#they’re so cute i nearly died when they were dancing

[starkeylover]

screw team conrad or team jeremiah, im team taylor and steven FOR LIFE. when they were dancing to frank ocean ?? when daniel ceaser came on ?? (died dead)

[bump1nthen1ght]

It's Honest Work (Masc!Reader x NB!Ghost)

Pairing: Masc!Reader x NB!Ghost

Genre: Modern, Crushes, Pining

Word Count: 3380 words

Warning: N/A

Summary: You’ve started noticing some oddities of the old library you work at, smaller incidents building up to stoke your suspicion. Unbeknownst to you, the presence is looking less to haunt, and more to help.

A/N: Not sure if this is dark academia, but I hope I did some pining justice! This prompt was just so cute.

Request: Oooh could I request a Drabble featuring a masc reader who cares for an old library accidentally discovering that there’s been a timid but sweet ghost (enby) floating around the library’s old halls who’d been staying hidden cause they didn’t want to frighten reader and leave them all alone, all with some heavy romantic tension and pining please? Feel free to add whatever extra details you want if you feel like it, I’m just craving some sweet and spooky dark academia romance :)

Day 1: I think the library might be haunted.

You look at the drying ink on the page, wondering if the three hours of sleep you got last night is getting to you. 

It’s easy for your mind to wander in the library. Especially on nights like these, when no one wanders in for hours, when every slight noise echoes across the giant bookcases, when the dark corners seem full of monsters. It’s human instinct to grow wary, the deep-seated monkey-brain part of you on edge.

But this has been more than that. It's why you’ve decided to write stuff down, to catalog all the weird occurrences.

March 11th: 

Books in the YA section have been reorganized methodically to the dewey decimal system. Supervisor complimented me on my thorough work, and I know I did not do that good of a job.

Air conditioner that has not worked for months sputtered to life this morning after I complained about the summer heat. No one has been able to figure out what happened.

You look at your list, those doubtful thoughts once again creeping into your mind. These really could be explained away as happenstance, pure coincidence, or another fault of your sluggish, sleep-deprived mind.

But you must push on. They may jot happen everyday, but these oddities have stuck out to you the past couple weeks. You’re hoping that by writing them down you’ll either see a pattern that ascribes logic to all of this, or see that there’s no connection at all and be assured it's just your own overreaction.

The rest of your shift goes relatively normally, nothing too odd occurring. You allow yourself to sink into the normal routine of sorting books, helping patrons and cleaning. It’s a nice rhythm and it’s hard not to feel peaceful in it.

Even with an extra pair of eyes watching you.

—

 You must really love this new artist. With the library closed down for the night you don’t stop your humming, nor the shimmying of your shoulders and hips. You even walk with a slight bounce, headbanging to the heaviest parts. It’s enough of a distraction that you completely miss a book falling from your cart, nearly left behind as you trot into the new section. Luckily, Gene is able to grab it just as quickly and slot into the cart, right next to the other books of the same genre. You continue to bop, muttering some half-lyrics under your breath as you sort books.

Ah, they’re always so cute when they dance.

For an avid reader who died in a library, you'd think Gene would never be lacking in entertainment. And yet after ninety odd years, even Gene had to admit reading could be snore.

But then you showed up.

You, the vibrant, young librarian, just bursting with passion. Who took the extra time to recommend a series based on people’s tastes, who always volunteered to be the reader at kids reading circle, enthusiastically acting out each part. Who remembered each familiar face and what they had just finished and what they were hoping to read next.

If we had met when I was alive, would they remember me, too?

Just the thought of talking to you has Gene in a tailspin, hands throne over their translucent face as if they still blushed like before. 

No way.

You were so you and they were so themselves. Even if they were alive, Gene would never have the courage to come up to you. Not with that radiant smile, or your laugh…

At first Gene and contented themselves just to watch you. Convince themselves you were the first new face in a while, all your coworkers being people in their 60’s who had worked at the library for 30+ years. That hearing you banter over the phone was like watching a sitcom, getting a snapshot into an idealized life.

But then you had a particularly bad day, nothing going to plan. Someone had screamed at you, your coffee had spilled the minute you stepped into the building, and your hair was acting strange. You had hidden in a storage closet and cried, and Gene felt their dead heart breaking all over again.

That was the day they started helping, in their own way. It was win-win, really. You had most of your inconveniences done away with, and Gene got to feel like they were actually interacting with you. Like you guys were friends.

Maybe more, one day.

Gene sighs, breath unneeded but the emotion too heavy not to. The watch as you bop down another aisle, doing a quick air-guitar in between the aisles.

It seems I might be in over my head.

—

Day 5: WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!!!

After a whole week’s worth of observations, your fears have been confirmed, not assuaged.

Something weird is happening. Umbrella’s don’t just pop up when the weather takes an unexpected turn and you forget yours at home. Fridges don;’ just close when you forgetfully leave them open. But the most damning thing of all is-

Some kid spilled apple juice all over one of the tables today. Luckily no books were harmed, but I went to go get some paper towels while the mom rushed her kid to the bathroom. When I was back, the table was clean. No bystanders, no thrown out paper towels, nothing.

I work alone today.

Something is happening, even if it's not necessarily a bad thing. More of just an odd thing, in a guardian angel sort of way.

You’re not sure where to go from here. You had hoped this journal would lead you somewhere, some kind of resolution. But this half-answer gave you nothing but confusion. And maybe a little gratitude.

Maybe…you should just leave it alone. Let your angel do their magic, and take the extra generosity when you can.

You’re closing up for the day, headphones left in their case as you put away leftover books and move the carts around. Your ears are pricked for another person, a small part of you still convinced that there must be someone else hiding. The front entrance has already been locked, you’re in a bottle here.

Nothing, not a peep. Not even a kid who lost track of time reading and hasn’t realized the library was closed. It’s quiet, too quiet.

With all the closing tasks done, all your stuff shoved into your bag, you’re just about ready to go home. It’s a bit anticlimactic, and you start wondering if this ghost theory came from a need to spice up your life a bit.

Still, you can’t help the feeling…

Right before you turn off the lights, bag slung over your shoulder, you turn to the looming library. 

“Um, I don’t know if anyone’s actually there, but I just wanted to say…uh…thank you. For helping me out. If that’s what you're doing, anyway. I guess I don’t know it’s for my benefit but…I appreciate it.” 

Silence lingers, echoes off long stacks of books. No response.

You sigh, wondering what you were thinking in the first place. You flick off the lights, turn towards the door and start moving for your car keys.

“You’re welcome.”

Your body bag hits the ground with a thump as you nearly jump 2 feet in the air, heart kicked into overdrive. Eyes darting around, your blood pumps fast across your chest, neurons firing.

“Holy shit.” You hold out a hand like calming a wild predator, even though there’s still only empty space all around you.

That was real, you heard that. It had to be. 

“H-hello?” Anyone there?

Like a Dickensian dream, the kind that has you rubbing your eyes and questioning your sanity, a half-see through apparition peaks its head from behind a bookshelf. If it weren’t for the faded apparation proving your initial ideas correct, the fact that they’re hovering 3 feet off the ground would have.

Oh my god, I was right.

“Hello.” A gentle voice whispers, the transatlantic accent already apparent. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” They tug at their long sleeves, eyes darting all over the place. The dumb expression of shock on your face probably isn’t helping.

“It’s no problem! I wasn’t scared…just surprised.” You rub the back of your neck, the beating of your heart slowing down just a bit. Of all the ghosts to meet in your lifetime, this one seemed pretty nice. “Um, I’m ____, Nice to meet you.” Taking a step forward, you hold out your hand, then pull it back, wondering if a bow would make more sense. Then you stop and think “That’s stupid”, and hold out your hand again.

God, even around dead people I am so awkward.

But it’s enough to make the ghost giggle, peeking out from behind the bookshelf. They hover over, laced shoes just barely touching the ground, and take your hand in a handshake

Touching their skin feels like touching a pile of feathers; A tickling of sensations that only last for a second, a vague imprint before it’s only air behind. It’s interesting, and less unnerving than you thought it would be.

“I’m Gene. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ___. Officially.”

You nod along, brain still reeling from the revelations currently occurring.

Though their silhouette is partially transparent you can see the hints of color of their clothing. Some faded brown slacks, tucked into high socks and shoes. Their button up is loose and striped, not as pressed or finely cut as for a suit, but more for everyday. All in all it looks like an oufti you could see being worn by a hipster of today, or a particular dedicated historian. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too. I think I already know the answer, but, are you the one who's been helping me?”

Gene’s face goes dark, no blood flowing through their veins but their blush still apparent. They tuck a stray lock of hair behind their ear, twirling it nervously.

“Yes…that was me. I never meant to spook you, it’s just…” Gene yanks at the wayward hair, eyes still pointed to the ground. “...seemed right, to help around. I have been sort of free-loading here in the afterlife.”

You nod along, silently cheering that your mad hypothesis was correct after all.

“Well, thank you, again. It’s actually been really nice, someone having my back all this time.” You scratch the back of your neck. “How long have you been here, anyway?” 

“About, 90-ish years, now? I can’t remember the exact day, just that it was a Sunday, and I had come here on my day off. I loved this place.” Gene looks all around at the library. It’s a mix of nostalgia and melancholy, a quiet resignation.

“And…it’s just been you? No other ghosts around?”

“Nope.” Gene sighs a nonexistent breath, rubbing the bridge of their nose. “Just me. Guess I’m only one to be foolish enough to die in a library. By a copy of Moby Dick, no less.”

“Oh.”

There’s a twisting in your gut, a primal sadness at the fact. The library was large, larger than most, but even you felt stifled after working a particularly long shift. There were some windows added in recent decades, but the old construction of the building meant little light often crept in. The tall bookcases didn’t help, making the place seem more cramped and constricting than it was. It was nice in bursts, but nine whole decades?

And they still found the time to help me out.

You had been planning on heading home and crashing, maybe vegging out in front of the TV before dragging yourself to bed. It feels too anticlimactic now, given how this night is going.

What to do? You don’t want to ask too many prying questions, even though you’re dying to know more about the afterlife. Feels a little too personal, even tasteless. Then again, you can’t just leave. Not after they made the effort to introduce themselves, and have been your guardian angel these past few weeks.

“What books do you like?”

Gene looks slightly taken aback, their brow furrowing.

“Uhm, a little bit of everything, I suppose. I’ve read just about everything here. But I guess if I had to choose….” That blush returns, coloring their cheeks a slightly darker hue. “...Mystery. I’m partial to Mystery novels..”

“Mystery, huh?” You tap your chin, thinking about the last shipment of books you got. “Any particular favorites?”

Gene’s see-through eyes somehow light up, their mouth quirking into a grin.

“Agatha Christie, oh for sure Agatha Christie. I actually-” Gene stutters over their words, suddenly sheepish, “-I was reading one of her books when it…” They look upward at the tall bookshelves, rubbing a non-existent bump on the back of their head, “...when it happened.” Gene shrugs their shoulders. “Guess I was too lost in thought.”

Well, at least they have good humor about it, it seems.

“Oh, she’s really good! I’ve only read the Murder of Roger Ackeroyd, but I remember loving it when I did.” The library training kicks in, the familiar Christie Christie Christie you had to shelve and the countless kids reading her for English class haunting you. “We have a pretty decent mystery collection, their on the-”

“Third row down, shelves 28-30?”

Gene’s hand point the same way, not even looking in the direction. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Force of habit.” 

Gene’s cheeks darken again in a blush, waving their hands back and forth. “I-it’s no problem! I know this place a little too well, by now I've read about every mystery book it’s ever had. I think I’m stuck with that knowledge forever.”

You’re about to say something, maybe ask them more about the books, when the clock chimes.

It’s an old clock, installed up at the front back in the 70’s. It still chimes at every hour, little less useful now that everyone carries clocks in their pocket.

“My Apologies!” Gene blusters, floating form jerking a bit upright. “I’m keeping you so late, you’d probably be home by now if not for me.” Gene’s hands tug at their sleeves, which probably would be threadbare at this point if not for the fact they are incorporeal. 

“It’s no problem! I don't live that far anyway. Besides, what kind of person would I be if I didn’t thank my savior properly?”

Gene averts their eyes, a small smile on their face. The bask in the praise, sinking into it like a warm blanket.

Cute.

The thought surprises even you, the apple of your cheeks feeling hot.

“Do you like movies?”

Gene eyebrow furrows, a small dimple on the side of their cheek. It’s a sign of their thinking, a small detail you’re slowly starting to pick up again.

“I enjoy them. I saw a couple when I was alive. Those and the few they put on here, sometimes.”

Ahh, and those are few and far between. Most of them are stuffy documentaries or animated children's movies. Not that those are bad, per say, but it seems alongside everything else, Gene has been deprived of most other genres while trapped in the library.  

An idea blossoms in your mind, locking the front door behind you and setting down your backpack.

“Gene, I think I found a way to pay back those kind deeds.”

“You don’t need to do that-”

“Nope, I’m gonna.” There’s almost a skip to your step as you hurry to the employee office, specifically the larger closet in the very back. It’s filled with all the stuff needed for those rare movie nights; blankets, pillows, foldable chairs for stability. You shove all of those into a big laundry basket, then gently fold the projector screen and tuck the projector on top of the soft pile.

Gene is in the same spot as before, puzzled as you bring out more and more things.

“And, of course.” You shake an old box of microwave popcorn. “No movie night is complete without this.” You ripe open the bag with some fanfare, popping it into the staff microwave before running back out.

“Movie night?” Gene tilts their head, reminding you too much of a puppy. 

“Yeah!” You lay out the first blanket, setting some chairs up at all corners, then draping another blanket on top. “A wonderful modern soiree, The movie night is a classic occasion that everyone has to experience once in their life. Or, afterlife.”

The lights in the library are still slightly dimmed, only two flickering from when you were closing up. But they don’t seem as spooky as they did before, much more cozy.

Gene peaks their head in as you fluff up more pillows and blankets, using other chairs as supportive backs so the two of you can sit up.

You sit back on your legs, admiring your cozy masterpiece.

“Ta-da!”

Gene leans further in, feeling up the soft fleece and cotton. Their thumbs run circles over the fabric. It makes you wonder the last time they even laid in a bed, let alone wrapped themselves in the blanket.

“And I have just the movie too! You’re gonna love it.”

You prop the projector up on a seat covered in a thin sheet, shuffling out of the fort to hang up the projector on a nearby wall. By the time you’re turned around, you see Gene has curled themselves into the blanket fort, knees tucked into their chest, sitting on top of the blankets. You grab the now hot popcorn from the microwave, pour it into the large communal bowl, snag the nearby remote and join them, turning the device on and connecting it to your phone.

“Here, I got this just for ya.” You hand Gene a fleece blanket, a boldly decorated Lion King Merch blanket someone’s mom has donated too many years ago. 

Gene takes it like it’s hot, holding it daintily in their hands.

“Oh, thank you.”

They lay it over their lap, smoothing out the wrinkles. Their back is ramrod straight.

“First rule of blanket fort, coziness comes first.” You quickie burrito yourself in blankets, settling the bowl in between you two. 

Gene takes your hint, shoulders unlocking, knees untucking and splaying out in front of them. They daintily rest their nonexistent weight on the back of the pillow.

A familiar streaming site pops up on the director and your quick to search for your movie of choice.

“Knives out? I think I may have heard of this one.”

“Oh yeah, it was a huge hit. Really good mystery movie.”

You click play, hands shuffling through the bowl of popcorn and stuffing your mouth. You hold up the bowl for Gene.

Gene looks at the bowl, brows still crossed.

Wait a minute.

You struggle to swallow the handful of popcorn.

“Sorry…can you eat? I just realized, uh-”

A translucent hand shifts around the popcorn, moving it just like a corporeal one would. Gene lifts it up, just as surprised as you are that they can hold it.

“I don’t need to eat. But I guess I never tried to before. Never too many options.”

Gene daintily pops a popcorn into their mouth, mouth chewing in slow motion. 9 decades later, they're almost out of practice.

A dramatic swallow, and…

“Apparently I can.”

“Hell yeah.”

—

3/4th’s into the movie, your long shift finally hits you. It’s slow and gradual at first, Gene only noticing once your head hits their shoulder, a soft tap, half-of a sensation.

You’re still snuggled up into your blanket, the warmth of your body seeping into their half-one. Gene never realized how cold they were until they touched your hand earlier tonight. They had forgotten just how hot human bodies were.

But you don’t flinch away or shy from the cold breeze, snuggling deeper into the soft sensation, the weird texture of touching something half-way in this dimension.

If they still had a heart, Gene’s would surely be thumping wildly. So long they had wondered what it would be like, talking to you, doing things with you, touching you.

A stray hair falls onto your forehead. Gene brushes it away, goosebumps rolling down your neck. You look so cute like this, relaxed and in your element.

Maybe there could be something after all.

[farfromharry]

—Eddie Munson

requested - *

total word count - 182.7k

over 500 notes

spam likers will be blocked !!

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blurbs

admiring eddie - 0.6k

the real eddie munson - 0.9k

(eddie drabbles)

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oneshots

The angel and the devil - [ 9.4k ]

The two of you met at a halloween costume in polar opposite outfits. What started as Eddie being a gentleman and helping out a drunk girl, turned into a rapidly blooming crush. He believed it to be one sided after he thought you were avoiding him, but you were falling hard too, just too shy to admit to the guy you nearly puked on that he was kind of cute. 

↳ Part 2: The freak and his girlfriend - [ 4.2k ]

The two of you go on more dates together until Eddie finally gets the perfect green light to officially ask you to be his girlfriend. Spoiler alert, Steve still doesn’t approve. 

The dance - [ 2.1k ]

Who in their right mind would want to take time from their own prom to dance with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson? Answer: you. He was alone on the bleachers with the cutest pouty face and you couldn’t stand to see him like that, though he knew it was probably out of pity anyway. But little did he know you had had a budding crush on him since the second time he repeated his senior year. Now you were both seniors (again) and this might be your last chance to tell him.

Long live the hero - [ 8.1k ]

After Eddie almost dies in the upside down, Steve and Dustin need to take him somewhere that he can get help, only a wanted criminal can’t go to a hospital; so they take him to you. They’re not completely unaware about your history together, but they, nor you, suspected that history would start to repeat itself and you would find yourself falling for Eddie Munson all over again. 

I put a spell on you - [ 13.6k ]

Eddie stumbles upon a house in the middle of the woods that contains something he never expected. What happens next is a lot of crazy shit, that takes him on a rollercoaster of emotions. But what he got out of it was a pretty great girlfriend and confirmation that magic was real, and badass.

In another life - [ 6.6k ]

Eddie bumps his head after a fight with you and experiences two separate dreams of what his life could be like if things with you were different. When he wakes up back in your arms afterwards, he learns to appreciate what he has.

Enough is enough - [ coming soon ]

Within a week, Eddie is sick of life on the run. He doesn’t like how he’s being forced to live, or the way his friends and loved ones are being outcasted by association with him. In an attempt to make things better for you all, and finally give him a rest, he decides he wants to turn himself in.

The rockstar - [ coming soon ]

Eddie Munson was the guitarist of a band you found performing in an old, shitty bar. You never expected or planned to develop an infatuation with him, nor did you think he would ever return it. But when Corroded coffin finally got big, you were right there by his side cheering him on like you always had. Until you weren’t.

Ozzy Munson - [ 19.5k ]

When paired together for a project you think it’ll be the end of the world, and at one point it feels like it is, but then it turns out to be the best thing that ever happened to you.

I love you, forever - [ 5.5k ]

Your boyfriend was an idiot, the biggest idiot you had ever met. The belief he was a loser and a coward had broke him down so much that he was willing to risk his life to be a hero, only he didn’t consider the consequences it would have on everyone else if he didn’t make it out alive.

Something out of nothing - [ coming soon ]

You messed up one night and told your parents you would bring your boyfriend to dinner. The problem? you don’t have one. So in the space of a week you have to come up with a plan and find a willing suitor to go along with it, but what are the odds that during this fake relationship… you actually fall in love?

Freak - [ coming soon ] 

There’s only one person in the world who had never considered Eddie Munson a freak; had never even uttered that dreaded word in relation to him, ever. He loved you for that, more than anything. But sometimes people say things they don’t mean in the heat of the moment and it creates a rift in a relationship.

Head over heels - [ coming soon ]

The 30th - [ coming soon ]

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series

Beth - [ completed ]

Eddie’s trying to navigate adulthood after a baby is dropped on him from a prior hookup. He tries his best for the baby girl and does well, things are made even easier with the help of his friends around him. When he meets you his life flips again, and although it takes a while to admit your feelings, he eventually ends up with a family he never expected he would have.

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[yesitsmewhataboutit]

Bnha Boy’s Favorite BET/VH1 Show To Watch With You

(Bakugo, Kirishima, Shoto, Hawks, Shinsou)

(Black!reader)

Masterlist

Kirishima

Anything Tyler Perry

And I mean anything

He loves the drama and gets so invested

I cannot tell you how many times he’s watched and rewatch Sistas and Meet The Browns with you

He always had his snacks and blankets ready

You will cuddle and eat with him for hours while watching and being invested to whatever he decides that day

It’s honestly amazing

And the Madea movies?

Watches at least one every 2 days

His absolute favorite thing to do is have a binge day and binge them all

Shinsou

Sistas

That’s it

There’s no explanation

You’ve asked him many times, and he doesn’t even know

But he’s obsessed

He’s share his theory’s and ramble as you watch

It’s adorable

Andrea is his favorite hands down

She’s too much of a baddie for him not to love and worship the ground she walks on

He of course loves you more but it’s a close battle

Hawks

Everybody Hates Chris

He nearly dies of laughter every time he watches any episodes

He loves it so much

He cannot stand Caruso

His blood boils anytime he’s on screen

Keigo always says he loves Tonya even though she’s a brat he hopes your kids will come out looking like her cause she’s adorable

It was the cutest thing you’d ever heard him say

He also proceeded to explain how he wanted at least 2 adorable little girls

And he said he feels for Chris so he’s going to make sure his 3 sons all get along and there will be no bullying or teasing tolerated in his household

Bakugo

Bernie Mac, Everybody Hates Chris, Martin, and the Madea movies

So I even need to explain?

Katsuki strives to be like Bernie

He’s loves the threats and stuff Bernie says to the kids

It’s Katsuki, are you surprised?

He said if his daughter is ever like Vanessa he will “bust her head till the white meat show”

You watched his heart break when he found out Bernie died

Watched his show on repeat for 2 months as he should

If you thought he loved Bernie, his love for Rochelle exceeds that 10 fold

He loves her and is constantly yelling “YOU TELL EM ROCHELLE. HELL YEA”

Makes you laugh every time. You love it

Speaking of Rochelle

He loves Martin so much cause of the shade Martin and Pam throw at each other

He takes mental notes wanting to use some of them cause they’re just that great

Madea is on top before all of them

Shes his literal spirit animal

This man almost died the first time he watched Family Funeral when she smacked Hattie

And he only laughed harder when she did it again to her and Uncle Joe

You thought you were gonna have to take him to the hospital he was laughed so hard

Literally almost coughed up a lung

Todoroki

Martin and Fresh Prince

He loves the humor in Martin

He finds it nice and loves to cuddle and watch him and Gina

He loves there relationship

He’s thinks they’re adorable

He always does the most adorable laughs when Martin and Pam are going back and forth

Or Sheneneh does literally anything

He finds her amusing

10/10 best thing to do: watching Fresh Prince

As you know, he’s not big on… emotions

But he will smile and groove a little with you as you sing along and dance to the Fresh Prince intro

He watches you lovingly when you sit up from his cuddles as a new episode starts and you sing along being cute. He’ll grab your hand and just smiling as he watches you

Literally his favorite thing ever

He also loves Will Smith in general

And will watch any movie he’s in cause he knows it’ll be hilarious

He’d never tell you cause he’s embarrassed but he’d love to have a handshake with you like Will and Jazz have🥺

Masterlist

For my baddies in the back: @ofblckwriters

[mooshys]

c’mon, can we bring into circulation the embarrassing and weird headcanons of the hq guys...? like they’re a bunch of dumb boys and I just KNOW there’s a treasure trove of material out there to share… for example:

hanamaki absolutely cannot dougie. for the life of him. he's watched the music video a million times and practices the dance in front of his bathroom mirror every night, but he has 0 control over his body when it's time to hit the dance floor and does this weird pathetic wiggle that has the girls around him dying of laughter

aran has a satchel he wears occasionally when going out and the twins call it his “man purse” loud enough so that other people on the street can hear them

osamu sprayed his mom’s perfume into his mouth when he was a kid to see if it tasted as good as it smelled (it didn't)

bokuto will put two volleyballs under his shirt when it’s break time to annoy konoha and call them his “volley-boobs”

kuroo accidentally called his homeroom teacher "mom" once when asking for help on a homework question and now goes red in the face whenever he has to talk to her

tendou used to have "ninja" as his dream job when he was in elementary school and well into middle school because of his obsession with naruto (and he still says dattebayo sometimes too...)

matsukawa will occasionally say "ruh-roh" like scooby under his breath when taking exams

futakuchi didn't know you had to wash your bath towels on a weekly basis because he thought that him being fresh out of the bath equated to both him and his drying towel being clean

ushijima didn't correctly connect his airpods to his phone for the first week he got them, so whenever he went on a run he would blast the music from his phone speaker while thinking his airpods were kind of weak on the sound...

terushima once put mentos into his mouth and drank a bottle of coke because he thought the coke would shoot out of his mouth like a fire hose, but instead he choked on the mentos and nearly died

hinata used to think that kony would kidnap him in the middle of the night in 2012 even though he lived in japan

oikawa once tried to rev his engine when waiting at an intersection to impress a cute girl who stopped next to him, but he forgot to shift his car into park and accidentally rear-ended the car in front of him

[tossawary]

1,000 words of an AU in which Mobei-Jun meets Shang Qinghua at a young age and comes away with the (correct) impression that Shang Qinghua is a god. 

-cut-

When Mobei was a young child, the sun came down from the heavens and saved his life. 

 He was only four years old. He was weak then. He was naive. He was purposefully abandoned by his uncle to the cruel mercies of demon-loathing humanity - and as he looks back on this betrayal, he is certain that he would have died then without heavenly interference. 

 As that abandoned child, when he finally realized the depth of the threat that surrounded him, he tried to run. Yet he was too weak for even that. Human hands burning with that cloying spiritual energy grabbed him by the wrist, yanking hard on his shoulder, and he remembers the foul taste of human blood filling his mouth as he bit down on this unwanted restraint. 

 The next thing he knew, hands were everywhere. They pulled at his hair, pinned down his flailing wrists and legs, and dragged him across the ground. Screaming brought neither his uncle nor his father. It only brought a hard, rattling blow across the face. 

 The golden-robed humans intended on taking him to Huan Hua Palace. They wielded the name like a weapon against him, promising permanent imprisonment and never-ending torture. 

 And then the sun descended. 

 A new figure appeared, the flare of their sudden arrival nearly blinding in its brightness, this newcomer burning with a power that had felt far beyond common spirituality. Their presence was too much to stand. All of the golden-robed humans and onlookers around him fell unconscious, one by one, unable to stand such glory touching down. 

 He fell to the ground with them, not unconscious, but nearly. 

 The blinding light faded, sooner or later, and footsteps quickly approached. Hands reached out to pull him up out of his daze. They were warm, but not nearly as hot as might have been expected. They were also soft, far softer than he ever could have imagined, and they pulled him from the ground with easy strength and easier gentleness. He remembers this touch with the greatest clarity. 

 He remembers the hand that reached up to brush his hair out of his hurting face. 

 “Oh, wow, you have… the cutest face I’ve ever seen!” 

 Mobei doesn’t remember what expression he was making - he likely stared open-mouthed at the smiling face in front of him. 

 It was a boy, who seemed so much older and taller than him at the time, but in hindsight likely only could have appeared to be a year or two older. He still seemed larger than life. Mobei looks at his hands now and knows that he could hold their joined fists from that meeting in one palm, but that day, the boy’s warm hands felt big, though not too big. Just right. 

 The boy had a strange-looking face, unlike any other, with a very wide smile and deep brown eyes that squinted as he grinned. His hair was brown, but it looked so warm in the sunlight. His robes were simple and yellow, but with the way a glow seemed to cling to him, the child Mobei was in that moment convinced himself that the sun had descended to save him. 

 The boy who looked like the sun daringly pinched Mobei’s cheek. This too was gentle. It was so light, but still uncomfortable given the bruising to his face and unexpected. The unexpected was unwelcome. 

 Mobei objected, pulling away with a small sound. 

 “Ah! Sorry, sorry! I couldn’t resist!” the boy cried, letting go immediately. Though his fingers flexed longingly several times in the air, he managed to keep himself from tugging on Mobei’s face again. “How could anyone resist this face? My… my prince, I never could have imagined that you would ever be this cute! You’re so little! Your cheeks are so round!” 

 Mobei forcefully pulled his hands out of the boy’s hands entirely then. No one had ever talked to him like this before. It was too confusing for him. 

 “Sorry, my prince! Sorry, I’ll stop! Really, I’ll stop… somehow. Ahhh…” 

 The boy danced back a step, holding his hands up in surrender, and then looked around at the fallen bodies of the golden-robed cultivators. 

 “It’s a good thing I put an alert on you!” he declared. “Bullying baby demons, what scum!” In a lower voice, he grumbled, “Picking on my favorite person too? I won’t have it! Behold the might of my hacked powers, you shitty, no-good, fucking dirtbags…! Ah, this cancels out the creepiness of the alert, right…?” 

 Mobei said nothing. He trembled, being lost and confused and so very far from home. 

 The boy noticed his expression and flailed, his hands flapping wildly. “They’re not dead! Eh, at least I think they’re not dead? It’s kind of hard to be an all-powerful god of this world when the user interface looks like someone tried to kiddie-proof its limited options… They’re probably fine! They’ll sleep it off! Not that they deserve it, really, but this great god can be merciful.” 

 Mobei no longer remembers these words - the exact words - that the boy said. There were too many of them, going by him too quickly, and they were all so strange. He only remembers the shape of them now. He would not- he did not later forget, however, after they parted ways that the boy had repeatedly referred to himself as a god. 

 The boy’s shoulders slumped and slowly, gently, he reached out to take Mobei’s hands again. Mobei began to take a trembling step back, but it was too late. The boy had taken his hands again in that warm, gentle grip. 

Mobei does not remember thinking in this moment. He had not yet fully recognized the boy’s words and what they meant. He acted on reflex and bit the hand of the god who had saved him. 

 “Ow!” The boy let go at once, dancing away again. “Ow! Ow! You bit me?! Holy shit, you bit me! Why would you do that when I just saved your life?! Oh, you ungrateful little brat! So ungrateful! Ow! Ahhhhh…” 

-to be continued-

[luimagines]

oooh i have an idea, how would dear reader reacts to the chain's secrets? they could be canon like wolfie being twi, or something you headcanon!

Masterlist

I procrastinated on this one admittedly because I had no idea where to take it but after writing out a list and appointing a secret to each boy. I have it done.

Some things are definitely headcanons.

Part one will include Hyrule, Sky, Warrior, Four and Wild.

Content under the cut!

Hyrule

The battle wasn’t necessarily hard to deal with- the monsters weren’t difficult to deal with and there weren’t a lot of them to begin with.

You slashed, dashed and kicked every enemy away from you and watched as they fell to your blade. Every new step revealed a new purple cloud as you danced around the battle field.

You saw Wild and Twilight fighting back to back with practiced ease and handling it as well as you were. Warrior and Sky was side by side closer to Time and Legend than the rest of the group was and Four and Wind were up in the trees striking the enemy down at a distance and no doubt scheming something while the going was easy.

The only one you had no idea where he was, was Hyrule.

And that didn’t take a lot to dive into your brain and wriggle uncomfortably until your own insecure thoughts pushed you to go look for him.

Between the monsters and the land mines of purple smoke, it was a little difficult to find him.

But when you do- he does something you don’t fully understand at first.

You manage to run into him in a clearing, but he doesn’t notice you at first. Instead, you see him take his sword and run it through his palm. His blood coats the length of his blade, and it drips down his hand onto the grass below.

He watches the monsters in front of him and dances for a minute around them before he takes a breath and kills them effortlessly.

You frown and step toward him. “Why did you do that?”

Hyrule jumps higher than should be physically possible and doesn’t catch himself on the way down. He falls flat on his butt and looks up at you with wide and startled eyes.

“Are you ok?” You kneels next to him and go to take his injured hand. “What on earth were you trying to do?

Hyrule jerks his hand back like you’ve burned him and you see the magic flow through the air around his wound- closing it like it never happened.

“Link?” You frown again and slowly place your hand in your lap. You’re confused and a little afraid for him. You know that blood magic is taboo for a reason and is typically avoided more often than not because of its’s dark nature- but you never thought Hyrule of all people would dabble in it.

“I’m fine.”

“Link.” You stress a little more. “What were you trying to do? I didn’t think you were capable of blood magic... At least you don’t usually use those kind of spells. Is that why you fight on your own for a while each time?”

“I’m not using blood magic.” Hyrule frowns and stands abruptly. 

“Then why-?”

“It’s not important.”

“Hyrule, you’re hurting yourself. I’d say that that’s pretty important.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Don’t make me get Time.” You threaten. “I’ll get Legend too. I bet they’ll get some answers out of you.”

“You won’t just drop it, will you?” He sneers

“Nope.” You stand and cross your arms. “What were you trying to do?”

“I was just checking something.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Like if a curse would work or something?”

Hyrule tenses and he crosses his arms- instantly looking away from you.

“WERE YOU ACTUALLY TRYING TO CAST A CURSE?!” You screech.

“THE CURSE WAS CAST ON ME!” He yells back.

You both still for a moment and wait for the forest to show any signs that others might have heard you.

The sounds of distant fighting continues and after a minute of waiting some more, no one shows up to check on either of you, so you’re safe.

You turn back to your companion and furrows your eyebrows. You lower your voice just above a whisper just in case someone might be on the way but now you need answers. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He scowls- a face you’re not used to seeing on him and throws his arms down his sides in anger. “Back home, Ganon cast a curse on me. The monsters need my blood in order to resurrect him and I can’t risk letting any monsters from my time getting to me. I need to check if the other monsters will follow suit.”

You blink, not expecting that answer but your anger flares up regardless. “So you go out on your own to check this curse because your blood is needed to resurrect hatred incarnate? What if you’re overpowered? What if they do react to it? How are we supposed to help you if you’re alone?”

“It’s my problem to deal with. I don’t need-”

“Shut up.” You scowl and grab him by the shoulders. You shake him roughly for as long as you speak. “We are your friends! We care about you! We don’t want to see you hurt! We’re going to help you! Whether you want it or not- we’re not to let you deal with this alone. Not while we’re here.”

“Stop shaking me.”

You let him go.

“I won’t tell the others because I know you wouldn’t like that.” You say. “But this stops today. You hear me? None of us are just going to let these freaks near you and this is not necessary while you have a whole team of heroes just as pissed about the situation as you are. You hear me?”

“Loud and clear.”

“How clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good.”

Sky 

Sky wakes up one day with a far away look in his eye which immediately puts you on edge.

Not only that but to make it worse, he doesn’t stop looking at you.

He looks scared.

Every five minutes you swear you catch him looking in your direction only to look away in haste when you look back at him.

No one is saying anything and it doesn’t help your paranoia.

With some people walking ahead you, you step back and take a spot next to Sky. You notice that he’s tense and walking robotically, and trying to match your pace. “Dude, what’s up? You’re freaking me out.”

Sky trips over himself and finally looks you in the eye. “What do you mean?”

“You woke up like you saw a ghost. You’ve been looking over to me every five minutes and even now you look like you want to sprint away from me. Did I do something?”

“I.. Ummm...” Sky stutters for a minute before swallowing whatever lump was in his throat. “I just had a dream... is all.... I’ll get over it.”

“I’m assuming it had something to do with me then.”

“No, not exactly.” Sky’s quick to speak even if you can see the beginning’s of sweat collect on his brow. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Want to talk about it?” You tilt your head. “It looks like it really shook you up.”

“Oh, um, I-”

“Maybe you died and Sky freaked out.” Legend pushes you forward and away from Sky. “He doesn’t have to talk about it if he doesn’t want to.”

“Ok, my god, Legend slow down! Not everyone is as emotionally constipated as you! Talking about things is healthy and important!” You shout over your shoulder, trying to dig your heels into the dirt with little to no luck.

Legend seems a bit stronger right now that he usually is, you bet it’s his power bracelet.

If Sky actually looks a bit paler at Legend’s claim than neither of you notice.

The day passes a little calmer after that, Sky seeming to have calmed down enough to not be so weird and it something you’re quick to forget about.

By the time the afternoon hits, a bunch of dark and foreboding storm clouds roll in.

Somehow, Sky manages to find it in himself to walk next to you again and does his best to stay close.

You don’t mind it and even jokingly pull his sail cloth over your head when it begins to rain on your group. It’s not particularly strong and there’s not a lot of options to rest and take cover, so you bare with it. Sky lets you keep the sail cloth over your head surprisingly.

But then there’s thunder and you see lightning in the distance and bite your lip. “Maybe we should hunker down or something?”

The rain goes from gentle drops to a down pour within seconds and the group runs a bit to gain as much cover as you can in the nearby tree line.

Sky pushes himself in front of you and shoves you behind him with enough force that you’re fully knocked over. In one fluid motion he lifts the Master Sword skyward and charges the blade, tossing it away from the group in a glowing blue arc. It cuts through the grass and even splits the first tree it strikes in half before dissipated into the air. 

You would have been struck by lightning if he didn’t do that.

“Sky?” You get up and try to wipe as much mud off of your pants as you can. “Are you ok? How did you know that would happen?”

Sky gulps and takes a deep breath as he looks at you with wide eyes and understanding. “I saw it in a dream.”

“Oh...” You gasp and reach out to him shakily, putting your hand on his shoulder. “You have dreams then?”

“Yes.” Sky looks at his sword and hesitantly puts it away. “Sometimes.”

“Ok then...” You nod and look around the group. They’re all in varying stages of shock, surprise and concern.

Everyone is looking at Sky.

“We need to get out of the storm.” You say in lieu of changing the topic. ” Who knows if there’s more lightning on the way and there’s a lot of metal within the group.“

“Right.” Time nods and does a not so subtle double take in his attempt to leave it be. “Let’s go.”

You nod back and nod once more to Sky and wrap your arm around his shoulder. you lead him forward and lean into his space to whisper into his ear. “Thanks.”

“I’m just glad I made in time.”

“We’ll talk later ok?” You smile in hopes of alleviating some of the tension. “I have some questions if you’re willing to indulge me.”

“I suppose it’s only fair.”

Warrior

“He’s a cute kid.” Warrior mentions randomly one day. 

You startle and jump, nearly dropping the image. You scramble to catch it and successfully do so after playing hot potato with yourself.

“Warrior, a little warning please.” You sigh and attempt to clean your finger print smudges on the glass. “But yeah, my little brother is cute. I hope he stays that way.”

“I don’t think you have much to worry about.” Warrior shrugs. “He grows up to be a fine and upstanding young man. Good looks run in the family. ”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Thank you, I’m sure they do.”

Warrior comes to stand next to you and gently turns the glass over to see the image better.

“Warrior?”

“Hm?”

“Am I doing the right thing?” You sigh.

“What do you mean? I’d say you are. Sacrificing yourself for the good of a better tomorrow- for your family- for your loved ones- but that’s not what you’re talking about are you?” Warrior lets you take the image back.

“But he’s so young... and I’m supposed to take care of him.” You gulp. “I just want him to be safe and sound and healthy but I can’t really do that from- from... I’m here instead.“

“Well... no said it was going to be easy.” Warrior offers lamely.

“What if he grows up to hate me?” You clench the glass tighter at the thought. “I just abandoned him, didn’t I? Oh my god-”

“Hey. He loves you.” Warrior takes your shoulders in his hands and shakes you somewhat. “He admires you greatly. You’re his hero. He looks up to you even now. He’ll understand when the time comes.”

“Even now?” You sniff. “What does that mean?”

“Years have passed and he hasn’t stopped looking up to you and how you did everything you could for him, for Zelda and he’s trying to make you proud-”

“Warrior he’s five, how do you know this?”

His mouth shuts with a click of his teeth.

“Warrior.” 

“Um... I... He...”

“Link.” You pocket the glass and face him head on. “When did you meet my brother?”

He stares at you for a moment and deflates. “During... during the war of my era.”  

“...What?”

Warrior hisses and brings his hand to scratch the back of his neck. “He showed up around the same time that Wind did but he talked about you.... and I guess you talk to him about me because he wasn’t really surprised at what was happening.”

“How old was he?” You bite your lip, already dreading the news.

“Older than me actually.” He offers with a tight smile. “I never asked him but if I had to guess I would have put him in his mid twenties. The oldest Link to start his adventure compared to the rest of us...”

“But he still...” You deflate as well and hug your arms around yourself. “He still has to go doesn’t he? I can’t save him from it. Even now, I... I can’t- I fail him in the end then.” 

“He doesn’t see it that way at all.” Warrior catches you before you fall to your knees in despair. “He admires everything you’ve done for him, everything you’re currently doing. You kept him from danger for as long as you could- until he was old enough to take on his destiny. That’s more than any of us could say.”

“I don’t want him to go through any of it though.” You sob and lean into Warrior for support. “That’s my baby brother Warrior- how am I supposed to be ok with this?”

“I don’t think there is a way.” He admits. “Nor do I think you should be.”

“I can’t keep him from it.”

“But you can and have been postponing it.” Warrior rubs circles into your shoulder as you cry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you even more.”

“I miss him.”

“You’ll see him again.” Warrior grips you tightly. “He also did very well all things considered. He became an older brother to me and to Sprite and Wind... I don’t think Wind has figured it out yet that your brother and Lucky are the same Link though.”

You sniffle and calm down slightly. “Was he awesome?”

A laugh is startled out of him and he chokes on the snort and cough that tries to leave him at the same time. “I’d say he was better than me... And he claims to have never held a sword until then.”

“Good.” You nod. “He’s the best brother in the whole world.”

“Yeah, he was.”

Four

You’re walking on a random trail as the day dies down and you’re partner is Four for the hour.

The sun rests behind you comfortably and you talk about the different weapons from each others Hyrule. You’re no smith- but you do think it’s an interesting process and try to take notes where you can.

As you trade your notes and laugh at the more ridiculous stories from one another, you look down and notice something weird with Four’s shadow.

It almost looked like it was laughing along too... in the opposite direction that Four was looking in. But you blink and it’s as if it never there.

Maybe you’re tired.

You have been walking all day and perhaps it was a trick of the light.

You don’t think on it too much and go back to talking with your friend.

Hours later-you’d think that it would be the end of it but it isn’t.

In fact, you can’t sleep. And the way it moved was different than it should have been and the more you look into the memory there more obscurities than there should be. Not to mention that Four gets weird around shadows or whenever they are mentioned.

You stare up at the star filled sky as you think about the incident.

“I’m telling you I think they saw me.” A new voice says.

You’re thrust into the moment and attune your hearing to the direction it came from.

“I think you’re thinking too much into it. How could they have seen you?” It’s Four.

You close your eyes and roll over in the same direction, pretending to still be asleep.

The voices take a minute to pick up again when you do that.

They were watching you.

“They stared at me for a solid minute- how did you miss that?” New voices hisses.

“They were laughing-”

“You were laughing, you love sick fool. They looked at me. They saw me. I’m going to blow the secret and you’re not even listening to my warning.”

Your eyes snap open and you push yourself up as quickly as you can.

You instantly spot Four sitting by the fire, but you’re not surprised by that. What really takes your attention is the new person next to him- who looks uncannily like your friend.

But with purple hair...

And red eyes...

And darker skin...

“Four what the hell?” You blurt.

Four responds quickly and as intelligently as he can manage.  “Uhhhh...”

The person next to him curses and runs a hand through his hair. “I told you. I told you. I told you.”

You lock eyes with the new guy and introduce yourself.

He huffs and crosses his arms, his face darkening slightly- or again- maybe it was a trick of the light. “I’m Four’s shadow.”

“His... shadow...?”

“Yes. That’s what I said.”

You nod, wide eyed before turning to Four with a million questions in your eyes. He can see it and holds his hand up to his mouth, pressing his knuckles harshly against his teeth as he waits for them to start flowing out of your mouth.

“Love sick fool?”

“Shadow you snitch!” Four screeches and takes a swing at him.

His cry is loud enough rouse some of the others but only really wakes up two of them. You stare tensely as Time and Legend sit up fast enough to nearly throw themselves into the fire as they turn to Four.

“Sorry.” You whisper yell to save his honor.

Shadow is nowhere to be found.

Time and Legend turn to you as the only other one awake and each raise an eyebrow in tandem.

“Ni-nightmare. I yelled. I’m sorry.” You try to act like you just woke up as well and try to hunker down into your blankets.

Time sighs and wipes his eyes. “You ok?”

“I will be.” You try to smile but you’re too nervous and it comes out more forced than it should- but perhaps that helps you sell your little fib.

Legend for his part glares at you before he sits down with a solid thump and throws himself dramatically back into his bedroll. 

No words are exchanged between you two.

“Everything alright Four?” Time yawns as he also begins to lie down again.

“Yeah. All good here.” Four laugh nervously and waves him away.

Time nods, no longer paying attention and slowly... nearly half an hour later, you see that the two of them have fallen asleep again. Thankfully neither of them seem to realize that it didn’t sound like your voice at all.

Shadow appears again from somewhere and takes his spot next to Four. “Nice going.”

“Shut up.”

“Four, I have questions.” You sit up and make your way over to the two of them.

Shadow raises an eyebrow. “What’s there to explain?”

“Everything?”

“Ok. Ok. Both of you, don’t start. You caught us fair and square. Sit down.” Four sighs and gestures to the other spot next to him. “It’ll take a while.”

“Done.” You grin and nearly run over a sleeping Sky in the process. “Tell me everything.”

Wild

“Has anyone seen Mr. Champion?” You glance up after doing a supply check through your bag. You’re running a little low on rations and know the resident cook usually has some to spare.

But you haven’t seen him in a while.

“Didn’t he go to get fire wood?” Wind tilts his head.

“Wasn’t that at least an hour ago?” You respond, furrowing your eyebrows as you think about it more. Where did Wild go?

“He hasn’t come back yet?” Warrior sits up straighter. Now the rest of the group is a little more aware of their missing member and each start subconsciously checking the tree line as if he were about to come back that very second.

“I can go look for him.” You offer, standing up. “Maybe he got distracted. We are in a new area.”

“Oh great, he could be miles away and we’d never know.” Legend groans and throws his head back. “Just what we needed.”

“Have a little faith Vet.” You snort. With a quick jump and skip over the supplies, you begin to leave the camp behind. “Try calling him Wind, I’ll see if I can go find our missing chef before dinner.”

“Please do.” Time nods. “We’ll start a full search party if you’re not back within the next hour though. It’s getting too dark.”

“Noted.”

“I could find him faster.” You hear Twilight say but you’re already too far away to back down now.

Truthfully, you have no idea where to start- but you imagine that to find Wild- one must think like Wild.

You pick a direction and stick with it.

At some point maybe fifteen minutes in you reach a small creek and begin to follow to stream upwards.

It’s really more like you’re taking a hike than searching for your friend and you begin to feel a little stupid even if realistically there’s no other way for this to be done.

That is- until you see him anyway.

He’s seems to be frozen in place, staring off into the distance with his hands still held mid air, gripping the canteen he appears to have been filling up.

It confuses you and you stand there staring at him to move- to blink- to do something. But he doesn’t. “Wild?”

No response.

“Champion?” You call a little louder and begin to tip toe a little closer to him. You’re afraid that even the slightest snapping of a twig would break whatever spell he’s under and you don’t fancy a violent reaction out the man who can easily blow the whole area up with little to nothing.

But still no response.

“Link!” You hiss and eventually reach his side. He hasn’t once turned in your direction or even acknowledged your presence and you begin to doubt that he’s even conscious.

His eyes are open and he’s knelt beside the creek but maybe he got hit with some magic or something- you don’t know.

You gulp and place a hand on his shoulder. You shake him lightly but when that also proves to not do anything you begin to shake him more and more until you nearly throw him over-but he does not react at all.

“Oh boy... What on earth happened to you?” You bite you lip and begin to look around. He’s too heavy for you to carry on your own and also too far away to yell for help or assistance.

You should have dragged Twilight with you.

Suddenly he takes a deep breath and blinks rapidly, shaking himself back into the present. 

You freeze and tense up considerably as you watch him come back to himself.

Wild stretches and looks up at the sky before standing up. “Twilight’s not going to like this.”

“No. I don’t think so.” You reply.

He freezes as well and looks at you by only shifting his eyes. “How long were you here for?”

“A while...” You admit. “Maybe fifteen minutes. You were gone for over an hour. I got worried.”

“Oh. That’s not so bad then.”

“You ok?” You gulp and slowly drop your shoulders from your ears and unclench your fists.

“Yup. Peachy.”

You nod and continue to lower your guard- not trusting this one bit. “May I ask what that was?”

“Just a memory.” He shrugs and tries to walk past you.

“A memory?” You frown and turn on your heel to follow him. “A memory? I shook you head enough to nearly throw you into the water and you claim it was because of a flashback? I’ve heard of disassociation before but I think this is more like astral projection through dimensions. You were completely gone!”

“It happens from time to time. Nothing to worry about.”

“What if something came up behind you and killed you?” You argue. “I’d say that’s something to worry about. Does this happen often?”

“Everyone once in a while. Maybe once every other month. It depends really. It doesn’t happen as often as it did in the beginning though.” Wild admits and gestures for you to follow him.

You do- but you keep asking him questions.

“So this is normal?”

“For me? Yes.”

“For you?”

“I...” Wild hisses slightly as another thought comes to his mind. “I never told you did I?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about but I’m going to assume that no, you didn’t.”

“I get memories from my old life from time to time when something triggers them. I used to have amnesia but I’ve got most of the my memories back at this point... By now it’s just filling in little blanks.” Wild shrugs. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Oh...” Understanding calms you somewhat. At least it’s not a magic spell or anything. “How did you get amnesia? Do you remember that?”

Wild stops in his tracks and looks at the ground momentarily before looking up again and walking forward. “I died.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“I died.”

“Huh?”

“I. Died.”

“WILD!” You tense up again and follow him without hesitation. “What do you mean you died? Did you heart just stop or were you like blow up or something- Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I’m being super insensitive right now, aren’t I? But I don’t understand! I don’t- Wild- Link- you can’t just drop a bomb like that. Are you like a ghost or something? No. Wait. You can bleed and I’ve seen you crash into more walls and rocks than I care to admit.”

“This isn’t exactly the reaction I was expecting.” Wild frowns and cuts you off. 

“ArE YOu oK?!”

“I’m here aren’t I?”

“But that’s not what I mean- How can that even make sense-”

“Where did you think I got my scars from?” Wild cuts you off once more with a barely restrained snort as he bites his lip.

“Oh my god.”

“I’m fine I promise.”

“Wild nooo....” You whine and Wild thinks for a minute that the information upset you so much that you’re going to cry. “Who did it? I’ll kill them with my bare hands. Who hurt you?”

Wild comes to a full stop again and sighs. Deep and tired but he tilts his head and offers you his hand. “Do you want the short story or the long?”

“Long story please.”

For the first time since this conversation started, Wild smiles even if it’s faint and subtle. “Alright, let’s take the scenic route back. This might take a while.”

Part 2

[honeytae]

if you’re open for regular requests i’d love to request lil scenarios of the boys learning english alongside their english-speaking s/o! this is totally self-indulgent i’m doing the TEFL program and i’m going to south korea next year to teach :)

first of all, that’s amazing omg!! congratulations my love, i hope you have the best time over there and please don’t be shy in sharing your stories with us!!! i tried to stick to the boys actually learning english with their s/o but i strayed from that with a few members just bc i ran out of ideas lol but i hope you still enjoy!

fair warning....i’ve never ~seriously~ tried to learn korean, so i’m not entirely certain of the parallels between korean and english. i just hope these are wholesome enough to override that lmao

namjoon:

“You know,” Namjoon looked up from his phone, “I understand expanding your vocabulary, but why are there so many weird slang words?”

“Kids these days?” You shrugged, the man chuckling in response before flipping his phone around to show you what had puzzled him.

“If something slaps, that’s...good?” He wondered, watching as you suppressed a smile at the tweet he was showing you.

You could tell by the profile picture that the user was an ARMY, one of the many fan profiles on the platform, and the tweet was written completely in English.

Although there was a ‘Translate to Korean’ option readily available with just a tap of his thumb, you knew Namjoon never missed an opportunity to challenge himself to be able to fully comprehend what a native English speaker was trying to say.

You nearly snorted at the tweet’s content, smiling as you read it out loud.

“The Dis-ease bridge just saved my life. Seriously, this song slaps.”

Glancing at Namjoon, he raised his eyebrows, eagerly waiting for you to translate and explain what that could equate to in Korean.

“It’s definitely a good thing, Joon. They love it.”

At your interpretation, Namjoon grinned, nodding to himself as he pulled his phone back in front of his face to scroll through more reaction tweets to the new album release.

seokjin:

“What the hell is that?”

You picked your head up from your sketchbook when you heard Seokjin whine from beside you, eyebrows knitting together at his distressed tone. Taking a glance over at his laptop screen, you found his mouse bouncing from letter to letter on one of his weekly english lessons.

“What is that, like 15 letters? How do you even use that in a sentence?” He went on, obviously flustered by the word on the screen.

Pulchritudinous.

You placed your hand over his to stop his panicked counting of the letters, causing him to look over at you with a sigh as he frowned.

You nearly giggled at his reaction, but the genuine fear in his eyes made you stifle it as you soothingly held his hands in yours. 

“It’s just an over complicated way of saying beautiful. I don’t know why they’re teaching you that, nobody ever uses it.” You assured him, his eyes going down in size a bit at your words before he nodded.

Watching as a smirk tilted his lips, you raised your brows at the sudden expression.

“What?”

“Well like, I could say I’m...that?” He said, eyebrows raised cockily as he gestured to the long word stretched across the screen.

“Well it’s actually not used like,” you paused, giving in with a shrug as you grinned back at him.

“Sure, love.”

yoongi:

“Why did I skip English class all the time?” Yoongi sighed, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers as he plucked at the skin in frustration.

“Because you were trying to be a rebel.” You answered without looking up from your phone, the man obviously not liking your answer as he reached over to where you were laying beside him to pinch at your hip.

Yelping, you scooted across the mattress to get away from his hand, whining his name with a scoff before looking over at his notepad.

“What are you doing, anyway?” You asked, leaning on your palm as you scanned the rows of scribbled English letters written on the page.

“I’m trying to get better at writing.” He admitted shyly, a small grin on his face to match the fond one on your own. 

“Aw,” you pouted, Yoongi raising his eyebrows at your tone, “but I like your chicken scratch.”

“You’re such a brat.” He chuckled, adjusting the velcro on his brace with a grunt.

Since Yoongi’s shoulder surgery took away obvious straining activities like dancing and performing, he’d turned to studying English from the comfort of your bed during his recovery as one of the only safe activities he could partake in for a while.

It was now one of his favorite past times, learning new words and phrases he could potentially use in the future. It worked for you both because it took his mind off the pain and kept him motivated, and since you could speak both his and your language, you could help him out whenever he got stuck on something.

Usually he did lessons verbally on his phone, but it seemed today he had taken the old fashioned route.

“Your handwriting really isn’t bad, Yoongs.” You observed, the carefully placed tails at the end of each ‘a’ making you smile out of fondness for the man.

“My man has the prettiest handwriting.” You cooed, pushing a strand of his stark black hair out of his eyes as he blushed down at his notebook.

“Stop that.”

hoseok:

“Hey, babe?” Hoseok called for you, listening to your footsteps growing closer before you popped your head into the kitchen doorway.

“Yeah?”

“I’m having a little trouble.” He gestured to his open laptop on the counter, you recognizing it as an assignment from his English course.

“What happened?”

“Pronouns. Pronouns happened.” He pouted, his disdain for the new chapter quite obvious as he stared down his computer screen.

“What about them?” You asked, stepping closer to the man sitting at the kitchen island and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I need to make ten sentences using proper pronouns and I feel like I’m doing it all wrong.” He explained, causing you to hum as you looked over his sentences.

“These look great, Hobi.” You smiled as you glanced over the first three he’d written, flawlessly executed on the document.

“Can you help me with the next one?” He wondered, you nodding your head as you took a seat on the stool next to his.

“What do you want the next one to say?” You asked, watching as he glanced off to the side in thought, slightly squinting his eyes at the tile floor beneath the sink.

“My house is next to,” He spoke in English, pausing as he searched his brain for what pronoun to put next.

“Theys?” He answered as more of a question, then shaking his head as he switched back to Korean, “wait, no.” He sighed, placing his chin in his hand in thought before glancing over to you.

“I know it’s wrong, I just don’t know what the right answer is instead.” He explained, you shooting him a loving smile as you pushed the dark raven hair off his forehead and pressed a kiss to the newly revealed skin.

“I’ll help you, Sunshine. No worries.”

jimin:

Flopping onto the bed, you let your tired body fall on top of Jimin’s hoodie clad chest, his arm encircling your body as he mumbled a soft greeting to you.

“Hm, what are you learning about today?” You nuzzled into his chest, peering at his phone propped up on his thigh.

“Animals. Birds, mostly.” He answered, briefly turning from the screen to press a kiss to your head before focusing back on the row of English words matched with pictures of popular birds glowing from the device.

The first was a robin, the next a blue jay, and then a dove.

You listened as the virtual instructor prompted Jimin to repeat after her, spelling out the letters before stating the whole word. You smiled as your boyfriend followed instruction, pronouncing the words the best he could after the microphone chimed for him to do so.

“D-o-v-e. Dove.”

“Dove.” He repeated, smiling to himself as the app announced he got the point with a little heart.

“That’s cute.” He went back to his native language, you humming in confusion as you lifted your head up off his chest to look at him.

“The heart?” You asked, reaching up to twist a stray strand of hair out of his eye as he shook his head.

“Dove.” He said again, making you tilt your head, not knowing what he meant.

“It sounds like ‘love.’” He connected the two English words, you smiling fondly at him in response before scooting up the bed to kiss the tip of his button nose.

“You’re so cute.”

taehyung:

Three knocks at the door announced someone’s arrival to your bedroom, causing your head to lift from the novel you’d been so immersed in. Taehyung was home, but you’d wanted to give him space because you knew he needed to work on lyrics for his mixtape in order to submit them on time. 

“Hey,” he poked his head in with a small smile, “can you help me with something?” He asked sheepishly, stepping further into the room when you nodded.

“Of course. What is it?” You set your book down, marking your place before closing it to pay full attention to your boyfriend.

“Well, I’m trying to write this verse in English and,” he trailed off with a shrug, “you know.” He finished, you nodding in response with a gesture for him to come sit next to you.

He eagerly walked over to you with his notebook in hand, lowering himself to the mattress before rolling his way over to where you were leaning against the headboard.

Honestly, Taehyung’s English wasn’t bad at all. He was insecure about it, but you’d never really understood what the reason for that feeling was. His vocabulary was more than decent, his comprehension was good, and his pronunciation was great for having such a thick accent.

But there were many times where Taehyung came to you for guidance, as you were a native English speaker yourself.

And so, as he rested his head on your shoulder confiding in you about everything he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it, you patiently took him through what would work and rhyme best, smiling as he hummed the melody to himself to see if the phrases would work in his creation.

jungkook:

“Baby, can you read it to me again before we go on? Just one more time.”

You glanced over at your boyfriend in his makeup chair, several employees bustling around the man as they attempted to get him ready to go on stage while they had him seated.

With his arm extended backward to where you stood behind his leather chair, he offered his phone to you while shooting you a grin through the reflection in the mirror.

Taking the device from his hand, you opened it to the notes app where he’d written what he wanted to say in his statement on stage in just a few minutes.

You were in London tonight, which meant that all of the boys had been rehearsing their English so that they could communicate easier with their audience.

Jungkook, ever the over-achiever, was determined to do the toughest English tongue twister he could possibly find. Not only that, but in a British accent for his British ARMY’s.

“Betty bought a bit of better butter to make her bitter butter better.” You read from the phone, barely able to read the sentence yourself before you glanced up at Jungkook through the mirror again.

You watched your boyfriend nod as his brain took in the words you’d just said, taking a deep inhale before he began speaking the phrase back to you.

You gawked as the man effortlessly repeated after you, a few of the makeup artists stopping as well as Jungkook raised his eyebrows back at you.

“Was that okay?”

[therainroguefanfiction]

🐇 Easter Bunnies (Masaharu Niou)

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Comedy, Easter 

Word Count: 1,054 

Pairing: Reader x Niou 

World: Prince of Tennis

Table of Contents

━━━━━━༻🐇༺━━━━━━

Your eyes sparkled as you stared at the bunny rabbits hopping around in their cages. It was a pet shot that specialized in small, furry animals – rabbits, hamsters, chinchillas, and other small critters. It was easily your biggest weakness. They’re just so cute and adorable, you want to bring them all into your arms and hug them.

Niou followed you quietly as you walked around the shop, looking for the ‘perfect’ rabbit – Atobe had made it quite clear that it needed to be the perfect one for the Easter festival, whatever that meant.

You glanced to the right and froze, meeting the eyes of a rather large rabbit with bright blue eyes. His fur was black and white, striped like a tiger’s fur. You had never seen such a beautiful creature in your life. You approached his cage, never losing eye contact. He seemed to… speak to you and you knew instantly that you had to have him.

Arms wrapped around your waist, Niou resting his chin on your shoulder as he looked at the rabbit curiously. “Never seen a rabbit like that before.”

“I know. Isn’t he gorgeous?!”

Niou smirked at your excitement. “You want this one, then?”

You nodded furiously, looking up at him with pleading eyes. Yukimura had entrusted both of you to find Atobe’s perfect rabbit for his festival, which meant that Niou had to agree, as well, before it could be bought.

“Hmm~ I dunno. I think we can find a better one.”

“Please, Niou!”

“Convince me.” His smirk grew, turning you around to face him.

You quickly caught on to the implication and smiled, grabbing his tie to pull him down to your level. Your lips crashed against one another, moving in perfect synch as if they had danced it a thousand times before. You pressed your body against his, tugging lightly on his bottom lip as you pulled away from the kiss.

“Pretty please, Niou-kun~?”

He pecked your lips, his smirk turning into a smile as he nodded. “Puri~”

“Yes!” You threw your fist into the air in victory as he approached the shopkeeper, informing the older man of your decision. Atobe had called ahead and authorized the payment to be billed to his card, so all you had to do was choose the items needed for the rabbit. “Hmm, a metal cage is probably best. If you eat the plastic, you’ll get sick.”

The rabbit, who you decided to name Tora due to its markings, cocked his head to the side at your words. You nearly squealed at how cute he looked.

Niou returned, grabbing your hand and threading his fingers with yours. “The shopkeeper said to let him know once we’ve picked everything out.”

“We should pick a cage first.” You dragged him to the other end of the shop where the cages were boxed and neatly stacked on shelves. “It needs to be metal.”

“What about this?” He pointed to the very first one his eyes found and you scowled.

“That’s way too small!”

He rubbed his chin in thought. “He’s gonna be staying with Atobe, right? So why not get him a castle?”

“I don’t think they make – ” your words died off when you followed his finger. Sure enough, a box nearly the same height as the room stood towering over the other boxes. A brilliant castle made of sterling silver decorated the box. According to the list of features, it even came with its own mote around the castle complete with a drawbridge. Your eye twitched as you stared at it. “That seems… a bit excessive…”

“Well, it is for Atobe and he is paying.”

“Yeah, but – ”

“Don’t you want little rabbit-chan to have the very best?” He grinned when you froze, knowing he had won. This was going to be great.

“You’re right! Our child needs the best we can provide!” You nodded with determination.

“Our child? When did that happen?” He raised a brow. “And we’re not technically the ones providing.”

You ignored him, already approaching the shopkeeper to let him know which cage you wanted. Niou sweatdropped as the man asked over and over if you were sure. It was hella expensive and he knew it wasn’t your money that was buying said expensive item. You scowled at him after he asked for the fifth time, slamming your hand on the counter.

“Atobe-san trusted us enough to come and pick out these items, did he not? Don’t question our decisions!”

The shopkeep quickly apologized and began adding up everything you wanted. Niou snickered at your attitude as you rushed back and forth, picking up rabbit food and toys and anything else that caught your eye. He leaned against you when you finished, waiting for the man to finish ringing up the items.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit too much?” He questioned, watching the pile of toys and treats steadily grow as they were rung up.

“Of course not! Like you said, the best for our baby.”

“It’s a rabbit…”

You scowled at him and he shrugged, pecking your cheek. You were so cute, he didn’t really mind you claiming the rabbit as your shared child. It’d be true one day, anyway.

Little did he know, Niou was the one forced to put the cage together. Never had he regretted his choices more than he did at that moment. He felt like walking away several times, Atobe could easily hire someone to do it, but every time he looked over at you, his will wavered. You had decided to help him, despite him telling you it wasn’t necessary, but you were just as floored and overwhelmed as he was.

You were frowning down at the instructions, your brow furrowed in concentration. You couldn’t make heads nor tails of the damn thing.

Niou chuckled, breaking your concentration. “You’re so cute when you’re frustrated,”

“Shut up.” You muttered, feeling your cheeks burn.

With new resolve, he pecked your cheek before returning to work. It took both of you nearly six hours to piece the cage together. All of the frustration was worth it in the end as you both viewed the masterpiece.

“I kinda wanna live there,” Niou commented.

“It’s bigger than my bedroom. And my living room… I’ve never been so jealous of a rabbit before…”

“Puri~”

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[peaceisadirtyword]

Move On IX (Modern!Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello!♥️ I finished this yesterday but I needed some time to edit it calmly, so I waited until today! I have to say, do you know when you plan an entire fanfic around a scene? Like you imagine a scene but need context, so you end up writing an entire series? This is what happened to me with the last scene of this chapter. I didn’t even know how to write it, and it ended up being much worse than I thought it would be. Anyway, there’s just one chapter left (will probably be ready for next week, bc I finished the internship and I have a bit more time now!) For now, enjoy this one🥰 

Btw! I made a spotify playlist with songs that give me ‘Move On’ vibes, feel free to listen to it and if you have a song that reminds you of it tell me and I will add it!💕

Warnings: angst, like a lot of angst, this is the most angsty thing I’ve ever written, drama bc I’m a dramatic person, a bit of fluff, mentions of anxiety, broken hearts... Angst. Also, Ivar may be a bit out of character (?) sorry :(

Words: 4074

Move On Masterlist

Move On Playlist

gif belongs to @beastologist​

The worst part of going out to the bar with your friends was that they were always surrounded by boys. You weren't that much into one night stands, so you tended to stay next to the bar or go dance by yourself and maybe make new friends as your friends flirted. That night wasn't different. You had barely drank two beers when one of your friends started glancing behind you and biting her lip. 

"Okay, I'm seeing the hottest guys ever right there" she muttered as soon as the conversation died. You were thankful that she didn't interrupt you, at least "Oh my god, they look like nordic Gods"

You raised an eyebrow with curiosity, but didn't turn around. Your other friends quickly checked them out and the giggles and whispers started. You wished you could join them, and gossip about hot guys in bars, but you just couldn't, and every time you tried it ended up being a disaster. 

"They're looking" one of them smirked "I knew it, this dress always works" 

You chuckled, shaking your head but low-key proud as you had been the one choosing her outfit and makeup. They were stunning, and you could understand that every guy in that bar had checked them out at least once, it made you proud to have pretty friends. So you kind of expected it when they started muttering that the guys were approaching. 

They hadn't lied, those boys were truly handsome, and even you widened your eyes and your mouth parted. You couldn't help but smile kindly at them when they greeted all of you. 

"I'm Ubbe" one of them, that had the brightest blue eyes you had ever seen "These are my brothers, Hvitserk and Sigurd" he pointed at the other two, both blonde. One of them, the first one to caught your eye, had dirty blonde hair and green eyes, while the other one had blue eyes but more pale than his brother. You didn't get to stare at them as much as you would have liked to, as you friends introduced themselves. 

"And she's Y/N" one of them pointed at you, and when the three pairs of eyes set on you, you had to clear your throat and look away quickly. 

"It's truly a pleasure to meet all of you" the green-eyed one, with a flirtatious tone, bowed his head slowly with a smirk on his lips "We realized you ran out of drinks" he raised an eyebrow "And we can't allow that, now can we?" 

He was good, one of your friends giggled and his smirk widened. 

"Yeah, we'd like to invite you to some drinks" Ubbe winked at other one of your friends, who nodded slowly.

"Okay, so next round is on you" she shot him a flirtatious smile and before you could react, they were already coupled up and flirting shamelessly. You finished your drink and looked around, a bit bored. 

"Is your friend not going to join us?"

You raised your head. So there were four of them. Well, maybe you would have someone to drink shots with. 

"Ivar is not much into meeting new people" Hvitserk chuckled "He doesn't like people" 

"He's cute" your friend hit your shoulder "Y/N, go talk to him" 

You knew they meant well, and they wanted you to have fun the same way they were having fun, so you rolled your eyes playfully and turned around to see him. 

You expected to see a handsome guy, if he was half as hot as the ones now sitting on your table, he'd be very hot. But you stopped breathing and nearly choked with your drink when you saw him. 

He was probably the most beautiful person you had ever seen. He was beautiful. He looked bored, his finger scrolled down his phone and sometimes his eyes wandered around the room with a scowl on his face. But if he looked like that scowling, you couldn't imagine how he'd look with a smile. 

You realized you had been staring, and cleared your throat as you turned back to your friends. The three brothers were staring at you, and Ubbe and Hvitserk smirked at each other. 

"Um... I wouldn't want to bother him" you shrugged, trying to gain some composure. 

"You wouldn't" Hvitserk raised an eyebrow "Ivar doesn't like people but, he might like a cute girl talking to him" 

"Don't listen to him" the other blonde one, Sigurd, rolled his eyes "He's an asshole, don't even bother" 

"Sigurd" Ubbe sighed, but decided to ignore them and went back to talking to your friend.

Hvitserk glared at his brother and shook his head. 

"I mean, you don't have to flirt with him or anything, I just thought the both of you would like some company" he smiled kindly at you "And I think you'd get along" 

You nodded slowly and he looked back to your friend, who winked at you with a smirk. When you finished your drink, you looked at him again. This time he caught you, and you turned around quickly with widened eyes and your heart racing. After the round of shots Ubbe bought, you stood up. 

Ivar was confused. He had seen you entering the bar with your friends, laughing at something someone said at the door. Then you ordered your drink with a smile and narrowed your eyes while looking for an empty table. When you finally found one, you quickly took your friends there. Now he couldn't see your face, but he kept glancing at you sometimes. He went out with his brothers frequently, and yes, he  looked at girls like they did, but when they'd stand up to go and actually talk to the girls, Ivar would always stay behind. He truly didn't need the pity stares or the smiles full of compassion, he also didn't want to see how they rejected him with a polite smile after they saw his crutches. No one wanted to hook up with the guy with crutches, but they were too nice and too polite to say it in front of him and his brothers. 

You looked beautiful, he noticed you as soon as you entered, and you had a different vibe, but he didn't even dare to think about you too much, not even when his brothers started whispering about that group of cute girls. 

"I also like that one" Hvitserk had said, pointing at you discreetly "But Ivar saw her first, and he had heart eyes while looking at her, so..." He shrugged. 

Ivar was startled by that, and turned to glare at his brother.

"I noticed too" Ubbe chuckled "Come on, let's talk to them, she looks nice" 

Ivar shrugged and looked down, ignoring them. 

"He won't do it" Sigurd raised an eyebrow "And he'd panic if she talks to him"

He had a point, Ivar did panic when he saw you approaching him. At first he thought you were going to the bar, then you looked at him and he gulped. He didn't have any more beer to calm him down, and he felt his heart racing. 

"Hi" you smiled at him, a bit flustered "Can I?" 

You pointed to the chair in front of him, the one Hvitserk had occupied before. Ivar stared at the chair for a couple of seconds before nodding slowly. 

You sat down, a bit taken aback by his silence. 

"I'm Y/N" 

He cleared his throat and finally found the courage to look at your eyes. 

"Ivar" 

"I... They went to flirt with my friends and I thought I'd come here with you because it's..." you wrinkled your nose and he nearly smiled "A bit awkward" 

Ivar nodded slowly. 

"That's okay" 

That's okay? What the fuck?, he thought. 

"Anyway, um... Do you want a beer?" 

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" he raised an eyebrow and his voice startled you. It had a musical tone, not too deep but not that high either. It was oddly attractive. 

"Well, I was going to invite you, but if that's affecting your masculinity, I will let you pay" you chuckled. 

Ivar looked amused. 

"It's because that always works for my brothers" he shrugged. 

Your heart raced when you realized what he meant. You still couldn't believe that a guy like that would even look at you, but you weren't going to complain. 

"Okay then, maybe I could pay next time"

You nearly regretted that, you had talked to him for barely two minutes and you were already talking about a second date. 

He probably thinks I'm desperate...

"Maybe" 

From up close, you could appreciate just how blue his eyes were. They reminded you of Ubbe's eyes, but Ivar's were less warm, deep, intense and overwhelming as the ocean, framed by dark eyelashes that completed a mysterious stare that made you shiver. His lips were full and pouty, and you nearly widened your eyes when he licked his bottom lip nervously. You realized you had been staring and it was probably not very nice to feel observed in that way. 

"Um... So they're your brothers?" you glanced to the other table, where your friends and their new companions laughed loudly. 

"Yes, I'm the youngest" he nodded "We have another brother but he's older, he has a family and those things" 

Their parents must be proud of what they made, you thought. If everyone in that family had those looks, you were probably meeting the people with the best genes in the world. 

"That's nice" you smiled "They seem fun"

Ivar grimaced. 

"They're fun for the first ten minutes, then they're annoying as fuck" he rolled his eyes, and you couldn't help but laugh. Ivar had never made a girl laugh, and he widened his eyes, surprised by the warm feeling that spread in his chest. 

Suddenly, your eyes found the crutches. Ivar tensed up and watched you as you stared at them confused. 

"What happened?" You looked at his face again, and immediately felt terrible. What if he didn't want to talk about it? Why did you have to ask? 

"It's a disease" suddenly, his tone was a bit more dry "I was born with it, I need braces and crutches to walk" 

You nodded slowly. 

"Sorry for asking" you bit your lip. 

"It's fine" he shrugged "As long as it doesn't bother you"

You narrowed your eyes softly. 

"Why would it bother me?" you smiled "I still wanna get that drink"

Ivar was equally surprised and relieved when you stood up to approach the bar, turning to wink at him with a smile. 

________________________________

Your face was covered on makeup and dried tears. You felt your lips dry and your eyes hurt from crying. It was cold, even if Ivar's warm body was pressed against yours. He was asleep, the medicines always left him exhausted, and he would sleep soundly for hours. You wanted to turn around and hug him so bad... To hide your face into his neck and breathe, relax next to his body like you did for years. It was your safe place, but now it didn't feel right. 

You turned your head to look at him. Ivar looked so calm and peaceful that your fingers ached to touch him, but at the same time it was even more painful than before. You had been weak, and sleeping with him would only hurt you both, because maybe the both of you thought things were just like before, but they weren't. 

You couldn't forget the pain, the disappointment and the rejection. Ivar had chosen someone else over you and that changed everything, and you were tired of being the weak girl that cried and mourned constantly because of him. 

It was still dark outside, but you could feel the dawn was near, as there was that chill in the air that precedes sunrise. But you couldn't sleep, you laid there the entire night, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember how his touch felt, how warm his lips were, because you were making a decision. 

You closed your eyes. They burnt and yearned for some sleep, but you wouldn't let yourself sleep next to him, not anymore. 

You could wait until he woke up, or leave before without a warning. Either way would end up in disaster, because you knew Ivar wouldn't let you go without an explanation, and you couldn't look at him in the eye and leave him, you weren't strong enough. 

You opened your eyes again, and glanced at him, leaning in to kiss his forehead softly. Ivar sighed deeply in his sleep, and snuggled closer to you. The pain seemed to have stopped, but you thought you'd leave some painkillers next to his bed before leaving. 

Years later, you still felt that tickling in your belly whenever you looked at him, just like the first time. Who would have told you that the strange at the bar, who sat alone and glaring at everyone, would become the center of your world? You remembered those first days, the shy kisses and nervous touches, how he hesitated whenever he leant to kiss you. His brothers' teasing, his small smiles and how he blushed when you said how good he looked. How he looked at you, how time would stop when the two of you were together. The weight of those nearly five years overcame you, and you let the tears fall once again. You loved him so much it physically hurt, and now you were sure he had loved you too, at least at some point, but now things were over. He made a choice, and he ruined it. Maybe you were also to blame, thinking that what you had with Ivar was strong enough to last forever, and that no one could ever break that. Maybe you should have taken care of him, made him feel special, like she did. 

Moving slowly, careful not to wake him up, you got out of the bed, shivering when you left the warm covers and walked around the room, picking your underwear and your dress and getting dressed as quickly as you could. Then you opened the door slowly and left the room, looking for your shoes and purse, which you left in the living room. The only time you went back to Ivar's room was to leave the pills on the nightstand next to a glass of water and caress his hair softly for the last time. Then, you left again, closing the door softly and swallowing your tears and the lump on your throat. 

You looked around the kitchen and living room. It felt so cold and empty now, and the silence was louder than Ivar and Hvitserk's laugh. You had lost the count of how many hours you spent in that living room, laughing with the brothers, whom you considered your family, eating, watching tv, cuddling with Ivar, having sex and then apologizing to Hvitserk for having sex on the couch, and then baking his favorite cookies to make him forgive you. Their presence lightened up the room, and standing there without any of them made you realize just how hard was going to be living without them. 

But you couldn't just leave without a word. It wouldn't be fair. You intended to call Hvitserk, but Ivar... Maybe it would be the last time you saw Ivar. The mere thought was enough to make you sob again, covering your mouth. 

You grabbed a small notebook and a pen from the small wooden table of the living room. It was a notebook you bought for them, to make them write down the phone numbers and the important things, even if they only used it to draw stupid things when they were bored. 

You wrote slowly, carefully, drying your tears when they didn't let you see. When you finished, you felt even more heartbroken, but also a bit more relieved. Maybe you couldn't look at him and say it, but it was easier to write it, and that's what you had done. 

You didn't bother to put the heels on and grabbed the shoes and the purse before leaving the flat, not daring to look back. 

_________________________________________

The taxi stopped next to your door. You managed to mutter a weak 'thank you' before stepping out of the car. The driver looked worried, but he just nodded and said goodbye. As you approached the door, you noticed a figure sitting next to it, your heart skipped a beat and you smiled widely when you recognized Hvitserk. He was still dressed on his suit, and his lips curved softly when he saw you, but it faded soon. The sun was starting to rise and he looked like an angel with the rose light hitting his honey colored hair and his playful green eyes, that now looked exhausted and worried. He looked like an angel, and he had been your angel for the past few months. Your smile turned into a grimace as you approached him, and when Hvitserk finally wrapped his arms around you, you let the tears fall again. 

"I knew it wasn't a good idea" he muttered, his voice husky and deep. 

You let yourself sob for a few minutes. 

"It was" 

"Did the two get to talk?" 

"Not much" you nearly smiled "But I got to say what I needed to say" 

"Good" he nodded "It will stop" 

You nodded. The pain wouldn't last forever, at least not the intense pain that didn't let you breathe. Someday you would be able to think about your relationship and feel that warmth again. You just needed some time. 

"Let's go" he whispered "I'll cook breakfast" 

__________________________________

Ivar had a bad feeling when he woke up. He forgot to draw the curtains, and the sunlight that entered the room made him open his eyes. The first thing he noticed was that your side of the bed was cold. The second was that it was cold and his legs were starting to hurt. Skipping his treatment would take its toll on him for days. He touched the part of the bed in which you laid after making love, looking at him with teary eyes and a dreamy smile. He pouted and looked away before the tears could reach his eyes. 

You had left his medicines next to the bed. Ivar nearly smiled, of course you would do something like that. Maybe he'd get up and go to the kitchen and you would be there, making coffee and trying to cook with the few things you could find in the fridge. Maybe you had put the earphones on and were listening to your favourite playlist as you danced around the kitchen. Maybe your face would lighten up when you saw him again. 

The pills were easier to swallow than the lump on his throat. He took his time, too scared to leave the room and not find you out there. He should have hold you tighter. 

Ivar put the sweatpants and a shirt on, and then the braces. His legs protested when he stood up, but he ignored them and walked slowly to the door. 

The flat was empty. Your shoes and purse were gone. Ivar's lower lip trembled and he stood there for a couple of minutes. Maybe you'd be back soon. Maybe you went to get breakfast. 

The weight of your absence washed over him for the first time. Freydis was gone, and now you had gone too. For months, he hadn't been with you but he knew you were there, that if he called you'd come, you'd be back to him and everything would be okay. Freydis made him feel so many things at the same time, but there was something missing, something that didn't fit. He did feel special, blessed by the Gods and important. And he did love Freydis, a lot, but then he saw you again. It would have been easier if you hated him, if you insulted and yelled at him, but you didn't. He had understood that during the wedding, that the only thing that he missed was you, he missed your relationship and how normal he felt with you. 

After years being rejected by everyone and overprotected by his mother, you came and treated him exactly as you would treat anyone else. And you made every single problem and struggle so easy Ivar couldn't help but fall in love with you. And it was a different kind of love, a different kind of relationship that he never thought he'd had. 

Freydis had been an intense crush, the first woman he truly looked at since you approached him that night at the bar. Of course he saw beautiful women every day, but it wasn't just your looks, it was something else. That thing he thought he had seen in Freydis too. 

His eyes saw the notebook on the kitchen counter. And he clenched his jaw trying to hold the tears back as he approached. When he recognized your handwriting his world collapsed again. You were truly gone. 

Ivar

He couldn't help the tears that fell down his cheeks. 

I know I can't tell you this in person, I wish I could. You're the most important person in my life, I love you, but I need to leave. Last night was amazing, and it was real, but then it ended and it stopped being real, right? Do you feel it too? It's not the same now. 

He rubbed his face, shaking his head as the tears rolled down uncontrollably. He did feel it too, as soon as he woke up. 

I don't know if you care, but I forgive you. I just need to leave because it hurt too much. I could stay and pretend everything would be okay, but it wouldn't be fair for neither of us. This is not good for anyone. Maybe someday, but not now. I don't regret anything, and I would approach and talk to you in that bar again without a doubt, because you made me really happy for years, and I hope I made you happy too, at least a bit. I don't know if we will ever see each other again, but if we don't, I hope you're happy and find that person, whether it is Freydis or someone else. I wish it was me, trust me, I wish it was me with my whole heart. But I need to end this now.

I truly love you, I always will. 

P.S. Please, take your medicines.

The last phrase should have made him roll his eyes, but instead it broke his heart a bit more. He threw the paper away, and barely managed to reach one of the kitchen stools before he collapsed, letting the crutch fall to the floor. He thought he'd stop breathing when the pain intensified. This was a kind of pain he didn't know. He had known sadness, rejection, disappointment and physical pain, but never this. You had entered his life and you stayed through everything, you were the only one that stayed out of love, and not because he was your family. And he had pushed you out. He pushed you and everyone that cared away because he was obsessed with a girl. Now you were gone and his brother didn't even want to be in the same room with him anymore. He was alone, and this wasn't something his mother could fix. 

Ivar heard the door opening. Hvitserk hesitated a couple of seconds when he saw him, but he sighed and closed the door. His brother didn't raise his head to look at him, and even if he wasn't too happy with Ivar, he couldn't help but approach him. He saw his little brother heartbroken, not the insufferable idiot with whom he had lived for the past few months. 

He didn't expect Ivar to hug him tightly, sobbing into his chest. He recognized that pain because he had spent the last couple of hours drying the same tears from your face. 

"Ivar" he sighed. 

"What did I do?" he took a deep breath "Why?" 

"You were a selfish, self-centered asshole" Hvitserk shook his head "But you will learn, you will grow" 

If Ivar was offended, he didn't say it. 

"She left me" 

"I know" he muttered "She's leaving all of us"

_________________________________________

Tags: @mblaqgi @alicedopey @lol-haha-joke @hallowed-heathen @naaladareia @tephi101 @captstefanbrandt @love-hate-love @titty-teetee @readsalot73 @moondustmemories @therealcalicali @blushingskywalker @awkwardfangirl02 @gruffle1 @justacripple @love-dria @heartbeats-wildly @letsrunawaytotomorrow @inforapound @sallydelys @hellogabysblog @winchesterwife27 @hecohansen31 @youbloodymadgenius @xinyourdreamsx @funmadnessandbadassvikings @eteramfools @tgrrose @lifeisabitchandsoareyou​ @lovessce​ @tootie-fruity @didiintheblog @alexhandersenx @belovedcherry @fantasydevil2002 @xceafh​ @astrape-the-weatherwitch​ @destynelseclipsa​ @poisonous00​ @littlebear423​ @justbloodlydreaming @xbellaxcarolinax​ @soleil-dor​ @geekydane-post​ @katarokkar11 @crackhead1-800​ @momowhoo​ @pedrolorian @flokisdaughter​ @crazybunnyladysworld​ @anotherfan07​ @heavenly1927​ @jungkxxkk​ @satanhalsey​ @nanahachikyuu​ @cocovikings23​ @ecarroll1978​ @darlingjae @buendiaremedios-blog​ @mcrmarvelloki​ @grimeundglow​ @punkrocknpearls​ 

[kaylawritesfics]

Marvel: Fic Rec 1

A collection of marvel fics that I’ve recently read that I thought were really good!

march 28, 2021

| Avengers |

@ijustwant2write : That’s Just Wrong (Avengers x lesbian!reader)

‘coming out to the avengers as a lesbian who likes pineapple on pizza and they’re super taken back - not cos ur a lesbian but cos of ur pizza taste’

this one is a super cute coming out story i loved it so much

| Bucky Barnes |

@moteldwelling : good girl (bucky x fem!reader)

bucky and reader turn eachother on with pet names, and smut ensues. dirty talk, couch sex, praise kink. this sort of turned into dom!bucky idk it just happened LOL

@crispychrissy : Healing (1940s!bucky x nurse!reader)

Tasked with examining the injured soldiers that were liberated from the Hydra factory, one sergeant in particular gives you a run for your money.

this one is one of my favorites

@tuiccim : Almost Had Me Believing It (Series Masterlist) (bucky x reader)

An undercover operation playing Bucky Barnes’ wife is a dream come true. Playing house in the suburbs while trying to take down a drug ring brings you and Bucky closer but a nosy neighbor causes trouble in paradise.

this is one of my all time favorite bucky series

@imaginexmeintheuniverse : Dog Tags (bucky x reader)

For your Christmas drabbles, could you write Bucky gifting the reader his old dog tags?

@pinkettepoet : In Which She Knows That They Don’t Know (bucky x reader) (avengers x reader) part 2

could you write a buckyxreader/avengersxreader where they like all forget her bday bc there’s just been a lot of stuff going on so even though she’s kinda upset about it she doesn’t blame them and something happens and they all realize what day it is and they go all out to throw her a party and it’s just really fluffy and happy avengers family? Sorry it’s kinda long!

| Loki Laufeyson |

@angelkurenai : One Moment (Loki x reader)

You have found a way to undo the damage Thanos did and bring everyone you lost back, all of your loved ones or at least most of them. As you travel back in 2012, however, you run into someone who is far too familiar. Unable to let go, even after all these years, of the death of the man - or basically god - you loved so much you forget all about the mision and decide to have one more moment with the one who sacrificed his life to save yours out of love.

@beskar-tano : Just A Taste (Loki x reader)

On a brisk walk through Central Park, Loki tries earth’s hot chocolate for the very first time.

@obscure-imagines : Loki x Valkyrie!Reader

imagine: being a Valkyrie that Loki was always in love with and when you show up in Sakaar he’s really excited to see you again

loki fangirling over the valkyrie reader is my aesthetic

@gingerwritess : Loki x reader

I’ve got a question I’d love for you to answer, because I simply adore your characterization of Loki. What sort of nicknames do you think he’d call his s/o? Both the lovey-dovey ones and the playful mean ones

this is so soft i love it

@too-attached-to-fiction : A Night In The Gardens (Loki x reader)

#2: “It’s nearly midnight, what are you doing?”

@justeclipseblogs : Complicated (2012!loki x goddess!reader)

Based on Avengers (2012), where instead of Thor going after Loki - it’s Thor and his friend, Reader, who happens to be Loki’s… well, it’s complicated.

this is one of my favorite loki fics and i would love to see a part 2 to it

@yourfavouriterival : i will always love you; how i do (loki x reader)

@beskar-tano : Undying Fidelity (Loki x reader)

“I was just kind of hoping you’d y’know … fall in love with me.” + Loki Laufeyson Odinson

@jobean12-blog : A Smile In Bloom (loki x reader)

You and Loki bond over your mutual love for plants :)

@rorybutnotgilmore : Exist For Love (loki x reader)

Just some domestic baking and dancing with Loki.

| Natasha Romanoff |

@lethological-clara : Bikes and Bruises (natasha x reader)

Natasha teaches you how to ride a bike.

@saltybaltic : Downpour (natasha x reader)

Walking through the streets of New York you get caught in a torrential downpour and have to find cover

@saltybaltic : Save The Date (natasha x wife!reader)

On the day of your third wedding anniversary with Natasha, you realise that you’ve both been celebrating the wrong date

@saltybaltic : Cat Walk (natasha x reader)

Being friends with Natasha isn’t always easy, especially when you’re supposed to be helping her pick an outfit and you’re struggling to keep your mind out of the gutter.

gay panic

| Peter Parker |

@starshipsofstarlord : Screen Light (peter x reader

watching a movie does not always entail paying attention to it. However, there is innocence to the picture perfect distraction.

@baroquebucky : Truly, Madly, Deeply (peter x reader)

Truly, Madly, Deeply by One Direction with Peter Parker

one direction and peter parker is the perfect combo

@buckysbeloved : of sleep and safety (peter x reader)

in which peter parker slumps into your room exhausted and you have to try and get him into bed despite the height difference between you

| Pietro Maximoff |

@dem-obscure-imagines : Little Stark (Pietro x stark!reader)

Could you do an imagine of being Tony’s snarky sarcastic clever badass part-time Shield agent sister and Bruce’s best friend and therefore spends a lot of time in their lab while they’re your favorite people you are also brilliant, and therefore they also see Pietro always hanging around because he has a crush on you and Tony is protective big bro and everyone else just teases Pietro??

@helaintoloki : Meet The Family (Pietro Peter Maximoff x reader)

An innocent family dinner with Pietro’s new girlfriend reveals that life in Westview is not what it seems. Uncle Pietro introduces y/n to the family!

This one is sweet with a touch of Westview darkness

| Pepper Potts |

@rae-is-typing : Mother’s Day (mom!pepper x stark!reader)

It’s Mother’s Day, and you surprise your step mom Pepper

| Steve Rogers |

@ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark : Why Do You Hate Me So Much? (steve x reader) (slight bucky x reader)

You spend your whole life loving Steve Rogers, unfortunately he can’t even spare a minute to love you.

i really want a part 2 to this one

| Thor Odinson |

@rae-is-typing : She’s Not Dying (platonic!thor x reader)

You have a cold, and Thor thinks you’re dying.

| Wanda Maximoff |

@cap-n-stuff : wanda maximoff x reader

Wanda x reader angst (like reader gets hurt or dies maybe idrk lmao)

@beskar-tano : wanda x reader comfort headcanons

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

SWAT Guy (Part 4)

(gif by @supernatural-jackles​)

Summary: Dean and Sam have a setback in their case and decide getting drunk is the best course of action. The boys end up sharing some of their darker memories with one another but it might be exactly what they need to crack the case...

Masterlist

Pairing: SWAT officer!Dean x reader

Square: In Vino Veritas

Word Count: 1,400ish

Warnings: language, smidge of angst

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Sam is the reader’s brother. This was written for @supernatural-jackles​​ Tell Me A Story Bingo. Enjoy!…

_______

“Hey guys,” you said. They both grunted from the couch as you put the pizza box and other bag on top of the counter. “How was work? Any news in the case?”

“Not yet,” said Dean, Sam knocking back his drink. You caught the empty bottle of bourbon on the counter while you washed up, knowing for a fact it was half full the night before.

“Are you guys drunk?” you asked. 

“Yup,” said Sam, leaning his head back over the edge of the couch. He giggled and Dean started to laugh. You rolled your eyes and got out a few pieces of pizza and fries for them, putting them on plates and carrying them over. 

“May I ask why you two are drunk?” you asked while you fixed up your own plate.

“A bunch of shit went missing from the arsenal today,” said Dean. “They had the balls to drill under the building in the middle of last night.”

“Zero leads,” said Sam, taking a big bite.

“Something bad is going down. Real bad. Like stay the fuck home the next few days,” said Dean. Sam hummed around his food and you took a seat next to Dean. “It’s gonna be a fucking shit show when it goes down.”

“You guys are trained for that kind of thing,” said Sam, making a mess on his shirt as he scarfed down his food.

“They have our equipment. People could die,” said Dean. 

“Yeah but you gotta try still,” said Sam, eating four fries at once. “I mean I got PTSD from that guy and I still go catch murderers every day.”

Dean’s head snapped in your direction and you slumped down.

“You have PTSD?” asked Dean. 

“Yeah, he does,” you said quietly.

“Guy broke in our house when we were teenagers. Killed our parents. Almost got us too,” said Sam before he burped.

“Your parents were murdered?” said Dean. You nodded and took a small bite of pizza. “I’m sorry. Did they catch the guy?”

“It was a long time ago. Eventually yeah. He got life, no parole. I didn’t see or hear anything really. Sam came in my room and put me on his back and hopped out the window with me and ran us to a neighbors house. He’s the one that…”

“Saw it?” said Dean. Sam nodded and reached for his empty glass. “Yeah. I’ve seen my fair share of fucked up shit too.”

“I was so fucking jealous when you transferred to us,” said Sam with a laugh. “I heard about Denver. You go through that and here you come in all normal and cool and happy and I’m the one still going to therapy for something that happened nearly fifteen years ago.”

“The grass ain’t any greener over here,” said Dean. He was looking far more sober than Sam, one of his arms curling around your waist. “We can’t save everyone Sam. You were a kid. You saved the one you could and that is all we can do.”

“Did you really lose your family in Denver?” asked Sam. You knew Dean’s family had died suddenly a few years ago but he’d only ever implied it was an accident, nothing more.

“It was my mom’s birthday. Everyone was staying the night at the old house. My father was working on a case with the mafia. It was a pretty bad night.”

“How’d you…” you said, Dean smiling softly at you.

“Luck. I spent a month in the ICU. I have nightmares from work, don’t get me wrong. But mostly they’re about that night,” he said. He got up and took Sam’s glass away, replacing it with a bottle of water. “Next time we get drunk, it’s cause we caught this son of a bitch, not a pity party. Got me Sammy?”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“No, I’m not. But she’s my girl which makes you my boy and I was a Hell of a big brother if I don’t say so myself. So. Let’s eat, sober up, and tomorrow let’s try to catch these guys. Alright?”

Sam ripped off a chunk of his pizza and hummed. Dean sat down beside you and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Eat your dinner, baby,” you said quietly. “We’ll talk later.”

“I’m sorry,” you said in bed that night after Dean told you about what had happened in Denver. “It sounds like a horror movie.”

“It was. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone,” he said as you had your arms wrapped around his back. He had himself tucked into you, his head under your chin. “But I’ve felt more like my old self the past few months. Met this sweet girl, makes me feel better.”

“I love you.” He turned his head up, smiling at you.

“You love me? Why?”

“You make me happy and I care about you. I wish you were as happy as you make me feel.”

“I was low before you. I hid it was all. But you do make me happy. You and Sam. I feel like I have a family again maybe,” he said.

“You do,” you said, kissing him slowly, lingering your lips together. “I got you tonight and every other night. I promise.”

“Good morning,” you yawned, both boys working at the kitchen table with their laptops. You gave Dean a kiss on the cheek and ruffled his hair before resting your chin on top of his head. “You had no nightmares.”

“Nope,” said Dean with a smile. You peered down at his screen, Sam sipping on a cup of coffee. “How’s it going over there?”

“I think you’re onto something with that theory of yours.”

“What’s the theory?” you asked.

“Well,” said Dean, encouraging you to take a seat on his lap. “I was thinking, most crap in that room you can get on the black market. But then it hit me, it wasn’t about them getting it.”

“It was making sure the cops didn't have it. Whatever they’re doing is going down today and would require SWAT to use that specific equipment they stole,” said Sam. You hummed and Sam turned around his laptop. “You know more about this stuff than me-“

“You’re a better investigator than I am,” said Dean, taking hold of Sam’s laptop. His eyes flickered over top of the screen and he smiled.

“You think that’s it?” asked Sam.

“I think we got it Sammy boy.”

One Month Later

“Well don’t you two look all cute with your awards,” you said. Sam rolled his eyes but Dean took it as an opportunity to gave you a big fat kiss.

“I am literally right here,” said Sam.

“That ain’t my problem,” said Dean. Sam smacked in him the back of the head after you’d broken apart and Dean flicked his ear back.

“Boys,” you said as the chief of the station walked over.

“Enjoying your party boys?” he asked.

“Yes sir,” they both responded, a small smile crossing the chief’s lips.

“Maybe this will be a reminder that working across departments can be a good thing going forward. I’d like you two to head up any joint task force efforts that may fall under either of your purviews,” he said, both boys nodding. “Enjoy yourselves.”

“Well,” said Dean after the chief had walked away. “I say we get Sammy a girl tonight to celebrate.”

“Yes!”

“No!” groaned Sam.

“Little hottie from the press office in the green dress over there has not been shy about eyeing you up and down,” said Dean. Sam spun his head around and rolled his eyes. 

“That’s just Eileen guys. We’re friends.”

“Eileen! Sam wants to dance!” you called across the way as you pushed Sam over towards her.

“I’m gonna kill you!” muttered Sam, all smiles by the time Eileen was there.

“This is why I love you,” said Dean, kissing your temple and reaching behind you, trying to steal the last jalapeno popper off your plate. 

“Thief,” you said, picking it up. You held it up to his mouth and he took a big bite, grinning after he’d swallowed. “You know...I know we said you’d move back home when this all settled down but we could...you know.”

“I think I’m sticking around home for a while if that’s alright with you,” said Dean. You grinned and he rested his head on your shoulder. “I kinda got this no nightmare streak going lately and I’d hate to mess with that.”

“More than alright with me, babe,” you said as you kissed the top of his head. “More than alright.”

___________

[loki-the-bi-frost]

GUY

GUYS WHY AM I SO DUMB

I KEEP INTRODUCING MY PARENTS TO SHOWS I LIKE (AS LONG AS THEY’RE NOT TOO QUESTIONABLE LIKE SUPERNATURAL OR BROOKLYN NINE-NINE ETC.)

MY VERY CHRISTIAN AND HOMOPHOBIC PARENTS

BUT IT HAS RECENTLY GOTTEN VVV BAD

YOU SEE

I BINGED THE ENTIRETY OF JULIE AND THE PHANTOMS IN ONE SITTING THE WEEK IT CAME OUT, SECRETLY, IN MY BEDROOM

THEN I PLAYED SOME OF THE SONGS WITH MY COUSINS WHEN WE WERE HAVING A DANCE PARTY AND SHE WAS LIKE “OHHHHHH I’VE BEEN DEBATING IF I SHOULD WATCH THAT” AND I OF COURSE TOLD HER “YISSSSSS DO IIIIT IT’S SO GUD” (WE’RE BOTH GAY BTW, SHE’S NOT HOMOPHOBIC, THO BOTH OUR PARENTS ARE, BUT HER’S ARE MORE CHILL IT SEEMS)

ANYWHO, A MONTH OR SO LATER HER DAD AND MINE ARE TALKING ON THE PHONE, ON SPEAKERPHONE WHILST I’M WASHING DISHES, AS THEY DO, AND MY UNCLE MENTIONS JATP AND THAT IT’S GOT GREAT SONGS AND HE LIKES IT, AND SO I FREAK OUT THAT HE’LL MENTION THAT I RECOMMENDED IT TO MY COUSIN, SO I DRY MY HANDS AND FLEE THE KITCHEN IN FEAR. HE DIDN’T MENTION IT, LITERALLY STOPPED TALKING ABOUT IT THE MOMENT I FLED SMH

FAST FORWARD TO THIS SUMMER, I’M AT HER HOUSE AND WE’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT WATCHING IT AND WE’RE VIBING ON HER COUCH, FALLING ASLEEP BASICALLY WHEN HER DAD SUGGESTS WE WATCH IT, AND MY MOM MATERIALIZES OUTTA NOWHERE AND DECIDES TO WATCH IT TOO SMH AND MY COUSIN FALLS ASLEEP IMMEDIATELY AND I DON’T WANNA SUFFER ALONE SO I FAKE FALL ASLEEP

FAST FORWARD AGAIN TO ABOUT A WEEK AGO, MY FAMILY (ME, MY PARENTS, MY SISTER, WHO HAS ALSO WATCHED IT AND IS ALSO GAY) HAS BEEN SCROLLING THROUGH NETFLIX FOR NEARLY AN HOUR TRYNA AGREE ON SOMETHING TO WATCH (IN WHICH TIME I ALMOST GOT US TO WATCH COBRA KAI BEFORE I BARELY STOPPED MYSELF FROM CONVINCING THEM DEAR GOD SOMEONE STOP ME) AND JATP POPS UP AND I’M LIKE “YOOOOO I NEVER GOT TO WATCH THIS VERY MUCH AT [MY COUSIN’S]”

I CLICK ON IT

IT FADES FROM THE DESCRIPTION TO PLAYING THE FIRST EPISODE

NO ONE IS OBJECTING

NO ONE IS STOPPING ME

WHAT HAVE I DONE

SOMEHOW WE END UP WATCHING THREE EPISODES (SO YES WE GOT TO LUKE REVEALING ALEX IS GAY PLUS HIM MEETING WILLIE AND CALLING HIM CUTE DEAR GOD, SIDE NOTE: MY DAD LAUGHED AT ALEX’S “JOKE” THAT WAS LIKE “I DON’T LIKE THAT NICKNAME IT’S HOW I DIED” WHICH WAS IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWED BY SAYING HE THOUGH WILLIE WAS CUTE I SILENTLY LAUGHED IT WAS JUST SO FUNNY TO ME, OKAY ANYRAY-) AND SURPRISINGLY MY PARENTS NEVER SPOKE A WORD ABOUT ALEX AND WILLIE AND STILL HAVEN’T

UM SO I HAD OTHER THOUGHTS BUT I FORGOT THEM SO I’LL UPDATE THIS IF I REMEMBER

[runtedfiction]

nicer

day 1: facade @zelinkweek2021

ao3

* * *

Years later, when Link faces the castle’s crumbling walls, he thinks about the Princess.

* * *

The day King Rhoam announces this year’s Harvest Festival is also the day his subjects know they're doomed. Officially, it’s supposed to be a normal holiday. Unofficially, the language in the announcement—“the last celebration before the fight against Calamity Ganon”, “the last time the palace will be open to Castletown until the fight is over”—convinces everyone that they’re partying in the face of the apocalypse.

“They have no faith in me,” Zelda says, putting down her pen. “Ganon is brewing deep beneath the castle. Everyone knows it. Everyone knows I can’t stop it. This is their last chance to let loose before all hell breaks loose.”

Impa frowns and hands her the final page of raw Guardian data to clean. “You're too hard on yourself. You still have time.”

“I just have Mount Lanayru next week.” She focuses on the Silent Princess above her desk. It's wilting. “Do you think I’ll be wise enough? Maybe Hylia will smite me right then and there for being an idiot.”

“Princess!”

“I know, I know.”

* * *

They wrap up that afternoon’s study, an incredibly useful session in quantifying the powers of the Guardians, to get ready for the ball.

Zelda’s dress is her signature blue, but a bit more fluid and feminine than the one she normally wears. Made for dancing and a summer night.

“Collarbones,” Impa notes, and Zelda laughs. “A little off the shoulder as well! And the subtle constellation pattern in the tulle--how stunning!”

“Don’t act as if you didn’t design it.”

“Guilty.”

Impa’s dress, an even deeper blue, is similarly gorgeous. It’s long sleeved, form fitting, and silky.

“Impa, I just want to say—” Zelda pauses, looking at their reflections in the mirror. When will they ever look this nice again? “Thank you for being my friend.”

Impa' smiles. “Of course. And Princess—if I may.”

“Yes?”

“With all your talk of the world ending, of doom coming.” Her voice gets small. “Do you think it would be worth telling him?”

Zelda stiffens. She thinks of him somewhere in the castle, dressed in his best uniform, walking to find her.

She lies. “No.”

Three quiet, efficient raps sound against her door. Zelda’s heart lurches.

* * *

In the hot, overcrowded ballroom, she can’t stop wondering if he thinks she looks pretty.

There are important people here she needs to talk to: researchers from the Royal Ancient Tech Lab, religious leaders, captains of industry, and so on. She finds her father and tries to reach some common ground on the one night they aren’t preparing for Evil Incarnate. (She fails.) She should find the court poet and give him the dance he’s been writing about for the past month.

But all she wants is for Link to look at her.

He’s indeed in his best uniform. His gloves and boots are blindingly white; his collar sits high and stiff against his neck. He’s uncommonly handsome, and the uniform emphasizes it. When someone pulls him in to dance (technically he should be keeping watch, but that someone really insists), she hates the jealousy that blooms in her chest and takes the hand of the poet. When she twirls, when she makes conversation, when she curtsies--she tries to see it all from Link’s perspective, if he can even find her in the crowd.

“Princess, are you feeling alright?”

“Oh.”

The poet looks at her in the way that a puppy looks at its master. The neediness satisfies and repulses her.

“Yes,” she says, smiling quickly. “Thank you for asking. How are you?”

“Wonderful. I was sitting in the courtyard the other day and...”

It’s easy to tune him out and appear to be interested with the right amount of “mhmm” and “oh?” and eye contact. But every time he twirls her around, she tries to spot the top of a Royal Guard cap in the crowd.

She knows she’s being stupid. Even in the incredibly unlikely scenario where Link’s interested, what could they do? Given that her powers aren’t working, there’s only a sixty percent chance they’ll get through the Calamity. She thinks back to what Impa said earlier. Something about letting him know in the face of impending doom.

(Maybe it doesn’t make sense to do something that would possibly be useless, a tiny voice in the back of her head says. But on the flip side, it’s also possible that nothing will matter soon, so why not tell him?)

She scowls and lets the poet dip her far too low for common courtesy.

* * *

Link is definitely lost in the crowd now. The next song requires that they rotate between multiple partners, and she can’t spot him anywhere. There’s no way that he’d be looking at her anyway, because why would he? He’s the chosen one, kind and strong and handsome and blessed. She’s the failed reincarnation, mean and headstrong and cursed.

If (when) the world ends, it’ll be on her.

Zelda admits to herself, swaying in the arms of someone else who doesn’t matter, that because the world has an uncomfortably high probability of ending, it follows that maybe, possibly, probably it makes sense for her to say something.

A sense of urgency unfurls in the pit of her stomach. Where is he?

* * *

She tries to find him. She doesn’t know what she’d do--ask for a dance? Strike up a conversation? Maybe it's the heat getting to her, but it worries her that she's lost him. She walks the length of the ballroom and comes up with nothing.

There’s no way she could summon him, but…

She grabs a glass of water and walks out the ballroom to the nearest balcony.

Except in this very specific circumstance, it’s infuriating how easy it is for him to find her. Even when she doesn't want to be found, even when she’s actively running away (and nearly dying in the process), there he is. The knowledge that he’s almost always aware of her presence burns.

“Hello,” she says after a respectable amount of time.

He steps out behind her. Unfortunately, the moonlight’s softness makes him look angelic. “Hi.”

Zelda very rarely has no plan. She’s the one always bossing him around, deciding where they’ll go next and how they’ll get there and what they’ll do. She’s at a loss for words right now.

“Ah--hm.” A cooling night breeze passes by. “Are you--are you enjoying the festival?”

“Yes?” He looks confused. And hot, her unhelpful brain adds. Very hot. “Are you?”

“Yes. It’s quite warm inside, but I enjoy the music and the dancing.”

“The band is nice.”

She agrees and scrambles to find another conversation topic. Damn it. Still no plan. Think, think.

“Uh--” he starts the same time she asks, “Are you ready for Mount Lanayru next week?”

He nods, and she hates how she made the conversation about work. But he looks more confident now--talking about work is easier than trying to have whatever kind of conversation she had in mind. “Yeah. I read about the region and it seems relatively safe. We might see Naydra too.”

“That would be incredible,” she says. “I’d love to capture it on the Slate.”

He nods again. A silence passes (a horribly awkward one that eats at her) before she asks: “What were you going to say before I interrupted you?”

“Oh yes.” Link clears his throat, and the fact that he looks a bit nervous sends her heart pounding. Can he tell what her subconscious is trying to do? “I’ve been meaning to ask (oh God, oh God, what has he been meaning to ask)--are you avoiding me?”

She blinks. “What?”

He won’t make eye contact with her. Triforce of courage, my ass. “Are you avoiding me?”

“No?” She’s stunned. Avoiding? All she’s been doing for the past week is pining!

“But, I feel like.” He pauses to look at her briefly. Again, his nerves kick off her own. “Ever since we got back from the desert, you haven’t really talked to me.”

She needs to think. A week ago, what happened?

They were at the Kara Kara Bazaar, and she nearly died because she intentionally (stupidly) lost him. She relives the feeling of it now--the panic that came with facing certain death when she realized it wasn’t Link following her, but the Yiga, then the shock when he appeared out of thin air wielding the sword. His back, so strong and sure. His concern as he helped her get up afterwards.

How once she could process what happened, something kicked in her chest, and everything was so obvious so suddenly.

Then getting back from the desert, what did she do? She wrote a diary entry, spent a sleepless night deciding she had feelings for him that she didn’t want to name, and tried as hard as possible to conceal them. The pining was unbearable, and--oh. Looking at him made her face burn, so she turned away. She never knew what to say around him, so she chose to say nothing at all.

Perhaps she approached her yearning by offsetting it with its opposite.

They really haven’t spoken. Zelda shakes her head, and mentally kicks herself. How can someone like you back if you don’t even talk to them? “I promise, I’m not trying to avoid you.”

He furrows his brow a little. Cute. Unfair. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Ok. If you do--if you ever need more space, let me know.” He smiles a little. “I do have to follow you, but I can do it farther away or something.”

She smiles back. Please always follow me. “Thanks. No need.”

“Alright,” he says. He glances at her arms.“Do you want to go back inside? It’s a bit cold. You’re getting goosebumps.”

She didn’t even notice. An idea is forming in her mind, bright and hot and something that needs to rush out right now or she’s going to overthink it to death.

“Going back inside sounds good. When we do, would you--would you like to dance with me?”

The question leaves so quickly that she’s not too sure if he understood it. She holds her breath; she might throw up.

“Sure,” he says, and the disappointment that she expected to punch her gut doesn’t come; a flood of something wonderful washes over her instead. Sure is yes, her mind sings. “How about I find you before the last song? I’ve been doing a bad job of keeping watch.”

“Sure,” she echoes. Hopefully her excitement isn’t too obvious when she turns back and nearly runs into the ballroom.

* * *

When the band announces the last song of the night, Zelda lets go of the poet and steps back immediately.

“My Princess,” he says, and the normal repulsion she would feel turns into joy when she spots a navy blue cap making its way through the crowd. “I would be honored to have your final dance, if you would have me.”

“Another time,” she says, already turning to pick up her skirt and mosey her way through the last group of people separating her from a flash of sandy blonde hair. “Thank you though!”

She doesn’t wait for the poet’s response because the crowd is gone and Link is right in front of her, handsome and smiling slightly. Her heart is at a million miles a minute when she drops her skirt and steps forward to place her hand in his.

This isn’t like her. He must think she’s acting so strange. Either that, or it’s obvious just from looking at her what she’s thinking. It’s a frenzied array of thoughts, ranging from the obvious (handsome, handsome, smells so good?, handsome, kind eyes) and the embarrassing (The smallest, least repressed part of me has dreamed about this all week.)

The music starts and swells and she’s still dreaming. His hand on her back is firm. Thanks to the design of the dress, she can feel his glove pressing into her. She wonders if he can feel the heat of her skin.

“How are you doing?” he asks when they fall into a rhythm, and she smiles too fast, idiot, calm down.

“Great, how are you?”

“Good,” he says, and they spin. He smiles back. “Good to know you’re not avoiding me.”

“Of course not.” Stupid, you avoided him!

He dips her a perfectly appropriate amount.

She feels brave. It’s the adrenaline getting to her, because the rational part of her can’t stop (giddily) telling her that she’s dumb when she asks, “Why would you think that I'd avoid you?”

“Hm.” He looks away to consider the question. The tips of his eyelashes catch the chandelier light. “I thought that maybe last week was a bit too much.”

She thinks about how warm his hand was when he helped her get up after saving her life. “It wasn’t.”

“It’s ok if it was.”

“No, no, you’re too kind.”

Link clears his throat. “So you’re not avoiding me because I kept trying to follow you through the bazaar when you clearly didn’t want me to?”

She laughs. “No, it’s also incredibly stupid that I tried to lose you. Besides, what would’ve happened if you hadn’t?”

Link clears his throat.

She chooses to change the subject by asking an easy “What did you make for dinner tonight?” in an attempt to soak up the final minutes she has in his arms. He starts talking about mushroom risotto, and she can’t stop smiling.

* * *

At the end of the night, when he escorts her to her room, it’s late enough that silence is acceptable.

She’s decided that she needs to do something, but she doesn’t know what. A hug would be different, but too strange. I like you is simple, but too plain. Thinking about you makes my heart soft is embarrassing. I know I’ve been an incorrigible bitch but now my walls are down and I like you is too honest.

She turns around when they reach her doors.

“Tonight was fun,” she says.

He smiles. Zelda knows romance books don’t lie when her heart jumps at the sight of it. “It was.”

This is the moment. She takes a deep breath as quietly as she can. She has that nauseous feeling again. If nothing matters, tell him. Everyone knows the apocalypse is coming.

“Hey, listen,” he says right when she opens her mouth. He pauses to look at her. If she thought he looked nervous earlier when he asked her if she was avoiding him, it’s nothing compared to now. He does a visible gulp, and—

“I think I have feelings for you.”

She blinks. What?

“And I understand if you don’t feel the same way,” he continues, tense and fast, looking right at her, “especially in light of everything going on right now. But I just had to put that out there.”

What?!

She closes her eyes--what is happening right now--and when she opens them he’s still there. This isn’t a dream.

Holy fuck. “Really?”

He nods. “Really.”

“Huh,” she says. He beat her to it. “Huh.”

“Huh?”

She laughs. He beat her to it, and now all she has to do is the easiest thing in the world.

“I think I have feelings for you too,” she says. It’s so dark now she can’t see the blue of his eyes, but she can imagine it easily.

He’s surprised. “Really?”

“Really. In fact, I was meaning to tell you just now.”

“Really?”

She laughs. “Really.”

She smiles and takes his hand. He stiffens at first, then relaxes as she threads her fingers through his.

“Oh, actually, here, let me—” He lets go. Disappointment hits her briefly before she sees that he’s taking off his glove. Some of his scars are alabaster in the moonlight. He has so many.

(She wants to kiss all of them.)

His hand is warm and rough and lovely when he slips it back into hers.

“This feels nicer,” he says, and his voice is almost shy.

There are a million things she wants to say--what are we going to do if I end the world, what are we going to do if you save the world, how long have you known for, Hylia is going to smite both of us for being fools--but she settles on squeezing his hand instead. He squeezes back.

“Yes,” she agrees. Very gently, she cups his cheek with her other hand and leans in. He’s closed his eyes already. “Much nicer.”

[lucidtobio]

falling for you !

who knew falling a million times on ice would bring two people together?

[ fluff , gn!reader ]

class 1-A had planned a whole-class get together on the weekend. it was planned to be a relaxing change from the field trips that always ended up in villain attacks. while everyone had a wide range of suggestions, it was ultimately decided to listen to ochako and go ice skating.

at around 4:37 pm, the last pair of people finally showed up at the rink; even though it was over 30 minutes past the agreed meeting time. (cough kaminari and mineta cough)

"alright, let's get this party started!" mina cheered, sero and kaminari joining in her glee.

the skate rental counter was surrounded by the various students, all eagerly waiting to start standing on blades instead of their feet. you lingered towards the back of the crowd, not wanting to push and shove for a pair of skates.

"hey."

you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of a rumbling voice by your ear. turning around quickly, you saw kirishima grinning sheepishly at you. the tips of your ears turned red at the proximity between you two. hell, even him talking to you so suddenly added to your flustered state.

"don't scare me like that, kiri. i died for a second there," you teased while letting out an exaggerated breath. the boy laughed, his shark teeth staying visible for a while longer. your heart swelled at the noise like it did everytime you heard it.

fiddling with your fingers, your mind raced with something to ask kirishima to fill the small silence. luckily, he got there first. "are you any good at ice skating?" he asked while tilting his head slightly. pursing your lips, you tried to think of the last time you skated.

"i would like to think so, but probably not as well as you or aoyama," you offered. eijirou's chest fluttered at the subtle compliment from you. he quickly internally kicked himself for allowing a crush on an amazing person like you flourish. kirishima genuinely believed you were way too good for him.

the line in front of you had dwindled in the short time you were talking with kirishima. finally reaching the counter, you requested your size skate while kirishima got his as well. taking the shoes to the provided benches to put them on, you marveled at the size difference between yours and kirishima's.

"how are your feet so freakishly large?" you questioned, amusement lacing your tone. kirishima let out a small gasp of mock offense. "me? have big feet? i don't know what you're talking about, (y/n)."

narrowing your eyes at him, you lined up your foot next to his. "see! it's like, twice the size of mine," you exclaimed triumphantly. kirishima rolled his eyes with a smile dancing on his lips.

"let me see your hand," he insisted, raising his own. lifting your hand up, your palm pressed against his. you swore you felt sparks at the contact, but brushed it off to poke fun at the boy more.

eijirou couldn't deny it. your hand was way smaller than his. your smooth, slender fingers against his rougher ones felt calming. kirishima was 0.2 seconds away from intertwining his fingers with yours until you spoke up.

"whatever, titan hands."

the playful banter continued as you laced up the faux leather skates. jirou and kaminari looked on, seeing you two wrapped up in your own world. "how much you wanna bet they're going to be dating by the time we leave?" kaminari snickered, nudging jirou's side.

"nah, (y/n) won't do it," she concluded after a moment of thought. kaminari's eyebrows raised as they shook hands, sealing the bet.

once you had your skates secured on your feet, mina was pulling you up by your elbow. "come on (y/n)! i want you to go with me," she beamed, starting to move towards the entrance. you didn't really want to leave kirishima behind, but you knew mina would be upset if you ditched her.

"if you drag me down with you, we're not friends anymore," you giggled, linking elbows with her and waddling towards the entrance. looking over your shoulder one last time, you sent kirishima a faint smile and wave. his cheeks tinged pink as he weakly raised his hand to wave back, but you had already turned around.

after falling multiple times with mina, you had started to get the hang of ice skating. looking ahead you could see kirishima skating side by side with bakugou. unsurprisingly, bakugou was a natural while kirishima was struggling.

"i'm going to go by kiri for a second, okay?" you informed ashido. mina nodded at you in confirmation as her skates swerved right into midoriya's back. stifling laughter, you glided next to the red haired boy.

"oh, hey (y/n)! did you leave mina by herself?" eijirou asked, eyebrows furrowing slightly. you nodded in confirmation, eyeing kirishima’s death grip on bakugou’s arm.

“you good over there?” you asked, motioning toward where they were connected. bakugou rolled his eyes in annoyance. “tch, as if. shitty hair can’t ice skate for his life,” bakugou mumbled. at the same time, eijirou’s balance faltered and he started to fall before clinging onto the blonde.

“dumbass-!” bakugou shouted before they both ended up succumbing to gravity and falling to the ice. your hand flew to your mouth as laughter escaped your lips.

bending down, you reached out your hand to kirishima first and helped him up. once he was upright you moved to help bakugou, only to be met by his scowling expression and hand batting yours away. "i don't need your help, damn extra."

you and kirishima exchanged a look before bursting into laughter. bakugou quickly righted himself and skated away, mumbling curses under his breath.

starting to move away from that spot, you swiveled around when you realised that kirishima wasn't next to you. the red head was still in the same position, staring after you. when eijirou saw he got caught, his face turned the same shade as his hair

"sorry for staring (y/n)! i just, um, spaced out for a second," kirishima exclaimed, covering his face with his hands. a grin spread across your lips as you moved closer to him. gently prying off his hands from his face, you started to pull him forward while you skated backwards. (silently praying that you didn't fall on your butt-)

ochako and asui passed you at the same moment. "aww, tsu look how cute they are!" ochako cooed, trying to be quiet. asui nodded in agreement while saying you did make a cute couple. embarrassment flooded over you, your flustered state causing you to fall yet again. but this time, kirishima fell with you.

to be more precise, on top of you.

his weight pressed you further into the ice, making you wince. eijirou's hands were still loosely wrapped around your wrists which gave the impression to onlookers that he was pinning you down. one of kirishima's legs was between yours, causing more trouble while getting up.

scrambling apart, you finally seperated from the red head. you both sported flushed cheeks as you stood up again. "how unmanly," eijirou mumbled under his breath.

"maybe this time i'll just hold your hand," you huffed, reaching for kirishima's hand. there were no complaints from the boy in question. fingers tightly intertwined, you started skating forward again.

"maybe next time we do this, it'll be a bit more romantic," kirishima said, turning to you with a smile. who were you to turn down a date with him?

the ice was cold, but with kirishima by your side, you had never felt warmer.

a/n: part 187 of mars doesn't know how to end their writing

⤿ written 4.12.2021

⤿ masterlist

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Misread Details, Part Two

CW: Described death of whumper, BBU, implications of pet whump, references to noncon, dehumanization, sadistic whumper

Part One: Nanda | Part Two: Brute | Part Three: Robert

The Unsolved Murder of Henry “Brute” Hanlon and the Box Boy Killer

r/LetsTalkTrueCrime

•Posted by u/oshaycanyousee

2 weeks ago

I’m back, r/LetsTalkTrueCrime! I really appreciated the questions and discussion under my last write-up, and a few of you really encouraged me to keep working to provide a part two to my Serial Killer Box Boy series, so here it is!

In Part One, we looked at the mysterious death of Nathaniel “Nanda” Benson, who died of cardiac arrest due to an undiagnosed heart defect (and likely head trauma played a part) and was found at the bottom of the stairs inside his California home. The only valuable possession missing from his property was his legally-purchased Box Boy, who fled the city wearing Nathaniel Benson’s shoes and using his money to buy a bus and then train ticket. 

The last confirmed sighting of the runaway Box Boy (and Benson’s possible killer?) was in Red Hills, California, a large-ish city a couple hours south of Benson’s house by train. 

Questions remain around Benson’s death: did he suffer cardiac arrest and fall down the stairs? Did the Box Boy push him, with the shock of the trauma and injury leading to the heart attack that killed him?

Is the Box Boy merely a witness to a tragic but natural death, or the prime murder suspect?

And most importantly: If he wasn’t guilty, why did he run?

Less than a full calendar year after Benson’s death, the question of where the Boxie went after Benson died was answered… but even that answer only opened up more questions, and the sudden death of a second man places even more uncertainty into the story of a Boxie who might simply be an innocent victim - or who could be a serial killer whose makes a victim out of those who give him shelter.

Which leads us to the story of Henry James Hanlon, known to nearly everyone - including his wife - as “Brute”.

Henry Hanlon was born in a small town in Texas, but moved to Red Hills, California after finishing a stint in the Air Force. 

His parents, James Hanlon and Estella Hanlon, maiden name Brickers, had had their first child, Henry’s older brother William “Bill”, right out of high school, born six months after their wedding day. Henry came three years later, and his sister Roberta “Bobbie” one year after that.

Henry was a perfectly normal, cheerful little boy, always toddling after his older brother and trying to join in the games of the older kids in town. His parents recalled him as the quintessential “middle child”, always resolving disputes and quietly getting things done. He received his nickname of “Brute” in fifth grade, when a classroom bully was harassing a female friend of Henry’s and Henry decided to take action. The only information I could really hunt down on this was some old school records that I found on a message board, and I can’t really verify if they’re real, but they suggest that the bully was sent home injured and Henry received a three-day suspension.

After that, it seems, anyone and everyone - even teachers - called Henry Hanlon “Brute”, and he never seemed to mind.

He received perfectly average grades, enlisted in the Air Force, served without distinction but without any significant incidents, and afterwards he moved out to California, where he settled into Red Hills (then a city with a thriving industrial district that was slowly beginning its slide into something rougher) and took a job with a manufacturing company, working in their warehouse.

“Brute” dated around a bit, but it wasn’t until three years after his move that he met the woman he would marry, Ellen Patricia Barry. She was a few years younger than him, and they met at a local bar that both were known to frequent. One of Brute’s former coworkers told police that Brute was big into pool and poker, both of which he would engage in when he went to the bar, and that he met Ellen during one of the poker nights, and that Brute stated that how easily she beat him was one of the reasons he was interested in her romantically.

Ellen claims they first spoke while playing pool, not poker, and also claims she’s never played poker in her life. Why Brute would have told his coworkers a different story is unclear. 

They dated for about a year before they wed at Grace Baptist Church on a sunny summer day in 20XX. Ellen’s father gave her away while Brute’s little sister was the maid of honor. A year later, Brute’s daughter Elizabeth was born, and a couple years after that, their son Daniel.

The Hanlons lived a charmed life - they owned a cute three-bedroom cottage home (bought and given to them by Ellen’s parents as a wedding gift) in a good part of town with a little white fence around the property and a yard big enough for the children and dog to play in. Ellen was part of the local PTA and active in her church, and Brute himself had the appearance of a man totally content with everything he had.

But Brute Hanlon had a secret.

Ellen continued to believe he was employed by the manufacturing company, but he actually left his employment there years before his death. Instead, he seems to have transitioned into making his money “under the table”. Ellen wouldn’t discover any of this until after his body was located… in a secret house he’d never told her about, in one of the roughest parts of Red Hills.

Without her knowledge, Brute purchased a two-bedroom home with cash directly from its previous owner that was badly in need of repair in the Pauls Mill neighborhood. Once a “company town” from the 1930’s - 1950’s that was absorbed into Red Hills as it grew in the 60’s, Pauls Mill today is the kind of neighborhood where everyone knows if you belong there, or don’t, and it’s best if you belong.

Brute performed a few very cursory repairs to keep it livable, laid down some new carpet, and then used it as a kind of secret base for the unsavory activities he didn’t want Ellen or the children to know about.

While his family believed he was at work at the factory, Hanlon was in fact hosting poker games, selling illicit narcotics and unlicensed firearms, and generally making quite a bit more money than he had with legal employment entirely under-the-table. He would spend his day making connections (and money) through these activities, then go home right at 5 pm sharp to his loving family, eat dinner at 6 pm, help his kids with their homework and hear about their day, and settle in for an evening playing the loving husband and doting dad.

Somewhere during this time period, Brute told Ellen he was setting up a “poker night” with his friends again, now that the kids were school-aged. 

What he did instead was drive down to the corner of Holt and McCormick streets, known to all locals as the Red Hills “red light district”, and pick up prostitutes, usually simply meeting with them in his car, but occasionally taking them to a nearby motel.

After his body was found, police showed his picture around to a variety of the individuals who make their living at Holt and McCormick, and more than a dozen locals immediately recognized him. 

Some described him as a regular customer who wasn’t particularly special or notable beyond the simple fact that he never tried to renege on payment and could be relied on to always be looking for someone on a particular night of the week… but others, almost entirely male, said he could be violent. A few described being injured enough that they had to seek medical treatment after meeting him. The same individuals stated that he insisted on using dehumanizing and insulting language to speak to them during these encounters, and that he was often unable to perform unless he did so.

One individual, who gave his name as “Mix”, mentioned that the last few times Brute had engaged his services, he had brought along a collar and insisted Mix pretend to be a Box Boy. 

During this time period, Brute continued to be an active, involved, and loving parent. 

He was home right on time every night except “poker night”, attended his chlidrens’ recitals and baseball games on the weekends. He often took them to the Red Hills Zoo, local parks, and even did a weekend trip to Berras to see the Berras Aquarium, stay overnight in a hotel as a family, and then visit a redwoods park before returning home.

Six months before his death, Brute’s visits to the red light district abruptly stopped. Instead, he apparently met with a local prostitute, engaged his services, and took him home… for good. 

The best record we have is that one woman, Needie Brandt, remembered seeing Brute leading a shorter, angular young man to his car one night, and described the young man as “one of those runaway Boxies, collar and all. Poor thing was half-starved”. 

Runaways, especially Romantics, are picked up by police from time to time in Red Hills. Most Romantics don’t really know any other way to survive, so prostitution is a common way to make ends meet. Needie said the young man had been seen around the area for a couple of weeks, right alongside the rest of the working people in the red light district, and that after this one night she saw Brute Hanlon lead him into the car, she didn’t see him again.

Asked if she remembered a name, Needie only shrugged and said that even if she did, it wouldn’t be a real one. Which is probably a good point. 

Somewhere in here, Brute began to date outside of his marriage while his family believed he was out with friends playing poker. He took dancing lessons with one Susan Krieger, had a serious relationship with a Lucy Graham, and was apparently occasionally taking a Natalie Dorn out for dinner.

Ellen was never informed about these out-of-wedlock interests. 

Brute’s family knew nothing. When his eldest son went to state with marching band his freshman year of high school, Brute Hanlon was right there cheering him on.

Then, just two days later, he presumably went right back to brutalizing the Box Boy he was keeping in his secret second home.

We don’t have a record of what exactly transpired within the house after Brute took the runaway Box Boy in. What we do know is what the police found later on.

On October 18th, 20XX, around midnight, Ellen Hanlon called police to report her husband missing after he did not return from his regular poker night. His car was located in the parking lot of an abandoned FoodMart, but a friend of Brute’s came forward to say he often parked there and carpooled with friends when going out.

None of Brute’s possessions were inside, and it didn’t appear the car had been touched by anyone but Brute himself when it was dusted for fingerprints or signs of DNA. Brute’s friends who knew about his secret activities weren’t telling, and Ellen and the children didn’t know anything about their seemingly loving husband and father’s double-life. 

At first, the trail seemed like it would go cold, and investigators were frustrated that they had so little to go on.

Then, on October 29th, 20XX, Brute’s neighbor (who apparently asked that his name not be given) called the police department complaining about how the small two-bedroom house next door had begun to smell “like something died in there”, and that he hadn’t seen his neighbor leave or return in days, which was very unusual.

When police arrived, the front door was unlocked. Officer William Keys, the first one inside, later described the smell as “unmistakable. I knew exactly what we’d find the second we walked in that door.”

He was right.

What they found was the bloodied and decomposing body of Henry “Brute” Hanlon, lying on his back in the middle of a small unremarkable living room, on a dirty and stained carpet. He had been viciously stabbed more than fifty times. One even went so far into Brute that there was an exit wound through his back. Medical examiners would later state that at least seven of his wounds would have been directly fatal, but that he had died within the first few and most of the wounds were technically post-mortem.

The murder had been committed by someone who had a very personal reason for the killing. Investigators believe this individual was “absolutely enraged”.  

Next to his body was the murder weapon, along with a set of buckles and strips of leather that mystified the officers. These were eventually identified as modified leg braces, but rather than straightening bent or injured legs, they forced the wearer to keep their legs at nearly right angles, which would ensure they had to crawl rather than walk. They appeared to be homemade.

Bloodied smears and footprints led the officers down a hallway and to the bathroom, where there was evidence someone had showered, changed clothes, and then left.

The same neighbor who informed police about the smell also remembered seeing, on October 16th or 17th (later determined that it was likely the 17th, the day that Brute did not return home from “work”), a young man wearing an oversized coat, sweatpants, and a too-large t-shirt walk out of Hanlon’s house and down the street. The young man was on the short side, the neighbor said, had an angular face, and a visible scar at the corner of his mouth and another along the side of his face. He had the collar of the coat flipped up, and the neighbor doesn’t recall if he wore a collar or not.

He had dark eyes, and short but shaggy dark hair that seemed to have been cut hurriedly and unevenly, and he waved at Hanlon’s neighbor without pausing or speaking as he walked past.

Tests on fingerprints and DNA located within Brute Hanlon’s secret second home would reveal that the Box Boy who once ran from Nathaniel Benson after his death was the exact same one who ran from Brute Hanlon after murdering him. The Boxie’s fingerprints were all over the murder weapon… and everywhere else, too.

Within Brute’s home, more knives were found, along with what looked like a badly-crafted homemade whip and some other supplies. A few of the things investigators found appeared to be essentially identical to what was found in Nathaniel Benson’s home. Other things were different (“animalization” was mentioned in some of the reports, but what I’ve been able to find is seriously vague for some reason). 

Possibly related, a series of dog leashes purchased from a local pet-supply store were found throughout the home, but there was no evidence of an actual dog. In the home’s main bedroom was a perfectly normal queen-sized bed that was clearly Brute’s, with a small side table, a large dresser, and an attached bathroom. 

There was absolutely nothing outwardly out of the ordinary, besides the room being very plain and impersonal. Makes sense, since Brute almost never slept there. 

In the second bedroom, however, there was army-style cot with a thin blanket and sheet, three folded shirts on the floor, two sets of bloody metal handcuffs hanging off the cot’s frame at the top and bottom, and a bucket next to the bed. Two metal bowls, clearly of a style meant to be a dog’s food and water bowls, were next to the door. One still had water in it. The window was painted and nailed shut, and bars had been installed over the windows.

Investigators determined the bars were on the house when Brute Hanlon purchased it and had been installed by the previous owner. No reason for that installation was ever given.

Investigation revealed trace amounts of evidence of blood, but nothing much. However, the living room and dining area both showed poorly-cleaned bloodstains that were much older than Hanlon’s murder, including discolored patches on the walls.

A contract for a 24/7 “master/slave” style relationship was found in the top drawer of the dresser, signed ‘Pet’ at the bottom, and with Brute’s name alongside it. However, both signatures match Hanlon’s handwriting, and the Boxie is not believed to have actively signed it, as he would be illiterate at best. Plus, Box Boys are not legally allowed to enter into any contract, anyway, since they can’t understand obligations at that level, so even if he had signed it, it wouldn’t have been considered remotely valid.

I mean, not that those contracts are legal, but... you get my point.

Also located in that drawer were more than one hundred photographs showing the Boxie in a variety of compromising situations and positions. Several of these photos had Brute himself clearly visible in them, and a few had other individuals who have since been identified as Brute’s associates in his more illicit activities.

Interrogations of those associates led to more than seven further arrests for illegal gambling, the production and sale of illicit drugs, and illegal weapons sales. Those interrogations are also how we know about what Brute Hanlon was up to in-between Little League games and Girl Scout meetings.

Those associates claim that Brute kept a “secondhand Box Boy”, muzzled him so he couldn’t speak whenever guests were over, and that often ‘poker night’ simply turned into a game where the assorted guests and Brute himself repeatedly assaulted the Boxie. The associates claimed they thought the entire thing was consensual, but frankly… given the overwhelming evidence that the Boxie had to be kept restrained and was often seriously injured by these assaults... that’s doubtful.

Ellen and her children, who had previously been very visible and spoke often to local news stations about Henry’s disappearance, withdrew after his body was found and his second, secret life revealed - and have never given a single public statement or made a public appearance since. 

Ellen moved her children out of Red Hills, moving back in with her own parents, briefly, in northern California. Where they went after that is unknown, but they appear to have left the state and Ellen may have changed her surname. Investigators are firm in their belief that Ellen knew nothing about her husband’s secret life.

I would give my right arm to know what his son and daughter think about it, and if they ever suspected what their devoted dad was up to when he wasn’t at home.

So, what happened to the Boxie after he left the house and disappeared down the block from the witness who saw him?

In short… no one knows for sure.

After murdering Brute Hanlon and cleaning off the evidence that must have been all over him, the Boxie simply fades away. He could have been anywhere, doing anything at all. There is a brief sighting of him on CCTV footage at the local bus station, where he is in line to buy a ticket… and then abruptly looks up, apparently noticing the camera and looking directly into it, then turns and walks quickly away.

The footage is grainy, but the Boxie does appear to be wearing his collar.

He isn’t seen in Red Hills again.

Instead, he reappears one more time before his final murder and disappearance… more than a year later, in a little town right along the border with Nevada.

Part 3 will go into how the investigation into the death of a quiet little oddball named Robert Weber reveals a basement full of skeletal bodies. But our Boxie isn’t the cause.

Instead, Robert Weber’s murder solves a series of related murders police had been stymied by for more than a decade, and a Box Boy who may have been meant to be Weber’s next victim instead turned accidental vigilante with a final killing of his own.

Or maybe I should say, his final killing so far.

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