#the penguin one is messy - especially on the inside - so it will be for my relatives hehe

[gellavonhamster]

things I cross-stitched while stuck at home with a sprained ankle

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— SEMPITERNAL

SUMMARY : part II of gimme half. vanilla is a basic flavour. but sometimes it’s just the right thing for mornings like this.  

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), p in v, smut, unprotected sex, fluff

WORD COUNT : 2.2k

A/N : bring me the horizon song title. ah, the second day of January, getting closer to Dean’s bday, it will be the best day of my life or the worst. I have ocd (so does my mom) so idk what’s normal lmao Xxxx

It must have all been a dream. 

She would never go to her neighbour’s house. Not when they were supposed to hate each other. Not when it was freezing cold. Not at night. Not close to Christmas…

He was very pretty though, in her dreams. Still, so pretty. Irresistible. Hot. Frustrating. Adorable. A million lovely things. It felt very real. So real. 

His lips. All pink, warm, soft, and sweet. His hands. Rough, warm, calloused, and skilful. His skin. Freckled, covered in scars, tattooed, hot. God… she wanted that in reality, too. To feel it against every inch of her skin once more. She especially wanted what’s between his legs. 

Were her sheets always this cold? This thin and… not downy at all? 

If she could return to her dream. That would be nice. Making friends with her enemy, Dean… Well, making love is more what it was. Very rough, desperate, hot love. 

She grumbled sleepily, lifting the sheet up her body. Trying to get her arms warm, to stop the cold from getting through the openings. Something stopped her, something hard behind her, and she didn’t want to wake up. 

And wait… why was the window in the opposite direction? 

She rubbed her bleary eyes and looked around the unfamiliar room, the beige and white bed sheets that were definitely not hers. The pictures and posters on the walls were unfamiliar…

She sat up on the bed slowly and twisted her body cautiously to peek at whoever was sleeping beside her. 

Her eyes widened, her jaw dropped slightly. 

Dean. 

She shut her mouth and smiled, trying not to laugh at the events that occurred the night before. They were definitely not a dream. For her bravery, she deserved a treat. Maybe six.

He really did look pretty. 

Those muscular arms holding his pillow, skin freckled and lightly tanned. The sheets clung tightly to his hips, that tiny, narrow waist of his. So jealous. And… oh, God, he wasn’t wearing anything. 

His lips were parted slightly, pink and swollen from sleep, maybe from all the kissing they were doing the previous night. He had the prettiest lashes, so long, thick, curled naturally. What even was he? Those gorgeous freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. His messy hair looked so soft. 

Peaceful. Relaxed. 

The sunlight made him look even more divine. Honey and gold, a verdant forest, a soft flower in a meadow. Springtime in the winter. That was Dean.

She looked around his room, she was completely naked. Some warm clothes and fluffy socks to keep the cold at bay would be nice. 

She opened his drawer to look for some socks, sliding the top drawer out. She blinked at the contents inside. A vibrating cock ring stood out from the other things inside, in rose pink. She chuckled. There were a few candy wrappers, jolly ranchers, unused condoms in the front, a steel gun over books. Cute. There were old movie tickets, a Bob Seger cassette tape, Crime and Punishment, Persuasion, The Lord of the Rings, and 11/22/63. He’s so hot.

She closed it quietly and opened the second one. One half had perfectly folded, plain black t-shirts and the other half had only white t-shirts. She pulled out a black shirt from the top and put it on carefully. She took a deep breath of the scent of the softener that remained and sighed. Yum.

She opened the third and final one. Finally socks. They were neatly organised, folded, tightly fitting in rows and columns. Blue penguin socks caught her attention, but so did the pink ones with otters, the purple ones with avocados, and the green ones with giraffes. Could he get any more endearing?

She picked the boring black ones at the back. What if the fun socks were special to him? 

She got out of his bed, walking quietly across his very cute bedroom, and into the bathroom. His very clean bathroom. 

She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Thank God for the shower she took with Dean last night. No raccoon face from her eyeliner this morning. But she was definitely sore. Good sore. 

He’s so… hospitable. And a billion other things, too many lovely things to list. She laughed quietly to herself, turning the water on in the sink to wash her face. 

Maybe she shouldn’t get too ahead of herself with these thoughts and feelings. Last night was fast, blurry, heated, and emotional. Things could change, she knew that better than anyone. Morning clarity. After sex clarity? Who knows.  

It would be impossible not to have marks over her body after the night they had. She turned the water off, gently shook her hands in the sink, and used the shirt to pat her face dry. Curiously, she kept the shirt up, and stared down at her body. 

There were bruises on her hips the shape of his fingers. And Reddish-purplish marks on her breasts, sternum, and stomach, even higher up on her collarbone. There were bite marks on her shoulders that stung to touch-

“Sorry about those,” Dean’s raspy morning voice made her jump. She dropped the shirt and crossed her arms over her chest, smiling timidly at Dean. She didn’t know why. After the hot night they had together, being seen naked the next morning should be the last thing to make her this flustered. 

“I’m not getting in the way of your secret escape, am I?” He changed the subject, teasingly smirking at her. He pushed himself off the doorframe. Unfortunately, he was wearing a soft grey robe tied loosely around his waist, some grey slippers, and his hair was a cute-slash-sexy mess. 

“No…” she replied softly, running her fingers through her somewhat messy hair. It still felt wet… maybe she should have stopped Dean from throwing her into his bed after their shower, but he seemed more than thrilled to bury his face between her legs. God, that stubble on his jaw felt amazing between her sensitive thighs. 

“Good,” he mumbled tiredly, smiling down at her. 

He was irresistible. She could already feel heat forming between her legs, wetness seeping from her entrance, and her heart pound quickly in the casket of bones the closer he got. 

Maybe it was those pretty green eyes of his, the burning fire in his gaze simmering deep within the golden specks. He checked her out from head to toe slowly, shamelessly, devouringly. Why would he have any shame after the night they had?

Her body reacted to him embarrassingly fast. Like two atoms, she ached to be fused together with him. Being in his presence just felt right. It felt fiery, more now than last night, more than when he was asleep. When he was asleep, he was more than adorable, but now… She wanted him on her again. 

Her skin burned like acid rain had dripped down over her body, but it was just his hungry eyes. It was the memory of his mouth, his tongue, his lips, and his teeth. All marking her, making her his own.

Her lungs ached for slower, deeper breaths as he sucked the oxygen from the room with that deep, husky voice of his. He left her breathless, with those soft eyes and tender smile.

All he did was put toothpaste on the brush he gave her last night. He smiled when he gave it to her, his fingers brushed against hers, like jumpstarting the dead battery of a car. 

She tried to hide the sharp inhale when she took the toothbrush from him by biting her lip. He seemed to like her reaction, a smile tugged at his lips, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to and neither did she. 

She watched him do the same to his own toothbrush and slowly, wordlessly, he started to brush his teeth. 

“Cute cock ring,” she told him casually, and began brushing her own teeth. He almost spit out the toothpaste and saliva when he laughed, a very beautiful laugh that made her insides warm and melty like cheese in a burger, or butter on pancakes, or whipped cream on waffles. 

She was hungry. 

“You looked through my stuff,” he stated, a mouthful of toothpaste still in his mouth. He continued to brush his teeth, staring at her the whole time rather than looking into the mirror. His eyes were sparkling, and not just because of the cold winter sunlight. 

“I was cold,” she shrugged, then spit out what she had left before continuing to brush. He spit everything out at last, regarding her with a smirk. 

“Guess I shoulda been a better host.” Dean finished brushing his teeth and she did soon after as well, waiting for him to finish freshening up from the doorframe.

“You more than made up for it last night,” she grinned, catching the smirk on his face, the sudden dreaminess that washed over his green eyes. Her insides twisted excitedly and he finally looked at her with those soft verdurous eyes.

“Are you still cold?” He teased when he finished, reaching for her waist and gently tugging her forward, and away from the doorway. She shook her head ‘no’ and smiled up at him. “Too bad,” he hummed, biting his lip. “You chose boring socks,” he pouted, then leaned down to kiss her. 

She smiled against his lips. The kiss somehow felt more… warm than last night, and… well, like the birth of a star. Warmth bloomed in her chest, like a flower kissed by sunlight in the morning. It was like being reborn, like breathing the cleanest air.

“I was trying to be considerate,” she mumbled when he pulled away from her lips. He tilted his head with a confused smile, and moved her backwards, leading her back to his bed.

“Considerate?” Dean slowly lifted the shirt, his fingertips teasing her warm skin as he slid it up her body. 

“Read my mind,” she whispered, throwing the clean shirt on his desk when it was around her wrists above her head. 

“I don’t read minds,” he grinned down at her, pecking her lips. She hummed softly, amused just because he made her smile, and untied his robe. He humoured her anyway, staring at her as she climbed onto the bed, her soft hands moving up his torso slowly exploring, memorising, worshipping. “You… are so cute,” he teased, leaning forward to kiss her again. 

She pressed her lips against his, moaning quietly against his mouth. She pushed the robe off his shoulders and he threw it over the small, sage-coloured sofa he had placed by the window that was opened to her house. 

“That’s not reading my mind.” She buried her fingers in his hair and began crawling backwards, her warm tongue tracing his plump lips. He cursed softly against her mouth, kissing her back with as much force, and climbed up the bed with her.

“I told you,” he panted, lowering his body over hers once her head fell onto the pillows, “I don't read minds.” She pulled Dean down, closer to her, arms circled around his neck, legs parted for his hips to fit perfectly in between.

“I think you see through me,” she whispered, lapping at the red mark positioned on his pulse, making him moan softly. She couldn’t believe she felt insecure about it at first, but now, it was hot that he could read her, that he could figure her out in seconds. For however long he's been hunting, she had no doubt he was much more clever than he led on. 

“You think wearing a pair of what might be my favourite socks will make me… sad?” He tried, barely moving away from her mouth. She snickered upon releasing how ridiculous it sounded out loud, she nodded anyway.

“I’d be upset,” she shrugged, sliding her hands down his back, his taut muscles shifting beneath her hands. 

“Exactly why I said you’re cute,” he told her softly, rocking his hips against hers. She shook her head in denial, dragging her lips back up to his. His cock slid through her soaked folds, teasingly nudging her entrance, tortuously rubbing her clit. “You hungry?” He asked, leaning on one arm placed by her head.

“Dirty intent with that question?” She teased, nibbling his bottom lip. He laughed deeply, pressing his cock into her, slowly pushing in. 

“Wanted to make ya breakfast,” he huffed, moaning with her when he pulled out gently and pushed back into her warmth. “So… breakfast?” His hand travelled freely down her sides, tenderly brushing against the bruises on her skin. 

“Only if you’ll make me breakfast often,” she played quietly. With a husky moan, he slid his hands back up her sides, thumbing her sensitive nipples. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, smiling at her words, the tightening of her walls around him taking him to the brink of delectable release and delirious insanity.

“Only if you’re mine,” he rasped, taking her wrist to slide his hand into hers, pressing it into the pillow, and above her head. 

“Yes,” she whispered, squeezing his hand, slipping her other hand into his hair. He lifted his face to stare into her sincere gaze, brought his freehand between their bodies to rub circles on her clit. 

“To breakfast or being mine?” Dean inquired, rolling his hips swiftly into her. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, keeping him close, and drawing his lips closer with her hand clutching the short hair behind his head.

“Yes,” she murmured, drawing a soft laugh from him as she pressed a deep kiss to his warm lips.

➥ summer’s stellar gaze

taglist

@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797 @laylaackles @fanfic-n-tabulous @kristophalis @mrlonelycat @taylortots-world @evznackles @ohnosy @juicyballsworld

main masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

dean’s 45th birthday celebration masterlist

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[c9kefestation]

Heyo!! :3!

Heard you had some Penguin Band hcs, care to share what they are? The Penguin Band is so coolness

OMG I WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS QUESTION THIS EARLY AAAAAAAAAAA /POS

even though im very happy to be sharing them im also very nervous aswell. i was rlly overthinking my hcs how to word them, which ones to add cuz there are a lot of micro ones, throughout my time writing this, hence why it took me so long to respond. however i think its just best to kinda bite the bullet cuz youll never know how ppl will feel ab them if u dont talk ab them.

tried to keep these hcs more generalized and keep some of the more basic ones, alongside throwing in some more fun ones. any details or other hcs that arent here will prob show up in future content

with all that being said, pls let me know if any of these hcs stray way too far from the canon or come off as wrong or offensive

LETS START!

Franky:

Trans! (love how this is a universal hc in the fandom lmao) he/him

Dyslexic, Stompin' Bob is mainly the one who lends him a helping hand when he's having a hard time

When he's stressed or nervous he'll pick at the feathers on his flippers (kinda like picking at nails/skin)

He can be very self conscious about his appearance/body (this was especially heavy during his first years in the band). Ofc his bandmates and Cadence are always there to reassure him and comfort him whenever it bothers him

His main love language/way of showing affection is words of affection, correlating to the previous hc

He's a big mamas boy TEEHEE

He loves snacks (especially limited edition ones) and freshly cut fruit

Petey K:

Trans aswell! he/they

ADHD

When in thought, heavily stressed or nervous, he'll bite his flipper(s) or the inside of his mouth.

His love language is gift giving and physical affection (cuddles and such)!

When they stick with their band, he'll usually stand pretty close behind one of them or hold onto their shoulder so as to kinda ground himself.

He REALLY hates seaweed, he finds it overstimulating and disgusting

He usually has a sensitive stomach, although he can be a bit careless with this at times, he tries his best to be wary of what he eats and drinks

They're very crafty and artsy. A lot of their gifts are handmade!

Although this kinda doesnt match up with his outfit, he likes to wear long sleeved shirts

He's near-sighted. Even though they have myopia glasses they always stick to using contact lenses

G Billy:

Gay and/or MLM, he/him

Neurodivergent

When he's very stressed or overstimulated, he'll hit his head or squint his eyes heavily

His love language is acts of service, he's more of a man of action, mainly he cooks for his friends, memorizes their favorite meals, or brings them stuff when they need them

He and Cadence are step siblings! Him being the oldest (his dad and her mom being their parents)

Unlike Petey, he really likes seaweed! So if Petey ever has seaweed on their plate, they throw it over to him

He's camera shy! He's more comfortable in photos when he's with his friends or family, but paparazzi type situations can really stress him out

Although he does like to party, he tends to stay a bit reserved and cautious

and finally...Stompin' Bob:

Either Bisexual or a Straight Ally, he/him

He has two moms and 3 siblings

When in thought,anxious,stressed he'll twirl his hair or pull it

His love languages are words of affection and gift giving? he basically writes poems and cards and gives them as gifts or he sends articles to his friends abt smth he overheard them saying they liked

He has the biggest passion for music and can get very serious with it, often overworking himself and staying up to make songs

He's the most hot-headed and defensive, either over his passions, friends and family, it's not that he's mean, it's just that he cares a lot

He's far-sighted so he uses reading glasses.

And i think ill end it here for now, ik theyre kinda messy but i tried my best to give a fulfilling answer. Hope you like 'em! And ty for asking op!

Edit: ALMOST FORGOT 2 HCS FOR SB AND PK </3 they're there now

[hauntedjpegcollection]

black hole

wc: 3490 au: college au ch: benny, maran

I told you so, sits very comfortably on Benny’s tongue, just as Maran’s heel sits on his knee. He has to chew the inside of his cheek to not say anything—no matter how justified it would be—fingers feeling fat as they peel open a large, square bandage.

He has to flick his hand to the side to get the plastic backing free. It flutters away and falls like a feather, discarded beside the other wrapper in his already very messy room. Maran fidgets, because Maran is always fidgeting in some way or another. His hands wind into Benny’s hair to keep himself steady, as he stands in front of the bed on one foot. Benny sits, focused on the easy task at hand, even though those fingers do get distracting.

He smooths the bandaid around Maran’s angry red ankle, fingers pressing at the edges to make sure it sticks. He knows from experience how sweat can make a bandage curl up and begin to peel away.

“There,” he concludes, hand wrapping around Maran’s bare calf. He glances up with raised brows.

“Oh, just say it, Ben. Know you want to.” Maran’s teeth indent his plush lower lip, creating a spot of white Benny feels compelled to suddenly kiss. He resists that urge, in favor of giving in to another potentially more sinister one.

“Well,” Benny grins as his hand pulls Maran’s leg closer. The boy stumbles forward, his hands roaming from hair to Benny’s shoulders. He glowers, but it’s an adorable and brattish expression, nothing serious. Pale, inked hands wander over Maran’s muscular leg. His body hair is coarse and short, making him delightfully fuzzy. It wouldn’t be the first time Benny’s caved and simply enjoyed rubbing his face against him.

“I did tell you to be careful.”

“Come off it,” Maran huffs, expression still petulantly cute. Benny kisses the top of a freckled knee, eyes big and triumphant. “Alright, yeah, I’ll stick to my converses today.”

—

After they’re dressed, Benny spares a glance at the cause of Maran’s bloody, blistered heels. Brand new white Doc Martens sit beside the front door to the apartment. There’s a bit of blood on the inside of one of them that Benny will sit down and clean out when they get home.

They’d been a present. One of those ‘just because’ presents. Just because Maran deserved gifts. Just because Benny was a sentimentalsap and he knew something about seeing Maran kicking around in big blocky boots would be so fucking adorable. Just because he loved Maran. Even if he didn’t say it out loud, he thought he could say it like this.

“You have to wear t-two pairs of socks,” Benny says as they cross the wintery parking lot of the shitty apartment complex. He wraps arms around Maran’s waist and swings him around and over a spot of black ice, his boyfriend squirming and barking a laugh as he does. “And keep the bandaids on wh-when you wear them next.” They cross a desolate street, no traffic this early in the morning. Benny can practically feel the headache forming, the caffeine dependency making him twitchy.

“And y-you need to walk with your weight on your heels more,” Benny continues, palm slipping into Maran’s. “Like a penguin.” Their hands tangle more together and Maran swings them back and forth. The wind is cutting and cold, but it’s not that bad out, considering it’s supposed to be winter. Snow lingers, dirty and slushy in the gutters and the trees are barren and dead. The world is sapped of color, grays and cool blues. Maran’s cheeks are bright red underneath the chill. Benny peppers them in kisses before they enter the dinner.

“Hey, Ben,” the girl at the counter calls out, weaving between cooks behind her. She holds up a full pot of coffee, dances toward people to refill mugs. “Maran!” She calls out happily, giving a wave that he enthusiastically returns. “Sit yourselves!”

So they do. They find a regular spot, a nice table that can only fit them, next to the window. It’s not necessarily scenic, especially with dreary beginning winter weather outside, but Benny feels comfortable next to windows. He doesn’t like feeling boxed in—and Maran likes it because the pastry display is directly on the other side of them, so he can begin planning what overly sugared monstrosity he’ll end up getting.

Their feet bump together under the table, Benny’s old, broken in combat boots and Maran’s scuffed up white converses.

“They’re kind of busy,” Maran comments, elbow to the table, chin to his palm. The red in his cheeks has faded mostly. It lingers on the bridge of his nose, on the tips of his ears. He fiddles with a sugar packet idly. Benny sits slumped with his hands in his jacket pockets, a sneeze building behind his nose.

“Whoa. Hi, Benny.”

The sneeze rips out of him, louder than he means it to, making his entire body rock forward. He’d barely been able to catch it in the crook of his elbow. More than a few turn to stare at him, but once Benny wrenches his face free from his arm, all he can look up at is Kel’s golden face.

They’re doing something new with their hair. Or, was it new? Benny can’t even remember the last time he’d seen them. Surely it’s been over a year—and even then, it’d been a passing accident at a party, where Kel had offered to get him a beer from the cooler they stood beside and Benny had told them he was trying to cut back. Kel had laughed, but Benny couldn’t remember if it was a condescending one, or if they’d just been awkward. Kel was awkward; they were a bit strange and eclectic and why the fuck were they working at Henry Street Diner, where Benny came to eat breakfast with Maran nearly three times a week?

Kel tucks a strand of their maybe new, long black hair behind an ear.

“Long time no see,” they say.

“Uh,” Benny replies.

“This is weird,” Maran comments, looking sweet in his own confused smile. He also looks apprehensive and Benny is reminded that Maran has psychic feelers attached to his entire fucking body; he can just absorb waves of emotion and sort them into categories and know what someone feels. Benny loved Maran for it, because it made it easier when he was struggling to even put a word to what he was feeling, but in that exact moment, it made him sort of nauseas.

“Uh,” Benny repeats, hands flattening on the diner table.

“So weird,” Kel laughs, pulling a notepad from the apron cinched at their trim waist. “Not every day your ex boyfriend sits in your section.”

Maran’s sneaker lands in Benny’s lap. It makes him grunt a bit, reach down to readjust so the flat heel is against his thigh instead of sitting on his aching knee. All the pink has drained out of Maran’s face now, and he stares at Kel.

“Could ask to switch with someone else,” Maran finally says and his smile is anything but friendly. Maybe to a stranger, it would be—Maran is the sort of pretty where every expression he makes seems somehow inviting. His cheeks are round and his jawline is cuttingly handsome and his eyes are big and full lashed. But he tilts his head, chin still cupped in his jaw and there is something resembling cold snow in his stare. Benny is only a little surprised.

They could both do better about jealousy. Benny could probably stop slapping drinks out of peoples hands as they try and give them to Maran as a come on—Maran could probably stop shoving himself literally in front of Benny when people came to approach him for flirty conversation (not that Benny minded that, because it usually planted Maran’s ass directly in his lap and he very much liked that ass). But Maran didn’t usually act so snippy so quickly.

“I’m not trading a two top for a family of six,” Kel replies, with a thumb over their shoulder to the rowdy group behind him. Sure enough a child is throwing pancakes onto the floor with reckless abandon and neither of the parents seem to care. Benny’s eyes switch from the child to Kel, and he realizes they have a name tag then. Benny slowly pushes the heels of his palms into his eyes.

Because he’s definitely talked about his first college relationship with Maran. Not with any details other than ‘well, they broke my fucking heart’, desperately moving on to another conversation instead. That was enough for Maran, who was, if nothing else, a very fierce defender of Benny’s heart.

“How h-have you been?” Benny finally asks, in a sort of pathetic attempt to make temporary peace. The tension doesn’t seem to have affected Kel at all, who uses their teeth to uncap their pen.

“Well, I have a second job now, so could be better. Could be worse!” Kel has the same spiky smile that had made Benny approach them; it was a dual sided snide and friendly, cocky and a little self conscious. Their brows knit together. “You’ve graduated by now, right? Is it Dr. Benson yet?”

Bennny’s stomach sinks and he’s surprised at the grief that fills him. At the cold feeling that wraps around his heart and squeezes and the angry wasps that swarm around inside his head at the realization that Kel thinks more time has passed than it has. Or truly can’t remember what year he’d been in when they’d started dating. He swallows and rubs a hand down his throat, but before he can answer, Maran does for him.

“Didn’t you guys date, like a year and a half ago?” He laughs. “You started your program around the same time. What, time flies when you’re broken up with?” The comments more overtly mean than Maran usually is. Benny’s hand sinks below the table and wraps around the man’s ankle, holding it. Maran really only has eyes for Kel, who blinks down at him. They look incredibly unsure, hazel stare flickering between the two men.

“This is my boyfriend, Maran,” Benny says.

“I like your jacket.” Kel points with his pen at Maran, who looks down at it and then smiles wider.

“It’s Ben’s, actually.”

There’s a beat of silence and then Benny clears his throat and points at Marissa, the girl behind the counter. She holds up a fresh pot of coffee, smiling and oblivious to the incredibly surreal and weird scenario that they’ve landed in.

“Coffee?”

“Jesus, true.” Kel slaps their notebook against the table and starts to turn. “You were the worst coffee addict I’ve ever dated.”

Maran looks positively stormy about it, his expression not to dissimilar to earlier, when Benny had been smoothing bandaids over his blistered heels. The heel of his converses is getting the top of Benny’s jean clad thigh wet, but he doesn’t mind. Having a bit of Maran to hold onto is nice. Strings of his blond hair fall around his face as he leans forward. Benny folds his arms on the diner table top.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” Maran replies, pouting.

“Want to split an entire pie?” Benny asks, pointing to the bakery display, where warm, fresh apple pie sits. Specialty of the diner, hand made sort of shit that Benny didn’t necessarily care for, but knew Maran went wild about. His boyfriend’s face splits into more of a smile then, especially since he damn well knows Benny is going to eat two bites and then leave the rest for Maran.

Which is exactly what ends up happening.

—

Maran is lacing his converses, furiously, for the second time that day. He’s muttering under his breath. He stumbles a bit and shoulders the wall for balance so he can get the second one on. A classic X-Files poster is crinkled by Maran’s hand on the wall. I WANT TO BELIEVE. It’s survived all the way from Benny’s pathetic high school days. Maran’s tongue sits between his teeth, pink and cute and bitten for concentration.

“Maran,” Benny says, sitting on his bed, back to the wall. Pillows prop him up against it. They’d both been there together, cuddling for lack of a better word. Only now Maran was yanking at the jacket he’d all but finally stolen, shoving arms through it. His cheeks are red again, and not from the cold this time. His teeth click together on another muttered sentence. “Maran.”

“What an asshole!” He explodes, a hand waving toward nothing in particular. He stomps his shoe on harder. “Who says that to someone?”

“I dunno. Black holes are cool.” It’s an attempt at a joke, but it only seems to make Maran angrier. His lips thin and his brows knot together and his eyes narrow. He keeps clenching and unclenching his hands—and Benny can understand the frustration. The anger, really. If the roles were reversed, he’s not entirely sure if Maran could stop him either.

“I’m going to go back to that diner and—”

“Kick their ass?”

“Throw them in the street!” Maran yells again, hands thrown in the air. He’s like this, in all conversations. Hands used to emphasize every point. But Benny doesn’t like when he’s so angry he starts tossing them around, when his chest is heaving for air because he’s so furious. Maran doesn’t get angry a lot, not like this anyway. It makes Benny feel guilty, but it also makes him feel…good. Justified, a little, even if that wasn’t the right reaction. And that only makes him feel guiltier.

“Mar, I w-was a bad boyfriend.”

“You probably weren’t. And—and even if you were—that’s no reason to compare someone to a black hole.”

“One of the c-coolest natural phenomenons in existence?”

“You’re a person!” Maran snaps, now gesturing toward him with those frantic hands. Then all at once, his shoulders sag visibly. His face crumples into something pained. Benny glances down at his lap, so he doesn’t have to see it.

Truthfully, Benny hadn’t been a good boyfriend to Kel. Sure, he’d not been bad. He’d not cheated or worse. He’d let Kel move in when they’d only known each other a few weeks. He’d been just as jealously possessive as he was with Maran, and Kel had liked it just as Maran secretly did. They’d gone on dates, most of them fun. They’d slept together in a variety of different positions so nothing ever got boring. Kel had never felt boring—but Benny had always felt static anyway.

He’d never actually let Kel close, is what he’d realized, in dating Maran. He’d never told Kel why he hated Halloween. He’d never admitted, like he had with Maran, that he was self conscious of his hair or his teeth. Kel had never stayed up until morning hours, helping him with index cards and rubbing Benny’s sore shoulders after hours of sitting at a desk. Kel had never asked why Benny didn’t ever mention family. Maybe they’d been sort of shitty to each other in different ways, dating in a way that was superficial and fun but never anything more.

Maybe Kel hadn’t been wrong that Benny had some black hole inside him that was impossible to fill. But…maybe Maran was right that they were a bit of an asshole to say it.

Benny holds up his hands, to indicate silently to Maran that he wanted to hold and be held. It was probably the only thing that would actually stop his boyfriend from storming out, going to the diner and making a scene. And Maran does stop, immediately and cross toward the bed. He crawls up and onto it, knees on either side of Benny’s thighs. His hands cup underneath a pale, stubbly jaw, thumbs brushing. He presses kiss after kiss to Benny’s forehead, so many that his cheeks start to go warm under the affection.

“You’ve got sneakers on my bed,” he mumbles.

“I thought you liked when I wore the sneakers in bed?” Maran says suggestively to Benny’s temple. It surprises him enough to bark out a bashful laugh. He loves being surprised. Maran’s lips move from his temple to his cheekbone, to his nose and then his lips. The kiss is planted firmly, more loving than it is sexual. Benny’s arms wind around Maran’s torso, jerk them closer.

“You are not a black hole,” Maran says.

“Mar—”

“I mean it, Ben.” His dark, pretty eyes are fierce and furious. He shakes Benny’s face, their foreheads touching. “You. Are. Not. A black hole.” They’re silent a moment, their breathing mingled and close. He tries to suppress the rising emotion in his chest; it threatens to prickle behind his eyes. He doesn’t want to remember how much that statement had originally hurt—how it had shaped the way he made friends for a long time after that. How he’d nearly fucked up knowing Xavier and Lark because of it. And he still, sometimes, kept both those men at a distance, because it was easier. Benny swallows, audibly and breathes out and tilts his head back until it touches the wall.

He opens his mouth and Maran leans in close again.

“Don’t argue with me,” he warns. The feeling in Benny’s chest dislodges. He huffs out a wet laugh and then another one, that’s real and warm. He slides his hands across Maran’s lower back.

“God, you’re hot,” Benny groans. “C-Can you say that again, but with your m-mouth on my mouth?”

“Ben,” Maran laughs. His name, a laugh. Benny loves that. Maran rocks a little in his lap.

“Oh yeah, just like that,” Benny continues, smiling nastily. “You wanna sixty-nine?”

“Ben!” The laughing dissolves as he’s wrenched to the side to lay on the bed, and Maran’s laughing is cut off by their mouths coming messily together.

—

Afterward, they’re both spent and laying lazily tangled together. It’s cold in the room, but everywhere their bodies touch is warm, warm, warm. Benny lays on top of Maran, head to the boys chest, ear to his sternum. The steady thump of his heart was hypnotizing; he’d listened to it go from racing to steady. Maran’s fingers card gently through his hair, making a shiver run up and down Benny’s spine occasionally. It almost felt better than the sex, being touched in this gentle, sweet way.

He could have fallen asleep. He was dozing as it was. Benny need only let his eyes fully close and he’d probably pass out, a sweaty mess on top of the other man. He knew from experience that even if it became uncomfortable, Maran would still just lay there. He’d let Benny sleep for however long he needed.

“What’s that one moon you like?” Maran asks. His voice is slightly rough, hoarse from the oral sex. It makes a tingling sensation mingle with the shivering. Benny is effectively spent, but the well of arousal for Maran seems so fucking endless sometimes. He sighs contently, moving to sit up just enough so they can look at each other.

The lights have been switched off, but Maran had put up string lights along the walls. Benny was fond of them now, especially because they made Maran glow softly.

“Titan,” he answers sleepily. Maran’s fingers brush a strand of floppy, pale hair from his face. Benny stifles a yawn straight into Maran’s chest and then raises his head again. “Saturn’s largest.”

Not technically a dwarf planet, but still bigger than any others classified as such. Benny liked Titan, because it was also the first moon he’d ever memorized, and he liked Saturn. The rings. He saw them from the sky once, when he was younger, and his obsession had grown. He doesn’t think Maran is asking for a lecture, though, so he doesn’t continue. He just tucks his face to Maran’s side, nose brusquely close to the mans underarm, where the smell of him is enough to make Benny insane.

“Okay,” Maran says. His fingers draw a path from the nape of Benny’s neck, over his tattooed shoulders. “That’s you, then, alright? To me.”

Benny’s jawline twitches, his teeth grinding together. He tries to swallow down the huffing sound he makes, but it doesn’t work. Instead it comes out a bit strangled and he rolls until he’s on his side, facing away. Maran doesn’t seem to mind—this is a familiar and well loved position. He wraps arms around Benny’s waist, tugging him until his back is to Maran’s chest. A leg slides between his. Benny’s breath catches a few times.

“It’s a cool moon,” Benny says lamely, his throat a little constricted.

“You’re a very cool boyfriend,” Maran replies and it doesn’t sound lame coming from him. It makes Benny snort. It makes him feel so ridiculously loved. And he is.

[like-what-the-fuck-scoob]

Oversized (Bucky x Reader)

Summary: Bucky x reader. You order an oversized hoodie in the mail, and your teammates are obsessed with how cozy it feels, especially Bucky.

Word Count: 1.1k

Content Warnings: Pure fluff. Hugging underneath clothes. Avengers tower fic.

A/N: This fic is a request for the lovely @cherry-season. Thank you for all your support and patience these last few weeks, you're a star! And I loved writing this prompt! As always requests are open, just drop me an ask or inbox me if you have an idea 💜

********************************************

"Oh. My. God." You stifled a laugh as you stepped in front of your bedroom mirror.

You had ordered an oversized hoodie from an online clothing store, but you didn't expect it to be this big. It draped off you like a bed sheet, the sleeves hanging several inches below your wrists, and the bottom falling at your knees like a chunky sweater-dress.

"I mean... the colour is cute I guess?" You chuckled to yourself, gazing over the cherry coloured fabric.

"Y/N! Foods cooking!" Natasha's voice bellowed up the hallway.

"Okay! On my way!" You shouted, still turning your body in the mirror - you looked like a fluffy penguin. But it didn't matter, dinner was almost ready and you needed to head downstairs. Throwing your hair into a quick messy bun, you grabbed your phone and made your way to the living room, dressed in your new attire.

As you approached the lounge, you heard a loud giggle erupt from Natasha, who was perching against the door, drink in her hand.

"What on Earth are you wearing Y/N?"

"Well..." you stuttered, laughing as you went on to explain how you came to be donned in what looked like a red king sized duvet with arm holes.

"You could literally fit a person under there!" Natasha exclaimed as she lowered her head, straightening up against your under layer of a vest top and black leggings as her body seemed engulfed by your hoodie.

You chuckled at her closeness - she was right. Your friend was well and truly wrapped in the fabric.

"Hey guys!" Nat called to the rest of the room. "You gotta try this!"

Turning to face the others, you saw Wanda sitting at the small coffee table, and Tony watching television with Peter seated next to him, phone in hand. To your right, your two best friends Bucky and Steve, sprawled out on the large sofa as they shared the newspaper, catching up on the latest news.

You couldn't help but study Bucky's features as he shifted his gaze to you, following Natasha's words. He was one of your best friends, but you couldn't deny you were falling for him. His dark shoulder length hair framed his face as his piercing blue eyes found yours, goosebumps rising over your body, enamoured with your favourite super soldier.

His brows furrowed as he noticed your breathing hitch. You passed him a soft smile, a small gesture to say I'm fine, as you mentally kicked yourself for being so obviously affected by his company. You were sure he noticed. But it was Bucky, and with you, Bucky always noticed.

"Lemmie try!! It looks super toasty under there!" You broke out of your thoughts at the sound of Peter's voice. Padding over to you, he stuck his head inside your hoodie like an excited puppy. Tony was right, this kid really had no chill. Chortling against your under layer, he wrapped himself like a cocoon, only to emerge after a few seconds with a wide grin.

"Wow, Y/N, you need to wear this more often! You're like a walking radiator!"

Heading over to the last empty space on the sofa, you lay down next to Steve, who curiously peeked over his newspaper to catch a glimpse of the hoodie that had been causing such a ruckus.

"Oh, to be fair Y/N that does look cozy..." he smirked.

You sighed and shook your head with raised eyebrows and a half smile. "Go on then, I know you want too."

The Captain gave a low chuckle, and slid his hand respectfully under the cotton material, careful not to make contact with your skin or under layer. "Woah, it really is like a heated blanket under there."

"Hang on, I gotta try this." Wanda's voice echoed from the other side of the room, as she stepped over to you, squeezing her slim form on the sofa as she moved to face you. In true Wanda style, your friend ducked underneath your hoodie, enveloping you in a tight hug.

"Oh my God Y/N." Her words vibrated against your tank top, causing a giggle to escape your throat. "Tell me I don't have to leave. This is so snuggly."

"Wanda!" You yelled between laughs. "Get out you're making me ticklish!"

As Wanda returned to her seat at the coffee table, Natasha's voice rang out once again.

"Tonyyyy!" She sang. "C'mon you gotta try this."

"Nope. Absolutely not."

"Um..." The sound of someone clearing their throat caught everyone's attention, and all eyes reverted back to... Bucky. "I-I'll try..."

Your heart skipped a beat as your best friend crawled across the couch, positioning himself at the edge of your new hoodie. Looking up at you for confirmation, you nodded sheepishly as he lifted up the material, and nuzzled his head against your torso.

Attempting to remain calm, you focused on taking some deep breaths, knowing full well that if your heart rate increased, Bucky would certainly feel it with his body pressed against yours.

"Mmm" The vibrations of his mouth sent shivers down your lower half. "I could stay here forever doll..."

Unable to contain the smile that crept onto your lips, you sighed in comfort. The look on your teammates faces seemed to share your sentiment, watching you with compassion and smirks of contentment.

"He's like a koala, isn't he?" Wanda whispered delicately, taking in Bucky's beefy physique, gripping to your torso like a baby bear.

Gazing upon the covered brunette with adoration, you began to smooth your fingers over the outer material of your hoodie, placing soft strokes and scratches to the area where his head was underneath.

His breathing began to sound regular and slow - relaxed. Internally cheering, you took it as a sign that he felt comfortable and became more generous with your soothing movements, Bucky's hands now snaked around your waist as he lay consumed in your hoodie.

A few minutes passed, your friends catching your eye with furrowed brows, as Bucky remained still, seemingly rooted to your midsection.

"Buck?"

Soft snores escaped the sergeants lips as you felt his grip on you tighten. He was asleep. The man you love had fallen asleep on your chest, and it was even more adorable than you could have imagined.

"Uhhh, shall I wake him up?" Steve offered, concern lacing his tone.

Your gaze drifted to your Bucky, sleeping soundly against your warm form. For once, it seemed like all his trauma, all his fear, had subsided to be replaced by a reassuring, deep embrace. All because of you.

"No, no." You shook your head and smiled. "He can stay here for a while..."

Suddenly, your oversized hoodie didn't seem like such a joke anymore.

[unknown-writing]

The boys reacting to their s/o pulling themselves out of a Bad Depressive Relapse:

Warning(s): Mentions of depression, Intrusive thoughts, self-destructive behavior’s

A/N: I’m very proud of myself for pulling myself out of my bad depressive relapse episode this morning so, it’s time to write some comfort!

This man is pretty dense when it comes to dealing with other people’s internal suffering tbh.

Like, unless your outwardly showing signs of pain, he won’t fully get it.

He noticed that you were...Not your usual self for a while. A long while at that, it started to worry him that you weren’t laughing with him anymore for that period of your slump.

But, one morning, an early morning that is, you had snuck out of your room that you shared with the girls to find Luffy for some much needed Cuddling.

Ever so quietly moving towards his bed, you slowly climbed in. Him feeling movement on top of him startled him awake but, he kept quiet.

Seeing that you were the one crawling in his bed, literally made him have the biggest grin on his dorky face you’ve ever seen.

“Welcome back y/n-san” He whispered as he pulled you in for a tighter cuddle session, you couldn’t help but chuckle but, you kept quiet to avoid waking the other boys.

Soon enough, it was morning, and the rest of the crew saw that you two were finally cuddling again after your depressive slump.

Nami so took a picture with the Camera-snail for blackmail evidence to tease you with.

Seeing you severely depressed drove him Mad.

Not because he was mad /at you/ But because he was mad at /himself/ for not noticing it sooner than he should have.

Robin tried telling him about your depressive slump but, Zoro was completely clueless on what she was getting at.

“My y/n? Depressed? Why? She looks perfectly fine to me.”

That line was a big mistake on his part since you accidentally heard that, which sort of drove you over the edge again

Ngl, it took him quite a while for him to start making it up to you again after that night. His guilty conscious refused to let him rest peacefully until things where settled between you two again

Weeks went by, and even though most of the Straw Hats assumed you where still depressed, Zoro sensed otherwise.

It seemed like to him that you were finally starting to shed your light again, even if it was a slow start at first.

One day though, while the two of you were on grocery duties to help Sanji since he took the role of guard duty this round. You grabbed his arm and hugged it tightly.

it startled him at first because he thought he was being kidnapped or something, but once he saw that you had just grabbed onto it and acted so casually about it

This mans started to blush a pink hue. A brief silenced filled the air between you two before he spoke up,

“...Y/n-san....” He paused before turning towards you, “Is everything ok now? And I don’t mean that fake bullshit ‘Ok’ either...” he asked while looking concerned

You looked up to him, with the biggest smile he’d ever seen. Even if it was a small one, the fact that you smiled again after so long of not smiling, it drove him Wild.

“Yeah...........Yeah.......Everything’s gonna be ok now.” You started off before holding his hand firmly, “I have my Nakama...And I have you by my side. So, I’m no longer alone anymore.” You smiled again while looking up to Zoro, who still had the blush but, a genuine smile back

“That’s my girl.” Zoro just says while bending down to give you a quick peck on the forehead, which made you blush a deep crimson red seeing as you two were in public still.

Okay but, you /KNOW/ this idiot is gonna think it’s his fault your depressed.

He’ll constantly blame himself for your sadness, as it’s not something that could be easily cured with affection or food.

He’s even more sad when he can’t dote on you so much because it makes you feel even worse.

You have to keep reminding him that this was just how your brain worked sometimes.

It wasn’t until Nami and Chopper explaining it to him properly, is when he started to finally understand that some people just feel down and needed some space for a bit.

Even when he was giving you your personal space, he still made you your favorite foods, making sure that you had stuff to drink and eat even if you were cooped up in your bedroom for a long time.

He won’t admit it directly but, he genuinely misses you. He misses your smell, your touch, your face, your body, your everything.

He especially misses the way you can easily fluster him and make him feel like a King, but he’ll deny those feelings if you asked him though.

A couple of month’s had gone by of this depressive state of yours. it was starting to take a mental tole on himself, knowing that you were stuck in those same four walls, missing everything that was happening, being unable to help you at all during this.

Just as he was about to head towards the sleeping cabin area to drop off your next meal, he’d noticed that your door was slightly open. He blinked, confused and worried that somebody had tried sneaking inside of it somehow.

But soon enough, you had popped out, yawning as you’d just woken up that morning. Nothing had harmed you physically from the looks of it, he looked up and down for a while before placing the food tray on a nightstand to avoid spilling the food.

You turn after hearing the tray clink against the wooden surface, “Oh? Morning Sanji-sa--Ouf!” You where cut off from a tackle hug.

Sanji had wrapped his arms around you tightly, holding you so close to him you were practically choking on his hair. “S-Sanji?? Is everything alright?” You asked, patting his back gently

Your eyes widened as the next thing he did was give you a big passionate kiss on your lips. You felt salty fluids on his face. “Oh.” You thought as you realized what was happening

“I missed you so fucking much y/n-chan.” Sanji says after the kiss. Hearing him say that so bluntly made /you/ turn red-faced and start to stutter.

“....Yeah....I missed you too Sanji-san.” You admitted while smiling again after so long of not showing your smile to anybody. Poor Sanji nearly fainted.

Law knew something was off about you even before you realized it yourself.

You were grumpy, snippy, more “tired” than normal. You had constant mood swings that showed up out of the blue. Everything was just...Off.

It didn’t take much for him to realize that you were dealing with Depression. Although he knew very little of your past, he knew that something was eating at you.

Once your downward spiral of your mental suffering began, you stayed in your bedroom for the majority of the time, refusing to go out even if it was for a general meeting for a mission, or even for food.

Law wasn’t the best at communicating his own feelings towards somebody, so helping his crush with her depression was a little bit harder to do than he thought.

He didn’t realize that you would get so bad that you just woke up absolutely /screaming/ at the top of your lungs during a nightmare. The only reason he knew what was happening was because Bepo went to drop off some food for you, and then ran once he heard the screaming.

After a while of some studying on Depression, Law tried everything that he could to at least /try/ to get you to speak with him...But, after a few weeks of this, he started to get tired of chasing you.

“Y/n-ya...At least let me check for injuries.” He said as he sat on the floor, leaning against your bedroom door with a frown....No response.

He could hear silent sobbing and hiccups behind him, which hurt because he didn’t know how to help you! it drove him Mad!

He was about to give up, sighing in irritation. As he started to walk away, he heard the bedroom door start to click open. You peaked your head out tiredly, face stained with dried and fresh tears, your face all red from not just crying but from stress as well.

Seeing you so Broken hurt him. He’s been there before, he’d never wish to see his friends be broken like this...Let alone his crush.

You opened the door wider so that way he could come in, “...sorry....For the mess...” You weakly spoke, allowing him to enter your room.

Once the two of you were in your room, you had shut the door, then locked it behind you...Eventually turning to face Law, the next moved startled him

You were so tired from the depression night terrors, the screaming, the crying and well...Everything else...That you just fainted into his arms! “Y-Y/n-ya??” He questioned as he stood still. No response...Well, nothing with words anyways. A soft snore leaked passed your slightly open mouth

You had fallen asleep, quite literally in his arms. And he didn’t know how to handle it. You were his crush after all! What was he supposed to do!? Move you away!? Fuck.

He calmed down and carried you bridal style in his arms, thanking God that you were a heavy sleeper, and shuffled his way onto your messy bed, kicking his shoes off at least before getting comfortable.

Another week had passed since that night, and throughout that week, law would give orders to Bepo and Penguin to take control of the ship while he stayed put. he would only move to take a piss/shit or a quick shower before rushing to your side again. He’d forgo the shower if waking you would cause you to feel alone and start crying again.

Once that week had passed though, you had woken up to feel a body underneath you. Blinking, you were confused as to what was happening. You then blushed a deep crimson red seeing Law underneath you, holding you so tightly to him that you could hardly breathe properly because of it.

Law had woken up after feeling your movements to try and get out of bed and take a shower, since you hadn’t taken a proper one in the past three weeks due to your depressive state hitting you like a two ton truck.

You then felt an arm snake around your lower waste, pinning you down of sorts, which made you jump a bit and turn to see who’s it was. Only to see Law wide awake and looking upwards at you

A brief silence filled the room before Law had spoke. “Y/n-ya......You’re Ok.” he says quietly, trying not to startle you...Soon, the memories of what you went through during your depressive state had hit you. You saw everything that happened. And then you saw that Law had tried his hardest to get you to feel ok.

You started to cry again, which made him frown in worry, only to . be taken aback by the sudden tackle hug you were doing, “Law!” You kept muttering in between your hiccupped sobs as you held him.

All Law did was rub your head gently and held you close to him again. He didn’t know how to respond. “....You saved me.....” You commented, now hovering over him with a shaky smile.

Those words. Those three single words made his heart melt with pure happiness. A feeling he hasn’t had in a LONG while. Despite the fact that he hated being called a Hero, if he could save /you/ from death? Then he’ll take being called a Hero by you any day.

You just kept hiccupping as you cried of happiness, but that was easily silenced with Law’s next action. You felt Law’s rougher lips against your own, which easily made you stop crying. He broke the kiss after a while and smiled back, “...I’m glad that your Ok y/n-ya.” he says before pulling you down for another kiss

[elaineiswithyou-blog]

MHA Males Proposal Headcanons

A/N: Denki, Izuku and Bakugou are all aged up and pro heroes

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Izuku Midoriya, Denki Kaminari, Aizawa, and Kurogiri Bakugou (Art Credit to quirked on instagram)

Bakugou and you have been dating for about 2 and a half years now and Valentine’s day was just around the corner. Normally Bakugou and you would stay inside for Valentine’s day, him cooking you a nice homemade romantic dinner before cuddling up in your bed together and hitting the hay. But this Valentine’s day, Bakugou decided to do a complete 180 on you. This year he took the whole day off instead of taking his usual morning/half day shift. He made you a nice breakfast in bed with bacon, eggs and waffles. He slept in with you and cuddled you until you properly woke up. The two of you then went downtown and, despite how much he hates it, goes to mall and goes shopping with you. Whatever you want he got you. Bakugou does his best to avoid paparazzi and fans, his complete attention being on you and only you. After your fancy shopping spree, Bakugou takes you out to get your favorite lunch. He does his best to control his temper that day, especially towards the paparazzi. After the long day out, Bakugou takes you to the spot you two first meet. He had actually been the one to save you from a villain attack at Ueno Park. The sun had just begun to set as he gently takes your hand and the two of you lock eyes. “Listen Y/N, I know I don’t have the best temper and I don’t always treat you perfectly and how you deserved to be treated because of that but I love you Y/N. You are my everything. You are the best spouse anyone could ask for.” He says as he moves to get on one knee while pulling out a dark blue velvet box and opening it to reveal a giant diamond ring. “Will you marry me?”  Izuku (I couldn’t find any credit for the art image, sorry)

You and Izuku have been dating for a little over a year now and now everyone in the press was wondering when Izuku was gonna actually pop the question. It stressed him out a bit thinking about if it was too soon, when he should do it, where he should do it? Izuku had Saturdays off from his hero job and most days he would spend inside with all his attention on you. He didn’t feel like going out most days because he didn’t want to be bothered by paparazzi and fans, despite how much he adored his fans. Today was different though. It was a hot summer's day and the apartment was so hot it felt like an oven. Izuku decided that maybe the two of you should go out. As he was changing and getting ready, he remembered his engagement sitting inside his bedroom drawer, which he was just glad you hadn’t found while cleaning. He quickly grabbed the ring and headed out the door with you. Izuku took you to a big amusement and the two of you spent the day getting junk food, going on rides and just enjoying each other’s company. Luckily, many fans recognized he wished to be alone and respected his wishes though some little kids did run up to him as soon as they saw his face. Towards the end of the day when you were about to go home, Izuku suggested one last ride, a boat log ride, a simple one like it’s a small world at disneyland. Towards the end of the ride though, Izuku turned to you, knowing the cameras were coming up. “Y/N I love you so much, will you marry me?” He asked keeping it simple as he pulled out the ring box and opened it just in time for the picture. Izuku bought the photos right afterwards to have in the future before looking at the ring on your hand more closely. “The ring looks good on you.” He said quietly once you two got in bed for the night. He gave you a gentle kiss on the head. “Goodnight my future spouse.” He said and smiled at you before both of you went to bed Denki (Credit to KayDeeFox on Twitter)

While Denki is not a top 10 pro hero, that doesn’t mean the media wasn’t interested in his love life, especially considering Denki loved to give his S/O a ton of public affection(Hope you don’t mind PDA with this one). Denki is also super popular and you bet he posts everything on social media and I mean everything. He has gotten in trouble a few times with his agency for leaking private info about upcoming missions and such. So needless to say, Denki is very public about his attraction to you and how much he loves you. It’s sweet if you don’t mind that he can be clingy and whiny when you don’t give him a ton of attention. It’s right around your 1 year anniversary and Denki is head over heels in love with you. So much so that his close friends, mainly Mina and Kirishima, encouraged him to propose to you then. He got your favorite non fast food food and Mina helped him get the dining room set up all fancy while Kirishima and Sero went out and got romantic flowers on Denki’s behalf. The three friends had to be super quick, not knowing when you would get home from work, but none of the decoration/planning looked messy. Denki was a nervous wreck though. He took the roses from Kirishima and Sero and sighed as he waited for you to get home. Luckily it didn’t take you too long to get home. Denki quickly slapped on a happy smile for you and gave you a big hug before handing you the flowers. “You look super hot today, Y/N.” Denki said with a wink as he guided you over to the fancy table. After the two of you talk about your day and problems and had your dinner, Denki took the box out of his pocket, without you seeing it. Denki walked over to you. “I know we’ve only been dating for a year Y/N, but I love you a lot. Will you marry me?” After you accept of course, Mina, Kirishima, Sero, Denki and you all go out to get some celebratory dessert. Aizawa (Credit to lani on Twitter)

Aizawa and you have been dating for a while now, and I mean a while. You and Aizawa started dating 6 years ago. Aizawa has always loved you and he always will but this man has serious commitment issues. This man has had the ring for 3 months but nothing. He hasn’t said a damn word about marriage. He tries to do it on multiple occasions, even Christmas but nothing. Then one random weekend day, Aizawa gets up, makes you nice pancakes and just pops the question. “Would you marry me if I asked you?” You almost choke on your pancakes at the question. Of course you say yes though. Aizawa takes out a little red box and hands it to you. He isn’t trying to not be romantic but again this man has commitment issues and if you reject him now it won’t be a waste of time. The diamond ring is expensive and beautiful. He paid a lot for the ring but didn’t say anything about the cost to you. Once he notices you crying, he rushes over to your side concerned. “Did you not like the ring? Was it not as romantic as you wanted? Do you want to start over?” He asked, rambling about it was ok before you pulled him into a hug and told him you loved it. This man has never had such emotional whiplash before over one simple sentence, from you no less. Aizawa gave you a small smile and held you before helping you put on the ring. “I love you.” Kurogiri

You and Kurogiri have been dating for 3 and a half years, taking things nice and slow, neither of you in a rush to get married or have children or anything like that. This is both your second christmas you have both spent together. The two of you enjoying each others company without worrying about the LOV, because let's face it you two are the only functioning adults in that place.  You both love each other a lot and spend a ton of time with one another. You two just had an amazing christmas dinner with ham and mashed potatoes and wine. Now it was time for gift opening. Kurogiri relaxed with you on the white leather couch as you two spent time opening gifts from the different LOV members and then it was time for his and your gifts to one another. Kurogiri opened your present first and then there was his. A tiny box wrapped it penguins that are ice skating wrapping paper. After you take the wrapping paper off, Kurogiri waits there anxiously. He hasn’t felt that way with you in a while. Once you open up the box, Kurogiri gives you a nervous smile. “Will you marry me?” He asks simply as he took the box and got on one knee. A bit unconventional, which was unusual for the old fashioned traditional lover that Kurogiri was, but it got the point across and you accepted, leaving Kurogiri a blushing and smiling mess

[sunflowershouto]

only us - part one (daichi x f!reader x oikawa)

𝐚/𝐧: hi beans! i got this idea for a series listening to one of my favorite albums and i really hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!! there is some canon divergence just for the purposes of the story: daichi is a detective, and oikawa is a pro-player in japan. as always, any feedback is greatly appreciated! enjoy! -leo

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After getting out of a long term relationship, Y/N is reunited with an old friend from college. Old feelings are reignited, but things just don't seem to work out the way that they should.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: pining, mentions of infidelity in the context of a past relationship

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: slowburn, love triangle 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.8k

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨: animal - annie eve

❝𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒊'𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕. . .❞ ❝𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒊 𝒕𝒓𝒚 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆. . .❞

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐔𝐒

‧₊˚✩彡.

The previous weeks had been what Y/N could only describe as a gravity-well, the center of which she was trapped in. She couldn’t outrun the heaviness in her chest, and her mind was all spinning circles and revolving doors that were moving too fast for her to escape from.

However, the pace of her career was relentless, and being a journalist meant that there was no time for her to take pause or wallow in the misery of a freshly-ended relationship—if she wanted to survive in her field, she would have to keep moving and moving and moving, with that gravity-well following overhead.

The soles of her shoes clicked softly against the linoleum tile of the Tokyo Police Department’s main office, her demeanor giving away none of the turmoil that was simmering within. She was polite and professional as she explained that she was a journalist there to speak to one of the detectives about a case she was working on, and to any onlooker, she might have even seemed cheerful.

She was led down a long hallway into one of the offices, given a seat in front of a large mahogany desk, and told to wait.

Y/N found that as of late, she hated having any sort of down-time that might force her into stillness. She couldn’t see the clock that hung over the doorway behind her, but she could hear it—she could feel it. It ticked monotonously, and with each forward stroke of the second hand, she felt like she was sinking further and further into herself. The heaviness in her chest crept up on her and became crushing as she was allowed time to think: about the sight of someone she didn’t recognize lying in her bed, lying in the arms of her partner. About the signs that she had been ignoring for the weeks leading up to it. About how silent her apartment was when she came home in the evenings when there was no one else there to fill the space. It had been months, and she was still trapped as though it had all happened yesterday.

She tapped her foot impatiently against the ground, challenging the slow rhythm of the clock as though the frenzied tempo of her agitation could force the seconds to pass faster.

Eventually, the door behind her swung open, and the detective stepped into the room.

“Excuse me for being so late,” came a deep and almost familiar voice from behind her. She stood and turned to face him, eager for something to snap her out of her trance, but was forced back into stillness as recognition settled over her. “Daichi?”

Sure enough, earnest dark eyes stared into her own, and for a moment, as a wide grin split across his face, the gravity-well that loomed over her finally seemed to let up.

He stepped towards her, both of them abandoning any semblance of formality. “Y/N, I can’t believe it’s really you. It’s been…” “Forever,” she supplied, flashing him a warm and sheepish smile.

“Yeah. Forever.” Daichi’s gaze was piercing as he took her in, staring for just a moment too long before moving to take his place behind his desk. He carded through a few files on his desk before pulling one rather decisively from the stack.

It was Y/N’s turn to stare, taking in the way he moved about his surroundings with relaxed authority, as though he knew exactly where he belonged. He hadn’t changed at all since college, not one bit. She couldn’t take her eyes away, even as he glanced up at her through his lashes, head still tilted down towards the papers in his hands.

She was stuck like that, lost in his dark and steady gaze, her heart seeming to stutter to life in her chest.

“L/N?”

‧₊˚✩彡.

“L/N! Don’t get too far ahead!” Daichi scolded lightly, fondness in his eyes as he watched Y/N skip ahead of him, carnival lights reflecting like stars in her eyes. Her joy was contagious to him, like a flame in his hands that he wanted to keep kindling and protecting.

“Stop being such a worry-wart, Dai,” she laughed over her shoulder. Her arms were wrapped adamantly around the plushie that he’d won her just a few minutes ago, a blue penguin that smiled vacantly no matter how tightly she squeezed him. “Do you think we could go on the Ferris Wheel? I bet we could see the whole city from the top!” He nodded, quickening his pace to keep up with her. They were walking side by side now, and Daichi had made plans for this exact scenario—he’d brush his hand gently against hers, and find a natural opening to intertwine their fingers. The only thing that stood in the way was the round blue penguin that she had named ‘Squish.’ He shot a sidelong glare down at the unassuming plushie that was currently occupying Y/N’s arms, mentally cursing the stupid thing for ruining his plans. “One ride on the Ferris Wheel, and then home, alright? You have a lecture tomorrow and you’ll be grouchy tomorrow if you stay out so late.”

Y/N turned to face him in mock-offense, sticking her tongue out and hugging Squish closer. “What? I don’t get grouchy!”

“Maybe ‘unpleasant’ would be a better wor—agh!” He broke out into warm laughter as her elbow collided softly with his side, and he held up his hands defensively as if to finally relent. “Alright, alright!” “I’ll have you know, I am delightful always,” she insisted, beaming triumphantly.

And there was that smile again, the one that felt like fire in his hands and made his mind go blank and his body feel like there was lightning inside. “Yeah,” Daichi agreed softly.

‧₊˚✩彡.

“And that’s the basics of what we have so far. Unless we have some sort of solid proof, I have no way to make the arrest. It’s been months and… Nothing,” Daichi sighed wearily, flipping the case-file shut and leaning back in his desk chair, a frown etched deep into his features. His coat was draped across the back of his chair and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, markers of the hours that had passed since he and Y/N had begun discussing the Suzuki case.

The department had been investigating Goichi Suzuki for years, with strong suspicion that his company was partially a front for drug-trafficking. Evidence had always been circumstantial, and leads seemed to disappear as soon as they turned up, frustrating even the best of the department’s detectives. Sawamura, however, had refused to give up.

“Daichi.” Her voice was clear, almost lyrical, as she addressed him. Her own concerns were momentarily abandoned as she worked to tether him, to pull him out of the frustration that she knew could be so crippling. “We’re going to catch him.”

“Right.” His expression seemed lighter now, lifted in determination and renewed confidence. “Well… That’s about all we can do today until you can speak to your sources. Thank you for agreeing to help me, Y/N.” It wasn’t what he was saying, so much as how he was saying it—nothing he had said, if repeated back on paper, would sound anything but professional and polite. It was the way that his eyes shone, and his voice warmed up to her like honey on a hot day that told her that his ‘thank you’ was more than just business. She was almost suffocated by how deeply she had missed him, but she knew what this was—she was starting to rebound. She had just gotten out of a relationship that had ended in a messy breakup. Of course her old feelings would be amplified, especially when he was being so damn inviting.

“Of course, Daichi.” She could only watch as he pushed himself out of his chair and circled around to the other side of his desk, then took perch on the front corner just in front of her, his body language now completely casual.

He tilted his head slightly as he took a closer look at her, his face scrutinizing but not-quite judgemental. “So. What’s wrong?”

“Huh?” Y/N shrunk back beneath his gaze, suddenly much more conscious of how she was holding herself, what she was presenting to the world around her. Stop looking at me like that, damnit… Had she really made it so obvious that she was carrying around her own personal baggage? Great. She could add looking unprofessional to her ever-growing list of things to worry about. “What do you mean?”

“It’s been a long time, and you’re good at hiding it, but I still know you well enough to know when something’s bothering you. Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but… What’s the matter?” Daichi leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his legs.

“Well…” Y/N began hesitantly, suddenly unable to meet his eyes, “It’s a bit of a long story, but I just got out of a long-term relationship. It didn’t end very neatly, and I guess I’m still just... “ She trailed off, unable to find a word that could even begin to cover the regret, the doubt, the blame, the unfairness of it all.

“Processing?” he suggested, his tone much gentler than before.

“Yeah. Processing.”

His expression softened into a sympathetic smile, and he brought up an idle hand to scratch the side of his neck. “I’m sure you’ll make it through just fine,” he assured her. “You’ve always been strong.”

Just like it always used to be, Daichi’s reliability was enough to help uplift her, and Y/N found herself mirroring his smile easily, sinking into the comfort of having a friend that she could trust. “Thank you, Dai.”

Days and then weeks went by, and the pair found it easy to mask the tension with the guise of professionalism—stray glances and candid smiles could all be brushed aside as remnants of their old friendship, the foundations of which they had found were still very much in-tact.

Daichi felt a rush of inexplicable pride every time Y/N confided in him, though she only did so in fragments, each of which he remembered carefully to try and piece together later. He could tell whenever they landed on the topic of her last relationship that it was still sore, that he shouldn’t press too hard on a bruise that was still healing. He kept his growing contempt for her ex-partner to himself, though he entertained his own ideas of what he’d like to say to the man if they ever crossed paths. Sawamura didn’t care for unfaithfulness to begin with, but the anger that swelled inside him with each new detail that Y/N shared was almost unjustifiable. Or at least, it would have been, if she was just a colleague to him.

‧₊˚✩彡.

“Sorry for keeping you at the precinct so late.” Streetlights lined their path, showering the detective and the journalist in an unnatural orange light, which was broken sporadically by the brilliant glow of passing headlights that faded into dull red as they disappeared down the road. It had been almost 2 months since their first meeting, and the two had fallen into an easy rhythm, which they used to dance around the growing tension.

“Not at all,” Y/N assured him, shoving her hands deeper into her coat pockets as frigid air bit harshly into the exposed skin. “I think we made some really good progress today! The overtime was definitely worth it.”

“Right…” he agreed absently, watching her in his periphery before sneaking a longer look. The streetlamps shone in her eyes like those carnival lights had all those years ago, and he was reminded of the flame in his hands, which now seemed to flicker just out of reach. He knew it was wrong of him to allow his feelings to be reignited, and on more than one count. She had confided in him the details of a traumatic breakup, not to mention the fact that they were currently acting as partners on a professional level. Logically, he knew all of these things, and Daichi had always been good at logic. It was how he kept his cool under pressure, and the reason that he was a detective at all—but right now, logic was the furthest thing from his mind. The girl that he had once been in love with had fallen right back in front of him, like the world was handing him a chance on a silver platter. He’d be a damned fool not to take it.

For a moment, their staggered steps and the occasional passing car were the only sounds to ease the tension. The hum of the city, which Sawamura usually found comforting, was now taunting, like a thousand flies buzzing in the distance. Finally, Daichi spoke again, if only to keep himself from drowning in the silence that hung between them. “Let’s grab dinner, okay? It’s late and neither of us has eaten since we started working.”

Y/N’s response was delayed, and for the first time in weeks, there was an expression on her face that he found himself unable to read. Her pause couldn’t have been that long, maybe a second or two at most, but it was enough time for a simmering anxiety to sweep over him in a wave. And then she smiled again, and it set his mind on fire.

When they stepped out of the restaurant, it was like leaving a time-capsule. Cheap ramen after a night spent studying had been a staple of their friendship in college, and being there again had left them both feeling like the years had melted away around them. Things felt simpler, more carefree than they’d been in months.

“My apartment isn’t far from the train station,” Daichi told Y/N as they stepped back out into the cold. He could feel it, the haze of nostalgia slowly seeping through the cracks in the pavement, getting carried further away by each passing car. “I can walk most of the way with you.”

“Alright,” Y/N agreed tentatively, wrapping her coat tighter around her as they started down the sidewalk. She could feel that the pull between them was growing stronger, that she was starting to open up to him more and more and more, and she was scared that her old feelings for him would spin out of control if she let herself get swept away by the sentimentality that was swelling up inside her. ‘These feelings aren’t real. Rebounding. I’m rebounding.’ She could repeat it to herself as many times as she wanted, but she’d always been a shitty liar—even when it came to lying to herself.

“Can… Can I ask you something?” Daichi finally interjected after about a block and a half of silence. He sounded tense, nervous even, and Y/N could tell that he was preparing to approach a difficult subject—she didn’t have to be the detective to know what.

“Yeah, of course,” she replied, her gaze trained on the pavement beneath her feet, counting the uniform lines in the concrete as she stepped over them. “Anything.”

He took a deep breath, hesitating as though he were expecting his next words to go wrong, but trusting that they were both comfortable in their friendship. “How… How did you find out that Takashi was cheating on you?”

The question hung heavy in the air, settling uncomfortably around her shoulders, and though it was a forward thing to ask, Y/N couldn’t say that it was totally unexpected. They’d been weaving their way through the subject for weeks now—it had only been a matter of time before they finally arrived here.

She was careful not to slow her pace as she formulated an answer in her head, still trying to mask some of the hurt that she was carrying with her. “Well… I had been travelling for work. It wasn’t a long trip, and I wasn’t far; just a weekend a few cities over. But, I finished my interviews ahead of schedule, so I decided to come home early on my last day.” Y/N was forcing her voice to stay even, pacing herself and trying hard not to let herself fall into the weight of her words. She realized now that she hadn’t told this story yet, hadn’t even really let herself process it.

She could feel Daichi staring, and she glanced to the side, knowing that she’d melt under his gaze. “When- When I got back to the apartment—our apartment—it was early afternoon. I didn’t see him anywhere so I thought that maybe he’d run out for groceries or food or, well—it doesn’t matter what I thought, I guess. I went to our room to put my things away and- and he-”

They had reached his apartment now, and they lingered on his doorstep, bathed in the glow of fluorescent lamps.

Daichi watched her with sorrow in his eyes, his gut twisting with the impulse to reach out to her as she began to cry. He was angry—angry at the one who had done this to her, angry at himself for feeling the way he did, wanting the things that he wanted.

“He was in our bed, and she was there too. And he- he was holding her like she belonged there, like- like they had done this a thousand times and-” Her voice finally broke against the lump in her throat, and her hands quickly moved to hide herself as tears spilled freely down the sides of her face. “And I’m not strong, because I just felt so- so stupid, Daichi. For thinking that- that I could ever mean something to someone wh-”

“Don’t,” Daichi interjected softly, finally finding the words to comfort her. Gently, his hands curled around her wrists and pulled them from her face, his own expression distressed as he took in the sight of her like this, overwhelmed by a hurt that she had been hiding and carrying with her for so long. “Don’t. You could. You do. Listen to me; whatever he did, whatever choice he made, it wasn’t about you. Trust me. Please.”

Y/N’s vision was still blurred by welling tears, but nothing could obscure the intensity that burned in Daichi’s eyes as he held her hands away from her face. There was an urgency about him that amplified his usual sincerity until she was consumed by it, by the feeling that she was safe with him.

“Daichi…” she whispered, her voice still watered down as they searched each other’s eyes, every moment leading up to this one playing back in their minds.

He pulled her close against him and held her like he was afraid she’d disappear, his arms tightening as she returned his embrace. He lost himself as she looked up at him with those red-rimmed and puffy eyes, glittering with tears. Before he knew what he was doing, his lips were on hers, and he was kissing her wildly, desperately.

Y/N’s heart stopped as he started, but she kissed back, letting her mind run blank as he pulled her closer into him, comforted by the steadiness of his arms around her. There were sparks between them that she could no longer explain away, lightning that only accompanied love, indisputable proof that he was more than just a friend, that this was more than just a rebound. When he kissed her, she felt alive.

She could hardly breathe when he finally pulled away from her, his eyes wild and drilling into her with a burning intensity.

“Y/N,” he breathed out, just as breathless as she was. “Stay… Stay with me.”

Her back was against his front door, and she knew exactly what that look in his eye meant—it meant that if she followed him in, that this was for real. It meant that she was serious about him, and that he was serious about her, and that they were finally letting this happen as it should have all those years ago.

The words were on her lips when the images came flooding back, of her space in her own bed occupied by another, a stranger lying in the arms of the person who she had chosen to love, to trust. Daichi’s steadiness suddenly became uncertainty, and she found herself wilting away from him.

His arms fell away from her easily, and her heart sank at the tortured look that was written all over his face as she moved away from him. She crossed her arms over her chest, and tried her hardest to at least look him in the eye. “I-I’m sorry, Daichi. I can’t. We shouldn’t.”

“You’re…” Daichi cut himself off, shoving his hands into his pockets and staring down at his feet, a long sigh rolling off his lips. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Y/N. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” As Y/N turned away and headed for the train station, she was forced to reckon with her own conflicting emotions. Being with Daichi had felt so right, so safe, but the thought of taking that risk again, putting herself in a situation where a single person could hurt her so badly… If there was anyone in the world who she thought would never betray her, it was him—but that trust might only mean that she would have farther to fall.

Daichi watched her go, and though he wanted to scream as he watched her silhouette disappear into the night, he had become unequivocally certain that he truly wanted to be with her. It was what he had wanted for a long, long time.

‧₊˚✩彡.

Y/N had gotten into work that morning and immediately been scheduled to conduct a last minute interview—one of the writers for the paper’s sports column had needed to attend to a family emergency, leaving her to cover for him in his absence. She wouldn’t need to visit the precinct today, something she was almost grateful for. There was an almost unfathomable level of awkwardness between her and Daichi, and not having to see him made it that much easier to try to forget what had happened on his doorstep two weeks ago.

She stepped into the designated meeting room, notepad in hand as she slid into the seat across from the athlete that she was supposed to be interviewing. “Hi,” she began, giving him her usual professional hospitality. “I’m L/N Y/N, it’s nice to meet you— I’ll be interviewing you today.”

“Hello,” he almost seemed to chirp, leaning back into his chair and shooting her a charming, coy smile. “I’m Oikawa. But with a face like yours, I’ll let you call me Tooru.”

[join-the-joywrite]

and I don't want to (but I love you)

@jatp-week Day 6: favourite trope

Not me doing a self-indulgent and stupidly long enemies to lovers au :>

Julie Molina didn't have enemies in her life. She had competitors, sure. Everyone did. But Sunset Curve took the whole cake. She didn't have enemies but Luke Patterson came dangerously close.

Luke Patterson, on the other hand, fully considered Julie Molina his number one enemy. He had zero qualms about saying that to her face and behind her back. He knew his band was the best but Julie had a real knack for knocking his ego down a bit and he hated her for it. Maybe he wouldn't get so riled up if she was nice about it or if not nice, she was less nasty and more stern. Honestly, it seemed like she took pleasure in criticizing Sunset Curve.

The rivalry between them extended to their bands and friend circles. Well, for the most part, anyway. Julie and Luke let Willie and Alex get away with their little forbidden lovers thing because they both thought the pair was cute together. It was pretty much the only thing they agreed on. Ever.

Willie only ever talked about Alex, not the band and Alex made sure to steer clear of mentioning Julie whenever he talked about Willie. The arrangement worked for all sides.

Julie and Luke's rivalry extended far beyond their music. It crept into their classes and had them fighting for the top spot. The teachers were thrilled. It meant Luke put in as much effort as he possibly could into every assignment or test. Even if it was out of pure spite, it was working.

And then, oh dear, and then there was a group project. Obviously, they split to opposite ends of the room with their friends to choose pairs (except Willie and Alex, who were shoved together and assured it was perfect) but apparently, it was important to learn how to work with people you dislike because in the workplace you might be forced to work with people you dislike -- or something like that.

Julie and Luke had never let their rivalry coerce them into doing stupid things -- except the one time where Carrie was convinced Luke could hold his breath longer and Julie almost drowned in the school pool to prove Carrie wrong -- but the moment they were paired up, Julie and Luke both wanted nothing more than to break several school rules, vandalism being the top one and starting violent fights being the second. It was unclear if they wanted to fight each other or their teacher.

Matters were made worse when their friends got to pair off together on their own terms while they were stuck with each other. The only thing keeping them from completely refusing to do any work was that they both were still competing for the highest scores.

Their friends had never been more entertained and the two opposing groups bonded over watching the two most stubborn people they knew suffer out a school project together. The clear awkwardness between them was hilarious and it was a pleasant thing to see them sitting at the same table and not trying to verbally murder each other. Bobby turned out to be the funniest person in the whole group. He had a meme-y caption for every moment they caught of Julie and Luke sitting near enough to have a normal conversation and the others loved it. He also seemed to be able to relate all the memes to the pair and was strangely good at photoshop, which earned him the Groupchat King title. (Julie and Luke were completely unaware of this groupchat excluding only them -- which, for the others' safety, was for the best.) Flynn's favourite was a photo of Julie with a feral look on her face, miming strangling a smug Luke. Me & 2020 was Bobby's winning caption. She wasn't sure which was which and that made it even better, in her opinion.

As the weeks passed, Julie and Luke's rivalry mellowed. As far as they said, it was still going strong but their actions told another story. There were playful nudges in the hallway, now. Teasing death glares across a classroom. Locked gazes and stifled giggles at inside jokes -- the fact that they even had those was surprising enough. They willingly shared a lunch table for the sole purpose of interrupting a mini date between Willie and Alex but most of it was spent in their own world anyway. Their mockery of each other had become gentler and more harmless teasing than anything.

And then one Tuesday, Luke didn't show up at school.

Of course, Luke's band knew exactly what was up, but they -- with support from Julie's friends -- decided it would be fun to play dumb and send Julie to Luke's house, just to check up on him, you know, despite the fact that the group project was long over and she really had no need to meddle further into Luke's life. The mere fact that Julie forgot she still had class and was seriously ready to leave immediately said a lot.

"I can promise you that it's really not as bad as it looks," Luke said from under several pillows, a puffy duvet and maybe three stuffed animals, "but there's no band practice today and I'm not coming to school tomorrow either so can one of you flick Julie's forehead for me? It's tradition."

"Band practice, huh?" Julie said, dropping her bag on the floor with a soft thud. "And here I thought you just had nothing more interesting going on in your life than disrupting mine."

Luke sat up fast enough that his head spun, his vision swam and two pillows fell off the bed. "Who told you where I live?"

"You did, dork. Here, I brought your homework and my dad's trying something out in the kitchen. He misread balf the recipe so it's the blandest thing I've ever tasted but if you're sick, it'll be good for you."

Luke responded to the bit that made sense. "I don't want bland food," he said, scrunching up his nose as Julie set a small stack of papers on the desk in the corner and walked up to him with a covered bowl.

"As if you'd know the difference. Your mom said you can't taste anything anyway."

"You talked to my mom?" Luke asked, looking mortified.

"Yeah, duh. What, did you think I climbed through your bedroom window? I don't care that much for you."

"Aww, I knew you cared for me."

Julie didn't respond to it. "So this is supposed to be a vegetable stew," she said, tapping the plastic wrap over the bowl, "but like I said, mistakes were made."

"Well, what is it then?" Luke asked, leaning over to peer at the bowl.

"I'd call it . . . semi-flavoured water with surprise veggies."

"Joy."

"I know, right? Anyway, I'll leave you to your . . . pillow fort? Cute stuffies. I have the same penguin."

Luke glanced at the penguin that was still secured in his arm. "Don't you dare tell your friends. Especially not Flynn. She's ruthless."

"She is not. But fine, only because you're sick. I'll be back for my bowl tomorrow and it better be empty."

Luke watched Julie leave with a look of amazement. As soon as he heard his front door close, footsteps pattered through the hallway, leading up to his mother sticking her head in his room. "I like her."

"I'm going back to sleep," Luke said, diving back into the safety of all his pillows, wondering if it was the fever or Julie that set his cheeks blazing.

Probably the fever.

"Good afternoon, dork. Reggie says you said you liked the semi-flavoured water and my dad felt very appreciated by that so he's made some actual stew for you to try. It's beef stew this time so please don't get surprised. Did you do yesterday's homework? You should, because I brought today's. How do you feel?"

Luke, who had been staring at Julie with his mouth slightly open in a perfect picture of surprise, blinked when he realised she'd stopped speaking. "Don't you knock?!"

"Your mom said you were asleep and I could just leave everything here for you but you were awake so. . ." Julie trailed off, shrugging.

"You . . . you are so strange."

Julie shrugged as she set the homework down on the desk and walked up to the nightstand to put the covered bowl down in Luke's reach. "You need to come back to school. I feel bad bullying your friends."

"I'm sure they'll be glad to hear that," Luke said sarcastically. He paused for a second. "Yeah, I did the homework. Most of it. My mom said it'll help to get out of bed and do something. I tried to play the guitar but she was adamant I didn't do that something."

Julie nodded and walked back to Luke's desk. She rifled through the mess and picked up all the homework. "I'll finish this essay for you," she said almost absently, searching among the pages. "Please tell me you did your science homework. I got a lot of that wrong and no one wants to give me the answers because apparently, I should learn my work."

"Uh . . . yeah. Um, yeah, I did the science. Wh-- what do you mean 'do the essay' for me?"

Julie looked up as she gathered everything into a pile of messy and uneven papers. "It's on the African American civil rights movement. It's factual and ninety percent of the class will have the same essay anyway so--"

"No. No, I mean . . . why?"

"Oh. Uh . . . why not?"

Luke didn't have a response, so he fell silent.

"Well, that's all of yesterday's homework. Get some rest and then make sure you eat. I can't have my favourite punching bag get too weak to take a hit."

As Julie turned and left his room, Luke felt the sudden urge to scream, so instead, he slammed his burning face into his favourite penguin. Yes, she had called him a punching bag, but she'd also called him her favourite.

"Music class just isn't the same without booing you. Also, Alex said you managed to keep the beef stew down yesterday so my dad thought you could try something a little heavier. This is an experimental chicken and fried rice . . . thing. I do not reccomend eating unless you're sure you're okay enough for a full meal. That said, I brought more beef stew in case you're not up for the chicken and rice."

"You can't just walk in unannounced!" Luke cried as Julie set down the two bowls on the nightstand.

"I can, actually," Julie said, flashing a set of keys at Luke.

Luke's jaw dropped when he recognized the keychains. "Hey, those are mine!"

"Wow, so observant. Your mom gave it to me before I left yesterday because your dad is at work and she needed to go out today and with you holed up in here, there wouldn't be anyone to open for me."

Luke frowned. "Oh, yeah, she said something like that but I was half-asleep."

Julie was pleasantly surprised to find Luke's homework neatly gathered at the corner of the desk. It didn't escape her how Luke seemed to glow with pride when she commented on it. She had to fight a smile as she dropped Luke's homework into her bag.

"Get some rest, dork. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call someone from Sunset Swerve. I'll be busy."

"It's Sunset CURVE and you know it."

"Really? I never noticed."

Luke pouted. "Tuxedo Sam says you're being very mean right now. I'm sick and I deserve care."

"Well, you can tell your stupid penguin that Skipper will beat his ass."

"You named your penguin after the penguins from Madagascar?"

"You call yours Tuxedo Sam."

"Yeah, okay, that's fair."

Julie rolled her eyes and turned to leave. "Take a nap, Moody McSleeveless."

Luke glanced at the penguin laying nearby as he heard Julie lock up the house again. "Don't look at me like that, she's mean all the time."

"I BROUGHT CAKE!"

Luke scrambled up, launching Tuxedo Sam off the bed. "Who died?"

"No one died," Julie said, picking up the penguin as she walked up to Luke's bed. "It's Friday and since you're doing a little better, I thought you could do with a small treat. Tuxedo Sam agrees."

"Give me back my penguin," Luke said, reaching both arms out to Julie.

"Did you do yesterday's homework?"

"Yes."

"Did you really eat both bowls of food yesterday?"

"Yes."

"And keep it down?"

"Yes, ma'am, now can I please have my penguin back?"

Julie passed Luke the stuffed animal. "You're adorable," she blurted, turning away immediately to hide her own stunned look. She cleared her throat as she headed to the desk to grab Luke's homework. "So, that group project? We got a ninety-five."

That distracted Luke easily enough. "What happened to the other five?!"

"We're very bad at teamwork," Julie said, glancing back at Luke over her shoulder to see him relax against the pillows.

"Ah. That . . . makes sense."

Julie nodded. "Mhm."

The silence that blanketed the room wasn't as awkward as it should have been.

"I have to go. Most of the teachers said it would be okay to get your homework on Monday, but Mr Hughes is on my tail about your chemistry paper. My dad is making cupcakes tonight for some reason and I told Willie he could have some, so I'll send extra with him to give to Alex to give to you, but enjoy that crappy store cake for now. I left proper lunch with your mom for when you feel like it."

It didn't register that the only reason Mr Hughes would be harassing Julie about Luke's homework was if Julie herself had taken responsibility for Luke. Well, it did register, but by then, Julie was long gone and the only response Luke could muster was a muffled scream into poor Tuxedo Sam.

"Oh, ew, gross. Luke, it smells like the middle school locker room in here. What were you doing?"

Luke had never looked more sheepish in his life as he pointed to the canister on his nightstand -- right next to his alarm clock. "My phone went off about an hour ago and I thought it was the alarm so I did the smart thing and slammed it down but I missed. Obviously."

Holding her nose, Julie dropped everything she was carrying on Luke's table and tore the curtains open, pushing the windows as far as they could go. She stood there for a moment, relishing in the fresh air. "I'll come back inside when I can breathe," Julie said, halfway out the window.

Luke wanted to melt into his pillows. A week later and he was only feeling slightly better. The pros of it was that Julie visited every day with something tasty and a level of snark that only amused him. The cons of it was that Julie visited every day and left him flustered and red in the face.

He firmly believed that Julie only came by every day because she had homework to drop off, but today was Saturday. There was no more homework to drop off.

And she could have just backtracked right out the door again but instead, she headed for the windows on the other side of his room. Why?

Because she's taking care of you, dork.

Luke couldn't help but think that the logical voice in his head sounded suspiciously like Julie.

"Hey, my parents have some stupid couple's yoga thing on Saturdays. Did you break in?"

Julie pulled the windows halfway closed and stepped back into the room. "No, I still have your keys. Your dad tried to give me the spare key to the front door but your mom said it'll be fine if I kept yours until you're back on your feet."

"Wow. She really trusts you, huh?"

Julie shrugged. "I'm a very trustworthy person."

"No, you're not. I saw you lose a pen that you stuck behind your ear and then you proceeded to lose three more by tucking them behind your other ear and in your pockets. You then tried to steal mine."

"I was fourteen," Julie said defensively.

"It happened last week!"

"I felt fourteen."

Luke gave Julie a deadpan look.

"Cute pyjamas."

"I know, right? Bobby got us matching ones when we were like fifteen for band bonding. I mean, I grew out of the pants but the shirt still fits."

Julie scoffed as she stared at the dark haired cartoon smiling at her from the pink shirt. "Looks really good on you, Skip."

"Hey, I like being Skipper. She's Barbie's most intelligent sister."

"Oh, yeah?" Luke didn't even notice that Julie had made herself comfortable at the foot of his bed. "And if you're Skipper, who are the others?"

"Bobby is Chelsea, 'cause he's the youngest of us, Alex is Barbie, 'cause his summer jobs have been everywhere, and Reg is Stacie, 'cause she's Bobby's favourite and Bobby's favourite bandmate is Reg."

Julie's head tilted slightly. "You sound drunk."

"The bottle said one teaspoon of cough syrup but I didn't read and I took two tablespoons. It's okay, though. Mom panicked and called the doctor and he says the cough syrup he gave me is for kids and I'm just really, really, really intolerant. Which you should remember for me because I plan to be super famous with the band and there are gonna be a lot of after parties and I don't wanna get drunk five minutes in. I think the cough syrup is kicking in."

"Luke Patterson, you are unbelievable."

"I know, right?" He attempted a winning smile, but it came off as plain childlike.

Julie chastised herself for finding him adorable. They were mortal enemies and she had to remember that. Then what are you doing in his room on a Saturday, after explicitly telling the rest of his band to stay away?

Julie found it unnerving how much the voice in her head sounded like a teasing Luke.

"You're like, really annoying."

Julie frowned. "I -- I'm sorry?"

"You should be." Luke was sitting cross-legged now, fiddling with the ears of a stuffed bunny. "It's really messing with my head."

Julie decided she liked tipsy Luke -- even if it was just cough syrup. "How so?"

"No, it's nothing."

"You can tell me, Luke. I promised not to tell anyone about your stuffed animals and I kept it, right?"

"Yeah, but this time the secret about you. You're not allowed to know."

Curiosity more than anything made Julie lean forward slightly. "It'll be our secret."

"Okay, but you have to promise not to talk about it."

Julie nodded quickly. Luke tugged at the bunny's ears for a moment.

"You're like . . . really pretty."

Julie couldn't help the soft laugh that bubbled out of her. Adorable, she thought.

"Like, a lot of pretty. You're pretty on the inside, too."

"On the inside?"

"Yeah. On the inside. You know, your heart."

"M-my heart?"

Luke nodded at his stuffed rabbit. "Yeah. You have a really pretty heart. It beats like a drum. Making music. Like you."

Julie's mouth hung open, surprise silencing her.

"You have the prettiest music in you. I can hear it like -- like a song that gets stuck in my head all day. It's really annoying but it's so pretty. It smells like flowers and it looks like butterflies."

At this point, Julie didn't think she'd be able to speak, even if she knew what to say. Luke was talking to the stuffed animal, frowning as he struggled to voice his thoughts understandably.

"Sometimes it's just so loud and I wanna cover my ears and run away but it just gets louder and louder and then you come over and you're saying something mean but the music is there and it's not so loud anymore but I still can't hear anything else. Your heart sounds like a ballad."

Julie was frozen to her seat at the edge of the bed. Part of her wondered if it was Luke talking or the fever. Part of her desperately hoped it was Luke.

"Julie, you are music."

It was a simple sentence. Anyone could have said it. It could mean a lot or it could mean nothing at all. If anyone else had said it to her, she would have taken it as the highest form of a compliment. But that wasn't what Luke was saying.

Everyone knew that Luke spoke best through lyrics and chords. His books and desks were covered in etched notes and scribbled words. Luke lived and breathed music. It was everything to him. Without it, Luke didn't know who he was.

And he compared it to Julie.

Julie stared at the text on her phone. She bit her lower lip, unsure of what to say in response.

Mom said you visited yesterday. I was dazed for most of it. I didn't say anything stupid or incriminating, right? Not that anything could be more incriminating than the three stuffed animals on my bed.

Ten minutes after that, another had come through. Jules, are you ignoring me? Did I do something?

Then another five minutes later. This is still Julie Molina's number, right?

Julie quickly typed out something before she chickened out again and tossed her phone to the foot of her bed once it was sent.

Hey. Got busy in the kitchen with dad. No, you're good. See you at school tomorrow?

Julie scrambled for her phone to send one last word.

A few streets away, Luke stared at the word 'dork'. He was sure he had said something. He vaguely remembered yapping on about music to Julie -- duh, what else did they share? -- and then suddenly, she wasn't there anymore. He wondered if he'd fallen asleep talking and Julie had left then or if he really had said something to make her leave.

Yeah, he wrote back, see you at school.

Luke cornered Julie as soon as he caught sight of her in the school hallway. "You've been ignoring me and I don't like that."

Julie squeaked. "I most definitely am not ignoring you."

"Julie, you're pretty much the only person in this school that doesn't keep their phone on mute or vibrate. I know you heard my texts yesterday."

"So what if I am?" Julie asked, folding her arms. "We're not friends, so why should you care if I reply to your texts or not? In fact, why were you even messaging me in the first place?"

While Luke fumbled for a response, Julie slipped past him and continued on her way to class.

"Oh, that is just rude!" Luke yelled after Julie.

She ignored him all through any classes they shared and when lunch rolled around, she made sure to sit with Carrie and Flynn at a small table. Luke had never looked more offended in his life as he joined Reggie in sitting with Alex and Willie.

"What did you do on Saturday?" Alex asked, leaning forward to whisper. "Julie was fine when she told us we don't need to come by at all."

"Julie told you not to come over?" Luke asked, ripping his gaze from Julie to Alex and then Reggie, who shook his head.

"Bro, she actually called Alex and told him that we don't need to come see you because she was going to."

"Yeah, I remember her being there but I was drugged up on cough syrup."

"Weak," Alex whispered loudly, grinning when he made Willie laugh.

"Maybe you said something?" Willie suggested.

"Yeah, probably! But she's not talking to me. She's not even insulting me, which I would very much prefer over this apathy."

"You know where she lives," Reggie said dismissively. "Maybe you should pay her a visit."

Luke glanced across the cafeteria to see Julie quickly whip her head down to stare at her fold. "Yeah. Maybe."

Julie was tired and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. Her plans were thrown way off the rails when she walked into her room and found Luke petering around the shelves beside her bed.

"What are you doing here?"

Luke drew his hand back sharply. "Cute box. What's in it?"

"None of your business," Julie snapped, hurriedly closing her bedroom door. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you but you were ignoring me and--"

"You could've just yelled at me from outside," Julie hissed. "I would have come down to shut you up! You can't be in here. Get out of my room."

"No. Not until you tell me why you've been avoiding me since Saturday. Jules, what--"

"Fine! Go and wait for me in the garage. I'll come talk to you in there."

Luke hesitated, unsure if Julie was serious.

When she heard footsteps getting closer, Julie grabbed Luke by the neckline of his shirt and dragged him to the window. "Get out," she whispered hurriedly, "I'll come down to the garage, I promise."

Thankfully, by the time her father arrived, Luke was gone.

"Who were you talking to, mija?"

"Luke," Julie said with a smile. She pointed at the phone. "He liked the cupcakes I sent with Willie."

"Oh, that's great. You didn't take something yesterday and today? Is he feeling better?"

"Much," Julie said, nodding, "in fact, we have some talking to do, so I'm gonna meet him in the garage in a few minutes."

"So late?"

Julie absolutely could not lie to her dad. But she could do half truths. "It's a long overdue discussion."

"School work?"

Julie shrugged. "Music."

"Ah. The garage makes sense. Well, do you wanna take some food down? Midnight snack?"

"Thanks, dad," Julie said with a smile, "you're the best."

"Oh, your dad is the best!" Luke cried as soon as he saw Julie walk in with a plate of cookies.

"These are experimental, too. They're some kind of oatmeal and choc mint blend. They taste good, in my opinion."

"Everything your dad makes tastes good," Luke said, grabbing three cookies. "My mom's starting to get jealous of how much I love your dad's cooking."

Juli smiled and set the plate down on the coffee table. Was there any point beating around the bush? Sugarcoating things?

"You told me I was music."

Luke paused, one and a half cookies gone. "What?"

Julie kept her gaze trained on the tassels of the carpet. "You told me I'm annoying . . . because I'm pretty. Because I have a pretty heart. You said it beats like a drum and I have the prettiest music in me that gets stuck in your head. It --"

"Smells like spring and looks like butterflies. . ." Luke looked positively mortified.

Julie, refusing to look up, did not notice. "You said . . . you said my heart sounds like a ballad and then -- and then you told me I am music."

Had he really said all that aloud? Well, no wonder Julie was avoiding him like the plague.

Julie tensed up when she could see Luke's feet step in front of her. Almost every part of her screamed that this was wrong. They shouldn't be so close without bickering and fighting. But deeper within, beyond the confines of logic and sense, Luke's voice told her that this was the furthest thing from wrong.

"I said all that? Aloud?"

Julie nodded.

"You know what music is to me."

Julie nodded again.

"Jules," Luke said gently. "Julie, look at me."

Julie refused to, so Luke gingerly tucked his finger under her chin and lifted her head, waiting until her gaze fell on him before speaking.

"You know what music is to me," he said again, prompting another nod from Julie. "Then you know what you mean to me."

Julie blinked a few times and shook her head. "No. No, that's just the fever talking. You -- you didn't really mean all of that."

"If you really believe that, why are you avoiding me?"

"I . . . I don't know."

Luke dropped his hand to take hold of Julie's. He glanced at her, waiting for her to pull away. When she didn't, he interlocked his fingers with hers. "I meant every word. Okay, maybe not literally, but you know what I mean."

Julie shook her head. "We're not even friends, Luke."

"Hm, well, who said I wanted to be your friend?"

Julie wanted to hate Luke. She wanted to loathe the sight of him. She didn't want to like him, let alone love him.

And yet, she did.

So before the overthinker in her could stop her, Julie leaned up on tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. Luke beamed at her like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Not the response I was expecting, but definitely one I'm enjoying."

"Don't make me regret it."

"Yes, ma'am. Now, what are my chances of getting two more? And one for the road? Within the next five seconds becaus my mom doesn't know I snuck out and she think I'm still sick."

"Dork," Julie said fondly, shaking her head.

"I'm serious!"

"You can have two."

"Three."

"Two."

"Four."

"One."

"Two will do," Luke said, letting go of Julie's hands to wrap his arms around her. He gave her a small squeeze. "Plus a hug."

"Dork," Julie said again. But he was her dork and he was her favourite.

Before anyone comes for me about the cough syrup thing, I'm drawing from experience. I mean I never confessed my undying love for anyone but I did blurt out some weird shit. Also, THAT WAS LONG AND IF YOU SURVIVED THE ENTIRE THING, CONGRATULATIONS TO YOU

Mara's masterlist

[jjuzoir]

Requests are open? Yay!! I would like to request some Hisoka(A3!) dating headcanons? Please and thank you!!!

Hisoka Mikage Relationship HC

A/N: ahh;; sorry it took me so long TT i’ve been soo busy;; but it’s done;; ahh,,, this is from before i learned what formatting was so bear with me bbs

- You worked for Homare’s publisher, you were one of the editors and had been asked to meet up with him! He was busy so you ended up having to go over to his dorm instead of the usual meeting spot.

- It was during that meeting, which had been held at his room, where you met Hisoka.

- You were confused at first, you almost thought he was a corpse and were close to calling the police on your client when suddenly the white haired man began moving, much to your surprise.

- “I smell�� marshmallows.” He mumbled, his voice was soft and rough - completely different to Homare’s.

- “Oh? Ah- I guess that’d be me, I had a few earlier in the train,” you awkwardly laughed; the first thing the man had said revealed your glutinous pattern of eating soft sweets whenever you were nervous about a meeting.

- During your embarrassment- and while Homare was thankfully out of the room getting you two some tea- Hisoka finds himself seated opposite of you staring at you with tired eyes.

- “Do you have any left?”

- “Marshmallows? Mhm, I have a bag left- oomph!”

- Just as you were offering them to Hisoka, he quickly gobbled the remaining sweets before you could finish your sentence.

- And that’s how you spent your first home-meeting with one of your publishers most prized poets- feeding a sleepy white haired man marshmallows.

- Luckily for you, the meeting went well and two new book deals had been made with the writer; because of this, your boss decided to assign you to Homare’s future projects and that’s how you quickly became a common guest at the Mankai dorms, specifically Hisoka and Homare’s room.

- At first, you doubted you’d ever get close to Hisoka. After all, he was always sleeping or tired and you’d almost never hang out if it wasn’t for Homare and you being business partners.

- Not that you minded much, you knew to keep a distance and professional demeanor with Homare, and in turn with his friends; that’s what you thought until you found Hisoka resting his head on your lap.

- You were taken off guard, the man was sudden and didn’t ask you but you didn’t mind, what you didn’t know at the time was that you two were making progress into a possible relationship. Even then, you don’t really think you would’ve rejected or moved him.

- Soon, Hisoka and you began talking, having actual conversations, whenever Homare was out of room about things other than marshmallows and work, all while he rested his head against your lap.

- “Mikage, could I ask you something? Why do you insist on laying on my lap?”

- “It’s… more comfortable than any pillow I have and... you're warmer too.”

- After that, you began playing with his hair, a habit you didn’t even really notice until he pointed out and insisted you continue, and he began smiling and talking more around you, to the point even Homare began taking note of the slow but steady progress.

- “It seems Hisoka has caught himself a romantic partner~ Ah, such beauty! To see your dear friend fall into the arms of a lover!”

- “Hisoka found himself a what?!”

- And then; he asked you out on a “date” (probably pushed by Azuma and Homare to hurry up), it wasn’t really a date more like a hang out between friends, though a part of you didn’t mind adding a fancier label to it (not that you’d say it aloud).

- You two went out to watch a movie, it’d been a long day of work for you and, instead of him laying on you, you found your head smacking straight down on his shoulders the minute you sat down.

- Hisoka smiled at your sleeping face and let you rest, afterall he couldn’t count how many times he’d done so with you.

- After the movie was done, the two of you went out to eat and in the middle of lunch he asked you out, but properly this time (his previous attempt was “Let’s watch a movie, if you want to, I’ll pay.”)

- “You know… I really like you,” Hisoka mumbled as he munched on his marshmallow ice cream, “Would you go out with me?”

- He made eye contact with you and smiled and your heart kind of just, stopped for a second. You ended up saying yes to being a thing officially, sure this was your first date but you’d been hanging out for a few months by then and you couldn’t lie to yourself and say you weren’t attracted to the green-eyed man.

- Homare was so happy when he found out; “My best friend and my publisher are in love~ This merits a poem, no! A novella!”

- Since Hisoka doesn’t have a phone, you and him stay contacted mainly through Homare and you calling the Mankai’s home number; which can lead to some awkward encounters when other people pick up but you get used to it’s

- When you two hang out, it’s normally inside of the dorms or at your place; very rarely will your dates take place outside, not that you really cared.

- His favorites are the ones where you two can lay in your bed/couch and eat marshmallows together and watch movies (he really likes movies about cats [he made you watch Cats 2019]).

- If you two do go outside for a date, I can see him liking to go cafe testing- especially if there’s marshmallows involved. He may let you take him shopping or stuff, wouldn’t mind testing beds with you; not because you’re planning on moving in together but it’s just… a more socially acceptable way to nap in malls. He’s got no shame, would absolutely tell workers to not wake him up and it has gotten the two of you stuck in a closed mall before.

- “Hiso, we’ve been here for two hours sleeping. Can you please wake up? Homare thinks you’re dead.”

- Hisoka may not look like it, but he’s very warm, literally, the man is constantly in the perfect cuddling temperature.

- He’s not very affectionate in the,,, in the normal sense at least, he shows it by giving you marshmallows during the day or just taking you places to nap together.

- Hisoka’s kind of awkward, but he legitimately tries his best with you and expresses his emotions.

- He only really asks of you to be patient with him and his memory loss, he’s kind of… self conscious about how messy and foggy his past is sometimes.

- If you can, he wouldn’t mind slowly trying to remember things; just don’t pressure him please!

- Also! Would buy you a penguin plushie for you, he says it’s so Pen-Pen can finally have a s/o since he has one too.

- (Call ‘em Guin-Guin so when you say their names it’s Pen-Pen & Guin-Guin, okay thank you!)

- He may not be the most active and energetic lover; he’s more of a silent admirer.

- Sometimes, he wakes up and likes watching you sleep and how calm you look; it makes him happy and feel calm.

[abloomntime]

A Bloom In Time Ch13 Dealing With The Past P2

"WHEN were you going to tell me about this exactly?!," Snatcher whisper screamed at the little girl.

Finding out Poppy was ok was a MAJOR relief of the girls' heads and Snatcher had allowed her to be lead into his home where she could rest for a small while. Currently she was sitting on the footrest he never really used since, well he had no legs and was slightly scowling picking all the leaves and sticks from her tangled, messy hair. Bow was currently resting and was absolutely THRILLED to discover the thing she thought was a weird plant randomly put on Snatcher's chair was in fact. A cat. And Bow having been raised in the Nyakuza City surrounded by cats was of course adored all things kitten like. She had shouted 'A kitty!' quite loud when Rough Patch woke at the sounds of new comers to his home. Of course being the lovable creature he was, didn't even fight back when the young girl picked him up and held him. He just did was he usually did, lazily lay there and purr as Bow curiously pet his leaves. Snatcher had pulled the little girl aside once he had the chance and demanded to know what the peck was going on around here?! Poppy had also wearily been glancing at the few subconites that had gathered around around and peered curiously at her while she did so, but Snatcher had assured her they wouldn't harm her. Besides, they couldn't even harm a small mushroom even if they tried, let alone a grown woman who once upon a time sold flowers to them at one point.

"Um...B-Boss?" One of his minions had tottered over to him and pointed a hand at Poppy worriedly. "I-Isn't that-"

They were hushed up when Snatcher snapped a deep scowl towards them and hissed. Some of the minions still had their memories after death and it looked like they recognized her as much as he did. "Yes. And if any of you say a word of that to her, you'll be put on 'checking the manor' duty! Not ONE word out of any of you!"

The minion looked suddenly nervous and backed off. "Y-Yes, Sir! No, Boss! Right away!" Before he ran back off towards the small group. Not wanting to risk being put on that duty.

Satisfied he snapped back towards the little girl who looked back up to him without so much as a shread of fear, as if used to his anger by now. "Now what in the pecking world is going through that little head of yours?! She told me you let her fall from the sky like a rock! Are you just an expert at dropping things from the sky, kid?"

She pouted like any child her age would. "I didn't mean to! I didn't know she'd be so heavy for teleporting with me! And she's ok so everything's ok, right?"

......He literally facepalmed himself and dragged his claws down his face before looking back at her. "That ISN'T the point, Kid! You gotta be more CAREFUL with these things. Especially when you KNOW it might hurt someone. I thought you learnt this after you dropped those time peices from the sky TWICE!!"

"HEY!! The mafia broke my outer door! And then Mustache Girl stole them! It's NOT my fault!" She ended her rant by crossing her arms.

"Yeah. Well, you did a fantastic job protecting the time peices. But in any case, WHY did you even bring her here in the first place?!"

Her pout melted a little. "Well...She was acting really weird. Like she was sleeping but her eyes were open and she wasn't saying anything. Grown ups always act so weird. So I thought since you're a grown up too and like to be quiet all the time you can help!"

The innocent smile dawned on her face was what made Snatcher sigh and take a glance over at Poppy who just took another small piece of twig from her hair, scowled and flung it to the outside. Seemed like a good enough reason to a child. And he's seen her to crazier things for wackier reasons than wanting to help someone. But out of ALL the things she could've decided to do she brought him his dead, long lost lov-.....Friend. He groaned reaching a hand up to grip at his head. Out of ALL the crazy things to EVER happen to him THIS was the weirdest. Dying and becoming Ghost King of all of Subcon? Weird but he saw it as just rewards for what Vanessa did. She took everything from him so he took everything from her. Finding out there was a sentiant peice of him trapped in another plane of existance? Ok. But that comes with all the cursed magic that came with him. Having shiny time pieces fall into his forest and having a small alien invade his forest? No big deal. He always suspected life beyond his planet with the moon penguins and being able to visit the sun be a thing. So an alien with weird other worldly powers wasn't too much of a shock when he's already seen so much weirder things over a thousand years. Adopting said alien?.......Well.....He guessed he's always wanted a kid deep down. Vanessa did to and he was happy she was willing to have one with him way, WAY back then. But Vanessa was moving WAY too fast and in the end he did always end up with what he wanted. He was SO thankful Hattie wasn't related to Vanessa in any way. Hiding inside a crate to go on a well deserved vacation after getting his but kicked by said alien? HEY. TICKETS. ARE. EXPENSIVE. PERIOD. There was NO way he was paying 152 pons just for a measly few days on a ship in the middle of no where. Accidentally bringing everyone back to life with a time piece? OK! That one was on him. He could admit that. Those things really were too much trouble and he clearly wasn't thinking straight at the time. Coming face to face with the woman he secretly fell in love with?

........All the guilt and what ifs were still there and he still had nightmares about it every so often. But now she was here and....When he first saw her the hard slap of reality in the face sent a shockwave throughout his being like being trapped in ice again. Then everything came rushing back.....EVERYTHING!! The very first time they officially met when he saw her building her makeshift stand in the square. She was about to fall off her ladder trying to paint the sign above her flowers. And he was passing by at the same time and he couldn't just let an innocent lady fall and hurt herself. So he dropped what he currently had in his hands, ironically a couple wild flowers he picked from the woods for Vanessa, and managed to catch her bridal style before she hit the cobblestone roads.

"H-Hey." His brown eyes looked over her worried for any injury to the woman in his arms. "A-Are you alright, Ma'am? Have you hurt yourself? That was quite a stumble."

She rubbed her head before looking at him. "Nah. I think I'm alriiiiiiii-...IGHT!! T-T-THE PRINCE!?"

Her blue eyes went so wide when she found out she was in the arms of none other than the famous Prince Philip Snider. But that lasted only a moment before the memories were blasting at him faster than he could physically remember. It happened so quick remembering all those things at ounce. He remembered after a while he was curious about the flower stand in town, so whenever he visited Vanessa he would just instead stop by there. At first he wasn't too sure about spending all those pons on the flowers when he could pick wild flowers for free, but when he saw them. He had NEVER seen roses so red. Like the color of the prettiest red paints. Or Tigerlilies with such bright tan petals and deep dark black stripes. Resembling the beast in all it's glory. And lilacs so purple like the twilight at the very beginning of sunrise. Better than any wild flowers he'd ever seen. Vanessa thought so too. And after all at that point in his life he beleived Vanessa deserved nothing but the best and Poppy's flowers were the best he'd ever seen. That's how the two began talking. When he complimented her amazing flowers and she proudly told him all she did to make her hard work so beautiful. And he always admired hard work. Back in his day it was VERY hard for a lady to get a successful career by themselves outside a maid, cook, teacher, or very few they were born in, and as a future leader his life was full of hard work to prepare him to run a country one day. Even when his days from Vanessa's obsession became hard, she was always able to make him smile with her spunky attitude, good advice, or just any of the small things he noticed her doing Vanessa would've never done. Poppy was kind and gave him the patience and space to be himself when vanessa couldn't. Sure they were both stubborn and spoke their minds all the time. But there was a big difference. With Poppy it was when she was often giving the hard truth and her honest opinions on things. Even when she gently tried to tell him the things Vanessa did was unacceptable, it was always her being honest with the intent to help. With Vanessa it was her always giving criticism and demands.

Give her a expensive gift. "...I thought my prince could get me better than this. You're supposed to be pining for my love!" Give her flowers. "These are beautiful. But not as beautiful as me. You shouldn't be trying to compare me to small plants that will lose beauty." Do any lil itty bitty small thing she disapproved of. "Don't slouch over like that reading. Sit formal at all times or you'll ruin you're entire posture when you get older. Are you trying to grow a beard? Shave it. You look better without it. Don't thank the cook again. They are below us and should know their place. In the kitchen to serve ME. I thought you knew better than that!" And then their relationship grew into a casual convo every time he visited, to a good friendship, and then....well at least to him a one sided love. And then the very last conversation they ever had, his one last chance he ever had to tell her how he felt or to do something to save everyone, slapped him hard enough with the guilt to make him scream. All the shock and reality making his self twist into a tight not and suddenly being pulled loose letting it all out. But that wasn't the problem right now. Right now he had to solve a question. What does he do now? This was too early. Way, WAY too early for any talks or to even come up with a proper plan on how to even go about this. Where would he even start?....Well, he guessed he already had done it. When he first came back to his senses after seeing her, he was angry and frustrated. Was fate toying with him again? But then he looked at her and got a good sense it wasn't and just liked throwing the past in his face a lot. Once the notion of this really being Poppy came to him well....He.....MAY have gotten a little carried away with the sudden feeling of possession and needing to stake a claim to her. Especially when he now has her to himself it has a ...fullfilling feeling to it which almost mad him feel guilty in a way. But what was he gonna do? Let her walk away like that? Besides. This new deal benefitted them greatly now. He can ask her for small favors, maybe a talk...or something? he was still figuring that part out, and in return she gets his unlimited protection, immortality, and all the benefits of still owning her own soul. Which he's only ever done once ever before. So this works out greatly for the both of them. Hattie tilted her head at the sudden silent eternal monoluge of the ghost and tried waving a hand in front of his face to get his attention. It worked as he blinked and resumed his scowl at the small child.

"Uh...A-Anyways, why did you think I could help?"

"Because you're a grown up?...." She hummed. "Maybe Cooking Cat can help instead. She's a lady too."

"HA! That cat couldn't even run a full lap around a house and not be gasping for air. 'Sides, Kid. Whatever she needs I can handle it, can't be hard. Mortal dilema is sorta what I'm an expert in by now. And I'm pretty sure I already handled any poor imminant danger by making her sign a contract."

....

.........

..............

..........................?!

WHAMP!!

"OW!!" His claws immediately snapped up to cover his face where an umbrella suddenly wacked him in the face and everyone looked up for a moment at the loud yelp from the ghost, except for Rough Patch who still laid there. The ghost hissed and stared back down at the angry little girl with a scowl that could scare himself. "KID!! WHAT THE ACTUALLY PECK-"

"You stole her soul?!," she asked just loud enough for him to hear her.

Immediately his face became one of shock when he jumped and slapped one of those clawed hands over her mouth and snapped his head back to the house. Some minions were still looking at him but Poppy seemed more interested in unsticking a small stick from her tangled hair than she was seeing a ghost argue with his adopted alien daughter. ....He turned back to her feeling Hattie struggle against his hand and he leaned close. "NO! I didn't steal her soul, Kid! I'm not completely heartless! I just.......Gave her the same contract you have that doesn't involve any life threatening plots or perils."......She suddenly looked confused. "Y'know! Protection against danger wise."

......She blinked and tilted her head. A contract just like....hers? Then did that mean- Her blue eyes suddenly went wide as she looked at him in wonder. "Does this mean I get a big sister!?"

He looked confused for a moment....before shaking his head. "No, Kid. Not adoption papers. I meant just...." What was the simplest way to explain this to a child? "I meant she signed a contract that means she'd be working for me, but nothing dangerous. And she's going to be very protected. Ok?"

She stared at him a moment longer, but nodded and seemed to understand. "So...She's not family?"

"I-.....Family?"

Family......A family.....HIS family. His head turned back to Poppy and how she was now bending down and letting Bow nicely help her clear any more stuck leaves and sticks from her long hair. She always had a natural way with kids. Almost a ...motherly way if he did say so. His yellow eyes widened as that thought hit him and bounced around over and over again in that head of his. Slowly his eyes looked back down towards Hattie who still looked confused at his actions. A family. He's always wanted one when he was alive. He and Vanessa had discussed a couple times what they would do once their wedding had come and gone. Children were almost always a topic Vanessa discussed and insisted on. If it was a girl she would be the most perfect princess who would take after her of course and she WOULD be named Victoria and if it was a boy she'd make sure he wouldn't make any mistakes in becoming the perfect King one day. Any slip ups he made were going to be made sure he didn't and he WOULD be called Charleston. Vanessa thinking back on it now, would've made a terrible mother, Poppy on the other hand......She'd would've made a great of a mother as she would've been a Queen. As the few times he had ever been back to that manor or the dreaded nursury, the what if's had crossed his mind a couple times especially back in the early days of being a ghost. What if they had had a child? Would they had been like him or her? But all those what ifs soon died out once he had actually aquired children of his very own at last. And made sure to securely put his claim to his new eternal fatherhood. But-.....What IF the girls had a mother figure in they're life? They could use one right? Surely Poppy could be better than that Cooking Cat and WAY more better than Vanessa could've ever been. And looking back at Hattie specifically, she did have almost the same shade of brown hair he had when he was alive, and blue eyes Like Poppy's. It was almost like she was a mini mix of the two......Yeah...YEAH!! Guess who just found out the new placement. This would work out great too! Poppy loved kids, and these two won over everyone eventually.

"....Actually, Kid." That familiar fanged grin she knew came back to him. "She's a very new friend."

"You know her?"

"I-....Well no! And you're NOT allowed to tell her who I am! I mean who I was as a human! It's our little secret." He couldn't have this blown up in his face right now.

"Why?"

"Because I said so, and because it'll help us solve her problem. You want me to help her get better right?" She nodded her head yes. "Well there you go. Just keep your yapper shut and let me handle it ok?" She nodded again. Of course he....wasn't sure how to handle how to go up to her and say 'Hey! You know that prince who secretly liked you a lot but too afraid to say it? No? Well that's me! Im the ghost who tricked you into signing a contract and possibly made you lose everything by Vanessa but life happens. Right?'....Yeah. no. He'd figure it out later. Much. MUCH later. He nodded back. "Good girl. Now why don't we go meet your new...'mom' figure?" He turned back towards the tree house and started towards it.

"Mom?" Her face turned to one of wonder and curiousity again as she bounded after him again.

"Well....Kinda. She's going to be more of a live in nanny. I had one of those when I was your age." He couldn't remember the name of his parents old Head Maid too well, just her friendly old face and that she took care of him when his parents were too busy.

"What's a nanny?"

"A babysitter," he clarified before turning his gaze back towards the home. A long shadow came over the two girls pulling the last few bits of debry out of her hair, but both looked up towards the giant ghost looming over them all and smiling that familiar fanged grin of him. "Alright. New employee. Are you ready for your first contracrual obligations as my newest servant?"

Poppy Blinked up at him in shock. "N-Now?...So soon?"

He chuckled. "Of course. But what better way than seeing if you made a good investment than by testing out the product early on?" He waved a hand at her skeptical look. "Look. You signed the contract, it's only fair I ask you to do one thing for me in return. It's not even that hard."

....Poppy sighed and looked down. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"Nope! But relax. I'm giving you all the easy tasks compared to any and all of my previous mortal helpers!" He rubbed his hands together before smiling and putting his hands on Hattie's shoulders. "I want YOU....to help me take care of these two little troublemakers from now on."

She blinked. "Excuse me."

"They can basically take care of themselves with my help of course. They're practically invincible by now, running off all the time around this planet and my forest. But they could use an older woman's touch around the place. Cooking, stories, playing. Y'know the stuff a mother would do."

"I'm sorry. You want me to play the part of being their MOTHER," she asked almost feeling like laughing at the ridiculousness of the question.

Yes he did. But of course instead he answered with, "No. I want you to basically help ME watch THEM. Like a nanny kinda."

"Ha! You've gotta be kidding me!"

"Does it LOOK like I'm joking around, Lady?" He absolutely wasn't. "Look. I was generous enough NOT to take your soul, take you under my wing, and if it wasn't for my slip up you probably wouldn't even be not frozen." Which was true in a sense. His mistake technically did unfreeze her. "So asking you to just help out can't be too far a stretch don't ya think?"

She scowled again. "HEY!! Being a nanny wasn't in that resume!"

"Well I can argue it IS since it didn't state what specific work I needed your help with. Just that you'd agree to help me out with, Lady. I run a whole haunted area of the land full of thousands of ghosts and undead creatures, deal with an annoying corpse at night time, and have to care for two girls in outer space or where ever they decide to go. Not to mention the trouble they cause, intruders in my woods, and hundreds of employees under my command. Please don't make me regret sparing and hiring you now. I can always change my mind." He was bluffing on the last part. He'd never do anything to hurt her especially now that he had her under his claws but the look on her face wasn't one of terror it was a deeper angrier glare.

"I THOUGHT you said you were going to help ME! Not use me as your free nanny now!"

"I AM! Who wouldn't want to be able to have a normal job after being frozen to death?!," he argued back.

"You MADE me have no other choice to sign that pecking paper!! YOU PURPLE ONION VINE!!"

"HEY!! I HAPPEN TO BE KING OF WHAT'S LEFT OF YOUR PAST PRECIOUS SUBCON, 'PRINCESS'!!" He shot back leaning down closer to her.

Poppy dared to stand up and shove her face and scowl back at the ghost's. "OH!! EXCUSE ME 'YER MAJESTY'!" He mock bowed. "IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE I SHOULD DO?! HOW ABOUT TIDY UP THIS LIL HUT YOU GOT GOIN' ON?!"

"HEY!! MY HOME IS THE BEST HOME ANY GHOST COULD EVER WANT!! YOU THINK IT'S EASY FOR A POWERFUL OVERLORD OF THE DEAD TO WATCH TWO LITTLE GIRLS WHO PESTER ME ALL THE TIME?!"

"THEN WHY ARE YOU COMPLAINING 'BOUT BEING THEIR FATHER?!"

"I. AM. NOT!!! IT'S JUST HARD TO KEEP TRACK OF THEM ON THE JOB!!"

"AN ALL POWERFUL SPIRIT CAN'T WATCH TWO LITTLE GIRLS?!"

"HEY!! THEY'RE NOT ORDINARY KIDS I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW!! NOW STOP UNDERESTIMATING ME IN MY OWN HOME IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU!! YOU.....YOU....ROSE HEAD!!"

"OH REAL CREATIVE!! VINE BODIED!!"

"UNGRATEFUL WOMAN!!"

"JACK O LANTURN FACE!!"

"DOTTED FACE!!"

Hattie gave a deadpanned look as the two continued their petty arguement and Bow blinked in her direction before slowly putting Rough Patch down and getting up to walk over to her. The two little girls watched the two keep going at it like an old married couple for a moment, the minions watching in confusion just as much as Bow. Poppy didn't look afraid of him at all. Even arguing with him with an equal temper. Snatcher honestly....Didn't look enraged like he usually would have been if a total stranger who signed a contract with him had been fighting about duties he wanted them to perform. He just looked....average person annoyed, like two siblings or friends having a small argument over something useless.

"Uh....What's happening?," Bow asked Hattie without looking at her.

"I think no one here is a grown up anymore," Hattie replied flatly still watching the adults argue.

"ALRIGHT!! WELL WHAT DO YOU THINK WOULD BE QUALIFIED AS 'HELP' FROM ME TO YOU?!," Snatcher asked finally wanting to end this pointless argument.

Poppy actually stopped for a moment....Looking at him for a long time in silent thought at his words. What.....What DID she want help with really? She was lost. Both literally and thoughtfully as she still blankly stared at him thinking........What DID she want help with? She couldn't...She couldn't get anything back at all, and what was a dead person going to help her with anyways? From what she knew from what they said to her, all she got excited over was the fact there was someone in her situation...Ok. Maybe not exactly her situation persay, but similar at least. She was dead for crying out loud and now she's living basically a wild story some toddler thought up of. The quiet thinking seemed to catch Snatcher's attention as his scowl slowly by surely softened and watched as her's became even more unsure and deep in thought. He HAD helped her....Sure took a 'little' trickery, but it all worked out in the end. But he guessed like him when he first died, she was more than just lost-

"I......I don't know," she finally answered in just above a whisper. Looking back up to him with an almost panicked face. "......I really don't know."

Snatcher stared at her, a pang of worry and something else flashed across his face and through his shadowed body. All too familiar a situation and feelings. So it was kinda surprising to everyone when he lowered himself to not loom over her, but to look her in the eyes. As if she was an equal. A calm look over his face now and the angry aura from earlier disappearing as he spoke.

"Hey. I can understand that. Believe it or not you're not the only one who's gone through that kind of thing....I'm certainly no stranger to feeling like that. In fact it took me forever literally just to realize my place after I got lost," he spoke in a calm and steady voice to her. MAking the minions and girls around him give each other confused looks.

"B-But.....H-HOW did you do that?!," she demanded glaring back at him again, "I w-wanted HELP!! Not a job-''

"Lady-.....Poppy. Do you mind if I call you that? I think I would like it better if I did. Make it easier to talk for the both of us." She definately stared at him with 100% surprise now....to which he sighed and reached a hand up to rub his safe. Sentimentality REALLY wasn't his best side. "Ok. To make it in mushier terms..I DO want to help you ok. Believe it or not I do and I have my reasons. But you gotta know I can't change the past no matter what. Trust me I have TRIED and look where that got me. Stuck fused with a mushy corpse and having to lead a whole bunch of strangers through the forest like a tour guide." he glanced at her confusion again. "Uh..B-But that's not important. The important thing is that I can't change or fix anything that's already happened alright? I can't send you back. I can't give you anything from your old life......And I can't change what happened to you." Her face dropped and eyes widened even more- "But, I can help make the future easier and help you with whatever you need to settle down with alright? But you got to understand that it's NOT just going to be with a snap of my fingers. I know, I've experienced it for hundreds of years. Just know that...You're not going to be alone in any of this alright?" He without thinking offered out a clawed hand to her with a small smile. "Do you trust me?"

She still stared at him, and for a long moment no one said anything. The girls and minions were looking on in surprised wonder at the caring tone and meaning of the words that flowed out of the giant ghost's mouth, but no one made any more to do or say anything in fear of the quiet being shattered. It took a moment for anyone to react, but a bit reluctantly the red haired woman's shaking hand reached over and settled inself into the larger purple claws that came around her. ....Huh. Weird. She would've thought a ghost would've felt cold as stone, but instead he felt warm but not too hot either. Kinda like a crisp fall evening. Either way it wasn't what she was expecting when she allowed her bare skinned hand to hold his, and he felt...Oddly soft as well. Almost how a peach felt. Maybe he had fire inside of him keeping his being warm? Possible. His eyes and the inside of his mouth glowed as he spoke. But she wasn't too sure with ghosts since she never was one.

Poppy hiccuped again and reached a hand up to wipe at her eyes to get herself to stop crying before she started crying again for the third time in a span of hours. She still didn't know what time of day it was. "Y-Yeah...Ok?" Her voice came out soft and meek. And a little shaky too indicating she wasn't trying to cry and Snatcher quickly caught onto that. Seeing two little girls do a similar thing once.

"Hey. You know...I-It's alright to cry. Happens to everyone at some point right?" That got a small huff of a chuckle out of her and his smile (which he still didn't know he had) got wider....When a thought hit him with the speed and force of a meteor. "Hey! I know what can help a little bit. Y-You like flowers right? "

".....H-How do you know that?"

He had a flash of panic fly over his face for a moment before he coughed and shrugged. "You said you had a flower stand before Vanessa sent her goons to take you right? O-Obviously you must've liked growing things then. Or at least flowers."

"O-Oh. Yeah. That makes sense."

he sighed. Close call. But went back to that small smile. "Look. If you don't want to look after a stranger's kids I get that, but all I'm asking is a little help in return. And who knows. Maybe starting with something simple like this will help you settle down and get your thoughts together. Y'know. Something small then work our ways up to where we think would be the best action for you. Alright?"

She still stood there for a moment, before sniffing and nodding her head again. "'Aight. Sounds nice."

"There. See. Don't worry about anything. As long as I'm around there's not going to be any misfortune to you. I can promise that." He stopped when he felt a tug on his tail and turned around. "Hm? Oh. It's you." Hattie stared up at him with a confused look. "Well what's that face for?"

"Are you feeling ok? You're acting kinda funny...."

"WHAT?!" His hand was removed from hers as he stared down at the girl. "I-I'M PERFECTLY FINE!! I WAS JUST HAVING A BUSINESS TALK WITH MY NEWEST EMPOLYEE!! THAT'S ALL!!" He crossed his arms before looking back to all the minions surrounding him. "Well?! Don't just stand there! Back to your posts!"

The minions immediately did as their leader ordered and jumped and scrambled in all directions from his scowl. Poppy blinked again and looked at the still deadpanned child staring up at the ghost. "Is ....Is he always like this?"

She shook her head. "No. Usually he's more cranky. But maybe he hit his head too hard doing that weird crawl with human legs."

In an instant Snatcher snapped to her. "HEY!! YOU AGREED NOT TO MENTION THAT AGAIN!!" She stuck her tongue out at him and he grumbled before nudging her with his tail. "Well....Go take her home or something. I have some...business to take care off." Or more like to plant as he turned his head around to look in the direction of the Subcon Village.

Poppy blinked up at him. "Wait. You're leaving me? Now? So soon after I just got here?!"

"Yes," he stated bluntly. "I got something in mind to help you, but I can't risk you all running around while I'm trying to conduct business. "

She laughed unbelieving. "Unbelievable! What am I supposed to do in the mean time?"

"I don't know. See the ship? Have the girls show you around, I have to work."

Poppy still stared unbeliving before Bow smiled and grabbed her hand. "It's ok. He can be really.....um...Straightforward, but whenever Snatcher has an idea it USUALLY works. He doesn't like it when everyone interrupts him." A small tug to her hand made Poppy stumble a bit as Bow happily pulled her away from the ghostly home. "Come on! I can't wait to show you the Metro room!"

"The what?"

Hattie still stared at the leaving ghost with a raised brow at his strange behavior and hummed...Before shrugging it off for now and turning to bound after the other two girls. Oh, well. Snatcher was probably just having the mood swings as he called them. Grown ups were so weird.

[blvejeanbaby]

Mistake | Song Mingi

Pairing: Mingi x reader Word count: 1771

There was true serenity in being by yourself, looking out over a rainy city. The grey of the sky matched that of the buildings surrounding your apartment building, your mood being of the same hue. You clasped your half-empty tea mug in your hand, letting it, and the cosy winter village print on the mug, warm you from the outside and the inside. In the distance there was some sad Spotify playlist you had made the day your neighbours’ cat had died, and that in no way had been the same type of heartbreak that you felt now, but it was the only thing you could think of to listen to. You had long ceased crying; you wondered if perhaps you had run out of tears. It was stupid, of course, the reason behind all of this. After all, how long had you been with him? How attached could you have been? But still, every time you closed your eyes, the typical blackness was replaced by his soft smile, his messy hair, now dyed a lighter shade of red than when you had met him. With his tall frame and his big hands, the ones you missed wrapped around your own, cupping your face, in your hair… With his silly jokes and his facial expressions as he did funny dances to cheer you up. And now? None of that was here. None of Mingi was here.

It was 2 days ago now, 2 days since you’ve last seen him. There had been a period of time where his life had been so hectic and busy that there was just no time for you two to meet up. It was award season, it was New Year’s Eve – one you had hoped to spend together, but then again you hadn’t really officially been together then and you weren’t officially together ever – and all the way up to a comeback. There just hadn’t been time, hadn’t been a spare moment for him. And now you were diving back into your school work, you were busying yourself with the one thing you could always rely on; college. And perhaps your time with Mingi, all the fun times you had shared, had all been some dream, some way of God or the Universe or whatever higher up power there was to toy with you and remind you to keep your focus on your studies. After all, it would lead to a career, the same way Mingi was building his. That was the reason he had called you to the dorms 2 days ago. The dorms you had only visited a handful of times before, since he normally came over to your place or you met up outside, in obscure places no one would think to look for an idol. The door had been opened by Hongjoong, who had probably known everything about your evolving friendship with Mingi along every step of the way. You couldn’t read his face, but then again you could read Mingi’s perfectly fine. He had told you that he couldn’t do it, couldn’t be with you. And even though you hadn’t asked, he had given you a reason. He had to focus on his career, on Ateez, on whatever KQ wanted from him. And even though you hadn’t really responded at all, he had apologized from the bottom of his heart. There were tears between the two of you, but you managed to keep it together. Yes, oh yes, you were more busy comforting Mingi than you were thinking of your own tear-stained cheeks. Mingi, your Mingi – he had helped you into your coat and watched as you put on your shoes. He had handed you your purse and he had given you one last hug, one last kiss on your forehead. And then he had closed the door behind you. And that was it. That was it. You rested your head against the cold glass window, glancing out over a darkening Seoul. You hadn’t really been eating the past few days. There was nothing you could stomach. You had only done the necessary these past few days. There was nothing else to do. You had talked to your friends a lot these past few days. There was no one else to talk to. They had told you to take some time, but not too much, to get over Mingi. But you knew that it was impossible. The bond you shared with Mingi ran deeper than the bond you shared with anyone. There was no way you could get over him swiftly, painlessly. And there was no describing it to anyone but Mingi. You turned around, away from the window, to set your mug down on the table, when a sharp sound rang through your apartment. You frowned. You grabbed the blanket from your couch and wrapped it around yourself before wandering over to the hallway. The sound rang again and you sped up the pace. Before you could even put your hand on the doorknob, there was the sound again. You grumbled and prepared yourself to get angry, when you opened the door and saw Mingi. You were about to slam the door shut again, but he managed to stick his foot in. “Y/N, listen to me.” “No. Please, leave.” You pressed against the door, knowing it was hurting his foot, applying less pressure, for he needed those feet to dance, and pressed harder again, for you wanted him gone. “Y/N, I know I told you it was a mistake. But I have been thinking. A lot.” You stopped trying to shut the door, but also didn’t open it any wider. “Mingi, I don’t want you to apologize again. You’ve done enough of that-“ “No! Never enough,” Mingi said. “I don’t want to live with the thought of ever having hurt you that much-“ “Oh, if this is about your conscience-“ “It’s not,” Mingi said, sighing exasperatedly. “It’s coming out all wrong. What do I do?” Hearing that, you finally pulled the door open a little wider. “What do you mean? It’s coming out all wrong?” “I prepared something to say,” he said, his hand running through his hair, wet with rain. His round glasses were covered in drops of rain and seeing him like that, like a lost, wet puppy, ultimately made you give in. “Come on in. I’ll get you some tea.” Once Mingi was wrapped in your blanket and supplied with his own mug of tea - the print of it being the one he had deemed his favourite, a group of penguins under the northern lights - you sat down in the living room together. You were quite aware of your sad playlist still playing in the background, of the untidy state of your apartment, of the utter despair that must be speaking from your surroundings. If Mingi noticed it, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he sipped the tea, even though it was still scorching hot. “So…” you said, “what did you prepare?” There was some silence again, before Mingi reached over to put the mug down on your coffee table. “Hongjoong hyung helped me,” he said. “I have it written down but…” He took a crumpled up piece of paper from the pocket of his jeans, flattening it out on his knee and looking at it. Your eyes followed, the scribbles of black on white paper meaning nothing to you as you could never decipher Hongjoong’s handwriting. “I don’t want to read it to you, because… a big part of it was what Hongjoong would say in a situation like this. It’s not me. I agree with what he wrote, but it’s not me. Y/N, you are the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.” Oh, now that made you feel good. You were about to protest, but Mingi continued: “You are the biggest mistake, but the one I regret the least. I don’t regret it at all, I mean. I just mean that…” He took a deep breath. “I mean that I was wrong. For wanting to end everything, all of this. For giving up what we had build for each other, for giving up your silly tea mugs, your fuzzy blankets, your bad taste in music-“ “Hey!” you said, chuckling a little regardless of the situation. You happened to know Mingi quite liked your music taste, especially the singer now in the background, Bruno Mars, providing the soundtrack for this moment. “I won’t hesitate to turn it off.” You even made to stand up, but Mingi softly pulled you back. “Y/N,” he said. Your small laughter died down in your throat, just from looking at him. So serious, so mature, so completely sure of himself that you wondered if this was the same Mingi whose tears you had dried many times before and who had poked you in the face with his umbrella the first time you had met. “Y/N, I’ll let you be my mistake. You’re the best mistake I’ve ever made and the one I will continue making until you won’t let me anymore. I understand if you don’t want to do this, I know it will be hard. The company cannot know and we will have to hide it from everyone and it will be difficult, but… I want to try it with you. Because being without you, even just for a few days, a few hours… A life without you is a life I do not want for myself.” “I don’t know what to say,” you said, truthfully. “Then say nothing. Just nod or shake your head as I ask you this question: will you forgive me?” You sighed. “Mingi, I… I understand what you did. I understand why. I understand… our positions in life. How the odds are so completely against us. But… I like being around you. A lot. You make me get out of the house or you make me feel better about staying in. You make me feel good about collecting tea mugs that I don’t need and drinking my sodas out of them because I don’t have any proper glasses. I like the way you look when you wake up and I like whenever you try to change my taste in music. And we may be each other’s’ biggest mistakes but I don’t mind it. If what we have is a mistake, then I don’t ever want to do the right thing.” Unconsciously the two of you have crossed the distance between you two, your hands clasped together and your faces only inches apart. “I love you, Y/L/N Y/N.” “I love you, Song Mingi.”

[darkdoelette]

Winter coquette

Coquette in winter

Hey! I made an autumn post that did well. So here’s my winter one!

The coquette aesthetic is most often associated with warmer weather, which means that celebrating colder weather, especially for those new to the aesthetic, can be difficult. But, fear not. Here are some ways to keep up with the aesthetic!

Clothing:

(Psa: Real fur is cruel and faux alternatives can be just as warm. This blog does NOT support the fur trade in any way shape or form.)

Mittens-especially fluffy ones or ones with kitten paw prints

Gloves.

Scarves

Hats.

Fuzzy/fluffy jackets.

Fuzzy/fluffy clothes in general

Hoodies (especially if they smell like a person of interest’s cologne/perfume/fragrance.)

Hoodies with animal ears on the hood.

Boots.

Knee high socks.

Thigh high socks.

Tights.

Sparkly New Years Dresses.

Faux leather pants.

Petticoats.

Santa dresses.

Sweaters.

Robes.

Pajamas.

Slippers.

Ribbons-especially those that look like they belong on a present.

Bobby socks

Santa hats

Reindeer antlers

Faux fur trim coats and jackets

Tiaras

Cosmetics:

See my post about skincare

Blush

Highlighter. Especially gold, silver, or rose gold.

Reindeer fawn makeup.

Red lipstick.

Red eyeshadow

Green eyeshadow

White eyeliner

Blue eyeliner

Blue mascara

Gold eyeliner

Gold glitter

Blue glitter

Silver glitter

Bath bombs

Shower steamers

Bubble bars

Any shampoo to help with flakes.

Hair:

In a Santa hat

In a reindeer antlers headband

Milkmaid braids

Down

With snowflakes inside it

Royal curls

A messy bun

A neat bun

Cute little holiday or winter hair clips

In a tiara

Ribbons with bows

With golden hair acessories

Braids

Pigtail braids

Activities: (Keep in mind, some of them have different religious aspects. Learn to appreciate and not appropriate. Obviously there are some activities that apply to different people as there are different foods/clothes/etc.)

Ice skating.

Knitting. Especially if you knit extra garments to donate!

Making snow angels.

Snow ball fights.

Twirl around in the snow (especially if listening to the “Ice Dance” song from Edward Scissorhands during the first snowfall of the year. I listen to it every time I see my first bit of snow falling in Winter).

Playing in the snow.

Donate gifts to charity.

Donate food to charity.

Kiss under the mistletoe

Light scented candles around the house along with the Hanukkah/Kwanza ones.

Decorate the Christmas tree.

Bake Christmas cookies

Play with a Dreidel

Cuddle with someone (you know, for warmth)

Sit around the fire.

Dress dolls up in Christmas Outfits.

Visit the American Girl store.

Buy lingerie and a fuzzy robe to wear over it while you lounge inside.

Learn about other cultures.

Remember that people of other religion and cultures often invite friends to celebrate other Hollidays with them. It’s a beautiful thing that often happens, especially when the holidays overlap. I grew up in an interfaith family, as my mom converted religions shortly prior to marrying my dad (she already had an interest in the religion before they were engaged).

Play an instrument.

Sing Holiday songs.

Open Christmas Crackers

Watch the Radio City Rocketts

Look at Window Displays

Watch the fireworks on New Years (be careful if you’re going to set them off yourself for multiple reasons including preventing injuries and making sure there isn’t anybody with gun or explosion related PTSD living nearby).

Have a New Years Kiss

BE someone’s holiday present.

Sit on their lap and tell them what you want for Christmas 😉

Let them decide if you’re naughty or nice.

Stay up to date with the Iditarod.

Get vaccinated.

Decorate your room/house/apartment.

Put up fairy lights

Go to a Christmas carnival

Go sleigh riding

Cuddle up in front of the fire.

Take a nice warm bath

Make a gingerbread house

Decorate the Christmas tree

Build model train sets

Music:

Santa Tell Me-Ariana Grande

All I want for Christmas is You-Mariah Carrey.

Ice Dance-Danny Elfman

Santa Baby-Eartha Kitt

Light My Candle-Rent the musical

Baby it’s cold outside-Frank Losserr

Walking in a Winter Wonderland- Richard B Smith

New Year’s Day by Taylor Swift

Santa Clause is back in town by Elvis Presley

I’ve got some presents for Santa by Paul Horabin

I’ll be your Santa Baby by Refus Thomas

Wit it this Christmas by Ariana Grande

Mistress for Christmas by ACDC

Sext Christmas by Steel Panther

Merry Christmas, Baby-By Christina Aguilera

Christmas tree by Lady Gaga

The Nutcracker Suites

Varuca Salt’s Nutcracker Suite from Willy Wonka the Musical

Never fall in love with an Elf from Elf the Musical

Books:

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion The Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S Lewis

Spirit by HP Heightman

Little Women by Luisa Mary Alcott

A Doll’s House by Henrick Ibsen

The Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice

The Winter Fairy by Lola Karns

The Land of Stories: The Enchantress Returns

Peace Like A River by Leif Enger

Murder on the Orient express by Agatha Christie

The Bear and The Nightingale by Katherine Arden

Movies and Tv:

The nightmare before Christmas (1993)

Beautiful girls (1996)

Edward Scissorhands (1990)

Interview with a Vampire (1994)

The Apartment (1960)

Groundhog Day (1993)

Elf (2003)

While you were sleeping (1995)

Love Actually (2003)

Rent (2005)

Deck the halls (2006)

Friends

Frozen (2014)

Mean Girls

Bad Santa

Just Friends

Eyes Wide Shut

Games:

Dreidel

The Christmas pickle

Sled racing

Candy Land

Nancy Drew and the White Wolf of Icicle Creek Lodge

Food:

Hot chocolate with cinnamon, marshmallows, and whipped cream.

Milk and cookies

Carrots

Cranberries

Eggnog

Chocolate coins

Latkes (Potato Pancakes)

Donuts

Cannolis

Candy

Candy canes

Gingerbread people

Bread

Stew

Soup

Jollof rice

Collard greens

Okra

Grapes

Chocolate

Snowballs

Corn

Champagne

Cheese

Crackers

Popcorn

Animals:

Deer

Reindeer

Bears

Polar Bears

Sleigh dogs

Penguins

Arctic foxes

Arctic anything

Ermine

Smells:

Burning wood

Chocolate

Champagne

Snow

Others:

Mistletoe

Pionzidia plants

This playlist I made

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLedzHMFLbf6aoJ4INT4jRK5wPK5s1eq-J

[the-small-one-to-rule-them-all]

Dress to Impress

Summary: Who knew that crying in your room could be the start of something wonderful?

Or, Patton breaks down, Logan shows some feelings, Virgil is his usual precious self, and Roman is a fabulous b****. (that says beaut idk why it’s censored)

Pairing: logicality, prinxiety

Warnings: food mention, homophobia, mild description of a panic attack, cursing

Word count: 5043

A/N: so, this is actually the first fanfic i’ve ever published, I hope it’s okay! I got inspired by @thatoddhuman​‘s picture of Logan in a galaxy skirt while in the middle of writing some logicality hurt/comfort ... and then this happened. Enjoy!

Patton leans back against his door and he hears the latch click shut. It has been a long day, and he has felt way too many emotions in such a small amount of time that he swears if he feels one more thing he’s gonna explode. He lets his hair fall into his eyes as he trods over to his giant bed.

His bed covers an entire wall of the room and is covered in blankets and pillows and stuffed animals of every kind. Patton flops into the middle of it and pulls about seven blankets on top of himself.

He grabs his favourite stuffed animal, a two foot tall penguin named Peggy, and holds her tight.

Logan passes Patton’s door on the way to the kitchen. He is lost in thought when he hears something that pulls him back to the present. It takes him a second, but when he realises what it is, it worries him. He hears crying coming from Patton’s room, and it sounds like it’s coming from Patton and not one of the others.

If Patton was crying, that meant something bad had happened. Patton didn't like to cry but when he needs to he tends to listens to sad music with the door open or watches a sad movie to have an excuse to cry, but this. For him to close himself in his room and try to hide his tears... now that was bad, very bad.

Logan decides his midnight snack can wait. He turns to face Patton’s door and knocks. He hears Patton gasp inside.

“I'm not here.” Patton says, hoping that whoever is on the other side of the door might actually believe him

“Patton, it’s Logan. You know that wont work on me.”

Patton goes quiet, hiding further under his blankets.

“Is it okay if I come in?” Logan asks, hand already on the doorknob.

Patton does not respond.

Logan frowns, “Patton, If the door is unlocked and you don't say anything in protest, i'm coming in, okay?”

Patton pulls another blanket on top of himself, in an effort to conceal himself as he pulls his head under the mountain of blankets.

“I'm going to come in now Patton.” Logan says gently, slowly twisting the doorknob and pushing the door open.

When he sees the giant pile of blankets that Patton is undoubtedly hiding in, Logan’s heart sinks.

Logan steps in, closing the door behind him. “Patton. I know you are under all those blankets.”

Patton sighs and throws off the blanket he last grabbed, revealing his head.

“Hello there Patton.” Logan says, taking a seat in Patton’ swivel chair.

Patton gives Logan a small wave of his fingers.

Logan smiles softly,“Patton, would you mind sharing what is upsetting you? Especially to the point that you are in here at 3 am trying to hide your tears from the rest of the world.”

“Nothing is upsetting me, i'm just sad.” Patton mumbles.

“Why?”

“Because I am. It’s just a combination of a lot of small and big things that’ve been happening and I guess i'm hiding because I don't want to have to explain that there's no reason for me to feel this awful, I just do.” Patton starts crying and hides his face in the blankets.

“I'm sorry that you feel awful. Is there some way in which I can help? Do you want me to offer advice, offer a distraction, or just listen? Or multiple?” Logan asks.

Patton replies, through sniffles and tears,“Umm, actually, can you just sit with me for a bit? I... I just need to feel this right now Logan.’

“Oh, uh, okay. I suppose I can do that.” Logan says startled at the use of another option.

Despite not understanding, Logan joins Patton on the bed, sitting next to the giant pile of blankets and making himself a backrest of pillows. He grabs his designated stuffed robot from the messy pile and just sits.

Patton eventually moves so that his head is on Logan’s lap. Patton knows Logan doesn't really like physical contact, like hugs or really cuddling, but they’ve found that this is the best arrangement for physical contact between them.

Logan absentmindedly starts running his fingers through Patton’s hair, making him gasp a bit.

“Oh, sorry Patton. I didn't mean to upset you. I just find it rather comforting when you do that for me so I thought-”

“Logan, no, it’s fine. I was just surprised.”

“Like a good surprise?”

“Yes, it was a good surprise, Logan.”

“That is... satisfactory.” Logan admits allowing himself to smile.

Patton pats Logan’s knee in acknowledgement a sad smile on his face.

After a bit Logan realizes Patton has fallen asleep on his lap. He smiles down at the emotional side and gently shifts him off of his lap and into a comfortable position.

Logan lays down, removing his glasses and placing them on the nightstand next to Patton’s glasses. He was much too tired to go to his room, and he always seemed to sleep better here anyways.

When Logan woke up the next morning, Patton was already awake, but he hadn't moved from his place on the bed. Normally Patton would get up and make breakfast, but obviously that didn't happen.

“Good morning Patton. Did you sleep well?” Logan asks with a yawn.

Patton shrugs, “I didn't have any bad dreams or wake up in the middle of the night so , yeah, I guess so.”

“You are not feeling well this morning?”

“No Logan, i'm not. I don't feel much better than I did last night.” Patton admits.

“Is there something I can do to help?” Logan asks, concern wrinkling his brow.

Patton loses himself in thought, thinking, wondering, what could possibly make this better. In his franticness he starts to tear up, wondering if it could get better. “I.. I don't know Logan” he admits voice breaking, “I don't know.”

Logan is startled to say the least, “Patton, are you... er, umm, may I give you a hug?”

Patton nods and Logan reaches out, pulling Patton into his lap and holding him there in his arms.

“Is this helping?” Logan asks softly.

“Mmmhmm” Patton hums between gasping breaths and tears.

Logan feels a tightness in his chest at the sound of his friend crying and he holds Patton even tighter, even closer.

Logan starts taking deep steadying breaths, “Patton. I'm here. It’s okay. Can you take breaths with me?”

They breathe in, and out. In and out. In and out.

Slowly the mush in Patton’s mind starts to fade, and he is tired, despite having just woken up.

“Are you doing better now, Patton?” Logan asks when Patton relaxes in his arms.

“Still sad, but not panicked about it anymore so... I guess.” Patton says with a shrug.

“Would you want to talk about it? I have heard that talking about one’s feelings is a good way to help.” Logan says, hoping he’ll oblige.

“I mean, it probably would help, but I really don't want to.” Patton admits.

“And why is that?”

“I... i'm scared of spiralling again.” Patton mutters.

“But I am here, and if you begin to spiral, I can help.” Logan says, hoping it’s enough.

“I just,” Patton sighs, “Talking about it makes me feel bad, and I already feel bad, and I don’t want to feel worse.”

“Is there something else you would like me to do? Shall I distract you?” Logan asks, just wanting Patton to feel a little better.

“Thanks for the offer, but i’d rather just cuddle.”

“Okay, but we do need to go get breakfast at some point, okay?”

Patton nods.

“Tell me when you are ready to go eat.” Logan reminds him.

Patton shrugs, “I guess, i'm ready to go now. I've been awake for a few hours, i'm hungry.”

“I did not think you would want to go downstairs while upset, though I will certainly go with you if that is what you want.”

Patton wipes his eyes, “No, wait i'm not upset, see? I'm happy pappy Patton, i'm not sad, i'm never sad.”

“Falsehood.” Logan mutters, sad and slightly annoyed.

“Uh, i'm sad but it doesn't matter.” Patton says, sounding much less chipper.

“Falsehood. Try again.” Logan directs.

Paton sighs, “I'm sad, but I don't want the others to know so i'm hiding it from them while we get food.”

Logan frowns, his expression soft, “While that is true, it is unacceptable.”

“Logaaaaaan.” Patton whines.

“Try again.” Logan says calmly.

Patton huffs, “Okay, I’m sad, but-”

Logan interrupts sternly, “No. No buts.”

“Pfft... Butts.” Patton snorts.

“Patton.” Logan says, sounding like an annoyed parent.

“Fine. I'm sad... and that’s okay?” Patton says, unsure.

Logan smiles softly, “That is acceptable. Now let’s go get some food. I want waffles with Crofters.”

They get up and get dressed. Logan chooses his normal button up and tie. Patton chooses a plain t-shirt, Virgil’s old hoodie and a pair of shorts.

Patton follows Logan out the door, putting on a front until Logan shoots him a look.

“What do you want for breakfast, Patton?” Logan asks, trying to keep the conversation light, as the others are sure to be up by this time.

“I want toaster strudel.”Patton says.

Logan forces himself not to correct Patton’s grammar, instead saying, “I suppose that is an acceptable choice as it does tend to cheer you up.”

As they walk into the kitchen, Virgil and Roman look up form their spots at the table.

“Hey, Popstar, what’s up?” Virgil asks, giving him a wave.

“Nothing” Patton insists nonchalantly.

“Didn't you say you were gonna wear that pretty flowy skirt today?” Roman asked.

Patton shrugs, “Yeah, I just... didn't want to”

“Patton, is something wrong?” Virgil asks, raising an eyebrow.

Patton shrugs, “I'm not feeling my happy self today, but it’s fine.”

“What’s going on there, padre? “ Roman asks.

Patton huffs, “I said it’s fine.”

Virgil gives him a look somewhere between sad and concerned, “Hey, Patt, it’s obvious that something is up. Please tell us what’s bothering you. Don't make me catastrophize about it all day.”

Normally Virgil doesn't like to guilt trip Patton into doing things, but he can tell something is up and it is bad.

Patton shakes his head, “That’s just it. There is no reason for me to be sad, I just am. And as much as I want to hide it from you guys... I know I shouldn’t. It’s just really frustrating to know that i'm upset for no reason at all.”

Virgil runs a hand through his hair, “Are you sure you’re upset for no reason? Did nothing trigger this?”

Patton takes his seat at the table, “Well... umm, I don't actually know.”

Patton sits and thinks about it as Roman and Virgil carry on eating their food.

Roman frowns, “Was it something we said?”

Patton shakes his head, “No! No, it, uh, it wasn't you guys.”

Logan sets Patton’s toaster strudel down in front of him, the icing in smiley faces and flowers, just the way he likes. “Was it someone else then?” Logan asks.

“I... it... well, yeah.” Patton admits with a sigh.

“What happened?” Roman asks.

Patton pulls Virgil’s old hoodie closer around his shoulders, “Well, remember how I was wearing that cute polka dotted skirt the other day, right?”

Roman smiles, “Yeah, your favourite skirt! It’s really cute on you!”

Patton gives a soft smile, “Thanks. Well there were these people in the store, and they... umm.” Patton hesitates, running a hand through his hair.

“Did they not like the skirt?” Logan asks.

Patton shakes his head, “No. they didn't. They... they were really awful. They called me rude names, even some homophobic slurs. They circled me, pushing me around, being rude and mean. Then one poured their coffee on my skirt and  acted like it was an accident.”

Patton hears Virgil mutter something about homophobes and Roman puts a hand on Virgil’s arm.

Logan sighs, “Oh, so that’s what happened to the skirt.”

Patton nods, “They, they said i’m ugly, that i'm a freak. They said that my skirt was disgusting. That it made me look... They, they... said lots of things that I won't repeat. ”

“Why didn't you tell us about that when you got home?” Virgil asks.

“I... I- ” Patton shrugs and pulls his hood over his head

Logan sets down his bite of waffles,  “That was the day that the video went up, remember? We were all stressed and excited about the video. Patton had run to the store to get snacks.”

“Oh, yeah.” Roman nods.

Patton sighs, staring at his plate, “I didn't want to ruin all the fun.”

“I understand that Patton, but that was a little bit more important than the video.” Virgil says with a sigh.

“I guess so, but it’s too late now.” Patton mumbles.

“What I do not understand is why it is still upsetting you.” Logan admits.

Roman looks at Patton, “Patton, you know that the things they said about you were wrong, right?”

Patton does not respond.

The room goes quiet.

“Patton?”

Patton pokes at his untouched food, “It still hurt.”

“Oh, Patton, of course it did. I would be more concerned if it didn't. But please know that we don't believe any of those things about you.” Logan reminds him

“... Knowing and believing are two different things.” Patton admits, his whispered voice loud in the quiet of the room.

After a long pause Roman shakes his head and frowns, “What do you mean?”

“I... I think I know what he’s saying.” Virgil says, shifting in his chair. “Knowing someone thinks something is like, surface level knowledge, believing something changes your thought patterns and your actions. Like knowing that a table was fixed and believing it can hold your weight are two different things.”

Logan frowns, “But many different factors play into-”

“L, that’s not-” Virgil groans, “How do I put this? Uh, it’s like knowing we won't judge you for having vocab cards, and believing it enough to use them around us.”

Logan blinks, “Oh... I see.” He looks down at Patton, “Is, is he right Patt?”

Patton is breathing so hard he feels like he might explode, his face is hot and his hands are shaking and he thinks he might be crying but he doesn't know. How did Virgil know? He shouldn't be this upset about this. He knows they were wrong, he thinks he believes it, he wants to but he can't and it hurts so much oh gosh it hur-

A hand is on his arm. “Hey, hey, Patton, we’re here. We’re right here.  You're okay.”

Patton turns, looking at Virgil’s hand on his arm. He feels the tears on his face. He takes some deep breaths focusing on Virgil’s hand, listening to his voice.

Finally Patton whispers in the quiet between Virgil’s comforting words, “How did you know?”

Virgil takes a deep breath, “What did you think it was like for me to tell you my name?”

Patton opens his mouth as if to speak, but nothing comes out. He just closes his mouth and nods. They sit there for a minute as Patton’s breathing returns to normal.

Virgil smirks, “Patton, don't think those bad things about yourself, i’ll fight you!” he says playfully.

That gets a small smile and a giggle from Patton.

“And i'll fight anyone who wants to say those things to you!” Roman declares.

Logan smiles, “How about we all wear our fancy feminine clothes together? We’ll all look nice and we’ll be supporting each other in that.”

Roman groans, “I have to wear this because i'm doing the show all day today, could we maybe do that tomorrow?”

“I'd be fine with that.” Logan affirms.

Virgil looks at Paton’s head under his hoodie, “Of course, only if you want to Patton.”

Patton looks up a bit, “Oh, you... you guys don't have to do that for me.”

“We want to Padre,” Roman says with his trademarked smile, “We want to support you!”

Patton frowns, “But they'll tease you too.”

Roman scoffs, “Honestly, damn those kids. I'm looking fabulous tomorrow! The only reason they’d be rude is because I look better in a skirt than they do.”

Patton smiles, “Well, I mean I can't stop you guys.”

Logan smiles “Exactly, now let’s eat and finish getting ready or we’re gonna be late to first class.”

The next day Patton wakes up and looks at the outfit he chose last night, smiling to think of his roommates doing the same. His outfit was a black knee length 50s style poofy dress covered in white polka dots. He had a clip with a red flower on it chosen for his hair, paired with his red converse.

Patton gets dressed, fixes his hair, and puts on some makeup to finish the look. Just some mascara, eyeshadow, and lipstick, but it is enough. He looks great and he feels great too. Patton gives himself a wink before putting the makeup away.

Patton smiles walking down to the living room for breakfast feeling good about himself. He stops as he reaches the bottom of the stairs and sees Virgil sitting on the table eating toast. Virgil is wearing a floor length black evening gown. It has intricate patterns sewn into the fabric in a black thread just slightly different from the fabric making it subtle but strikingly beautiful. Virgil even has a string of pearls around his neck and his hair done up nice.

Virgil catches Patton staring, “You think it’s too much?”

Patton shakes his head, “I just didn't realise we were dressing up so nice. I might have to change.”

Logan comes out from the kitchen, he is wearing a button up fancy white shirt with a knee length skirt. He hands a plate of toaster strudel and strawberries to Patton, “Oh you don't have to dress fancy to look amazing. You already look fantastic.”

Patton blushes, “Thanks Logan, you look pretty great yourself. I didn't know you owned that skirt.”

Logan looks down at poofy galaxy skirt, “Yeah, this is my first time wearing it. I have been waiting for the right occasion.”

“Well, I think you chose well.” Patton says with a smile, “Where’s Roman? Is he still getting ready?”

Virgil nods, “He came into my room early this morning insisting on doing my hair. He had already done his own and he basically stole my makeup when he left, claiming he didn't have what he needed in his own room. I think he just likes that I have so many eyeshadow colors.”

Patton laughs shaking his head, “Our local drama queen.”

“You called!!!” Roman shouts.

They all look up to the top of the stairs where Roman is standing in the dark.

“I am the ultimate gay theatre prince and drama king! And now everyone can tell!” Roman announces.

Roman descends the stairs, one hand on the banister, the other up in his usual dashing pose. As he comes into view the others can only stare.

Roman is wearing a floor length ball gown with a cape. The cape is long, black, and made of silk. The hood has white lacing around the edges, a stark contrast to the dress. To call the dress pretty is an understatement, it is enchantingly beautiful. The skirt looks like a galaxy of rainbows, swirled bright colors falling from his waist, dotted with small white gemstones and sequins. The top of the dress is completely covered in those sparkly white specks.

Virgil smiles, “Wow, Roman. You look stunning. Literally, I am stunned. I might be blinded..”

Roman smiles and adjusts his hair, which Patton now realises is holding a tiara.

“Roman you look like a beautiful prince if ever I saw one!” Patton says with a smile.

“Hopefully the gayest prince you ever saw too!” He laughs.

“That just goes without saying.” Logan admits.

Patton notices that Roman has on rainbow highlighter and he has put on pure white and sparkly eyeshadow to match his dress. He even has rainbow freckles covering his face. Patton has no idea how he managed to do it. He imagines that that  must’ve been why he needed Virgil’s makeup.

Roman laughs and travels the last few steps to land in front of Virgil, “Here, as promised,” He says giving his cape to Virgil, “a hood to hide in, though you look so good I don't know why you would want to hide.”

Virgil sets his plate down on the table and hooks the cape around his neck, “I like walking around looking beautiful and terrifying, but mostly terrifying.”

Roman rolls his eyes, “My emo nightmare, you are the midnight sky to my shimmering star.”

Virgil smirks, “In the background, unnoticed, only there to strike fear and make others look better?”

Roman smiles, taking Virgil’s hand, “You ignite wonder and curiosity in people’s hearts. The unknown is a bit scary, yes, but your beauty is something people marvel at, something they long to understand and achieve. You are noticed more than you think. You see yourself as the background, but others see you as their context for existing, and that is truly wonderful.”

“If you two are done flirting we need to leave in ten minutes and fifteen seconds, so i'd consider eating something.” Logan reminds them as he grabs Virgil’s empty plate and heads back to the kitchen. Roman grumbles but follows him to grab his breakfast.

Patton’s smile falters, “Oh yeah, I forgot about the actually going to school part.”

“Hey, no, you don't get to be nervous, that’s my job.” Virgil jokes.

“I don't look half as good as the rest of you guys though. You all look so amazing, how could I compare?” Patton says with a  frown.

Roman runs in, shoving the last half of a waffle in his mouth. He grabs Patton by the hand and pulls him up the stairs. The next thing Patton knows he’s on his bed and Roman is digging through his closet.

Patton gives him a look, “Ro? What are you-?”

“I will not have you feeling bad about yourself today.” He insists. “AHA!” He spins around a dress in his hands, “I didn't know you owned this! You should wear it! If you want to, of course.”

Patton goes pale, “I... I never actually intended to wear it, I just.... I don't know.”

Roman raises a skeptical eyebrow at Patton, “You would look better in this than any of us in our outfits.”

“... Really?” Patton asks hesitant.

Roman nods, “You should try it on.”

Patton slowly takes the dress from Roman.

“I'll be in the hall. Come out when you’re ready, and know it doesn't matter to me what you wear. I just want you to feel radiant today.”

Patton smiles at him and looks down at the dress in his hands. He has a decision to make.

Logan joins Roman in the hall, “What did you do?”

Roman smiles, “I gave him an option. The dress he already had on, or one he hasn't worn before. I'm letting him decide.”

“I see. That does sound like a good choice. He did seem to like our outfits more than his own.” Logan acknowledges with a nod

The door opens a crack, “Logan, is that you?”

“Yes Patton.”

“How much time do I have?” Patton asks.

“Five minutes.”

They hear a shaky breath come from behind the door, “I feel amazing right now, but I feel like i’ll regret my choice as soon as I leave.”

Virgil speaks up from where he had hidden in the shadows, “We aren't judging you Patt. And trust me, I don't think anyone at school will either.”

The door swings open.

“Oh my dear sweet Crofters, you are radiant.” Logan mumbles.

“You like it that much?” Patton asks, a blush creeping up his face.

Roman laughs, “Patton, even i'm jealous of how good you look in that dress!”

Virgil smirks, “You should be Roman, he looks better than you do.”

Patton blushes harder and looks at himself in the mirror on the back of his door. He admires the long dress. He thinks he looks like an elf from the Lord of the Rings. The dress is a dark forest green. The hems are adorned with silver embroidery, the sleeves are long and flowy. He is wearing a pair of small brown boots. And his hair is half up, pinned back by a clip of the star of Lothlorien.

Virgil smirks seeing the way Logan is staring at Patton. He swears they better admit their feelings soon or he’s gonna explode. He rolls his eyes, “Grab your bag and let’s go, or we’re gonna be late.”

Somehow they manage to get to school on time. Everything seems fine, they all have ensured they have everything and are ready for class. But as they pull up Patton freaks out.

“I can't do this, I wanna go back home!” He admits, his grip on his backpack tightening.

Roman turns around and frowns, “I would much rather you stay, but I’ll let you decide. Let me make a phone call while you three talk this through. I’ll be just outside.” He climbs out of the car and leans back against his door pulling out his phone.

Logan turns around from his place in the driver's seat to see Patton who was sitting behind him. “I thought you were feeling confident and beautiful? What happened?”

Patton squeezes his eyes shut, “Oh... uh, nothing really, I just realised that the people who were mean to me in the shop go here. I kinda saw them walk in the front gate just now. I don't want to have to face them again.”

Virgil frowns, “You want a hug Patton?”

Patton nods and Virgil holds him tight, “You don't have to face them alone. They won't hurt you. We will all be right here with you, and besides, you have lots of friends here who support you. You’re never as alone as you think you are.”

Patton smiles and gives Virgil a big squeeze before pulling away. He wipes his tears and looks up at Virgil, “Is my makeup smudged now?”

Virgil shakes his head “No, I think Roman put some fancy waterproof setting spray on you.”

“Oh. Was that the nice smelling thing he sprayed on my face as we were walking out the door?” Patton asks

Virgil snorts, “Yup, that would be it.”

Logan smiles proudly, “Yes Patton, like Virgil said, it won't just be us supporting you. Look who we convinced to join us in dressing up.”

Patton looks out the window past Virgil and sees a crowd of people coming out the front of the school gates. A bunch of guys are wearing clothing ranging from mini skirts to sun dresses to ballgowns.

Patton gasps as he sees who it is. There are guys from theatre, the debate team, several of the sports teams, the D&D club, and the art classes. All of Patton’s friends are in the crowd. He smiles so wide he feels his face might split open. Patton laughs, grabbing his bag and dashing around the car to Roman’s side.

“You still afraid to go in?” Roman asks as he sees Patton round the car, an amazed smile on his face.

“No, not at all.” Patton admits.

Logan and Virgil get out of the car and join them, waiting for the crowd to arrive.

“How did you do this?” Patton asks wonder in his voice.

“Well, Logan gave me the debate guy’s numbers, Virgil texted his D&D group, and we all texted all our friends, but for the record it was my idea.”

“Group hug!!!” Patton yells, squeezing them all tightly. “Thank-”

“Don't thank us. We are just being good friends.” Virgil says softly.

“You would do the same for us, and you deserve to get just as much love as you give.” Logan insists, smiling wide despite not really being one for hugs.

“Yeah, we didn't do much ourselves. We just rallied people who love you to support you in this so we can show you just how much you’re loved.” Roman adds with a smile.

Patton is crying what he will later deem the happiest tears he has ever shed. But that doesn't matter because right now he is surrounded by some of the best, most supportive friends in the world and he could not ask for more.

Bonus scene:

When the friends get over to them, they break up the hug. Patton compliments and hugs everyone who will let him. He laughs at the drama kids who strike obnoxious poses and compliments the debate team on their color coordinated outfits. He beams when the D&D team compliments his dress, saying it looks good enough to be in a fantasy movie. Patton rolls his eyes at Remmy in his mini skirt and crop top when he says he is the hottest of all of them. He ends up back at Logan. He looks so proud that they were able to do this for him.

“Can I give you a hug, Logan” Patton asks.

Logan smiles, “Sure, Patton.”

Patton wraps Logan in a tight hug, face buried in Logan’s neck. He pulls back after a second, just enough to look Logan in the face. Logan is smiling and Patton is so overwhelmed with joy. He leans in and presses a small kiss to Logan’s lips.

Logan blushes, a small smile creeping onto his lips, “Patton...”

“Yes, Logan?”

“Kiss me again?” Logan asks and Patton can't help but oblige. He leans in and kisses him again, longer this time. They both are smiley and giggly messes, but they don't care.

Next thing they know they hear Roman whooping at them, and Virgil muttering something about them being so oblivious and finally figuring it out.

They break apart and Patton gives Virgil a look, but his laughter makes it ineffective. Logan is blushing and hiding his face in his hands. Patton pulls them away from his face and plants a kiss on Logan’s forehead. They walk inside holding hands, feeling happier and more confident in themselves than ever.

[womenintranslation]

The Broken Chandelier

Coda (8.16.2020)

One big focus in this post is on what’s missing in the translator contract between Magdalena Edwards and New Directions. Read this as a cautionary tale. Plenty of gigs in literary translation come through your friendship network. But if things go off the rails, you’re on your own. Make sure you have a contract that protects you. Have your contract vetted by a lawyer. If you join the Author’s Guild a contract review by a lawyer is a membership benefit. At the very least, look at A Translator’s Checklist for Negotiating Contracts, presented at the 2016 ALTA Conference.  —Margaret

Original post dated 8.21.2019

The translator Twitterverse exploded last Friday after the Los Angeles Review of Books published Magdalena Edwards' incendiary article about a translation gone awry, "Benjamin Moser and the Smallest Woman in the World." An insider's account of her experiences working with Benjamin Moser and New Directions as the translator of Clarice Lispector's The Chandelier, Edwards' narrative paints a grim picture of what would otherwise seem like a stellar project—to work on a previously untranslated novel by an internationally renowned writer, as part of a well-received series put out by a prestigious publisher. As Edwards relates it, a cordial long-distance acquaintance formed with series editor Benjamin Moser over their shared interest in Lispector, Elizabeth Bishop, and translation was a prelude to being asked to take on the project in 2015. Things quickly turned sour, however, after Edwards sent her draft translation to Moser in the summer of 2017. "The truth is that Moser tried to get me fired, arguing that my completed manuscript was not up to snuff, that my level of Portuguese was insufficient, and that he would have to rewrite every line of my translation. What happened?" she asks, drawing us into the messy tale that follows.

Her account is a rare instance of a translator parting the curtains to reveal behind-the-scenes dealings with an editor and a publisher over a contested translation. While Edwards goes on to make a larger argument against Moser, giving instances of his borrowing from the work of others, almost all women, without giving credit, I'm especially attuned to the "wrongs" of this particular translation project and wondered what conditions made such a situation possible. Based on Edwards' account and my own reading between the lines, I understand the following: Yes, there was a contract, and it was strictly between the translator and New Directions. No, it had no provisions setting the terms of the working relationship between the translator and the outside series editor, who appears to have been given carte blanche in overseeing the series. No, there were apparently no revisions made to the contract to reflect the fact that the outside series editor (Moser), not the publisher (New Directions), would deem the manuscript acceptable or not. No, there were apparently no specific provisions about what an acceptable translation would be, giving the publisher, or rather, in this exceptional case, the outside series editor, lots of wriggle room. Barbara Epler of New Directions seems to have deferred to Moser's judgment in offering Edwards a "kill fee" i.e., thank you for your trouble, good-bye. But before offering the kill fee—something not in the contract and improvised by the publisher as a way out— did Epler ask Moser for some justification? Was any outside reader asked to look over the translation and weigh in? Or was it simply a matter of Moser's word and his steamrolling vision of how Lispector had to read in English?

After experiencing typical translator shame ("I was flustered and apologetic") after Moser trashed her translation and Epler sent her an email with the offer of the kill fee, Edwards wisely consulted a lawyer and began to push back hard against the steamroll.

So yes, there's a legal side to this, and Edwards’ informed resistance most likely kept her from being completely erased on the title page upon the book’s publication. In the end, Edwards was credited as “co-translator,” with Moser’s name first (they’re not even in alphabetical order). I see it as a perverse kind of credit, a non-thanks for her work, to be joined there with the person who wanted her kicked off the project.

Pure speculation: if Edwards had agreed to such an absurdity as a kill fee, what would have happened next? Would Moser have in truth retranslated every line of the original, starting from scratch? Or would he have leaned on Edwards' existing translation? The second half of Edwards' article makes the latter seem plausible.

If there was any doubt about Moser’s overstepping his role as editor, consider the bio-note he submitted to the New York Times to run with his review of Kate Briggs’ This Little Art. Since his takedown review attracted unusual interest among translators, many noticed that he’d given himself full credit for translating The Chandelier and hastened to alert the New York Times via Twitter, myself among them. (The Times quickly corrected it, as Edwards notes).

By way of comparison, I recall another multi-volume project that involved several translators working under a series editor to translate a single author: the massive retranslation of Proust’s À la recherche du temps perdu/In Search of Lost Time. In her "Note on the Translation,” Lydia Davis, who retranslated Swann’s Way, depicts a radically different working atmosphere for the crew of Proust translators:

“At the initial meeting of the Penguin Classics project, those present had acknowledged that a degree of heterogeneity across the volumes was inevitable and perhaps even desirable, and that philosophical differences would exist among the translators. As they proceeded, therefore, the translators worked fairly independently, and decided for themselves how close their translations should be to the original—how many liberties, for instance, might be taken with the sanctity of Proust's long sentences. And Christopher Prendergast [the series editor], as he reviewed all the translations, kept his editorial hand relatively light.” (emphasis mine) Swann’s Way, xxi-xxii.

It’s true that no two translation series are alike, and for sure no two editors are alike, but as a translator it was profoundly disturbing to read Edwards’ account. In a brave move, she stopped being a “nice girl” going along with the flow and stood up to the bully in this scathing public indictment. One wonders if there will be any response.

—Margaret Carson

[chosospersonalkitten]

Kim Doyoung Smut

Warnings: Smut (????) kinky: hot wax, ice, choking, rough(?), idk guys I’m too innocent for kinks lol

Your plan was to surprise Doyoung, you looked around the bedroom one last time. Small bowl full of ice cubes, check. The smooth one side and fluffy on the other paddle you both have been dying to try out, check. The last thing you needed to do was light up the cute little candles Doyoung left out.

“Y/n?” You heard him call out from the living room. “Are you almost done?”

“Yeah! You can come in now!” You bit your lip, excited for the longish night you had planned for him.

Doyoung walked into your shared room and blushes and almost immediately looks down when he sees the paddle on the bed.

“Oh, you turned them on.” He walks over to the little candles, they’re finally melting. That was quick. “Get on the bed.”

His back was still to you as he buttons his shirt.

“Huh?” you gulp.

“You heard me. Get. On. The. Bed.” He turns around, his shirt wide open, exposing his body to you.

You cautiously get on the bed, sitting on your knees, you watch Doyoung pick up one of the candles, the lilac color made it look so innocent.

“Take off your shirt.” You complied and practically threw your shirt across the room.

Doyoung smirks and slowly crawls on top of you, he straddles your legs and with one hand, he unbuttons and unzips your jeans.

He leans over and presses a quick kiss to your lips, being careful that he didn’t drop the lowly lit candle on you.

“You remember our safe word?” He says against your lips.

“Yes, it’s Penguin.” You blush, it was the silliest word you both could come up with.

He smiles and leans back, resting back on your legs, but careful not to put too much pressure on them.

He tilts the small candle and lets the wax drip onto your stomach and hips, occasionally he got it on your jeans before he moves further up, dripping the wax on your chest.

The feeling was somewhat strange, it was hot, but not uncomfortably hot. It felt like temperature of a hot tub, if you were being honest.

You look up at Doyoung, his lower lip was in between his teeth. With one hand, he pulls your jeans further down to reveal more of your skin to him.

You gasp when the wax hit a particular spot, your eyes involuntary close themselves.

You felt Doyoung lean over, his lips capturing yours. He, blindly, put the small candle on your nightstand and quickly removes your bra. His hand massages the wax onto your body, it almost took you by surprise when it melted into an oil, his hands and fingers digging into your skin beautifully. Doyoung felt your body relaxing under his, he smiles to himself.

His hand runs along your hip, one finger teases and slips under your panties, pulling them up and letting down. The sound of your panties hitting your skin making your face heat up.

“Don’t move and I’ll touch you.” Your eyes open when he completely removes your jeans, leaving you in your panties. “Hands and knees.”

You kind of felt embarrassed, there was a seriousness to Doyoung’s voice that you were completely used to. You couldn’t tell if he was enjoying himself or if he was really good at hiding it.

Once on your hands and knees, Doyoung leans over you once more, you were too focused on your own thoughts when you jump a little at the feeling of an ice cube being massaged into your lower back.

Your hips move back, and Doyoung’s hand slaps your ass.

“I said don’t move or else you can get yourself off.”

“I’m s-sorry.” You clench your jaw, trying your hardest not to move.

His hand grips onto your waist, he pressed his hard on your core. His movements are small, but to you, it’s unbearable. Why does he get to grind on you, but you weren’t allowed to move…

He takes himself out of his boxers, and rubs his length against your panties. His tip bumping your clit almost every time. Doyoung loves hearing your little gasps and whimpers, especially when they’re accompanied with your hand gripping onto his hand, egging him on.

He felt how wet you were, the ice in his hand was almost gone. He takes it and rubs it against the back of one of your thighs, he lets it slide that your hips moved.

“Stay still.” He commands, his length no longer touching you.

His hands grab and spank your ass.

“Doyoung!” Your cheeks turn red once again.

You hear him laugh a little as he pinched your ass.

“I can’t help it, babe.” He kisses your lower back and one of your cheeks.

His fingers curl around your panties and drags them down your legs, leaving them around your knees.

You felt his fingers run up and down your core, one sliding into you. A small sigh of relief escaping your lips.

He adds another, and doesn’t move them.

“Fuck yourself on my fingers, Y/n.” He says.

You turn your head to look at him, the smirk on his face taunting you.

You move yourself forward and back against his fingers, he curls them just enough to make you moan out. You pick up your pace a little, Doyoung’s fingers dig into your hip, guiding you to move faster against his fingers.

He stops your movements, making you cry out in frustration. He spanks you to silence you.

Just as you’re about to turn around and yell at him, you felt his length being rubbed up and down your core.

“How badly do you want me to fuck you?” He asks.

You don’t answer, but you do try to move your hips, trying to get him to get in you as fast as possible. Wrong move.

Doyoung retracts and spanks you, he slowly enters you, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

You look over your shoulder, Doyoung’s jaw was slightly dropped and his eyes were closed like he was savoring the feeling of your walls around his length. Once he was completely in, you let out a tiny innocent moan. It was like a switch flipped.

Doyoung’s hand weaves into you hair, pulling it hard, but not enough to hurt you, the other reaching over to ghost over your clit.

He thrusts faster into you, the sounds of skin slapping against skin fills your ears. His little pants and groans catch your attention, one of your hands reaches to grab his hand, pushing his fingers against your clit.

“Doyoung.” You moan out.

He rubs your clit a little harder, the simulation is too much, your legs involuntarily begin to shut themselves.

Doyoung pulls out, you wince at the sudden emptiness and let out a small scream when he flips you onto your back.

He rests your legs over his shoulders and slides back into you, his thrusts are merciless. You reach up to tug on his black locks but he intertwines his fingers with yours. He lets go of one of your hands, trailing his hand lazily against your breast before reaching your neck.

His hand squeezes gently, you felt your airway being restricted and you loved it.

Doyoung leans down to capture one of your nipples with his mouth.

You take the brief moment to reach over and grab the last ice cube that wasn’t completely melted.

You drag the ice across his back, he gasps and bucks at the sudden coldness and leans back.

You bring the ice to his chest, guiding it down his stomach finally stopping at his pelvis. He involuntarily bucks, again, when the small piece of ice slides down his thigh.

You moan out and reach out for him, bringing him close to your body, even though your legs were in the way.

He kisses you as he pounds into you. You felt your stomach tightening.

“I-I don’t know if I can hold it.” Doyoung moans.

“Then let go.” You breath into his ear, but he shakes his head.

He touches your clit, rubbing messy circles and figure eights against it.

“D-Doyoung!” You scream out as you feel your orgasm approaching.

He thrusts faster into you, his hand squeezing your neck once more. His eyes drinking up your every reaction, how your jaw drops from pleasure, how your eyes are trying to keep eye contact with his but failing. How your back arches for him, everything happening right now was just for him.

He thrusts harder into you making repeat his name over and over again, the feeling of your walls tightening around him was getting to be too much for him.

Your name escapes his lips as he finishes inside of you, his body drapes over yours as he continues to thrust into you.

He rubs your clit a little harder, finally pushing you over the edge.

His sweaty body begins to make your body feel too hot. Doyoung kisses your nose before rolling off of you, he quickly hops off the bed and disappears to the bathroom, returning with a warm damp towel.

He gently cleans you off, leaving lazy kisses against your thighs, on your mound, your stomach, each of your breast, and ending with a long loving kiss on your lips.

Doyoung returns to bed.

“I want to be the big spoon.” You pout as he tries to cuddle with you.

He laughs and turns around, your arms engulfing him. He loved feeling your breath against his bare back. He won’t admit it to you, but he enjoyed with you were the big spoon.

He yelps when his ass is slapped with something hard.

Doyoung’s head whips around to see what hit him, you’re smiling at him while holding a paddle.

“We didn’t get to use this.” You wink at him before leaning over to press your lips against his.

Not bad (hopefully) for my first somewhat rough kinky smut scene lol

@peach-chanyeol​ I hope you like it, Bub! :)