” Momo hides behind a tree, peeking out for a second before hastily pulling her head back, an arrow sticking out from the bark where it just was. “I hope you have a plan, because I’m out of potions.”

“I do.” With a swift movement Shoto is up in the tree he was hiding behind, looking out over somehow unsuspecting assailants. With a deep breath, he spreads his hands out in front of him, and a fine mist spreads over the clearing before it suddenly freezes, a thin layer of ice over everyone but him and Momo, although he could feel the cold spreading over fingertips.

“Shoto!” She catches him as he falls out of the tree, dizzy and exhausted. “That was extremely risky and unnecessary! If you wanted to do something like that, you should’ve just done it from the ground.” She sighs, feeling his temperature. “You’re lucky I have the right herbs for this…”  She mutters as she searches through her pouch. “Here.” She shoves something disgusting in his mouth and holds it closed. “Swallow.” She commands, and with a shiver he does.

Almost immediately heats spreads throughout his whole body, fighting off the dizziness, although the exhaustion remains. She helps him up and he gags. “What was that?” He croaks out, thankful for the water she offers him now. He carefully takes a few sips, sighing as it washes away the taste. “It was absolutely revolting.”

“Your own fault for doing something so reckless.” She wipes her hair out of her face. “I suppose we will need to move camp again.” She gestures to the frozen ground and ice statues that are technically people. “Well, at least this time I didn’t get stabbed.” She grabs her bag from the ground and pulls Shoto along without even waiting for any kind of reaction from him.

They walk through the forest, trying to find another clearing while animals settle down around them for the night, or wake up to hunt. No matter how far they walk, or in what direction, there is no other clearing. Momo opens her mouth but shuts it again when another voice rings out. “I’d fucking freeze if I were you.” It’s calm, but there’s a hint of danger in there, even if the obvious threat would be ignored.

Shoto clenches his fists as he reaches for his magic, warily looking around. With how dark it is by now, he can barely see anything, so he decides to do something risky. Again. He sets his hand on fire and lifts it above his head, shining its light around them. “Who goes there?” He calls out, eyes narrowed.

The fire on his hand dies out and a sudden empty feeling makes him stumble, falling to the ground when someone pushes him during that. “C-careful, Kacchan! You don’t know what they can do…” Another voice joins the first one, to the right.

“Shut up, Deku.” The first one – Kacchan? – scoffs as he places his foot on Shoto’s back, pushing him further into the dirt. “Aizawa is watching them, and I’m a fucking king, it’s not like these weaklings can do anything to me.”

Weaklings? With a quick move, Shoto has Kacchan pinned beneath him. “Not every mage relies on magic.” He lowly hisses, preventing the man beneath him from being able to breathe probably, although it doesn’t seem to bother him, if the feral grin is anything to go by.

“Not everyone who seems human is human.” Is shot back and within a second he is back on the ground again, this time on his back instead of his stomach, giving him a bit more breathing room. “So don’t you fucking underestimate me, weakling.” The feral grin is even closer now, red eyes aimed at his own.

“Bakugo.” A third voice, tired and stressed. “Don’t do this again.” The man is lifted off of him and an older man with eyebags and stubble offers a hand to Shoto, which he takes after a second. Once he stands again, he looks at Momo, who is staring wide-eyed at a person holding her wrists.

“Shoto…” She meekly begins, her eyes finding his, a childlike wonder in there. “I think you were right after all…” Before he can reply, he is pushed away from her by the scruffy man. “Don’t be reckless.” She calls as she is pushed the other way by the redhead holding her.

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

Shoto doesn’t know how long he’s been in this… cave. Cell. Whatever. He gets food and water, and he’s allowed in the sun every now and then, so he should probably be thankful, but it’s just so boring. Nothing happens and he hasn’t seen Momo in… God, what is it? A couple weeks? A couple months? Time is hard when it’s dark most of the time. He just hopes she’s alright. After all… She came with him to protect him. She’s in danger because of him.

As he’s musing all of this, the rock at the entrance gets rolled to the side, and after his eyes adjust, he can see the scruffy man who helped him up back when they got captured. “Bakugo wants to see you. Get up.” Once again, he is offered a hand, which he takes. As the man leads him out of the cave and through the underground tunnels, he can see people walking around, and someone around his age playing a song for some children with a soft smile. As he looks at her a bit longer, he realizes it’s one of the most famous bards of the continent, Jiro Kyoka.

Her gaze flickers up to meet his, and she gives him a wink as she mouths something. ‘Momo… alright’ is what he can understand from it, but it’s enough to let some of the tenseness seep from his shoulder. He doesn’t know why she bothered to do that, or how she even knows about it, but that doesn’t really matter.

A few seconds later he is pushed through a door into a big room with an oval table in the middle, a lot of chairs around it, but only one occupied. Messy blond hair, magic swirling around him like he’s stronger than any mage Shoto has ever met, and still the same feral grin as when he had him pinned. “Todoroki Shoto. Son of Todo-”

“Shut. Up. About him.”  Shoto narrows his eyes at the attractive annoying man. “I guess you’re Bakugo…” He trails off as his eyes wander around the room. “What is it that you want.” His voice is flat and emotionless as he looks at everything but him.

“I’m the king, yes.” He can hear the chair move and footsteps drawing closer, stopping right in front of him. “You should consider yourself lucky we didn’t kill you when we found out who you are. After what your father did to us…” A strong and warm, very warm hand grabs his chin and makes him look at Bakugo again.

“What do you mean, after what he did to you? The only time he-” Shoto cuts himself off as he finally really looks at Bakugo. Skin that’s not quite skin… Too warm… Red eyes with slitted pupils… The magic… “You’re… You’re a…”  He can’t quite bring himself to say it as his eyes grow wide.

“Yes, I’m a dragon, would ya fuckin’ keep up?” Bakugo snaps as he pushes Shoto to a chair. “Sit. I just want you to answer a few questions. Like, why the hell were you in my woods? What the fuck were you planning to do? Exterminate us?”

His mouth opens and closes a few times before he manages to speak again. “What? No! Of course that wasn’t my plan! I’ve never had anything against dragons!” He crosses his arms with a scoff. “I was wandering through the woods with Momo because I wanted to find and study dragons.”

“Study our dead bodies, no doubt.” Bakugo scoffs as he sits on the table instead of a chair, his fingers restlessly drumming on the table as small sparks shoot from them. “Oh, and don’t worry about your friend. Since she’s not considered a threat to us, she’s free. Well, kept under observation and not allowed in certain areas, but really just about as free as it gets.”

He glances away, slightly guilty now for snapping. Of course they would assume that he’d try to kill them, that’s what everyone does. And still… They hadn’t killed either of them… Momo was alright and Bakugo had actually bothered with telling him so… “I’m not like my father. He only cares for fame and strength. I… I’ve always just… been intrigued by dragons and the likes.” He softly admits. “So, when I heard rumors about the dragons having returned… Well, I had to take my chance.”

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

“Shoto!” Momo jumps up from the chair she was sitting in, right next to the bard, and tries to tackle Shoto in a hug, even though he easily catches her and stays standing. “I’m so happy you’re alright! Did they give you a bodyguard as well? Well, I say bodyguard… But Kyoka just makes sure I don’t try to escape or kill anyone.” She softly laughs, her black curls bouncing as she moves.

As answer he simply points to the redhead who had led him here. “Oh, Eijiro.” Momo sounds a bit surprised to see the laid-back half-dragon right behind him. “I do hope Shoto doesn’t give you too much trouble, he can be a real handful.” She gives a teasing wink as she sits down again.

“Oh, he’s no trouble at all!” Kirishima is quick to reassure her. “Really, it’s kind of like being around Izuku. Just… a bit more silent and stand-off-ish?” He shrugs. “But Katsu asked him the questions a bit ago, and Hitoshi was using his magic on him, so he has the same amount of freedom as you, now.” He smiles, one foot bouncing a bit. “Oh, Kyoka, did you know? Neito and Hitoshi are now a couple!” He starts to ramble to the bard about the two and how it was a surprise, but Shoto is quick to ignore him.

He sits down next to Momo, rubbing in his eyes and feeling the skin around his left eye pull because of it. “I’m tired.” He mumbles. “Kirishima says it was ‘a bit ago’ but it has been at least 14 hours since then, and I haven’t slept at all.”  The evidence of this is how he doesn’t bother with pulling away when Momo pats his back carefully.

“You’ll probably go to a room, soon. Dinner should be ready in just a bit, and they either go back then, or they go and do something like training or reading. Their technique in fighting is really interesting to witness. One of them, Monoma Neito, can copy the magic of others, and he is really good at using it. Someone else, Shinso Hitoshi, is really good at controlling people.” She brightly smiles.

“None are as impressive as the king or Izuku, though. Izuku is kind-hearted, but incredibly dangerous. His strength…” She trails off for a bit. “And the king… He can make explosions with his palms in his human form, but in his dragon form… He is incredibly strong.” Her eyes show her wonder as she speaks. “Not even your father could bring him down, I think.”

“I sure hope not.” Shoto rolls his eyes as he sits straight again. “If he was, I would be long dead by now, with the training he put me through.” He runs a hand through his messy and now way too long hair. 

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

Months pass in the castle, Shoto and Momo getting more and more freedom as time goes on. Watching people grow closer and form relationships, or watching them grow apart bit by bit until they break it off. By now, both of them are just as much part of them as anyone else born into the kingdom.

“Oi, Icyhot.” Shoto rolls his eyes at the nickname Katsuki gave him after having seen his magic in action. “What do you say we go for a walk, outside? You’ve been cooped up in the library for weeks, and no fucking way is that healthy.” It’s not like he’s given much of a choice when Katsuki grabs his arms and pulls him along, forcing him to abandon his books.

“You could’ve at least let me put them back.” He mumbles as he easily keeps up with him, his eyes wandering. “Now someone else will have to do it, and I won’t remember where I left off.”

“Oh, you’ll be fine, ya fucking crybaby.” Katsuki gently slaps the back of his head. “You’re just as much of a nerd as Deku. I don’t doubt that you’ll be able to find it within a minute.” Shoto glances down when a warm hand takes his own, surprised to see Katsuki holding his hand like that, for no reason. “Anyway, I wanted to show you something.”

They walk in silence for a few minutes as Shoto just enjoys the fresh air and sun on his skin, noticing how Katsuki stares at him for a bit every so often, but not commenting. Slowly, they go higher up the mountain in which the biggest part of the castle is, until they reach a beautiful viewing point. “Is this what you wanted to show me, Katsuki?” Shoto softly asks, his eyes wide in wonder as he takes in the nature around them.

“It’s part of it.” The unusually docile blond sits down on the grass as he stares at some point in the distance. “But yes.” He doesn’t look when Shoto sits next to him, although bi-colored man could swear he saw the slightly pointy ears twitch a bit. They sit in silence for a while, enjoying the clouds and dragons above them, the sun shining on their skin and keeping them warm. “The other part…” Katsuki softly begins after a while, turning his head so he is looking at Shoto, “was this.” He leans closer, and, after peering into his eyes for a second, kisses him.

It’s just a peck, really, but it’s enough to shake Shoto’s entire world. “I- I…” He stammers as his face starts to be the same color as the left side of his hair. He tries to say something more, but all that ends up coming out is some incomprehensible words as he tries to process it. Katsuki kissed him. Katsuki kissed him. Katsuki kissed him.

Apparently satisfied with the reaction, the dragon king leans back again, focusing his gaze on the sky. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now, you know?” He admits. “The way you look when focusing on your magic… Or when you try, and fail, to kick my ass… It’s hot.” He grins as he briefly looks at Shoto again.

“I- what?” He tries to make sense of what’s happening, but he doesn’t come very far before he is kissed again, this time longer and deeper. “K-Katsuki…” He softly murmurs as they break apart. “I- what do you mean with all this?”

“Isn’t that obvious, Icyhot?” He softly laughs as he runs a hand through the bi-colored hair the other sports. “I love you. And I wanted to do better than Momo confessing to Kyoka in that stuffy library… So, I thought I’d do it here. It’s beautiful here… But of course, it’s nothing compared to you.” He grins at the splutter he gets in response.

“You… love me?” Slowly a smile starts forming on Shoto’s face as Katsuki nods, and he leans closer. “I love you too.” And then it’s his turn to kiss the other.

[therainroguefanfiction]

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 005 [A Deal is Made]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂ Backward

Word Count: 2,216 ☁

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

〈“If I reach out, Can I trust you? Will you help me see the light of one more day?” We As Human, “Take the Bullets Away”〉

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

I stifled a yawn as I flipped through the channels on the TV. I was still lying on the couch, the blanket covering the lower half of my body. Blondie’s apartment was a one-bedroom and was originally made for one person, since he didn’t expect me to, quite literally, fall into his life. This meant that I got the pleasure of sleeping on the couch. He did offer me his room several times, but his weakened state made me believe that he needed it more, so I refused every time.

Today I was determined to get answers, but he was gone by the time I woke up. I paused on the news station when I saw his picture, turning up the volume.

“Just moments ago, a villain appeared at the Tokyo theater, threatening to destroy the building if his demands were not met. All of the pro heroes were occupied with a fire on the other side of the city, but the symbol of peace arrived just in time, delivering a powerful smash! The villain’s current identity and condition are unknown.”

I changed the channel, settling on morning cartoons before getting up and stretching my body. I made my way to the bathroom, doing my business and brushing my teeth. I glanced in the mirror, running my hand through my black hair, currently standing up in all directions. I’d need to get it cut within the next week, I can’t stand when it grows beyond my neck. It’s too much of a pain when it’s long. You gotta brush it all the time and it’s ten times hotter in the summer. Not worth it.

I headed back into the living room, finding Blondie sitting on the end of the couch. His angled face looked tired. It was obvious, to me at least, that he couldn’t maintain his hero form for long periods of time, but why? And why does he keep fighting in spite of that? “You want a soda?”

“Water, please.”

I stepped into the kitchen, pulling out a can of Dr. Pepper and a bottle of water. I almost threw it at him but reconsidered at the last moment, handing it over instead. I sat on the coffee table in front of him, folding my leg beneath me. “Today is answer day, Blondie.”

He sighed, tiredly, and took a large gulp of water. “What do you want to know first?”

“What’s your story?”

His eyes widened as they met mine. I guess he was expecting me to ask about myself instead. His hand grasped the hem of his t-shirt and he hesitated before sliding it up.

“Mother of fuck,” My eyes scanned his left side. The skin was badly warped and scarred. A large circle of scar tissue had formed under his breast, the skin purple and black.

He lowered his shirt, clearly self-conscious of the wound. “This is the aftermath of a fight five years ago. I lost my whole stomach and my respiratory system was destroyed. I’ve had various surgeries, but it can’t be fixed. I can only maintain my hero form for about three hours a day.”

I hummed, resting my chin in the palm of my hand. “Why keep fighting, then? It obviously fucks you up.”

“My work is not yet done,” he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “Enough about me. You wanted to know what I meant when I said you were from this world, yes?”

I nodded, sitting up straight. “That’s right,”

“You were born in this world, young Jen, but your mother had a lot of enemies.”

“You knew my mother?” I could feel my heart picking up speed at the thought.

He nodded. “I met her nineteen years ago. I was facing off against a villain that was stronger than me at the time, and then your mother appeared. She was so strong and fearless…” he smiled sadly as he recalled the memory.

“She was… a hero?”

“Yes… yes, she was. She was also one of my best friends. Like I said, she had a lot of enemies, some she just couldn’t escape from even after retiring. Her biggest fear was for her child to suffer because of her mistakes. When she fell pregnant with you, she tracked down a man with a World Gate quirk. She paid him well and in return, he promised to open a gate to another world, a world without quirks. She wanted you to live a normal, happy life. One where you didn’t have to constantly look over your shoulder.”

What the fuck. My hands fisted around my shorts. I wasn’t even born yet and she was planning my fucking life out? I get that she wanted to protect me, but it makes me angry. And if she went that far to ‘protect’ me, then… “She’s the one that had my quirk sealed.”

“Yes…”

I stood up, pacing back and forth across the small living room. “She had no right to fucking do that!”

“She was trying to -”

“‘Protect me’, yeah I fucking got that. Sorry, but I don’t consider ripping away your child’s identity and abandoning them to be the best way to protect them!”

“She had no intention of abandoning you, Jen.” He stood up, gently grabbing my shoulders so I would stop pacing. I glared at him, but his soft expression didn’t waver. “She planned to go to this new world with you.”

“Then why didn’t she?” I demanded. “Why did she abandon me? Do you have any idea how hard it was growing up without parents? Poor Gramps had to break his damn back to provide for me! He had to play the rule of mother and father AND grandpa!”

“I don’t know what you went through or how you felt, but I can promise you that Alissa did not want to abandon you. She…” he hesitated, swallowing hard. “I was too late to save her life. When I finally found her, she was taking her last breaths. She died in my arms…”

My glare softened at the pained look on his face, bony fingers digging into my shoulders. I… I can’t imagine someone you care so much about dying in your arms. When I found Gramps… he was already… I lowered my head, tears blurring my vision. I bit down hard on my lips to try and keep them at bay. The reality of the situation was hitting me like a fucking freight train and I fell to my knees.

“Jen…”

“Gramps is… dead. He’s really… really dead… I…” Tears overflowed, falling to the wooden floor as I choked back a sob. It felt like my heart was being pulled apart in my ribcage. “Gramps, I… I’m so sorry!”

He pulled me into his arms, fingers running through my hair. I clutched onto his shirt, my body shaking as I sobbed. He felt so warm and, for a moment, I felt like Gramps was here with me again.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

After I had finally calmed down, Blondie said that the rat wanted to speak to us. I honestly wasn’t in the mood – I just wanted to sleep -, but he promised to buy me tacos on the way home. I’ve only known this man for a week and he already knows my biggest weakness. Fuck me.

The taxi pulled up in front of the tall school building and we stepped out after he paid, approaching a large metal arch. “Here,” he handed me a thick plastic card with my name and picture on it. At the bottom in bold was U.A. Visitor’s Pass with a barcode printed on the back. “If you try to pass through the gate without a school-issued pass, the security system will activate.”

“Bit excessive for a school of super freaks, don’t cha think?” I tucked it into my front pocket, eyeing the metal as he passed through it. It felt like those detectors back home that beeped loudly if you tried to walk out of the store without paying for something. Even if you weren’t stealing, there was still that anxiety in the back of your mind that it would go off anyway.

“U.A. High is the top-rated hero school in Japan. This is where our future heroes grow and blossom, it must be protected at all costs.”

I hummed as I followed him into the school and up to the rat’s office. He knocked on the door, waiting for a cheerful ‘come in’ before pushing the door open. Once inside, he closed the door and steered me toward one of two chairs that sat in front of the desk. I glanced at the tall man leaning against the left wall. His black hair was messy, falling in waves to his shoulders. His eyes were closed and he had dark bags under them, along with some scruffy stubble.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” The rat said cheerfully from behind the desk. “We have much to discuss.”

I wasn’t really given much of a choice here. I scoffed, earning a look from Blondie. He had been adamant on the way over that I be on my best behavior and be respectful toward the rat.

“Are you settling in well, Jen?” He asked, his beady eyes on me. “Are the two of you getting along?”

I could see Blondie shift nervously from my peripheral vision and I considered trolling him, but as requested, I decided to try and be at least a little bit civil. “It’s, uh, a lot to take in but Blond, er Yagi-san, has been very kind and helpful.” I glanced at him, sweatdropping at his watery eyes and proud smile. God, that’s such a dad face.

“That’s good to hear! Now, as for the reason I asked you here today. As it stands currently, you have no control over your quirk.”

I scowled at the comment, sliding down in my chair a bit. It was true, but he didn’t have to be so damn blunt about it.

“It’s understandable, all things considered, but it’s quite dangerous. We can’t just ignore this issue. So, I have asked Aizawa to train you!” The rat motioned toward the man, who was now looking at us with a bored expression. His eyes were bloodshot.

“W-Wait a minute,” Blondie stood up, looking concerned. “With all due respect, sir, I thought I was going to be training young Jen.”

“Yes, that was the plan, at first. However, a video surfaced of the day Jen appeared before you and Endeavor, and I got to see first hand her quirk in action.”

My body stiffened at the mention of that day. I hadn’t told Blondie about it, but I had found a forum thread on that very subject. Most of the posts were talking about the two pro heroes, but several people were discussing me and my quirk. They had used words like ‘cold-blooded murder’, ‘monster’, and ‘villain’. Now there’s a video of it happening? If people know my face, will I be attacked on the street? Arrested by the police?

“You needn’t worry,” The rat said softly, giving me a smile when I looked up. “We’ve taken care of the original video and any copies. There’s no record of who you are in this world. The police were quite adamant about taking you into custody, but I was able to make a deal with the commissioner.”

“Deal?” I don’t like where this is going.

“That’s correct. First, you are to remain under U.A.’s constant supervision, which is why you’re living with All Might!”

I raised a brow, leaning over toward Blondie. “You actually work here?”

He nodded. “It hasn’t been announced yet, but I start as a teacher next term.”

“What about your uhh…” I made a motion with my hand and he smiled warmly.

“You don’t need to worry about me, young Jen.”

“I wasn’t worried, you idiot.”

The rat cleared his throat before continuing. “The next condition is that you enroll at U.A. next term. As a seventeen-year-old, you should be in your second year, but I can not allow that. All of the information you lack will be provided as a first-year student, but we will withhold your age from the other students. It’ll be up to your discretion if you should choose to trust your classmates, but I would advise against this, though.”

A first-year as a super-powered high school… this should be fun.

“The final condition is that your quirk be trained and monitored. I was content giving this job to All Might, but after seeing the raw, untamed power of your quirk, I have decided it is best to go with Aizawa, who can erase your quirk if you lose control.”

“Erase it? Like, permanently?” I glanced at the man, who was rubbing the back of his head, eyes closed.

“No, it’s only temporary.” He assured me but didn’t elaborate farther on it. “From this point on, you are a member of U.A. High. What you do from here on out will reflect on this school, as well as on All Might. Please keep this in mind going forward.”

Yeah, no pressure though, right? I nodded, feeling my shoulders grow heavy as I glanced over at Blondie. He gave me a reassuring smile and patting my shoulder.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

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[pendragonfics]

Galaxies In Your Eyes

Paring: Armitage Hux/Reader

Tags: waking up, slice of life, fluff, angst, insecurity, gender neutral reader, Hux isn’t always an asshole, suprise at the end

Summary: Waking up beside Hux might have been easier if he weren't such an important person. And if you were, maybe, a little braver.

Word Count:   1,334

Posting Date:  2016-05-19

Current Date: 2017-05-09

It's daybreak, and you know it before you've even rolled over to glance at the holo-clock in the wall. It's dastardly, being cursed to wake early, to wake for no apparent reason, but here you are, and you're smothered by smooth too-warm sheets and the scent of him.

Unbeknownst to you, it's been a year today since you two began seeing each other, and despite not knowing this, you think of how peaceful he looks whilst asleep, and how you'd rather lay with him than be judged by his pet Knight of Ren.

As Armitage sleeps, his eyes fidget under his lids, in dreams seeing as much action as he does in his job. It's peaceful, observing him in stillness; the hint of bright auburn stubble taunting you with ideas of a beard to be (if Armitage would ever relent to such physical scruffiness), his milky skin. His lithe form, lain like a spread eagle, face into his pillow.

You want to take a photograph and hold onto this transitory moment forever. But the moment passes before it arrives, and you hear the rumble of his morning voice.

"Why do you always stare?" He grumbles.

It's early, you're still waking yourself. But you let out a squeak of fear - has it really become a habit to watch him stir, to blink his steely green eyes free of sleep? - and bury yourself in the myriads of sheets. Who knew living on an artificial planet, on Starkiller Base could be so cold?

"'M sorry," you breathe.

Armitage chuckles, and reaches to kiss your knuckles.

Inside this room, he is a human. He breathes and bleeds and weeps and wants like a man. He watches and wills and loves and stills in thought when he regards you. But once he steps from this space, to become Armitage Hux - he's not the man who whispers poetry at three in the morning to you.

He's merciless then. Dangerous. A man of war. Truly a force to be reckoned, to only be reconciled when he sheds his mask to return to you.

"_________? Darling, why do you hide?" His morning voice purrs with a beauty you can't deny is your weakness.

Slowly, the blankets rise from your makeshift tent, peeling away to see inch by inch, the face of your man. Your moon. Your Hux.

"Do I watch you wake too often?" You mumble, trying to find answers in his face. "If I do, I can stop. Just tell me to, and I will."

His face breaks a smile, somehow a rarity for his work life, but not for his lover. It was like watching an egg crack into a pan; watching a sun rise, watching a star being born. It turned his frown-lines away, made his face seem to be the same as the man you fell in love with those years ago. He is now not the crabby man you cower to, but the caring one.

"Never," he sighs, searching your eyes. He wipes the sleep away with a thumb. There's a look on his face that suggests he's trying to remember your face, every detail, from your (e/c) eyes to messy (h/c) strands that frame your face in disarray, your parted lips. "I'd never suggest that. I love you too much."

Your breathe escapes your lips. A grateful sigh. A blessing. He tells you this everyday. Yet every time seems like the first. Like you've never heard him say it.

Moments pass. A voice inside you wants to fit yourself against the curve of Armitage's side, to hear of what he dreamed of, to share what you had concocted in your mind. To revel together a few more moments of bliss before this daydream shattered.

It was easy pretending to believe there was no war when Armitage was by your side, in your shared room.

It was easy pretending to believe it wasn't an illusion.

It wasn't easy pretending that it would last.

"Do you have to be somewhere?" you whispered, internally hoping he would shake his head. Whisper a simple 'no'. Deny that truth for once, allow his second in command to take over for the day. Armitage had never in his life had a sick day - why not begin now? "I just want to lay with you today, love; tell me it's this day."

There is more silence between you. It's like you've constructed the wall he raises once he leaves you to craft a new galaxy's future. The air has turned stagnant, and you know the answer before he lets it become known.

He is General Armitage Hux of Starkiller Base. He is an artesian in his trade, forging new worlds. He stops for nobody.

"Forget what I said," you slip from the bed.

"Darling -," the covers slip from his shoulders as he rises.

You rush to the bathroom, an adjacent room attached to the wall. Armitage's words are cut off as soon as the door slides behind you.

What has gotten into you? you chaste your reflection above the sink.

He looks at you like a star is forming before him, but the person before you in the mirror is not to be placed into that assortment of aesthetics. There are lines by your eyes, and bags beneath them. Lips pulled tight from worry. Hair limp, near lifeless.

Of course he doesn't want to stay with you, the nasty voice in your head weaves a web to ensnare you, you look like a common slave from a little planet. That's what you were, weren't you? Just another mouth to feed. It's a wonder the general saw anything in you.

You hear a shuffle outside the door, and you picture Armitage falling into his trousers to come to you.

No, not to come to you. He's escaping while he can. He deserves someone who can see what he sees in them. And that's -

"No, no, no, no..." you gasp to the reflection, you can't stare it your face any longer. There's a glint in your eye that suggests trouble, suggests pain. "Shut up, that's not true."

There's a knock.

A pause.

"_________, open up," Armitage's voice is awake with his mind now, and you want nothing else but to ignore his pleas. "Please."

Is he begging?

The door slides to become an entrance once again, and Armitage Hux is standing there, and he's about to speak to you, but you can't look at him. Because of your outburst. He came from a family of prestige, and you from one which couldn't afford a surname.

"Darling, you can watch me wake as much as you please, I was being callous. Kylo Ren has been nothing but a nuisance lately, and I apologise for allowing my lives to lapse together. I love you. Most ardently."

A tear falls from your eye. "You - you should have a proper partner," you whisper. "Someone you can show your superiors and create an empire with. Someone you will marry and have children; adopt them, like you adopted me. You need someone who will see the sun in you. I - I can't be that person, Armitage, I am..."

He takes a small step to you. "You are you. And I love you for who you are. We chose each other - and I see galaxies in your eyes, life in your step. I love you. And I will never leave you." You can't help but relax into his touch, and fall into his arms. "How long have you felt like this? How long have you doubted you worth?"

"A while," you whisper.

A kiss is placed on your brow, and murmurs into your hairline. "I haven't found the right ring yet, I have been planning this for weeks. But will...if you would do me the honour, my _______, my love ... would you take me? In marriage?"

Your cheeks may hold already shed tears, but now, they are the happy sort.

And in a low voice, you whisper, "This - yes!"

[plusultra-anime]

The Cat Dragged In

A Destiel minific (or at least, it was supposed to be mini but it ran away with me a little). This is going to be posted up on AO3 just as soon as I can get an account, but for now, here’s the first chapter (1/3). (Feedback welcome/reblogs appreciated)

Supernatural Pairing: Dean x Cas / Destiel  Based off (but not really sticking to) a prompt from @dailyau / @ashesinyourhair: “How the hell does your cat keep getting into my house AU” Word count: 3.2k ... ish  Warnings: a bit of swearing

The Cat Dragged In

 “—Jee-heesus! … Fuck.”

A black cat with eyes as green as a summer forest was sitting on the counter. Dean’s counter. The counter in Dean’s until-now-cat-free apartment. Dean pressed a hand to his chest and took a few steadying breaths. God, he hadn’t been expecting to see a cat when he turned the corner into the kitchen.

“Who the hell are you?” he muttered, approaching the counter slowly, reaching out a hand. The cat sniffed his fingers then pressed its cheek against his palm. He rubbed its fur. It was purring, a loud rumble, and it gave a harsh “myao” when he stopped.

“I don’t wanna be friends, dude,” Dean mumbled. He lifted up the tag on its collar so the writing would catch the light. 2B, it read, and following that was the name and address of Dean’s apartment building.

“Hm.” So it came from the apartment directly above. Weird. Dean had never heard anyone moving about up there so he had kind of assumed it was empty.

The cat stretched out, wriggling its toes and letting out a big yawn that showed needle teeth. It sprang down onto the floor, its claws making a soft click on the floor tiles as it landed, and started to rub itself on Dean’s leg.

“Mmmrraow!”

“You’re cute too buddy, but I gotta get you home before your owner starts worrying about you.”

And fuck knows how you got in here, he thought, tapping the countertop. Gotta have that damn widow lock checked.

Dean slid a hand under the cat’s belly and started to lift it, tucking his other hand under its butt to hold it against his chest. It was purring again, and the warm vibration was soothing. Dean kissed the top of its head and made a few soothing clicks with his tongue.

“Ok, buddy, let’s get you home.”

Dean tapped the door shut with his foot on the way out and climbed the stairs, muttering to the cat about how breaking into people’s apartments was wrong and how maybe he should get a dog to protect his home from invading felines. The cat replied in curt meows while sticking claws into Dean’s chest.

The hallway of floor 2 was a little dimmer than floor 1, with only one light in the stairwell and one at the far end of the hall. 2B was, of course, the second door down.

Dean shifted the cat’s weight so he could wriggle a hand free. He gave three sharp knocks and took a step back, casting a glance behind him and down the hall.

The lock clicked; the door of apartment 2B opened just a crack, and then a bit more.

“Lucifer!” A deep voice that reached right down to Dean’s toes and all the way back up again.

The guy looked a little scruffy, with dark messy hair and a blue tie that wasn’t quite tied properly. His shirt was wrinkled and his chin was dark with stubble. There was a little fleck of dried toothpaste on the corner of his mouth, and dark bags under eyes that shone sapphire. He had squinted at Dean, until he saw the cat. Then his whole body had softened and without another word he scooped Lucifer up from the crook of Dean’s arm.

“Found the little guy making himself at home in my kitchen,” Dean explained, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry if you were inconvenienced.” 2B shifted his eyes to Dean’s face.

“I mean, if anything it showed me there’s a fault in my home security somewhere, so really I should be thanking … Lucifer.” He tried not to smile around the name as it came out of his mouth. “Is he named after Lucifer in that, uh … the Disney one?”

“No, he’s named after the devil,” 2B replied, deadpan. Dean couldn’t tell if he was joking. He tried a friendly smile.

“He’s that bad, huh?”

2B chuckled and gave Lucifer an affectionate scratch under the chin. “He can get up to mischief sometimes, that’s for sure.”

“No kidding. Well I’ll see you around, 2B. If he goes missing again, I’m right under you so, y’know. Feel free to knock.” 

***

The sun was just starting to rise, colouring everything that hazy grey-blue, when Dean next saw the guy from 2B. He was struggling with an armful of books, trying to open the front door but unable to manoeuver his hand into a position that would enable him to put the key in the lock. Dean, exhausted from too long a shift at the Red Rose, steeled himself for a social interaction that he really didn’t have the energy for, and jogged the last few paces to the door.

“I got it, don’t hurt yourself.”

“Thank you.”

Dean took out his key and unlocked the door, stepping through so he could hold it open.

“Could-?” 2B stopped himself, as Dean closed the door and started towards his apartment. He turned and gave 2B a questioning look.

“Could you open my apartment for me?” 2B finished, glancing away from Dean’s weary gaze. Dean let his eyes drop to the pile of books then looked at 2B’s face. He tried not to smile at his bashful expression.

“Yeah, no problem.”

They began to climb the stairs side by side. Dean’s legs ached from a long night of being on his feet and he yearned to crawl into bed and go out like a light, but he would feel terrible if he’d left 2B to struggle with that ridiculous pile of books.

When they reached the apartment, Dean took the key that was dangling from 2B’s hand and unlocked the door. He pushed it open and stepped aside so that 2B could enter, then leaned a hand against the doorframe.

“You gonna manage from here?” he asked, only half-joking.  

2B placed the books on an end table with care then exhaled heavily. “Yeah, thanks.”

Suddenly Dean could hear cats – multiple cats – meowing loudly from the depths of the apartment.

2B called out, “Yes, Papa’s home!” There was the clicking of claws on wood, and Dean peered round into the apartment to see three cats pouring into the front room. A small, confident tortoiseshell took the lead, followed by a fluffy white cloud of a cat – who eyed Dean warily – and black, sleek Lucifer padded along lazily behind them.

“You have three cats?” Dean raised his eyebrows.

“Seven,” 2B replied in a matter-of-fact tone. He bent down to pet the tortoiseshell, who was rubbing itself against his legs. “But some of them come and go as they please.”

Well that might explain how Lucifer got down to my apartment, thought Dean, although he still hadn’t found any place it could have got in.

2B straightened up and turned back to Dean. “Thank you for your help,” he said in that deep, flat voice. Dean took this as a dismissal. He nodded and patted the doorframe once.

“No problem. See you around 2B.”

2B chuckled. He watched his tall, tired-looking neighbour move down the hall a little before he closed the door with a gentle click. Lucifer was sitting at his feet, gazing at him intently. With a smile, 2B picked him up and looked him in the eyes.

***

“Papa’s home.” A door closes with a thud and there are cats meowing in the next room. Dean hears the clink of keys being thrown onto an end table and heavy, tired footsteps. He stands and the room focuses. A man is walking towards him, dishevelled dark hair, bright blue eyes and a wrinkled shirt. Dean smiles, he can feel warmth radiating towards him. The man smiles back, his nose crinkling at the top, and he stops a foot away from Dean. Dean feels a cat rubbing against his leg. The man is even closer now. A cat meows.

It meows but there’s something wrong with how it sounds. It’s nearer than it should be. Dean’s breath quickens. There’s something wrong, it’s not here it’s …

Real.

Dean jolted awake with a start, his breath coming sharp. The sun had set since he’d rested his head on the desk – just for a minute – and a quick glance at the clock on his computer told him he’d been asleep for a little under two hours.

Fuck.

He sat up and stretched out his arms. He rubbed his sore neck. Then he noticed Lucifer.

The cat paused in licking its legs to honour Dean with a glance. “Myao,” it said, before going back to its wash. Dean let out a heavy sigh that turned into a groan part way through.

“Come on, man, not today.” He rose and went to pick up Lucifer, who started purring against his chest.  On the way to the door, Dean picked up and pocketed his keys, grabbed his phone and double-checked the time. Hopefully he wouldn’t be late to his shift.

Dean half-ran up the stairs, cradling the cat as gently as he could, and rapped loudly on the door of apartment 2B.  

No answer. He waited a few more seconds and knocked again. Still no answer.

Must be out. Dean licked his lips. He hesitated. No, he would be late for work. He turned back to the stairwell and made his way back to his apartment, where he left Lucifer under strict instructions to behave, before rushing out and locking the door behind him.

It was almost five in the morning when he got back. He’d got a cute girl’s phone number and raked in some good tips this shift, so it was in good spirits that he walked the few blocks back to the apartment building.

As soon as he was home, Dean made himself a coffee. He told himself he was only going to work on his essay an hour before going to bed. He sat down in front of his computer and woke it up. As he worked, the sun began to rise, breaking the sky into hues of pink and gold.

There was a soft knock at the front door. Dean glanced up from the screen and frowned, not entirely sure whether he’d actually heard something. But then there was a second knock. He stood and stretched.

When he opened the front door, he was surprised to see 2B, looking sleepy in his wrinkled shirt and crooked tie.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” 2B started, “But I just got home and Lucifer wasn’t th-”

He stopped short as a loud “mrao” came from the bedroom. Dean winced as he realised he’d forgotten about the cat.

“Yeah, he’s here,” said Dean, his gaze flicking to 2B’s lips which were parted slightly, then up to his eyes which were bright despite the guy’s obvious fatigue. “He showed up right before I left for work but you weren’t in so I left him here, then … uh, forgot about him.”

2B gave a quiet laugh, his teeth showing and his nose crinkling. Dean felt himself chuckling too.

“Oh, he’s not going to be happy,” 2B said with a smile, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Do you want to come in? I was just gonna make some more coffee.”

“Thank you, I think I could use some caffeine.”

Dean stepped aside to let him in. 2B looked around the room carefully, as though taking note of everything.

“Make yourself at home,” Dean told him. He went over to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and yawned widely and comfortably. Only three hours until he’d have to leave for class. He should have slept, he knew, but hey, at least the essay was almost finished.  

“Hey 2B, do you take cream and sugar in your coffee?” he asked, looking over his shoulder. 2B was sitting on the couch with Lucifer, who had appeared from wherever he’d been hiding. At Dean’s question, though, 2B stood, eliciting a “myao” from the cat.

“Yes, please,” 2B replied, walking over to the counter that separated the kitchen from the front room. He had undone a few buttons of his shirt and loosened his tie a little more, so it hung slightly more to the left. The bit of skin at the base of his throat, Dean noticed, was flushed, and there was a little colour in his cheeks too. Dean’s heart started to pound.

“It’s Castiel, by the way,” 2B continued. Dean furrowed his brow in confusion.

“What is?”

2B laughed. “My name. You keep calling me 2B. I’m Castiel.”

Dean felt a blush creep over his face and ears. God I need this coffee. “Oh. Castiel, huh? That’s a pretty unusual name.” He busied himself with making the coffee so Castiel couldn’t see him blushing at his own stupidity. It took him a full five seconds to remember in which drawer he kept the spoons. “I’m Dean, Dean Winchester. Which actually sounds boring next to Castiel.”

He liked the way the word felt rolling out of his mouth. Castiel.

“My family is … a little strange.” Castiel gave a dry smile, and a shrug. Dean slid his coffee towards him over the counter and wrapped a hand around his own mug.

“I kind of assumed you just came from a family of cats,” Dean teased. Castiel’s eyes narrowed.

 They sat side by side on the couch, Dean cradling his coffee, and Castiel petting Lucifer, having placed his coffee carefully on the low table in front of them.

Watching Castiel’s hand moving over Lucifer’s smooth fur over and over, Dean felt a nagging sense of déjà vu. His pulse quickened a little. Lucifer was gazing at him intently.

Castiel shifted abruptly to reach for his coffee, and the spell was broken. With his thudding heart and a twang of adrenaline in his stomach, suddenly Dean was thinking of the box of cigarettes hidden in his dresser. It was rare for him to have a craving for a smoke, but there it was. And it had been a long night.

He cleared his throat. “Do you mind if I smoke? I wouldn’t usually but …”

“Long night?” Castiel offered him an understanding smile, his eyes sparkling, as he sipped his coffee. He waved his hand, which Dean took to mean he didn’t mind.

The cigarettes were in the bottom drawer where he kept his dress shoes, a gun and a beaten-up scrapbook. He kept them in there because he hardly ever went in there – out of sight out of mind, after all, and for the most part it worked. He took a single cigarette from the packet, as well as the lighter that was stowed beside it. He stifled another yawn as he made his way to the window in the front room.

Dean pushed the window open a bit then moved the latch, which allowed him to prop it open wider. He leaned out a little and brought the lighter to the cigarette, brought the cigarette to his lips.

Click. Whshh. He inhaled and took the smoke back, deeply.

 Castiel let his eyes focus on Dean’s mouth. A stream of smoke was pouring out, out of his mouth and out the window. Dean’s lips looked dry, and they wrinkled as he pulled on the cigarette again, blew out another lungful of smoke. His eyes fluttered shut, his long eyelashes resting on flushed cheeks. There was so much detail in his face Castiel could hardly bear it. Or perhaps it was just that Castiel was tired enough to notice too much detail. Either way, he couldn’t tear his eyes from Dean’s face.

His eyes opened again, burning moss green. He was turning his face to look out over the road to the stretch of park beyond. Castiel could hear a dog barking.

The early sunlight gave Dean’s face and jaw a soft, golden glow. The front of his grey t-shirt was slightly damp with sweat in places, and the plaid shirt he wore over it was rolled up to the elbows, exposing sturdy, tanned arms. One of his hands rested on the window sill and the other held the cigarette just an inch from his lips. The fabric of his shirt rippled ever so slightly in the breeze, which was bringing in the scent of Dean’s cigarette. One of his bare feet was scratching the calf of his other leg. And Castiel’s stomach was full of butterflies, as it had been ever since Dean had brought Lucifer home the first time.

“Y’know, Cas,” Dean started, turning his head to look at Castiel, “Not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that, I got laid.” A smirk danced over his lips. Castiel’s stomach flipped and he glanced away, unsure whether Dean was joking or not.

 Dean blew smoke out of the corner of his mouth towards the open window and chuckled to himself. Castiel was blushing, which really hadn’t been the intended effect of his joke. But dammit, it was cute. Having taken a last, long drag, Dean held the smoke in and flicked the spent cigarette out of the window into the road. He exhaled slowly, then closed the window up. He returned to the couch and picked up his coffee cup, draining it completely.

“Anyway,” said Dean, keen to change the subject to abate the tension. “Why did you have all those books?”

Castiel looked up from his cup, his eyebrows pulled down, lips slightly apart.

“For … reading,” he answered carefully.

“For reading,” Dean repeated, “Like reading for pleasure?”

“Yes.” Castiel took a mouthful of his coffee.

“But you had, what, twenty books?”

“Uh, eleven. But yes, I’m working my way through the theology and mythology sections of the university library.”

Dean straightened up. “You go to the university?” How have we never crossed paths before? he thought. He was sure he would have noticed eyes that blue and a smile that bright if he’d seen it on campus.

“Well, I work in the library, night shifts.” He gestured to the coffee and raised his eyebrows at Dean. “But I’m hoping to start my Master’s this fall.”

Dean whistled low; he was impressed. “And here sit I, a lowly undergrad.” Castiel chuckled at this.

Lucifer stretched and gave a few low, grumbly remarks, as if to remind them he was there. Draining the last of his coffee, Castiel stood.

“Lucifer’s right, the cats need their breakfast. Thank you for the coffee.”

Dean rose too, and held out a hand for Castiel to shake. “It was a pleasure.”

Castiel’s hand was soft but his grip firm. There was a little roughness to his palm, and the sensation reached right down to Dean’s toes and back again. His breath was caught in his throat and he couldn’t look away from Castiel’s intense blue eyes. They drilled though him in a way that made Dean think Castiel could tell exactly what he was thinking.

Their hands parted, their fingers brushing against each other. Dean tried a smile, and though it felt forced, Castiel smiled back. Dean exhaled. Lucifer meowed.

[vcllichors]

tujhko bhool jaun kaise || aaranya

general notes; this dumb idea spawned from something else entirely, and i just had to write it. i haven’t written anything this long in a while so i sincerely hope it doesn’t suck.

Tanya stood in her gallery, surveying the artwork before frowning. She thought she’d already asked the maintenance to fix the flickering lights in one corner of the display and they said that they had, so why was this light still flickering? She pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. The migraine medication remained in her bag untouched, despite having been prescribed it nearly a month ago. It didn’t matter that the doctor would be mad, would look at her with those pitiful eyes as she slid Tanya a name of a well-known psychiatrist. She exhaled, finally opening her eyes. There was work to be done.

The clicking of her heels echoed in the gallery, as she opened the blinds and flipping the sign on the door to OPEN. Most days she could rarely believe that she had her own gallery. It had been a dream that she had willingly let go of when she was due to be married to Aarav Roy – the only man she’d ever loved. Even now if she shut her eyes, the only face that appeared in front of Tanya was him. The ring he’d given her she still wore, maybe not on her finger anymore but in a slim silver chain as a pendant. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone but having the ring so close to her heart, constantly slamming against her chest made her feel as if she was still close to Aarav. Tanya’s hand reached up to clutch at the ring, a certain warmth seemed to spread through her – a warmth she only associated with Aarav. Her gaze fell to the window, to the rain pouring outside; its relentless pitter patter reverberated against the roof and even the windows.

Perhaps that was why she was clinging to the memory of Aarav today; days like this had always been his favorite. In fact, he’d asked her out on a day like this. Of course the rain in Delhi was much more torrential, with the ability of destroying everything in its path. A sardonic smile upturned the corner of her lips: no wonder Aarav liked the rain so much, he too was torrential, and he’d destroyed her. She remembered seeing him outside her uncle’s halwai shop, a windcheater over his head which did nothing to stop the rain considering he was drenched. She’d been working a shift, ladling various sweets and delicacies into boxes for impatient customers. There were beads of sweat forming at her forehead, which she used her forearm to wipe away. Her dupatta had been knotted across her body, the tiny red bindi determinedly stuck to her forehead. There was a wild look in her eyes as she tried to balance tasks that were clearly meant for multiple people. When she saw Aarav however, she smiled and looked back at her masi, eyes asking for permission to go see the boy.

The smile only grew when the woman nodded with a roll of her eyes and Tanya undid the dupatta, tossing it carelessly on her side. She reached into the display, grabbing a plate of moong dal pakoras with the famed pudina chutney that her uncle’s shop was known for. Her eyebrows furrowed when he nodded to one of the few tables that were covered by an umbrella. Tanya could see him mouthing something to her and so covering the plate with her hand, Tanya rushed over to where he was.

“Yeh li jiye Aarav ji,” Tanya teased, handing him the plate. “Fresh, just for you.” What she wouldn’t tell him was that she’d made them this time and hidden underneath the full sleeve of her kameez was a nasty burn she’d gotten from the hot oil while frying the pakoras.

“I want something else from you today. Karogi? Mere liye?” There was a sort of vulnerable look in his eyes, one that Tanya had never seen before; one that made her heart race faster than she ever imagined it could. Her resting pulse probably sounded like a drum solo or the dhol that would play in the streets during Lohri.

 “What happened?”

“Go out with me.”

Tanya nearly spit out the pakora she’d been eating, “What?”

“Go out with me. For dinner.”

She hesitated; her heart was urging her on, telling her to say yes. How many times had she dreamed that he would come by the shop, and instead of asking for pakoras – he would finally ask her these same words he was saying now? Of course, in her head he said I love you before any of that, but this was a close equivalent. “Yes.”

If only Tanya had known that he would burst out into the biggest grin she’d ever seen: eyes all scrunched up and a crooked smile that had stolen her heart. She wouldn’t have hesitated for that millisecond. Of course if she knew then what she knew now, as she stood alone in an art gallery in Mumbai – Tanya wouldn’t have said yes either.

She heard footsteps echo around the gallery and turned; the force with which she was knocked out of her memory left her slightly breathless. A kind of breathlessness she only ever felt around Aarav. Of course Tanya had never imagined that she would come face to face with the same man who had plagued her thoughts, her memories ever since she’d left Delhi for Mumbai.

He looked much more different than she remembered; for starters there was the scruffy look he seemed to be pulling off with ease. Tanya had never really seen messy stubble on Aarav before, or even the floppy hair he was now sporting, strands falling constantly in his hair that he pushed back by tossing his head back. He was dressed differently too: a simple plaid shirt, scruffy, ripped jeans and a jacket bunched up in his hand. There was a large, oversized backpack she could spot peeking out from behind him, stuffed to the brim with god only knew what. His eyes were red, as if he hadn’t slept for hours and it didn’t slip Tanya that he was now wearing silver studs in his ear as opposed to the black ones he was always sporting when they had been together. And there was the hint of the tattoo on his forearm, peeking out from the rolled up sleeves.

“Hey stranger.” Aarav gave her a lopsided smile, one he knew she could never resist and gave a little wave.

God, it had taken her two words from him for her knees to go weak again and it took all the energy in Tanya to not smile back, to not fall back into their routine. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was harsh, choked even as she forced the words out of her mouth, her fists clenched. “Who even told you I was here?” Then the most important question, the one that was eating her away slowly. “Why are you here?” 

Her pained voice pierced through the silence, through the distance between them as he stood at Point A in the gallery and she in Point B. All it would take to get to him would be a few steps, a few steps and another one of his smiles before she realized that he was the destination. He wasn’t just some point on the map, he had always ben the destination.

Aarav shrugged, his hands in his pockets as he walked around the gallery. There was an aura to him, one that had never been there before and one that someone could only acquire after spending so much time by themselves. Or if you were Aarav? Knowing how much of an effect he had on the girl in front of him. To Tanya of course, he struck her as a douchebag, or perhaps even too mellow. She wanted to scream at him, to force him to answer her question. And yet she didn’t.

He pulled out the newspaper from his bag, and Tanya detected that it seemed wrinkled, but at the same time perfect in its creasing. It was how she knew he’d picked it up at the airport. Aarav waved the paper in front of her, Tanya’s own picture glaring back up at her. “I thought you said you didn’t want this job? That you were happy to stay with me in Delhi?”

“Things change Aarav,” Tanya squeaked; her throat was already dry. She could focus on nothing but how close he was to her, how she could smell the hint of Fahrenheit wafting off him: a gift she’d got him on their second year anniversary.

In no time, Aarav had her pressed against the wall so tightly that he could hear her heart thumping in her chest; it beat so loudly, so clearly that he knew he already had his answer. She wouldn’t look at him however, her gaze on her floor instead. His fingers hooked under her chin as he forced her to look up at him. Another lopsided smile, a shake of his head. “Come on shona, who are you trying to fool? You know,” his voice lowered to a whisper, lips at her ear. “You know you’ll always be mine.” 

She’d almost agreed, almost said yes and given in. “You’re insane,” Tanya let out, her voice ragged as she shoved him away. “Why now?” She let the words ring through the room before continuing, “Why do you suddenly remember that I exist? You seemed to have forgotten this fact when it was our wedding day!” Even mentioning it made Tanya feel as if she’d been punched in the gut, all the air forced out of her.

Aarav only frowned at that, hoping she’d forgotten, hoping that her anger had subsided over the two years since it had happened. He had obviously been wrong. “Shona I…” He broke off, unsure of what exactly he could tell her, what would mend her still broken heart. He obviously could not tell her that he had taken off to discover himself, that he had been fine up until the day of the wedding when the panic had suddenly kicked in. It gnawed at him, as did the insecurity – the insecurity that he wasn’t good enough for her. But things were different now, and he was here. He still loved her. That should have been enough.

Perhaps it was this reasoning that forced his hand as he surged forward, trapping the girl he loved against the wall once more. His one hand pressed against the wall next to her head as Aarav looked into Tanya’s eyes, searching for the love that he had always found, a weight lifting off his shoulders when it was still there. Of course the engagement ring glinting against her shirt should have given it off better than anything else. He heard her breath hitch, and leaned in – his lips against hers.

Tanya too kissed him back, already lost in him, already making excuses for him; he was back now. That was what mattered. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him even closer and only pulled away once they were pressed for air. She looked at him with that dazed look in her eyes, lips swollen and hair mussed.

“There’s your answer,” Aarav whispered, leaning in to kiss her again.