#tormenting the boy this is why you got jumped

[chloesimaginationthings]

You drew him as such a baby here... so cute!

Oswald is just a lil guy.. Pit Bonnie get sent to super hell for bullying him

[bluenotes75]

Trust

Miles Morales ! 42 x Fem ! Reader Synopsis : ''I messed up princesa, I messed up bad.'' wc : 1,6k Warnings : spoilder for atsv, angst, THEY ARE AROUND 19 YEARS OLD, possessiveness, this is angst but like good one, no proofread, what I could remember from my spanish class 3 years ago. pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.3

You glanced at your phone for the hundredth time this minute.

Still no sign of life from Miles.

You were worried, more than you should as you had seen him for the last time the previous day. Yet, you were used to texting your boyfriend every day. It was now nighttime and he had not answered any of your messages. You scrutinized with a frown the last texts you had sent him. He had left you on read.

Miles never left you on read.

Well, he did but only for two reasons. First, when he was mad at you. Thus the first contradiction because the boy was rarely mad at you. Even if he was, he would always confront you directly and talk things out. He hated being on bad terms with you. Life was already rough without you by his side and he wouldn't let anything strip him of any quality time with his girl.

The other situation was is… street activities with his uncle. He used to disappear for days without telling you why, convincing you to not get concerned about him. However, after that one night when you yelled at him, crying, for worrying to death after he ghosted you for two days straight, he promise to always send a quick message to tell you when he would get really busy.

So as you sat on your bed, plunged in the darkness of your room, you knew that none of these cases applied to the current situation. You two hadn't fought and he hadn't told you anything about his prowler activities. Well, nothing that you knew of, which left you insanely troubled.

Your last words together were when he left for a party the previous night. You were supposed to go with him but dropped at the last minute because your mother felt sick. You preferred staying by her side, making sure she get better. At first, Morales wanted to stay with you and spend the night at yours, but you refused. You couldn't remember the last time he got to catch a breath and just enjoyed life like the young man he was. He was always either hanging out with you - making sure you were safe by the same occasion- or working with his uncle. So like the good girlfriend you were, you convinced him to go to the party without you. You just wanted him to have fun and even though he was reluctant, he couldn't say no to you.

Since then you had heard nothing from his side. It was already far in the night and you should be sleeping, but you couldn't close an eye.

At this point, you were contemplating directly calling his mother or even his friends. But you knew Miles despised you talking to other guys. Even if they were his own friends.

Your train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a bang on your window. You jumped at the sound and gawked when you catch sight of the boy tormenting your thoughts out of the corner of your eyes.

You hurried up and opened the window for him and he stumbled inside your room looking…awful. You could see the dark circles painted under his eyes and the frown settled on his forehead. Before you could say anything, he clenched his jaw and wrapped his arms around your waist, dragging your body to his. He pressed your bodies tightly against each other, leaving no room for anything else and the heat of your skin warmed the iciness of his.

You were left speechless as he leaned down and nestled his face on your chest. This sudden display of physical affection was unusual from your Miles. You were the one initiating the cuddles, the kisses, the hand-holding. So you couldn't help your heart from fluttering at this new attention. However, the feeling quickly vanished as you remembered the context. Your worry came back like a slap on your cheek.

“My love, what's going on ?” you broke the silence and wrapped your arms around his neck to hug him back, sensing that he needed it.

You received the silence treatment.

“Miles,” you frowned and leaned back to look at his face, only for him to stop you by tightening his arms around the low of your back.

“You haven't answered any of my texts since yesterday, what happened? Is it your uncle? You can talk to me. ”

He took a deep breath against your skin but still left you with no explanation, which made you upset.

“Miles, you can't just disappear for a whole day and come back as if it was nothing !”

“Lo siento Mami, I messed up,” his pained voice came out muffled by your shirt. You scowled at his words. ‘uh ?’

“What do you mean ?”

''m' so sorry. I messed up princesa. I messed up bad.''

You moved your hand to his hair to caress it and comfort him.

''What did you do ?''

''I-don't make me say it.''

Whatever he has done had to be really bad for him to be that panicked. You could definitely tell that it had been eating him all day.

''Tell me,''

''….I messed up last night, because of another girl.''

As soon as the words escaped his mouth, your hand froze in his hair. All the worries slipped out of your body as your blood ran cold. This couldn't be what you thought right?

''W-what ?''

''I kissed another girl.''

There it was.

Your hands fell to your side as your heart dropped. This was the last thing you could have ever imagined. You took a shaky breath trying to process the wave of emotions that invaded you, but your stare was already lost in the wall facing you.

Sensing your lack of reaction, Miles leaned back to look at you.

''You don't know how much I regret it-''

''Let go of me.''

The boy tensed in your arm at the unusual coldness of your voice.

“No mami, let me explain-”

“Let me go !” This time you yelled.

You thought back to all his possessiveness. Him not letting you talk to your guy friends. You thought back to these sleepless nights you spend worrying about this safety, just like tonight. To all these efforts you pulled to break the wall he build around him after the loss of his father.

All that for him to fumble and betray you in the end.

You felt your eyes water but you refused to cry in front of him. He couldn't see you weak. He couldn't see how much he had wounded you.

“Get out,”

“I won't, you can't end us.”

“What?'' You scoffed at his nerve. ''You ended us the moment you prioritized having fun over our relationship. Get out !”

Yet, he stayed still.

And that's all it took for you to lose it. He didn't have enough of betraying you, now he had to stay and insensitively watch you break down. He was a mess on the inside. He had never seen you this upset, and he loathed himself for being the cause of it.

“How could you do this to me !” Tears rolled down your cheeks.

There, you had failed to maintain your facade and Miles watched in horror as you fell apart in front of him. Through your blurry sight, you didn't notice that he was also crying. He stood there, towering over you, eaten up by remorse. He was supposed to protect you. He had accepted the prowler job to protect both you and his mother, but he had done the total opposite.

But he couldn't bear to lose you.

He let go of your waist and wrapped his fingers around your wrists to stop you. You tried to escape his hold but he was too strong.

“Querida, mirame por favor. I will make it up to you. I'll buy you everything you want. Tu eres mi mundo and you know-” he tried but you wouldn't hear anything.

“Who do you think I am? You can't buy me with money! Stop being selfish and leave !”

The boy tried to make eye contact with you but you looked sideways, taking deep breaths to calm down. You were overwhelmed with so many emotions that you didn't know what to feel anymore. However, you knew you couldn't bear to see him anymore.

For some reason, Miles seemed to catch the message as he finally let go of your hands and stepped back.

''I hope you can forgive me, mami.''

''Don't. I hate you. I wish I never met you.''

You spat those words purposely to hurt him. You didn't mean them at all. If anything, you still loved him as hard as before. Yet, when you noticed his hurt expression, it brought you a bit of consolation. It was tiny and it only lasted a second, but it was something.

You turned your back to him and eventually, you heard the window open and close behind you. Only then, you tumbled to your knees and let all of your tears fall, becoming a sobering mess in the silence of the room.

You had heard a lot about heartbreak. From your friends to your mother and even your aunt. What you didn't know was how aching it would be. Because even after he betrayed you, even after he made you feel like you weren't enough, you couldn't stop your heart from beating faster for Miles.

[maybank5]

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐤 (𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐡 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭)

pairing ⤜ yn x jj

summary ⤜ you and jj have never gotten along; sworn enemies since childhood. so why is then, when he shows up with bruises, you want to burn the entire world down for this boy?

tags and such: abuse, mentions of abuse, fluff, comfort, walks on the beach, mutual crushes, jj calling you 'mama'

a/n ⤜ needing some comfort jj fics in my life right now, and i'm sure i'm not alone in that. enjoy! also this was supposed to just be a little drabble, but she kinda took on a life of her own. not complaining though lol

song inspo ⤜ any kyla la grange song

word count ⤜ 4k+

JJ Maybank - the bane of your existence. Ever since he had trampled your sandcastle on the playground back when you were seven, you couldn't stand him. And one trampled sandcastle had set the stage for ten years of torment at the hands of this boy. He seemed to revel in making your life miserable. He wouldn't be JJ Maybank if he wasn't pulling your hair or teasing you or shoulder-checking you in the hallway. And you wouldn't be you if you didn't put your hands on your hips and glare at him, shouting after him a scolding, "Oh grow up!" that was only ever met with that laugh of his that seemed to bounce of the cinderblock walls of the school halls.

You had come to realize sometime around sophomore year that you and JJ Maybank were destined to be enemies. You found yourself looking forward to the school day, to see just how he'd try to fuck with you, and to scold him and hear that damn laugh. Your friends couldn't understand it; why the two of you always seemed to seek each other out, despite your mutual hatred. "You wouldn't get it," you'd say with a shrug. JJ Maybank was your mortal enemy, but you honestly couldn't imagine your school day, your life, without him in it.

JJ is no stranger to a fight. He's always getting into something with the kooks from Figure Eight. It's not out of the norm for him to show up to school with a busted lip or black eye. He always shrugs it off, brags about how the other guy "looks much worse." You roll your eyes and shake your head. He's never seriously hurt though, so you don't worry too much. It's not like you lose sleep over JJ Maybank. Still, you can't help the relief you feel that shoots through you like a drug whenever he laughs off the bruises or black eyes.

But today is different. Yesterday, JJ wasn't in school. Not that unusual of an occurrence. But today, JJ shows up to school with his face a galaxy of purples and yellows. Your heart sinks to your stomach as if weighted with a lead anchor. This wasn't just the result of a spat between a Pogue and a Kook. He looked like he'd been jumped and you spend the entire morning following him with your eyes. You want to go over and check on him, press your palm to his cheek, and ask what happened, make sure he's okay. But that's not you and JJ. Instead, you hug your books tighter to your chest and follow him down the halls with your gaze. All you want to do is run after him, check on him. It makes no sense. You know he probably just got in another fight. JJ was always stirring up some type of trouble. But he didn't have the usual laugh or smile this time. His eyes looked almost hallow, broken. It made your heart feel heavy in your chest. You could barely focus in class, all your thoughts drifting to JJ Maybank and those haunting bruises. They were like ghosts in your head.

At the end of the day, JJ was swinging his backpack onto his shoulder with a wince, about to hop into his truck with you surprised yourself. Instead of catching a ride with your friend Sarah, you find yourself running across the parking lot to his beat up, rusted old truck.

"JJ!" You call.

His head whips around, brows furrow when he sees you. Then, that lazy smirk spreads painfully across the snagged and scabbed lip, "Y/N," he says in that lazy, bemused kind of way of his, that let's you know you're in for something, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

You want to scold him like you would normally. Instead, you freeze. You don't know what to say that doesn't include some sort of spat or dig. Instead, all you want to do is pull him close to you and hold him in your arms and it makes no damn sense.

"You weren't in school yesterday," you settle for saying.

"Astute observation, Sherlock."

Your stomach flips a little, excitedly like it does before a fight with JJ Maybank; like you were born for these little interactions. Instead, you take a breath and try your best to push through the wall he's putting up. "I just...I wanted to make sure you're okay?"

"When am I ever not okay?" JJ asks, pushing the blonde hair off his forehead with a practiced flick of his hand.

You sigh. He's deflecting. Of course he is. When does JJ Maybank ever take anything seriously. You don't know why it bothers you so much, but you need him to know. You need him to know that you care, that you're in his corner. You'd fight against him a thousand times over, but when he shows up looking like this, all you want to do is fight at his side and burn down the world for him. You know it doesn't make sense, but when did anything regarding JJ Maybank make sense.

You decide to meet him where he's put you. "Just seen you prettier, that's all," you say with a shrug. If he wants to deflect and be snarky, you can do that too. If snark is his comfort zone, you can meet him there.

JJ tugs the corner of his bottom lip between those feline-like teeth of his. He's amused, and it makes you happy to know you made him smile. Or rather, JJ's version of a smile.

"You worried about me, darlin'?" He drawls.

"If someone roughs you up too badly, who do I have to fight with?" You ask, and JJ laughs. Your stomach dips with the weight of the butterflies that have filled it.

JJ pushing his hair back again, smirk still playing on his lip, "Don't worry, darlin', nothin' can stop me from fighting with you. It's my favorite part of my day."

You cross your arms, fighting the smile on your face as you shake your head. "You're impossible," you say.

"And you love it," he says. You don't realize right away that you don't deny it.

"So...need a ride?" He asks, glancing behind you as Sarah's car pulls from the parking lot. "Cause it looks like yours just left."

Sarah. She's always trying to get you two alone. For some reason, she has it in her head that all your fighting is just camouflaging your "real feelings." You think Sarah needs to stop reading so many fanfics in her free time.

"Of course," you sigh, "Remind me to give Sarah Cameron an earful when I get home."

JJ just chuckles and unlocks the truck, tossing his backpack in the backseat. "Get in," he says. You don't argue.

You toss your bag in the back next to his before joining him in the front seat. Sitting together on his bench seats of his old truck feels almost intimate. This is the closest you've ever been to JJ before, and it's happening when you're alone. Both your brain and stomach feel as if they're on rollercoasters.

JJ backs the truck out of the school parking lot. "So, where to, Y/L/N?"

You tell him your street and he nods. He rolls down his window and with practiced ease, takes out and lights a cigarette one handed. You try not to wrinkle your nose. This is his truck and he's being kind enough to give you a ride. You aren't going to be a pain about a little cigarette smoke.

JJ begins to drum his fingers on the wheel, his right knee is bouncing jitterijngly. The cigarette between his fingers is doing nothing to calm his nerves, and you fight the urge to rest your hand on his knee.

"So," you say after a beat, "You gonna tell me about the sick fight you got in that led to....that," you wave a hand in his general direction.

JJ takes a drag of the cigarette, the air in the truck suddenly feeling thicker. "Not much too tell. Mouthed off, the usual."

You nod, "We both know that mouth of yours is gonna get you in some type of trouble one day."

JJ smirks, but it doesn't quite reach his eye, "Yeah," another drag of the cigarette, "But fuck, I wish hadn't been so drunk out of his mind to forget he was wearing that damn class ring."

You freeze. "What?"

"Dad," another drag, "That's who I've got to thank for these sick bruises. Dear ol' Dad."

"JJ..."

"It's fine," he quick to say, quick to shrug, "I've got it under control. It's usually not this bad. But last night he was completely hammered and I should have known not to..."

"No, JJ," you're quick to say, "Nothing you did is an excuse for this. Whatever you did, you didn't deserve this. This is on him, not on you."

JJ sighs, tightens his hand on the wheel, "Whatever," he says, another shrug, a slight sniffle, "It's just a few more months, then I'm eighteen and I'm out. It's fine, really Y/N. I've got it under control. And usually when he gets like that, I can hide out at John B's place, lay low a bit."

"JJ, you shouldn't have to..."

"It is what it is," JJ says, another shrug, "It's just the roll of the dice. The hand I've been dealt. I learned a long time ago it does nobody any good to run around feeling sorry for yourself."

"Does anyone know?" You ask, you feel like your stepping out onto a frozen lake, unsure of the weight of the ice.

"John B, his dad. They do what they can. No one blinks twice at a kid from The Cut with a few bruises. I've got a home, I'm fed. That's more than most of the kids from the broken homes 'round here. Besides, if anyone did come sniffin' around and decide to take me away, you know what that means, Y/N? That means being taken to the mainland, to a group home that'd probably be worse than where I am now. And I won't have John B or Big John or the surf to keep me sane. So I lay low, try to stay out of his way. It's fine, Y/N. I'm fine."

Your hand hovers slightly before you press above JJ's knee, right where the khaki cargo shorts cut off. His skin is soft, tanned. You half expect him to jerk away, to smack your hand away. Instead, he tenses under your touch, his eyes draw to you. You give him a soft smile.

"It's okay not to be fine, JJ. You don't have to be fine all the time, and you certainly don't have to be fine around me. It sucks, and I'm so sorry this is what you go through. You've never minced words with me before, so don't start now. It fucking sucks. But you aren't alone, okay? I'm here for you too."

"Mind if we make a pit stop first?" JJ asks.

You shrug, "I've got nowhere else to be."

You're sure Sarah is probably glued to her phone wanting every detail. You can make her stew a little bit.

JJ pulls the truck over at the drive-in burger place, Storm's. He orders two strawberry milkshakes.

"If you don't like strawberry milkshakes, then I'm kicking you out of this truck right now," he says, paying the carhop the $5.50 and handing you your Styrofoam cup.

"If you don't like strawberry milkshakes, I might never speak to you again," you say.

"Damn it," he snaps his fingers with a grin, "Nearly had an out."

You give his shoulder a shove and JJ laughs. It feels good to hear him laugh, to be the cause of it. You want to make him laugh over and over again.

JJ takes the truck out towards the beach. You sit in silence as you watch the waves, sipping your milkshakes. Silence has always made you feel awkward, on edge. This silence between you feels almost comfortable. Like neither of you have to say anything, and that's okay.

Still, you can't help but ask, "You have somewhere to go tonight?"

"Been staying at John B's," JJ says, "Dad'll cool off in a few days. Sober up. He's predictable like that. Hell," JJ laughs humorlessly, "I'll bet this weekend he'll pull up with an ice chest of beer and cans of tuna and have a whole weekend out on the boat planned just the two of us. That's as close to an apology as Luke Maybank can muster."

"JJ..."

"It's fine, Y/N. Like I said, I've got it under control. A few more months and then I'm out. I've even got money saved. John B and I are gonna rent a place close to the water. It'll be sick."

"Sounds nice," you say. "This is nice," you wave your milkshake out towards the sea just ahead, "I don't come to the beach enough."

"You don't? How do you survive?"

You can't help but laugh at how genuinely concerned he sounds. "Not everyone needs the salt water to survive, Jage," you say, "I guess I just never grew up with it. My parents are definitely more inside people. And sure we go to the beach sometimes. But I guess I just don't go out of my way to come here."

"That's just sad, Y/N. One of these days, I'm gonna have to teach you to surf." The comment seems to take the both of you by surprise. "Uh..." JJ's hand goes immediately to the back of his neck.

"I'd like that," you're quick to say, and it seems to relax him just a bit.

"Really?" That lazy grin is back.

"Mmhmm," you nod, "No one's ever gone out of their way to teach me anything like that before. And even I know you're one of the best surfers on the island."

JJ beams with pride, sits up a little straighter, "Damn straight." He takes another slurp of his milkshake, then lifts his chin towards the water, "C'mon," he says.

"Where are we going?" You ask as he's already bailing out of the truck.

"Just c'mon," he says.

You can't help but laugh, leaving your milkshake behind. JJ takes your hand in his and pulls you towards the beach. The wind is kicking up as evening approaches, and you walk along the sand, breathing in the brine of the salt water. JJ's still holding your hand in his, and you can't help but think it belongs there, in his.

"This right here," he says, "is why I stay where I am. I can't imagine being away from the ocean, the surf. John B says I have saltwater for blood and maybe he's right. But this right here, Y/N, is my favorite place in the world. It's paradise. Everything else, all the bullshit, it's worth it to be here. There's no where else I'd rather be."

"It is beautiful," you say, "I definitely need to come out to the water more."

"I'll bring you."

"You better."

JJ smiles, tightens his hand around yours.

The two of you walk along the beach, enjoying the sounds of the waves splashing, the gulls cawlling from above. Some little kids are building sandcastles as you walk past.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" You ask, "I was building a sandcastle in the sand box on the playground and you trampled right over it."

"That was not the first time we met."

"Yes it was."

"Oh no it wasn't. C'mon, Y/N, do you really not remember?"

"I remember you trampling my sandcastle is what I remember."

JJ shakes his head, "We met before that. Nursery school. About two years before then."

"What?" Your brows furrow as you try to think back that far.

"It was your first day and you were crying and clutching that stupid teddy bear of yours. You didn't want your mom to leave you. You sat off by yourself crying all morning. I went over and shared my Goldfish with you cause I felt bad."

"Oh my God..."

"Yeah," JJ runs a hand through his hair, watching the sand kick beneath his feat, "And then that day on the playground, I was so excited to see you again that I ran over and...accidentally stomped on your sandcastle. But by then you were so livid that I'd ruined it and started yelling at me, and well...I've always been kind of a shit about things and so I started kicking it worse, just to get a rise out of you. I'd have done the same thing to John B. But seeing you get all...squawk like that."

"I do not squawk."

"Oh you absolutely squawk," JJ laughs, "And thus began our beautiful rivalry as we know it."

"You're a pain," you say, but you can't help the smile on your face.

"You love it though."

"Do not."

"Do too!" JJ gives you a gentle shove with his shoulder, "You absolutely start half the shit that's happened between us. You go out of your way to track me down and yell at me for something."

"I do not do that!"

"You absolutely do that. And you drag poor Sarah long with you and she stands there and tries not to laugh as we go at it. If I didn't know better, Y/N, I'd say you actually enjoyed our fights."

"That's not true! You are such a menace! You get on my last never all the time and..."

"Uh-huh," JJ's smirk deepens, the dimple forms in his cheek, "Keep tellin' yourself that, Mama."

The term of endearment makes your stomach tighten. You can feel your cheeks heat, and it's not from the sun.

"Don't call me that," you say.

"Why not?" JJ asks.

"Because," you can't think of a single valid reason. "That nickname is for a significant other," you finally say.

"True," JJ nods, "And that's definitely not you, right?"

"Absolutely not," you say, your hand gives his an involuntary squeeze, "In your dreams, Maybank."

"What do you know about my dreams, Y/L/N?"

You give him a shove, and JJ laughs.

"I like that," you say before you can stop yourself.

"Like what?" JJ asks.

"Your laugh."

You swear his cheeks go a shade of pink when you say it.

"No one likes my laugh," he says.

"That's not true. John B likes your laugh, I see the two of you. He's always trying to go out of his way to make you laugh. And I like it too."

JJ blushes deeper, "You can't just go runnin' around sayin' shit like that," he says.

"And why not?"

JJ just sighs, lifts his eyes to the sky like he's saying a silent prayer and shakes his head, "You just can't, darlin'."

The two of you walk a little further, to one of the rocky hills. JJ still holds your hand as the two of you climb up to sit on the top. He pulls his knees to his chin, wrapping his arms around his legs. "Love coming here," he says, "Best place to sit and clear your head when the noise of everything else gets too loud."

"It really is beautiful," you say, "Thank you for bringing me."

"Haven't had a chance to come out here since the other night," JJ says, picks up a rock and turns it in his hand. "Went straight to John B's after."

You finally reach a hand out, cup his cheek in your palm, "I'm so sorry, JJ," you say, wishing your gentle touch could somehow erase the pain from his flesh. You realize in this moment that JJ Maybank should only ever feel gentleness and softness. It breaks your heart to think he's felt anything else.

"Nothin' to be sorry for," he says, overlapping your hand with his, "But thank you, Y/N."

"Make you a deal," you say.

"What's that?" JJ asks.

"Any time things feel like a lot, you can come find me and bring me out here. I need a surf instructor after all. Any time you need to clear your head and need an excuse, I'm here."

JJ smiles, nuzzles his cheek into your hand, "Thanks, Y/N." He takes your hand in his and runs his thumb over the back of your knuckles, "Can I tell you a secret?" He asks.

"Sure."

"I think that's why I pick fights with you like I do. Fighting with you...it's fun. And it pulls me out of my head. Distracts me."

You can't explain it, but his words make your stomach dip. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," JJ blushes again, ducks his head, "I just...it's fun. Isn't it?"

"It is," you admit, "I like fighting with you."

"But after all these years...." he sighs, "...sometimes I can't help but wonder..."

"Wonder?"

"If there might be something better...better than fighting."

The butterflies are back and you tilt your head to meet his eye, "Like?"

"You're my distraction, Y/N. Every bit as much as the waves are. You keep me grounded. It sounds stupid....but the reason I even still come to school at all is because I look forward to fightin' with you. I'm just sayin'....what if there was something more than fightin'."

"Can I tell you a secret?" You ask. JJ nods. "Sarah gives me so much shit for it, but fighting with you is one of my favorite parts of the day. I do look for you and go out of my way to yell at you for something. It's...it's fun, getting under each other's skin. I can't imagine you not being the fixture you've become in my life, JJ Maybank. I don't think I want to."

JJ takes a breath, the blush is back on his cheeks. You give his hand a squeeze.

"What would you want with a guy like me?" He asks and your heart clenches in your chest.

You let go of his hand and turn to face him, sitting up on your knees. "JJ Maybank," you say, gently scolding, "Don't you even think that. Not for a second."

"Look at me though," he says with a broken sigh, "I'm fucked up, Y/N. Just look at my face..."

You interrupt with a press of your lips to his cheek. JJ freezes, you hear the softest little gasp escape. You press another kiss to another bruise, and another. The bruise on his cheekbones, the cut above his eyebrow, the purple blooming along his eyesocket. JJ is almost shaking as you press a final kiss to the cut on his swollen lip.

"Jesus, Mama..." he says, and it sounds like a prayer.

"That a better distraction than fighting?" You ask with a smirk of your own.

"Fuck yes," his voice is thick and wrecked as you sit back, card your hand through the blonde bangs sticking to his forehead.

"I think so too," you say. "What do you say we retire our title of mortal enemies, hmm?"

"Yes please."

You can't help but giggle at the desperation in his voice, "What other title should we give each other then?" You ask.

JJ rolls his eyes, the smile on his face big enough to split him in two, "You're really gonna make me say it?"

"Mmhmm."

JJ shakes his head helplessly, "Alright, fine. You win. Girlfriend?"

"Boyfriend," you say back.

JJ ducks his head to hide the blush staining his cheeks. His smile has somehow grown even bigger. Then, as if finally getting a handle on himself, he reaches up and pulls you towards him, hand at the nape of your neck.

"You know what this means, right?" He asks, lips hovering above yours.

"Tell me."

"I get to kiss you any time I like."

"Well you god-damn better," you can't help but grin.

JJ chuckles lowly, before capturing your lip in his. The kiss is unlike any other kiss you've ever experienced; those sweet, shy kisses on doorsteps after dates to dances and diners. This is different. There's a desperation there, a hunger, and a hope all in one. JJ nips at your lip as the two of you pull apart.

"Fuck," he says on a sigh.

"Better than fighting?" You ask again.

"So much better."

You press another kiss to his cheek, "I wish I could kiss away every bit of pain, JJ."

"This?" JJ points to the bruise on his cheek, "Aint nothin'. I'd walk through fire and back for one kiss from you."

"I'd never ask you to," you say, cupping his cheek in your palm again. "You know what this means, right?"

"What's that, Mama?"

"I get to kiss you any time I like. No walking through fire required."

"You're letting me call you Mama," JJ says, reaching a hand out to twist a strand of your hair around his finger.

"Boyfriend privileges and all that," you say.

"I like the sound of that," JJ grins, "Tell me, darlin'. What other privileges do these new titles come with?"

You shake your head with a laugh, "You'll just have to see."

The sun is starting to set and JJ sighs, "Guess I better be gettin' you home."

"Pry should."

"And Big John is grilling out for us tonight, so I should get back for that."

"You gonna be okay?" You ask.

"Of course," he says, "I'm JJ Maybank. When am I ever not okay?"

You sigh and shake your head as he holds out his hand and helps you to your feet. "Besides," he says as the two of you start the walk to the car, "I get to look forward to seeing my girl tomorrow."

You can't help but blush. JJ holds the truck door open for you and you slide in. He goes around to the drivers side and hops in, turning the key in the ignition.

"Do girlfriends get AUX privileges?" You ask, reaching for the cable hanging down by your feet.

"Fuck no," JJ laughs, snatching it away, "I've heard the shit you and Sarah blast from her convertible. Girlfriend or not, Taylor Swift is not touchin' these speakers."

"But...girlfriend privileges."

"Girlfriend privileges nothin'," JJ grins, backing the truck out, "Girlfriend privileges mean I'm pressin' you up against this truck and kissin' you breathless before I tell you goodnight. It does not mean blasting Taylor Swift in ol' Daisy Mae."

"You named your truck Daisy Mae?"

"What?"

"That's more egregious than any music I could play from my phone."

"Don't you be talkin' shit about Daisey Mae, okay?"

"Stupid ass name," you say with a smile.

JJ lifts his middle finger at you with a smile equally as big.

"Alright," you say, "question."

"What's that?"

"Just because we've retired the title of mortal enemies doesn't mean we still can't fight, right?"

"Not the fun fights anyway," JJ grins, "Those fights I can always just shut you up by kissin' you."

"Menace."

"Always."

You shake your head, laughing and lean your head against his shoulder.

"Oh I am in so much trouble," he says, handing you the AUX cord, "You've already got me wrapped around your finger. You always have."

You press another kiss to his cheek, taking his hand in yours. You pull up These Arms of Mine by Otis Redding.

"And you've got me wrapped around yours," you say.

JJ grins, lifting your hand to kiss your knuckles. The two of you drive the rest of the way to your house in silence, your head on his shoulder and Otis' voice crooning from the crackling stereo. JJ Maybank was officially now no longer the bane of your existence, and maybe Sarah Cameron hadn't been that off-base after all. All you knew in this moment though was you'd spent the last ten years being driven crazy by JJ Maybank, and you'd gladly be driven crazy by him the next ten.

[7s3ven]

LAST CHRISTMAS. tom riddle

( master list )

IN WHICH… Tom can’t fall in love, he shouldn’t be able to fall in love. So why does he love Y/N L/N with her yellow robes, doe eyes, and her obsession with snow so much that he’d kill anyone in his path to get to her?

Minor warnings : Not proof-read, kind of long, dark Tom Riddle, somewhat yandere

—

“It may be hard to believe, but there was a time where Voldemort loved someone. He was young… barely eighteen. He loved her so much… that he would kill for her. So he did. He killed every boy interested in her and every girl who tormented her. And then he turned on her. Nobody knows what happened to sweet Y/N L/N. Maybe he killed her, maybe she got away… or maybe she stayed with him and let him taint her heart.

He was a boy who knew nothing of real love while she was a girl who wanted nothing but that.”

Tom couldn’t fall in love. He physically shouldn’t be able to fall in love. He wouldn’t let himself to fall in love. He would not allow himself that wretched moment of weakness his peers all seemed to suffer from.

Every day it was always, “Riddle, will you go out with me?” His answer was always no yet these lovesick girls never learned. They all flocked to him like annoying seagulls to a single, lonely chip.

“Excuse me,” A hand suddenly tapped Tom’s shoulder. He turned around, almost glowering at the girl in front of him. Before he could reject her, she spoke up. “You, uh, left this, Riddle.”

Of course, she knew his name but he didn’t know her’s.

She held out Tom’s precious diary and he was quick to snatch it out of her grip. He observed it, narrowing his eyes slightly before he subtly nodded. “Thank… you…” The words felt strange rolling off his tongue. He had never thanked anybody. He hesitated because he didn’t know her name.

“Y/N L/N.” She uttered, smiling.

“What?”

“My name is Y/N L/N. You seemed confused… so I thought you didn’t know me.”

Tom’s eyes flickered to the prefect badge pinned proudly to her robe. He arched an eyebrow. “You… you’re a prefect?” He questioned. He had never seen her at the meetings, which was strange because he noticed everyone.

“Yeah. Head girl.” Y/N beamed again, hardly offended by the fact that Tom didn’t know her despite them being counterparts.

Tom found it strange how he didn’t know her. He was supposed to considering she was the head girl. Tom observed her, staring at Y/N’s Hufflepuff uniform and the yellow ribbons intertwined with her braided hair.

“Right.” Tom muttered, clearing his throat.

“It was a pleasure talking to you, Riddle. I’ll see you around.” Y/N was the first to walk away. Tom wasn’t used to that because normally, he did that. He stared at Y/N’s back, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

Everybody was frightened by Tom’s cold demeanour, but not Y/N. She had approached him so casually without a second thought.

Tom shook his head, sighing under his breath. “Hufflepuffs.”

The next time Tom stumbled upon Y/N was when she had been cornered by three Slytherin girls. He recognized the ringleader as the girl he had rejected last week.

“Stay away from Tom.” The silver-haired girl grumbled, invading Y/N’s personal space. Y/N didn’t seem at all phased. She just smiled as she stared into the girl’s bright blue eyes.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Y/N questioned, innocently tilting her head to the side.

“Just stay away from Tom, got it?” The Slytherin girl repeated, her glare hardening.

Tom cleared his throat from behind the trio, making his presence known. “Is there a problem here?” He asked, arching an eyebrow.

The trio of Slytherin girls instantly recognized his voice. “Riddle!” The ringleader exclaimed, jumping. She nervously smiled. “We were just helping L/N here. She needed help with… uh…” She trailed off, her eyes wildly darting around.

“Her makeup!” One of her friends piped up, “She likes a boy and wanted our help!”

The third girl quickly nodded and grabbed Y/N by the shoulders, pushing her forward. “Isn’t she pretty? Imagine how pretty she would be with makeup!”

Tom’s stare hardened. He glanced down at Y/N, his lips pressed into a thin line. “She’s pretty enough as is.” He spoke, reaching out to grasp a strand of Y/N’s hair. “Well, I’ll be needing her. Prefect business, you understand?” Tom ripped Y/N from the girl’s grasp and led her down the long, winding hallway.

“Do you always have to deal with those pests?” Tom questioned, looking at Y/N once more.

“They aren’t that bad. They were worse in first year.” She smiled but that didn’t comfort Tom.

“You shouldn’t let them push you around. I’ll talk to them and make sure they never bother you again.” Tom furrowed his eyebrows.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Y/N uttered, but Tom didn’t hear her. He was already walking off, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Y/N frowned. “I hope he doesn’t kill them… he looks like the type.”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head. “No. He wouldn’t murder anybody. He’s the head boy.” She walked off in the opposite direction, quietly humming under her breath, unknown to the horrors Tom was committing with his damn pet snake.

Y/N strutted into the Great Hall, ready to eat dinner and gossip about useless things with her friends. But when she approached her companions, she was overwhelmed with their questions.

“Y/N, did you hear about the attacks?”

“I heard those three Slytherin bullies were targeted.”

“Well, they kind of deserved it. It’s not like they’re fully dead. They’re just stone.”

Y/N sat down, confused. “What happened?” And asked, tilting her head to the side.

Bella was the first to explain. “You know those three Slytherin girls who are always picking on you? They were all found turned to stone.” She looked around to make sure nobody was listening before she leaned forward and whispered, “The professors say it wasn’t a hex so they don’t really know what to do.”

“Oh… that’s…” Y/N couldn’t muster up any words. She glanced over at Tom, who was drinking out of his golden goblet. He locked eyes with her and his lips twisted into a cruel smirk.

“Did they find the perpetrator?” Y/N questioned, looking at Bella.

“No. I heard a few students talking about some sort of chamber but I wasn’t close enough to hear anything else.”

For the rest of dinner, Y/N was distracted by the way Tom kept glancing over at her. She felt a sick feeling in her stomach and she tried to convince herself that Tom played no part in this whole mess.

“I think I’m going to go to bed early.” Y/N stiffly smiled as she drank the last of her water from her cup.

Y/N quickly stood up, speed-walking out of hall. She heard someone following her and she spun around, hoping it wasn’t Tom. Luckily, it wasn’t.

It was a Gryffindor boy with messy black hair and stunning blue eyes. He grinned at her. “Y/N L/N, right?”

She slowly nodded.

“Listen, I’ve been interested in you for a while and I don’t want you to feel inclined to accepting my offer, but I would love if you would come to Hogsmeade with me.”

Y/N awkwardly smiled. “Ah, sorry, I’m a little busy. Maybe next time?” She suggested, trying to brush past the boy. But he grasped her wrist

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“You heard her the first time. She’s busy.” Tom had walked to stand behind the boy, towering over him with a mean glare.

“Right.” The Gryffindor thickly swallowed, “I’ll be on my way, then.” He scurried off, almost tripping over his robes.

“You didn’t have to scare him off.” Y/N murmured as she spared Tom a look before resuming her walk to the Hufflepuff common room. Tom followed after her, which unsettled Y/N.

She should have been placed in Gryffindor with how brave she was to eventually confront Tom. “What did you do with those Slytherin girls?” She softly inquired.

She heard Tom chuckle. “I didn’t do anything. Trust me.”

“It’s a bit hard to trust you when you smirked at me like that.” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows.

“I never touched those girls. I merely gave them a warning before leaving them. And next thing I know, they were turned to stone. Some Ravenclaw first year found them.”

Y/N stared into Tom’s eyes, looking for any indication that he was lying. It was a bit hard to read him considering he barely had any emotions. But there was a gleam in his usually blank eyes.

“Okay.” She whispered, despite not fully believing him.

Tom had ended up walking Y/N to her common room and she politely nodded. “Good night, Riddle.”

“Call me Tom. Good night, Y/N.”

Rowan, the poor Gryffindor boy who had asked Y/N out, was the next target. Though, he wasn’t found turned to stone. His body was entirely mutilated and Y/N took pity on the third year girl who had discovered his body in the bathroom.

Y/N sat with Bella, pushing her food around on her silver plate. On instinct, she glanced at Tom. He had that same infuriating smirk and this time, he slightly raised his goblet. His actions made his friends laugh.

“I’m leaving for class early. See you at lunch, Bella.”

Her friend hummed, too busy staring at a boy from across the room to notice Y/N’s uneasiness.

Y/N stiffened as she saw Tom stand up out of the corner of her eye. She tried to speed walk away but he easily caught up to her.

“What did you do do him?” She asked, referring to Rowan. He had no enemies and Tom was the only person Y/N could think of. After all, the head boy hadn’t seemed too pleased to see Y/N talking with Rowan.

“Accusing me again? There’s an actual murderer on the loose and instead, you’re pointing fingers at me?” Tom let out a small scoff while Y/N silently stared up at him. “I’m head boy. Do you really think I would decapitate a body?”

“Nobody said anything about the body being decapitated.”

“I saw it. As head boy, I was at the scene.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes while Tom mentally cursed at his mistake. Hufflepuffs were usually easy to gaslight, but not Y/N. And that annoyed Tom.

“They’re still observing the body but I wouldn’t be walking alone if I were you. This attacker seems to be targeting people who are,” Tom took a step closer to Y/N, “All alone.”

Tom cunningly grinned as he shrugged. “Enjoy your walk, Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t want to take any chances with Tom since he was her prime suspect. But if he was the murderer, why wasn’t she his next victim? She was alone and the castle was deserted. Now would be the perfect time.

Tom chuckled as the cogs in Y/N’s head started moving. He was going to strut away from the Hufflepuff but Y/N was quick to grab his sleeve.

“Walk me to class.” She demanded. For the first time in a long time, Tom felt his cheeks heat up. And strange enough, he felt a jolt of lightning pass through his body when Y/N’s grasped him.

He concealed those odd emotions. “With pleasure.”

Potions was their first class. Usually, Gryffindors and Slytherins were put together but this year the school decided to mix it up. Classes were now decided on a student’s academic record. And lucky for Tom, all of his courses were with Y/N. Never had he been so glad that one of his peers had almost beaten him for the spot of top student.

Y/N tried to sit away from Tom but he dragged her to a table near his friends. She nervously sat down, tapping her foot against the floor.

She could feel someone burning holes into her back with their glare and Y/N looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with a Ravenclaw girl. She sneered at Y/N.

The H/C-haired teenager slowly turned her head to look at her textbook, but her peace was short lived when a cauldron came crashing down on her head.

It hit her with such force that her head jolted forward and slammed against the wooden table. A sickening crack was heard and the class went silent.

Tom and his friends were the first to react. Avery lifted Y/N and helped her sit up. Her nose was heavily bleeding and the crimson liquid dribbled down her chin, staining the pages of her new and crisp book.

Malfoy held his hands underneath her chin to catch most of the blood while Avery dapped at Y/N’s nose with the sleeve of his robe.

Rosier grabbed the cauldron, slamming it back down in front of the Ravenclaw. At that very moment, Professor Slughorn entered.

He observed the bizarre scene, effortlessly piecing everything together. “Tom, my boy, please escort Miss L/N to the hospital wing. You may bring Mr Avery and Mr Malfoy with you. Rosier, Mulciber, Nott, Lestrange, I want a full explanation of what happened.” Slughorn turned to the Ravenclaw, “Miss Li, I will also require your explanation.”

Hyehi Li, the girl who had thrown the cauldron at Y/N’s head, was gone. She was found by the Ravenclaw Quidditch up on the roof, impaled onto a sharp spear. The students of Hogwarts were growing restless. Parents wanted to collect their kids but the murderer could be anybody, staff or student. Therefore, it was imperative that the professors worked fast to track the attacker down.

Y/N sat in her dorm, thinking to herself. All of the people attacked were connected to her. The three Slytherin girls had bullied her, Rowan had somewhat flirted with her, and Hyehi had injured Y/N. And Tom was there to witness all three incidents.

There wasn’t anybody else who could be doing these things. Y/N was also aware of Tom’s fascination with the dark arts.

It was Christmas Eve and since the school couldn’t technically hold the students in the castle over the holiday, they had no choice but to let them go.

Y/N’s parents were on a trip right now, so she had to stay behind. Not many students wanted to stay at Hogwarts, but Y/N knew Tom and his posse would be roaming the halls.

She was nervous to walk out of the common room, but she was hungry, even at this time when it was close to midnight, and the kitchen was so close.

“L/N!” A voice Y/N didn’t recognize suddenly called out. She turned around, watching a Slytherin boy jog towards her. She recognized him as a year below her.

“Ah… you shouldn’t be talking to me, it’s not safe.” Y/N had come to the conclusion that any boy or girl who teased or flirted with her was in serious trouble if Tom ever found in.

“Why? I just wanted to say happy Christmas Eve. And thanks for helping me with my homework this year. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Y/N stiffly smiled and nodded her head. “You’re welcome. Good bye.” Y/N wanted to leave but the boy blocked her path.

“Do you have anybody to celebrate Christmas with? You’re always welcome in the Slytherin common room. Riddle seems to have taken a liking to you.”

Speak of the devil, Y/N could hear Avery’s loud laughs from just around the corner. And where Avery was, Tom and his friends were sure to follow.

Y/N’s eyes slightly widened. “Please leave me alone… for your sake.” She whispered, trying to brush past him. But the boy didn’t seem to sense the urgency in Y/N’s voice as he grabbed her shoulder just as Tom came into sight.

A feeling of dread overcame Y/N as Tom approached the pair. “Onyx.” He greeted the boy by the last name. “What business do you have with Y/N?”

Onyx, as oblivious as ever, smiled. “I was just thanking her for helping me. And I was going to invite her to spend Christmas in the Slytherin chamber.”

Tom narrowed his eyes as he slowly nodded. “… I see. We’ll have to finish decorating the tree then. Come on.” Tom guided Onyx with a firm hand on his back. Y/N’s breath trembled and finally having had enough of being connected to all the murders, she silently followed Tom and his friends and Onyx.

There was a loud bang and as Y/N peeked around the corner, she almost gasped. Avery, the supposed sweet boy who had helped her with her bloody nose, had just knocked Onyx out cold.

“Let’s get this over with quickly. I have some matters to attend to.” Tom pulled out his wand, pointing the tip at Onyx. “Avada Kedavra.” There was a blinding flash of green light and then all was still.

Y/N stumbled back. She quickly sprinted off, making sure to be quiet and not leave anything behind. She burst into the Hufflepuff common room and began to wildly knock on every door.

“Why is no one here?!” She exclaimed, pounding her fist against the wall. “The headmaster and Slughorn are gone too! And Dumbledore- Wait, I can tell Dumbledore!”

She rushed to the exit but crashed into a tall figure. She fell back, hitting her head.

“You didn’t think you would actually get away, did you?” It was just Tom this time. His friends were nowhere to be seen.

Y/N scrambled back but Tom easily outstretched a hand, grabbing her collar and pulling her up. “I got you a gift.” He said, handing Y/N a narrowly wrapped present as soon as the clock struck midnight.

“If it’s part of a body, I don’t want it.”

Tom merely smiled. “Open it and find out.”

Y/N opened the lid a tiny bit, jumping when she saw a pure white snake inside. It hissed and bared it’s sharp fangs at her.

“Sweet dreams, amour.” Tom uttered, stepping forward and knocking the present out of Y/N’s grasp. The box fell and the snake swiftly slithered over to Y/N’s ankle. “I love you.”

He harshly pressed his lips to Y/N’s just as the snake opened its mouth and sank its fangs into her flesh.

“Is this really the best way to do it?” Avery questioned as him and Lestrange pulled a wooden plank from their dorm floor. “We could just hide her dead body in a closet. Though, eventually, her corpse is going to rot and stink.”

Tom, from his position on his bed, tilted his head to the side. “Who said anything about her being dead?”

Nott arched an eyebrow and laughed. “She’s not actually alive, is she? Because stuffing her in there would be cruel.”

“Since when did you care about being cruel?” Tom retorted, “To be honest, I’m not actually sure whether she’s dead or not. I checked her pulse and there was none but her heart is still beating. It’s… strange. And fascinating.”

Tom’s lips curled into a smirk.

Y/N was shoved beneath the floor boards right next to Tom’s bed. He lay down, closing his eyes and listening to the dull thumping beat of Y/N’s heart.

All that happened last year. Y/N’s body was never found and Hogwarts lost a bright student. Tom’s friends could never hear Y/N’s heartbeat but Tom could.

He heard it at night when he was cramming in some late night study.

He heard it when he was kissing another girl in his bed and it reminded him of who his heart belonged to.

He heard it as he descended into a dark madness that not even Dumbledore could stop.

And he heard it as he yelled the very same spell he had yelled at Onyx on that fateful night at Harry Potter. Up in the castle, Y/N’s body still lay shoved deep under.

As Tom Riddle, now known as Voldemort, faded into nothing, he could hear Y/N’s heartbeat get louder and louder and he was reminded of what he had done to the sweet Hufflepuff.

That was her last Christmas and she had spent it under the floor, dead but not fully, never to be found or seen or heard from again.

“Last Christmas, I gave you my heart… but the very next day you stuffed it underneath the floorboards with the rest of my corpse until the sound of my heartbeat intensified your descent into madness.”

[misteria247]

So I'm going to ramble a bit cuz I've been noticing that there's a lot of split opinions on Timmy Turner that rage from people adoring him flaws and all to people thinking that he's a little shit. So I decided to throw in my thoughts cuz it's been awhile since I've analyzed a character and I've got some thoughts fam lol. Please don't take this personally cuz this is just my opinion.

I think one of the main reasons why Timmy gets such a mixed reaction from fans is because a lot of his actual story is played like a sitcom. It's not placed in a more serious way, though there are moments where it is, it's quickly glossed over. If you take away the sitcom setting and the attempts of comedy and whatnot you actually get a rather horrible reality for this 10 year old boy. And with it suddenly a lot of his actions and attitude makes a lot more sense.

Timmy when introduced is a 10 year old. He's a child but he's also old enough to know the basics of right and wrong. Much like any kid. He gets his fairy godparents, Cosmo and Wanda because he was deemed to be a child in need of help. This whole scenario is played for laughs and whatnot but like, Timmy's life is actually horrid. He's abused by his babysitter, is tormented by school bullies, is essentially harassed by his teacher and is neglected by his own parents. This is his every day life, from the moment he was old enough to understand this was what he was exposed to and forced to accept. In a way Timmy was forced to grow up a bit faster because of it but not to a point where he completely lost the magic of childhood. When you think about this in a more serious way, things start to click together more.

Timmy's behavior when he gets snappy or creates mischief is a way to get attention from his parents. It's not a good kind but it's something. Or when he acts cold and selfishly, while it could be chalked up to being a kid, I could also argue that he might have actually learned it. Cause who else in his life puts their wants and desires before others? Who else doesn't think about the consequences of their actions and how it'd effect others? Who else ignores other people's thoughts and feelings when it comes to things?

His parents.

Timmy's parents do this shit constantly. From leaving him with abusive babysitters, to not really interacting with him, to making jabs about how their dreams died when he was born to a bunch of other shitty things. They forget to feed him and always criticize him, they're always jumping at the chance to essentially get away from him. All these things are things Timmy's witnessed and has been on the receiving end of for a decade. And never once does his parents really suffer any consequences. It's a known fact that children watch their parents and absorb information from it. Timmy's behaviors can very well be behaviors he unintentionally learned from them. Which is so sad because whenever Timmy's not acting like this, it's quite clear that he's actually incredibly different.

It becomes clear that Timmy's actually incredibly kind.

There's so many moments where he shows his kindness. From lending Cosmo and Wanda to Tootie, to helping fairies in Fairy World to literally giving his fairies the baby they always wanted to saving the whole world several times with little hesitation. Timmy at his core is a kind boy, but due to his home life and its constant reminders of the people in his life not wanting him. (Hell there was a whole ass episode about the world being better if he hadn't been born, like can you imagine that, it's fucking awful-). So in a way Timmy hides that kindness and rarely shows it because of these things.

Which is why Cosmo and Wanda and eventually Peri are so fucking important.

Cosmo and Wanda from the very beginning where different from everyone else. These fairies while granting some reckless and dangerous wishes, have always had Timmy's best interests in mind. Cosmo and Wanda are the positive influences that Timmy desperately needs, the adults that he actually needs to help encourage and push him towards the right direction. Cosmo and Wanda are always in Timmy's corner, even when he's made a mistake, and are always there to catch him and remind him that he's loved and wanted. In one episode where Timmy sneaks into his godparents castle, at the end when they're putting the picture of Maryann back into the hall of infamy, Timmy's first reaction is to apologize and believe that because he'd made this one mistake that he'd end up there with the other bad kids. Only to immediately be told no, baffling Wanda and Cosmo with the very idea of it.

It's things like this that help Timmy grow and feel comfortable with making mistakes. Cuz what he thought isn't exactly a normal thing. They help Timmy in so many ways and grow to love him as their very own cuz when Timmy allows himself to be well himself he's a rather endearing kid. It's no surprise they get so attached.

There's a lot of other things that I've got in my noggin but I just wanted to say these things for the time being. Maybe I'll update on this later lol.

[hannie-dul-set]

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [8].

SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).

PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. swearing, vomit, heeseung is sick, tormenting said sick man, sex jokes, and loser hee backstory reveal. WORD COUNT. 3.8k.

NOTE. merry christmas. my gift for u all is the heeseung chapter. let's pretend that it's still summer for the sake of the fic yes thank u hope u enjoy.

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 8 — hot, drenched, and sweaty.

“I THINK HEESEUNG IS IN A FIGHT CLUB.” That unprompted statement catches the interest of all the four boys currently in the living room. Soobin looks up from his half-finished crocheted bonnet, Jake and Jay pause their game of scrabble, and Sunghoon drops a rubik’s cube on your face because you gallantly decided to use his lap as a pillow on the lounge sofa. 

“Oh god, I’m— I’m sorry,” he sputters out an apology. You take this as a sign to stop invading his space. “What do you mean though? Fight club? Heeseung?”

“Listen.”

You spring up from your position, sitting with a very determined look on your face which simply prompts their attention further. “Heeseung leaves the house at exactly 10 p.m. every Saturday night and comes back at like two in the morning. I asked him about is once, and all he said is that he’s doing ‘business,’ whatever the fuck that means. It’s suspicious as hell.” 

The only reason why you were up at 2 a.m. to catch him in the act in the first place is because one time, you challenged Beomgyu and Jake to a no-sleeping contest and those two are the most gullible and have the most money from the lot. Little did those suckers know that you slept for fifteen hours prior to challenging them. They dozed off at the thirty six hour mark while you were still awake enough to catch Heeseung sneaking into the house at the devil’s hour.

After that, you had more money in your bank account, and a new curiosity that’s begging to be satisfied.

“I think he’s in an underground fighting club,” you declare. “There’s no other reason.”

“No, no,” Jay contends. “It might be something else. He could be a stripper.”

A silent moment of consideration.

Then you all release a unified, “Nah.”

“Maybe it’s private,” says Sungoon. “What—whatever it is, it could be none of our business.”

He has a point, but you’re nosy and bored. So are Jake and Jay because turns out, today’s a Saturday, and you have nothing to do, and you’re acquitted from any charges of instigating things because it’s Jay who announces, “Should we follow him?”

You grin. Sunghoon doesn’t approve of your expression. “We should follow him.”

“I’ll keep a lookout.”

“Text us when he’s about to leave.”

“You got it.”

Thus starts your mission of finding out whether Heeseung is secretly an underground fighter or a stripper. Sunghoon refused to be a part of it, but Soobin wasn’t strong enough to deny your puppy dog eyes, so it’s you, him, Jake, and Jay who might be charged for stalking and invasion of privacy because the moment you get a signal from Jake that “the target is out of the house, over,” the four of you, willingly or otherwise, start to tail him.

It’s disconcertingly easy to follow Heeseung without him noticing the four not so discreet people lagging behind him. When he takes off on a bus, you quickly hail a taxi for the four of you to jump inside of and continue the trail. 

“I think—I think we should head back,” says Soobin, squeezing his arms against his torso because there are three of you cramped in the backseat. “The sky is glum. I think it’s gonna rain.”

“The sky is glum because it’s the fucking night. Mr. Sun has died. Wait, he just got off the bus. Let’s go, let’s go before we lose him!”

As you stalk down the sidewalk, you can’t help but feel a sense of deja vu because you swear you’ve crossed this same path before. You’ve been here before. You’re sure of it, and it’s not just because this area is just around your university, of which you haven’t stepped foot on since the beginning of summer and since living with Jake and his friends.

“Hey, he’s over there, he’s going to that cafe.”

Your deja vu is answered when the familiar facade of The Lounge shows up right before you. Heeseung enters the building. Sunghoon knew all along, that fucking rat. That’s why was so against this plot, that’s why he refused to tag along with you. “I’m going in,” says Jay. You postpone your revenge plan against Sunghoon for later and quickly follow behind Jay into the cafe. Once you enter however, it starts pouring.

The clear glass windows of the place get stained by an assault of raindrops. Crap. None of you brought an umbrella. “I knew it was going to rain…” Soobin laments, and you pat circles against his back to apologize for doubting him, further telling him that he has a knack for weather prediction and if he’s considering switching career paths.

“What now?” Jake asks.

“We can wait for the rain to stop or call Sunghoon to pick us up and bring us umbrellas,” you tell them. “For now, let’s find out what the fuck Lee Heeseung is up to here. This wasn’t part of any of our calculations.” The calculations being either violence or promiscuity. You didn’t make a lot of calculations.

The problem is, Heeseung is nowhere to be found. You end up ordering some drinks and food and decide to settle in a booth at the corner of the place so that you guys can have a full and complete view of the cafe’s entire interior, yet you still can’t find him, so you end up reminiscing the time Sunghoon dumped your lemonade on you which catapulted your hobby of messing with these guys because they become so nervous around you it’s funny.

“Did we enter the wrong building? Did he catch us tailing him and left through the back door?!” 

You doubt Jake’s presumptions, and you’re correct to doubt him because right at that moment, Heeseung finally shows his stupid fucking face.

Not only does he show his stupid fucking face— he shows his stupid fucking face on the mini stage in the other corner of the cafe with a freaking guitar. What? So he’s not an underground fighter? Heeseung leans into the mic and a singular “ah,” resounds from the speakers mounted on the walls, muting down the muffled sound of the rain outside in that single instant.

When Heeseung starts to play the instrument followed by the sound of his voice, the rain is forgotten entirely.

This is a surprise. This is unexpected.

“This is disappointing,” says Jay, and you snap your head at him with eyes wide in alarm and disbelief because what does he mean disappointing? Disappointing where? You’ve been living with an angel all this time and you didn’t know? 

“Yeah, it’d be cooler if he was in a fight club,” Jake adds, as if their friend isn’t putting the Billboard’s Hot 100 to shame right now. What kind of bullshit are they saying?

“Did you guys know he could sing like that?”

The three look at you, even Soobin, and respond with a yes, a nod, a hum. Your mouth gapes. But you don’t get why you’re surprised when these guys have known each other for years prior to you barging in unannounced— so, of course they know, of course you don’t, and in the midst of all this, your thoughts are interrupted by the sharp screech from the speakers, because Heeseung has stopped singing, and is instead now looking at your table, looking more alarmed than you.

You’re pretty sure your eyes met before he decided to bolt out of the cafe.

“Oh, he’s getting off stage. Maybe he’s going to greet u— why is he skipping our table? Why is he running outside? Hyung, wait!”

None of you end up chasing after him because it’s still pouring outside, and you can already predict what the aftermath of this is going to be. Thus concludes your mission of finding out whether or not Heeseung is secretly an underground fighter or a stripper, with the answer amounting to neither because Heeseung is a performer during The Lounge’s open mic nights, and you don’t get why he’s been acting so secretive about it all this time.

Heeseung wakes up feeling like shit. And not the regular kind of shit. He feels like Satan just chewed him up, only to spit him back out— slobber and the inferno’s of hell included because he’s sweating through his shirt, his blanket feels like a prison, but if he kicks it of, he gets attacked by cold flashes, so he’s in a sticky and uncomfortable limbo between overheating and freezing to fucking death.

His throat is dry. The only thing that escapes his throat is a guttural and inhuman rasp. He wouldn’t be this sick if he didn’t run out in the rain last night. 

Rather, he wouldn’t have ran out if you weren’t there last night.

Heeseung rolls to his side with a groan of pain and anguish, muffled against the pillow as a different kind of fevered heat washes over his face. Seriously. Why the fuck were you there last night? He could give less than two shits if his roommates find out that he sings Taylor Swift every weekend at The Lounge, but you— you’re a different story. Because he knows you’re gonna use this information against him somehow, just like how you like to fuck around with his friends.

Too much. Heeseung has always thought you were a bit too much for him. The time you chased Beomgyu around the house in the dress(?) Jay made is the only evidence he needs to affirm that.

Then again, maybe he shouldn’t have bolted out like that immediately after meeting your eyes. You already suspect that you gross him out (which, by the way, couldn’t be more wrong) for always running away from the threat of skin-to-skin contact with you. Why was it raining when it’s still summer, anyway? It’s like that night was a curse made especially for him.

He curls up further into a ball, hoping you just forget about it all and don’t question him about it.

Yet the very opposite happens because what interrupts his spiraling thoughts is the sound of your voice— already threatening a wave of torment.

“Oh, god. You’re in a worse state than I thought.”

Heeseung regrets springing up from his bed because his head immediately gets slammed by the recoil of a headache. “Why...why are you here?” he barely scratches out. You’re by the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes laced with pity. He didn’t even hear the door opening. 

“Jake told me about your illness,” you say, walking over to the side of his bed and Heeseung flinches back the moment you set yourself down on the mattress. “He said you have a chronic case of bitchless syndrome.

He looks at you. Your face is dead serious. Heeseung feels a drop of sweat trickling down his neck, then you break into that devious smile of yours and laugh out a grin.

“Kidding. Jake would never say that. He told me you were sick and needed someone to nurse you up, so here I am.”

Holy shit. Heeseung lets out a breath, nearly teetering off his bed to maintain a comfortable enough distance from your overwhelming presence. “Why—” some throat phlegm cuts him off. He lets out a violent cough before reclaiming his voice. “Why you? I—I mean, why did Jake ask you?”

“Ouch?” you remark. “No one else is around. Jake’s out hiking, apparently. Sunghoon’s covering someone’s shift. Beomgyu’s obviously still at his parents. Jay says he’s out on a mission, and Soobin left the house with a giant backpack. I was too afraid to ask. Anyway, I know my very physical presence disgusts you, but deal with it for now, you goober. You look like hell.”

“That’s— that’s not—” You take this opportunity to pull his sweaty blanket off in one swift movement. “That’s not it! You don’t— don’t disgust me, I’m just— you know—”

“I know, I just wanted to fuck with you.”

You’re grinning. You haphazardly fold the sheet before throwing it down to the foot of the bed, sitting over it. Heeseung feels the blood drain from his face— “Anyway, sit up and let me feel you up,” —only for the blood to shoot right back up and nearly knocks him out unconscious. “Feel your temperature up, perv. I’m not taking advantage of a sick man. C’mere, let me see how sick you are.”

Heeseung, however, still has enough marbles to quickly evade your incoming hand. He swerves to the right. You blink at him, arm reaching out to thin air, before trying again, only for Heeseung to swat your hand away with gritted teeth and fearing for his life. “S—sorry,” he chokes out. He sees the glint in your eyes. Crap. He shouldn’t have done that.

“For fuck’s sake, just let me check your temperature— Heeseung! What the hell?!”

“Just—just leave me alone!”

Earlier, Heeseung thought he was about to die. He didn’t think he had enough strength to fight for his life as he squirms underneath you on the bed, driven solely by the desire to protect his fucking pride because there’s no way in hell he’s letting you touch him when he’s all gross and sweaty and gross from the fever. There’s no way in hell he’s letting that happen.

“What are you—”

He yanks out his blanket from underneath you, causing you to roll of his bed and he throws the sheet over his red, hot, and burning face because holy fuck. Holy shit. That was a close call.

When he peeks out from the blanket, Heeseung instantaneously feels a threat to his life.

You’re glaring at him. You look like you want to skin him alive and he gulps and nudges himself away, ass nearly falling off the bed when you get up from the floor and dust yourself off. “Okay,” you huff. “Fine. Have it your way. Die from a heatstroke, or whatever the fuck. I’ll be downstairs if you need me, and if you do, I’m expecting you to get down on your knees and beg because every time you’ve swatted my hand away was an additional jab at my pride.”

Okay, damn. You leave his room, not without slamming his door close to emphasize your anger, and on top of feeling like absolute crap, Heeseung now also feels guilty as hell. 

“Fuck,” he rasps out. It’s not like he’s doing it out of malice, or hate, or because he thinks you’re a germ that he cannot touch, like you always accuse him with. Heeseung still remembers how his whole no touching quirk started: sixteen years-old, when Heeseung finally mustered the courage to hold his first girlfriend’s hand, only for her to laugh and joke and pull away while saying, “ew, gross. Your hand is all sweaty.”

Twenty-two year old Heeseung has been traumatized to this very day.

Especially now when he’s all disgusting and icky and very much ew and gross because of his fever. Stupid, he knows, but the last thing he’d want to see is a disgusted grimace from your face the moment the back of your hand presses against his damp and sticky, sickness-induced forehead. However, it seems like he’s been inflicting to you the very injury he’s been trying to protect himself by constantly avoiding the threat of contact of your skin against his.

Stupid. It’s really stupid. 

But he can’t avoid dehydration by simply ignoring the dryness of his mouth. With much struggle, Heeseung forces himself out of the bed, despairing the amount of stairs he has to climb down— and the suggestion of calling for you help does tease his brain for a split second, but decides against it with a shake of his head as he continues the awful trip to the living room, body weighing thirty times heavier, and skull feeling like it’s about to crack itself open.

The problem is, his skull does almost end up getting cracked open. Because as he’s finally nearing the bottom floor, he misses a step, causing him to hit the ground with a harsh thud.

“Ugh,” he grunts, pushing himself with his forearms, but he stops, nearly face planting into the floor once more because you’re there, you’re walking up to him, looking down at him, and holding a cold and refreshing glass of water above his head like some sort of fucked up display of powerplay against a sick and thirsty man.

“Need any help?” you hum. 

“I’m fine,” Heeseung tries once more to get up only to feel the nausea rise up to his head, and he stops, pauses, and decides that the floor is more comfortable after all. He looks up at you. “Can I...can I get a sip from your glass?”

There’s a glint in your eyes. You crouch down. “Sorry, what was that?”

Are you enjoying this? Do you like watching him in pain? (Likely answer is yes because you yourself have admitted that you enjoy their suffering and torment). “Water,” he rasps out. “Can I drink some of your water?”

“This?” You swirl the glass in your hand, ice clacking against the crystal, before taking a long, tortuous sip on the straw (why does it have a straw?) Heeseung swallows down his spit. “Say please,” you say with a smile. Heeseung chokes on said fucking spit and hacks out a cough because you’re fucking insane.

He feels his face grow hotter. And it’s definitely not just from the fever.

“P—please, give me some of your water.”

You don’t prolong his agony any further and hand him over the glass.

“Need any help getting up?” you ask as you watch him agonizingly sit up against the bottom steps and toss down the water into his throat in one shot as if it was at a company dinner. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand and feels your disappointed stare pricking his conscience. “I can’t help you unless you ask me to, Heeseung.”

He frowns, deflating. “But I’m all gross and sweaty.”

The last thing he expects you to do is to roll your eyes at him and stand up with an arm stretched out. 

And the next thing he knows is that you’re lugging him over to the couch, an arm around his waist, his around your shoulder, and you set him down the cushions with a grunt. “Jeez, I’m not made for manhandling men,” you say, very dubiously. “Lie down.” And when he doesn’t lie down, wide-eyed and unresponsive, you poke his forehead and he tips back, falling into the couch.

What…what is going on...

“You know, I’m very tempted to ask you to take your shirt off just to laugh at your reaction, but you actually look like you’re about to die, so I decided against it. Aren’t I sweet?” 

You’re back with a basin and some towels (when did you disappear?) and Heeseung’s brain starts malfunctioning, growing dizzier and dizzier by the second when you touch his jaw, damp towel wiping off the sweat coating his face and neck and he feels his throat tightening. “Christ. I think your temp is over forty degrees, my guy,” you say, squeezing the towel over the basin. “Hello? Heeseung? What the hell, did you catch Sunghoon’s disease? Are you unable to talk to me now, too?”

“It’s—it’s not that,” he chokes out. He’s about to justify himself, but you press your palm against his forehead, cutting off all the oxygen pipes leading up to his brain, and he feels like passing the fuck out.

Shit. Shit. Holy shit. 

“Ah,” you say. “You’re not running away.”

He’s not. He’s not running away. But he feels a different sort of problem coming up.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

You blink at him. This doesn’t help his case at all.

“Wow, this is an upgrade,” you say from the other side of the bathroom door while Heeseung pukes his guts out into the toilet. Heavy metal playing from his phone is trying to block the noises out. He’s heaving over the bowl and wants to kill himself from embarrassment. “Now my very presence makes you vomit. I’m sorry for everything so far.”

There’s a flush. The music stops. Heeseung cracks the door open and you pass him a glass of water without some bedroom-esque powerplay this time. “Seriously, why did you run off into the rain last night? Look where it got you.” It’s a shocker that you haven’t told him he’s gross yet. You’re standing there in front of the bathroom and in front of the mess of his post-vomit presence, and all you’re doing is looking at him in worry. 

“I wasn’t expecting you guys to be there,” he says, still sounding like death, and you take the now empty glass from him and head over to the kitchen, pointing at his makeshift deathbed on the couch. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to give Mariah Carey a run for her money, either.” After you place the glass into the sink, you’re back to the living room. He’s down on the sofa, eyelids heavy, unable to say or do anything when you push back his hair to place a damp towel on his forehead. “Like damn, I knew you guys have known each other for a while now, but I totally felt like an outsider when I was the only one surprised to hear you sing.”

You’re not making fun of him. You don’t make a comment about how sticky his skin feels or how gross his sweat-drenched shirt is.

“I like your voice. Too bad it sounds like shit right now, but you should let me hear you again once you feel better.” The doorbell rings. “Oh, right, I ordered some porridge. You can feed yourself, right? Hold on, let me get it.”

He hears your footsteps padding across the floor, unable to find the strength to open his eyes as the coolness of the cloth seeps into his forehead. Heeseung has always thought you were a bit too much— case in point, everything that just happened and all the other times you’ve teased, tormented, and actively tortured to the point of tears all the inhabitants of this god forsaken house. 

Yet it is also your excessive nature that has let Sunghoon speak more than five words around you, that has stopped Beomgyu from hermitting in his room twenty-four-seven, that has helped Soobin and Jay in two very important instances this summer, and has allowed Jake to offer you a spot in their lives after leaving that room on the third floor empty for a good two years.

“Fuck, I can’t believe they left me behind with a sick man when I can barely even take care of myself.”

You’re back. He opens his eyes and tries to lift himself up but his body is way too heavy. “Uh,” he says. “Can you…please…open the container for me?” He doesn’t miss your amused fucking grin when he mumbles out the please.

“Ah. Open up.”

Heeseung has always felt you were too much. Maybe it’s his fever talking, maybe it’s not, but maybe too much exactly what he needs right now.

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[georgeclarkewifey]

Inconvenience | g. clarke

Chapter 1 - Moving out

Word Count: 1.2K

summary: time for Noa to get out of her apartment, with the assistance of Mr Christopher Dixon

Warnings: extremely mild angst / sad undertones

noamurphy

liked by chrismd10, arthurtv and 10,373 others

noamurphy no bc why is packing the worst

comments open

chrismd10 you haven’t finished packing?

⮑ noamurphy perhaps not

arthurtv you’re moving in an hour you do realise?

⮑ noamurphy yes very aware thank you. and it’s more like in five minutes and not 1 hour

⮑ arthurtv so stop replying and get packing

fan1 omg is she moving in with the boys??

⮑ noamurphy never they’re too messy x

⮑ arthurtv I refute this comment

⮑ noamurphy okay lawyer

⮑ glambyflo god i can't wait for you to be here xx

⮑ noamurphy can't wait to see you!!

fan2 praying this means more Noa content with the boys

⮑ fan3 please!!! just having her occasionally appear in Chris’ videos isn’t enough

gkbarry_ everyone shut up my girl is moving to London

⮑ noamurphy all for you babe x

maxbalegde I need to meet you immediately as soon as you’ve moved in

⮑ noamurphy consider it done x

Noa felt on the verge of crying. On the one hand, she knew this was exactly what she wanted, moving out of her cramped apartment and away from her tormenting job, to a significantly better apartment and a small position at her dream architecture firm. Still, it was all very terrifying.

The move from Jersey to Edinburgh for university was hard enough, followed by a slightly rushed decision to do a masters in Cambridge meant that Noa never really felt settled wherever she went. So, when an apartment in the same building in which her childhood friends Arthur and Chris lived became available, she jumped at the chance. It wasn’t that her apartment was bad, it just didn’t feel like home - as hard as she tried, her room felt more like a dorm and office rolled into one, with plans and building ideas scattered around.

She rubbed her face, trying to stave of the feelings of exhaustion as more books were piled into one of the many half filled moving boxes. Regretting the four hours of sleep the night before, Noa reached to the side to grab her can of Monster, cursing when she found it empty.

"Knock knock! It's you're favourite person!" a voice called in the hallway, followed by the small pitter-patter of hobbit feet.

Noa rolled her eyes and stood up, grimacing at how her joints cracked as she stretched. "Either Arthur has dramatically shrunk, or something isn't right here."

Chris chuckled as he pulled Noa in for a hug, his eyebrows raising as he took in her state. "I see you've had an ample amount of sleep."

She chuckled, turning away from him to start closing the lids on the packing boxes. "You know I thrive off practically no sleep. That's how I did A Levels. And most of university." Noa shrugged.

"I'm aware. So how much packing have you got left to do? Because I'd preferably want to be on the road before it gets too busy." Chris asked, nervously glancing at his watch.

"Calm your tits Dixie we’ll be fine.” Noa grinned, walking into her cardboard box of a bedroom to grab her last couple of things. “But thank you though, I appreciate the help.”

Chris smiled, as he began stacking boxes in the hallway. “You’re welcome Noa, plus now that we’re living in the same building, I can just borrow all your stuff. And your food.”

“I thought the four of you were good at cooking? At least, when you have the right utensils and ingredients.”

“You weren’t the one who had to try those pizzas.” Chris shivered, trying to suppress the memories. “So it’s just these boxes yeah?”

“Sure is!” Noa called, emerging from the bedroom with a backpack and duffel bag. “One of the pros of renting a furnished place, don’t have to move all the furniture when you leave.”

“Are you gonna miss it?”

“Jesus no the mattress was horrible.”

“Not the furniture you idiot, the place in general.”

Noa shrugged as she did one last sweep of the kitchen, checking that she hadn’t left anything behind. “It was nice, but it just felt like the right time to move on.”

Chris nodded, picking up one of the lighter looking boxes, helping Noa ferry them into the hall.

As he grabbed the last box from the living room, curiosity got the better of him and he had a quick peek inside (Noa had written a note on the box telling him to specifically not look). His heart tightened at the sight of the blue football boots inside, mud streaks and grass stains still evident across soles and laces. The leather was deeply creased and the colour was worn around the eyelets of the laces, they used to be used frequently, but the small layer of dust that had collected on them proved that they’d been hidden away for a while.

Rifling around in the box more, he found the matching shin pads, as well as a collection of dog eared photos. Chris smiled fondly, holding the Polaroid up to the light so he could clearing see the people in the image.

It was himself, Noa and Arthur as kids - all grinning at each other. Noa’s hair was pulled up into a ponytail, which was once probably neat, but in the moment it was a mess, flyaways everywhere and her baby hairs sticking to her forehead. Arthur and Chris looked significantly younger, baby faces prominent, with a definitive lack of facial hair. Chris felt his eyes water with emotion, remembering the ecstasy of the moment. Even as an adult, the unbridled joy of seeing someone you cared for win their football league was contagious.

Though he couldn’t help but sigh sadly, knowing how much everything had changed.

“Christopher! I specifically wrote a note on that box for you not to rummage through that!” Noa sighed, taking it from his hands and repacking it quickly.

“Why not?”

“Because you’d get all like…this.” She replied, gesturing her arms up and down at him.

“You just gestured to all of me.” Chris said indignantly, screwing his face up in confusion.

“I’m aware.” Noa answered, pulling the front door open with a grunt, pushing some boxes with her left foot to hold it open. “Now let’s get this show on the road yeah?”

“You’re not even gonna acknowledge it?”

“Acknowledge what Chris?”

“Don’t do this Noa, c’mon.” He sighed, moving to block her view of the boxes that she was busying herself with. “You’ve still got those boots.”

“Sure do.” She replied shortly, piling a small valuables box on top of one marked ‘kitchen - don’t drop’. “Got all my football stuff in there.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Noa huffed. “What’s left to talk about? We’ve talked about it many times, I think we’ve covered everything. And it was five years ago Chris.”

Chris raised his eyebrows, not convinced. “Okay, okay, but if you want to talk, me and Arthur are here.”

“Very aware of that, thanks.”

author speaks: welcome to the first proper chapter! Hope you enjoyed it :)

[alipeeps]

Hah!! I knew it!! (I'm onto your storytelling tricks now GJM!!)

Yeeeah you coulda acted a little quicker though Zhuo Yichen... like before Pei Sijing got thrown into a pillar... (although on second thoughts, no, fuck her traitorous ass, as you were Zhuo Yichen, you're good....)

Oh god, the angst of it all...

If he were to die, the burden would just be passed to someone else. He would be condemning someone else to the pain and self-loathing that he feels.

Oh dang, the bottle he drinks from all the time is a liquid that helps suppress malicious energy!! He's literally dosing himself all day every day to try and stay in control!!

Shit, he is visibly shaking with effort, struggle to keep even a smidgen of control, and begging Ying Zhao to kill him before it's too late

Wait, what's grandpa gonna do? Why's he telling Ying Lei goodbye?!!

Did he... did he just fucking sacrifice himself to help suppress Zhu Yan?! Did he put his... spirit?... into Zhu Yan to help suppress the malicious qi?

That might save everyone's lives but jfc that is NOT going to help Zhu Yan's guilt/self-loathing problem!!

Oh GOD the usually carefree and silly Ying Lei outright SOBBING over his grandpa is fucking killing me!

Good god, his FACE. He looks happy at first... I guess that the blood moon is over and he is in control? But then he looks up and sees... sees the aftermath... of what HE has done...

My poor fucking boy. He is so tormented. 😭

He is indeed grandpa

So they've got a month where the malicious qi won't affect him...

I'm still not sure I understand what it is he's done to himself to get those scars? Was he being literal about lightning strikes? And secluding himself *after* the blood moon... why? To let the malicious qi levels lessen?

God the visuals of this show!!

Sure ya do buddy.

Why are you no match for Li Lun? I thought you were badass demon? Oooh wait up though... the subs on iQiyi said "I'm no match for Li Lun"... but the subs on the my downloaded file say "I can't kill Li Lun". Which is it? Because one is can't as in not able to... and the other might mean can't as in can't bring myself to...

Oh wait what? It can?

Oh god Ying Lei's grief has me genuinely crying.

No she hasn't, they're having to take turns at the scenic moping spot and Zhu Yan had it most of the night...

Yeah you DESERVE to be hated girl cos Zhu Yan didn't have a choice... you did. He was literally being controlled by malicious energy. Regardless of what Chongwu camp used to get you to spy for them, you made the choice to.

WHO? Who should have almost completed his great mission by now? Cos that did not sound like you were talking about Zhao Yunzhou there...

I STG if you fuckers pull the rug out from under me by making Xiao Bai be a fucking spy too I will cut a bitch...

Aaaaand the next scene jumps straight to Xiao Bai. Don't you do it. Don't you fucking dare!!

Oooh they've somehow all magically got furry winter clothes now...

Oh dang, my boy's had a mountain god makeover.

Awww he's leaving the gang to stay there?

Oh god damn don't give the magic travel device to the fucking spy. She'll land you all straight into the middle of Chongwu camp instead of where you want to go...

Yeeeeeaaaah that ain't all it means mate... 😂

They're all having protracted heartfelt goodbyes... and where is my poor Zhu Yan?

Group hug!! For everybody except the Great Demon Zhu Yan... 😭

Ugh that was an emotional rollercoaster and I am exhausted.

[hottpinkpenguin]

Nighttime

Tommy Shelby X Fem!Reader WC: 1380 Content warnings: PTSD, drug use, alcohol use, mentions of war Summary: When your brother, Daniel "Danny Whizz-bang" Owens, comes back a broken man from WWI, Tommy Shelby is the only one who seems able to put him back together. And the more Tommy helps your brother, the more you realize he's helping you, too. Author's Note: First time writing for the incomparable Tommy Shelby and the PB boys! Thoughts on a part 2, anyone??

Nights like these made the dark parts of you wish that Daniel hadn’t come home from the War. Nights when he couldn’t remember your face, when he got so lost in the bottom of a bottle or the smoke of his pipe that even you couldn’t find him anymore. The brother Daniel was when he’d left in ‘14 hadn’t come home four years later. Most times, sunlight and a hard day’s work help him hide that fact well enough. Nighttimes were the hardest. Especially starless, rainy nights like this one. Something about the rain reminded Danny of the dark tunnels where his innocence had died. It’s always night in the tunnels, he told you. The sounds of his pathetic whimpering from the room next door fractured the ice you’d been forced to pack around your heart to keep life together. 

Yet, nights like these were the only times you saw Thomas Shelby. So, in some ways, nights like these made the darker parts of you grateful that Daniel was as broken a man as he was. You were certain that, if it weren’t for the destructive acts of “Danny Whizz-bang”, you wouldn’t be fortunate enough to have the second-eldest Shelby brother sitting in your kitchen, sipping tea. 

“You’re good to ‘im, you know.” 

You met Tommy’s eyes over the lip of your teacup as you took a sip of the bitter, bitingly hot liquid. His eyes were strikingly blue and steady. He regarded you evenly from the other side of your table, his expression guarded but not unkind. 

You smiled softly and sadly as you swallowed the hot tea, focusing on the way it seemed to melt through your chest.

“He’s my brother,” you replied matter-of-factly. “I love him. He’s not the same, but I won’t turn him out.”

You knew that’s what Tommy was getting at. You were good to Danny because you hadn’t turned your back on him, despite his broken parts. Most men who’d come back from the War with cases of shell-shock as bad as Danny’s had been turned out by their families. In some cases, it was because of embarrassment. Sometimes it was purely for safety. In your case, you were both ashamed and afraid of Danny’s fits, so you couldn’t say for sure why you hadn’t told him to leave. You wanted to believe that it was because of compassion, as you were happy to let Tommy believe. But there was a gnawing guilt deep in your gut that suggested other, more self-serving motives. 

The sound of Tommy’s teacup clinking into the saucer dragged you out of the downward spiral of your own thoughts. 

“More tea?” you asked, wondering if Tommy could hear the hopeful edge in your voice. He nodded gratefully, and you poured him another serving. He pulled out a cigarette from his jacket pocket and lit it, the glow from the match casting his handsome face in sharp shadows. You busied yourself with pouring yourself a second cup as well, if only to distract yourself from staring. 

A particularly sharp yelp of terror from Danny’s bedroom set your nerves clanging. You nearly dropped the kettle on the floor as you stood, reflexively, and hurried towards the barely ajar bedroom door. You heard Tommy’s strong, sure footsteps behind you. 

From the other side of the door, you could hear Danny sobbing in his bed. You’d left all the lamps burning brightly in his room to dispel the darkness that tormented him. He was curled under the covers, laying on his side and rigid. 

“Danny?” you called quietly. He jumped at the sound. You pushed open the door, gently so as not to slam it against the wall. 

“Danny, it’s me. It’s your sister. You’re alright, Danny. You’re home.”

It never mattered what you said. It was the sound of another voice that dragged Danny out of his reveries. Surely, as the words kept flowing, you saw Danny’s tight muscles begin to unwind. 

“It’s OK, Danny. You’re safe. Home in Birmingham. This is your room. And Mr. Shelby is here, too.” 

Tommy was no stranger to the scene before him, and he picked up on your cue easily. He stood behind you, so close you could smell his cigarette and the twang of whiskey on his breath as he spoke. 

“They’re gone, Danny. No more tunnels. No more Germans. The War is over.”

Danny rolled over in his bed, his eyes wide but focused. He honed in on Tommy like a moth to a flame. You could hardly blame him: the deep tone and firm, unhurried cadence of Tommy’s voice reminded you of ocean waves. Undeniable, strong, and magnetic. 

“Mr. Shelby-”

“It’s alright, Danny. Just rest now.” 

Tommy never let Danny talk to him when he was like this. You had never asked him why - you didn’t dare to - but you suspected it was because Thomas Shelby didn’t want to be reminded of the things that haunted Daniel Owen’s nights. In fact, if you’d been a betting woman, you’d have guessed that the same horrors stalked Tommy’s dreams. There were dark pools in the back of Tommy’s eyes sometimes that reminded you of the way Danny looked when he got like this. 

“Yes, Mr. Shelby.”

Danny nuzzled down under the covers, his eyes darting to you in questioning. Finally convinced of his lucidity, you stepped forward to tuck your brother into bed. You bent over and placed a soft kiss on his forehead, dabbing away the sweat that had beaded there with the hem of your sleeve. 

“Rest now, Danny Boy,” you whispered, using the name your mother had called him. Danny’s eyes drifted shut, and exhaustion took him quickly. He didn’t sleep well these days, and as the clock in your kitchen heralded the arrival of 3am, tonight was quickly shaping up to be a similarly wasted venture. 

With Danny calmed, for the moment at least, you followed Tommy’s retreat out of the bedroom. The lamps still burned merrily, burning through the precious oil you struggled to purchase at a rate comparable to the demand generated by Danny’s nightmares. Once his bedroom door had been pulled almost shut, only a sliver ajar, Tommy spoke again. 

“I should be off, y/n. It’s quite late.” 

You hated nights like these, and most of all this part of the night. The part when Thomas Shelby left. 

You didn’t trust yourself not to beg him to stay, so you bit down on your lip and said nothing. You watched as Tommy gathered his hat and wool coat from the coat rack next to your apartment door. He turned back to you, his eyes shining like pools of clear springwater. 

“Thank you for the tea,” he offered with a gracious, half-bow. So genteel and gallant. 

“Tommy, this bitter excuse for tea is the least I can offer, and you know that. Please stop thanking me for it.” It sounded bitter and outside of convention, but you meant every word. Thomas Shelby had saved your brother’s life in the War, and he continued to save it on a daily basis. The work that Tommy supplied to Danny through the Peaky Blinders gave your brother the only sense of purpose that he’d found after coming home. And Tommy’s steadfast guidance on nights like these was no small feat. You knew Danny loved you, and after almost 3 years, you’d learned how to handle your brother’s shell-shock, but Tommy had an effect on him that even booze and opium couldn’t replicate. Tommy grounded Danny. To say nothing of the effect Tommy had on you. 

As if to underscore the point, Tommy let out as close to a smile as you’d ever seen as he donned his hat. The sight made your heart twirl between your ribs like a little girl around a maypole. 

“It’s never a bad thing to express gratitude, even for humble gifts,” he replied easily. “And I am grateful.” The sincerity with which he delivered these last words silenced any retort you might have had. You could only smile back as he turned and showed himself out your front door into the dingy hallway. You didn’t close the door fully until Thomas Shelby’s footsteps had fully faded in the stairwell and down the cobbled street outside… 

**if I write a p.2 and you want to be tagged, shoot me a message!

[jinnie-ret]

MY YOUTH | SKZ NINTH AU

stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)

<---------- back to my youth

<---------- back to main masterlist

chapter 6

genre: angst content warnings: bullying word count: 1.6k

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Lou began to feel like the trajectory of her life in this universe was heading down a path of one sick joke after the other. She had been holed up in her personal studio ever since the incident in which her childhood toy she was so attached to had been torn to bits. Lee Know had tried to comfort her but she was so overwhelmed that she had to leave the dorms. It left her with an odd feeling, one that didn’t quite sit right as she knew that she wouldn’t be feeling this way in her home world, but the longing that ached within her wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation. Her friends and family that had been left behind, seemingly nonexistent here. Seemingly, because Lou knew she couldn’t exactly go up to the boys and ask them about random people they would have never heard her bring up before. Or, on the other hand, she couldn’t ask about her ‘family members’ because she should know them more than anyone right?

The girl had become so absorbed into her thoughts that she had failed to notice the new object that had made itself home on her cluttered desk, an old floral notebook with a tattered leather binding at the spine. Until. the pages started flickering before her very eyes. The visual distraction was welcome, despite the unease and immense confusion that it caused. Dusty yellowed paper flickered until it came to a stop, landing on one page in particular. Ah, here it was, the next sick joke making itself known.

Marigolds.

These were the flowers she got yesterday. Lou gripped the book in her hands in disbelief, eyes scanning over the description of the plant, one that was presented in a time of grief. Surely not? Perhaps she had imagined the unnatural nature of the book. She could have subconsciously turned to that page. Yes, that must have been it. Lou was slowly convincing herself that there was no way that there could be a magic book in her grasp, even when she had been transported into a completely different universe. It didn’t matter for now, not when the three girls she wanted to see least had suddenly stormed into her studio, making her jump back into her chair and turn, hand on her heart.

Mina, Sora and Jiah, the younger girl of course hiding behind the older two who had dragged her along. In all honesty, Lou didn’t know why they were all still friends when it was clear there was a disconnect in beliefs - the beliefs being on tormenting her or not.

“Here, thought we’d be nice and give this back,” Mina plastered on a fake smile and proceeded to throw Lou’s notebook at her, hitting her against the head. Sora snorted from beside her at the disgruntled look on Lou’s face. The poor girl already had a heavy weight of thoughts and feelings to deal with, her neck hunched as she slumped over, pinching the bridge of her nose as she huffed.

“What? Not gonna say anything? I don't know why we even bother doing this if you’re not going to even react,” Sora kicked Lou’s foot to grab her attention.

“Pathetic,” Mina’s eyes scanned Lou, before nudging Jiah.

“Oh, y-yeah,” she looked up briefly before ducking her head down straight away.

“You bought me marigolds,” Lou blurted out, unable to get the thought out of her head, “why?”

“Marigolds?” Sora snorted, looking at her accomplices with incredulity, “you think I care about what type of flowers we sent you? Give me a break.”

“They were on discount,” Jiah added unhelpfully, yet it still led the other bullies further on their hateful discourse.

“Cheap, nasty stuff. All you deserve,” Mina grinned evilly, before practically snarling as she spat at Lou’s shoes.

“We did you a favour, really, tearing apart that ugly toy,” Sora sighed, inspecting her nails as if she was bored. Lou hoped that they would get bored one day. She was tired of their antics, the amount of times they dropped in to insult her before she performed Miroh for the first time was nearly more than she could count on her fingers.

“So you didn’t know what type of flowers they were?” Lou pushed away their comments, wanting to get to the bottom of this weird situation, her eyes boring into the gazes of the girls in front of her.

“Oh don’t tell me we’ve got a nerd here!” Sora rested her hand on Mina’s shoulder, leaning against her slightly as they both chuckled.

“We already told you we don’t care about that, idiot. Aren’t you more upset about your ickle lickle stuffed animal?” the latter pouted mockingly, bending over slightly and leaning forwards to squeeze Lou’s cheek, the pinch being a bit too hard.

“Get out!” Lou pushed her away, standing up with frustration, stray hairs flying in front of her eyes yet she still maintained her steely gaze.

“Woah! No need to get all angry,” Mina laughed loudly, enjoying the reaction she finally got.

“My members are still here, wouldn’t want them to see you acting like this, would you?” Lou instinctively bit back, not really knowing if her statement would affect the actions of the other girls but it fortunately did.

“We should go,” Jiah nervously looked behind her, tugging at the sleeves of Sora and Mina to get them to follow her. It was probably one of the only times they listened to the younger girl.

Lou was happy to breathe for a second with the disappearance of the trainees. She gathered her things together, her old notebook which she had finally gotten back, and the new mysterious flower journal that only seemed to bring her trouble and more stress. So the girls supposedly didn’t buy the marigolds on purpose, yet there was a connection to the real life events with how the book itself acted sentient for a short moment to show her what they truly meant. This was going to nag at her brain for a while, that was for sure.

By the time she shook it off, made the short nighttime walk back home to the dorms, Lou had checked her phone as she entered through the front door and saw the time on her watch. 03:25AM. How was it that time already? She didn’t even realise how the time had flown by.

“I’m sure she’ll be okay. I’m sure of it,” she heard Felix speak up from somewhere in the lounge. She took off her coat and shoes, only to see Bang Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin and Seungmin putting on their own jackets.

“Where are you going?” Lou quietly spoke up, her members so caught up in their own bubble they didn’t hear her get back.

“To look for you! Have you seen the time? Why didn’t you reply to our texts?” Bang Chan rubbed a stressed hand over his face before ruffling his own hair.

“Texts?” Lou had to pause for a moment, left hand patting against the pockets of her sweatpants and hoodies but she couldn’t find anything. Where was her phone? “Oh, I don’t know…”

“I tried calling as well. You just ran away. I was worried, we all were, Sunny,” Lee Know stood up from the sofa to get a better look at her, in case he could spot anything alarming.

“Is your phone off?” Seungmin looked at her knowingly, unzipping his windbreaker.

“Yeah, I was at the studio,” Lou shrugged. Maybe that’s why she had no idea where her phone was. She’d have to look into it, just something else to add to the mountains of issues she had to deal with.

“Told you she’d be there!” Han rolled his eyes, legs tucking into himself as he tiredly leant against the arm of the sofa. It was then she noticed how tired everyone looked, all because of her. Felix was sat upright, Jeongin next to him and although he was more reclined, their legs still touched for that extra bit of comfort. Changbin and Hyunjin were following in Seungmin’s footsteps, taking off their coats too, yet still standing attentively alongside Bang Chan.

“Now’s not the time,” Changbin tapped Han on the head through his hushed words.

“I’m sorry, I’m back now though. Can we just talk about this tomorrow?” Lou urged, not wanting a grilling from her members, her leader in particular, before she felt that fuzzy feeling she still hadn’t gotten used to. A flash blinded her vision before she was entered into a glimpse of a vision.

“Please, Hannie, can we just talk about it tomorrow? I don’t want to talk about it now,” Lou begged a younger version of her member.

“Flo, I’m worried about you. You need to tell me what’s happening, please. Something is wrong,” Han pleaded, his hand reaching out towards her before the vision was gone.

“Yah, Flo? Louisa?” Chan snapped his fingers in front of her face.

“You should get some sleep,” Hyunjin added when he saw Lou wasn’t off in her own world.

“Something is wrong,” Han whispered to Seungmin who nodded but rested his hand on his shoulder to show now wasn’t the time.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” Lee Know almost sternly told Lou. She thought he had a right to feel that way, she had run out on him after all.

She quickly took herself off to her room, knowing where she was going this time. It wasn’t long before her head hit the pillow and she fell asleep, entering a dreamland - one she had not visited before.

<-- previous chapter next chapter -->

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tagged: @akitfffr @aeinzzzketchup @mirelys98 @itsjustkhaos @linoalwaysknows @royal-shinigami @jolly04 @turtledove824 @yangbbokari @thisrandomgoofy15 @lieslab @hannamoon143 @arumlilyeclipse

[floatingaimlessly333]

>:)

Teen!Simon getting teased teen!Roba + gang at his new school and Johnny stands up for him, shouting at Roba in Gaelic

It was always the same shit. Didn't matter where, didn't matter when, didn't matter who. It was always the same shit.

Simon Riley was destined to be ridiculed and tormented wherever he went, so it was damn stupid of him to think switching schools would change that. It was only a week into the new term, and he had already become the target of another group of arseholes who thought they were better than him. The boys at the group home, his shitty excuse for a father, and now his newest torturer, Manuel Roba; it was like each of them could sense that he was weak, that he was lesser.

Simon had been trying so fucking hard to just ignore Roba and his lackeys. He's sure Nik and Price would be pissed if he got into a fight before they even hit the two week mark, but he couldn't stand it anymore. Every single second he wasn't in a classroom, he had to face jeers and insults and grabs for his mask. He was constantly on the edge of snapping, and he felt powerless to stop what seemed so inevitable at this point.

His only saving grace was Johnny.

Whenever he was able to find a moment of peace amidst all of the chaos, Johnny was right there beside him. But today, he was nowhere in sight. Simon had even gone so far as to actively search for the older boy, but he wasn't in his usual spots. The only thing his hunt did was land him right in the middle of Roba's warpath.

"Where have you been, English? It's almost like you've been avoiding me. Why would you do that, perro cachorro?" Simon could barely suppress a growl at hearing the other boy's taunts. He knew that would just bring on more dog comparisons.

"Roba-"

"Ah, ah, ah. I didn't say speak. Did you forget your commands already? Don't worry, perrito, I'm a very patient trainer."

This is exactly what Simon had been trying to avoid. He knew lashing out wouldn't do him any good, in the long run. It wouldn't stop the bullying. And then all his new teachers would know just how much trouble he was. But he couldn't fucking take it anymore.

He was preparing himself to throw the first punch when he heard footsteps hurrying towards them down the hallway.

"Och, ye fuckin' bawbags! Leave 'im the fuck alone!!" The accent alone clued Simon into the identity of his savior, and he looked up to see his knight in shining footie gear. Honestly, Johnny looked sort of like an angry porcupine at the moment, with sweat making his mohawk look even wilder than usual.

"This isn't your fight, Mactavish. Leave English and I to our little chat."

"Chattin' ma arse. Piss. Off."

Simon had been so busy watching Johnny that he hadn't noticed Roba steadily getting closer until the shorter boy grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie.

"We were just teasing him, hombre. You were having fun, weren't you, English?" Roba gave Simon a firm shake, causing him to hit the set of lockers behind him.

Once again, Simon didn't have time to speak before Johnny was jumping in to save his arse. The angry Scott rammed full speed into Roba, spending the bully careening backwards into his little gang of dickheads.

"Ah said FUCK OFF, YE SACK OF DICKS!!! Na bean ris a-rithist!!! No gearraidh mi dhiot do làmhan! And then I'll shove them up yer flabby arse!!"

Even as Roba and his crew made their slow retreat down the hall, Johnny continued shouting at them in a language Simon couldn't understand. He didn't stop until the other boys were fully out of sight, and even then he let loose a few more words that Si was sure must've been curses.

"If ah dinnae have a football game on Friday, ah would've kicked his arse for ye." He spun around to give Simon a once-over, making sure he wasn't hurt. Satisfied that the other boy was as okay as he could be, he extended his hand towards him. "Well, ahm bloody starving. Wannae go get lunch?"

Speechless, and with a raging blush creeping across his face, Simon took Johnny's hand. And suddenly, all thoughts of Roba and his goons left his mind. He had much better things to focus on at the moment.

Uh oh, this once again came out way longer than expected. >:)

Warning, I speak neither Spanish nor Gaelic, so these translations might not be accurate.

Spanish: perro cachorro=puppy dog; perrito=puppy

Gaelic: Na bean ris a-rithist=Do not touch him again; No gearraidh mi dhiot do làmhan= Or I will cut your hands off

[midnightwinters]

We are the readers, not the writer.

MHA fandom isn't bad because of the shipping the only bad thing about it is when people are trying to push a narrative that isn't real. (sprinkle of spoilers btw)

Uraraka Ochao isn't made to be Midoriya Izuku's romantic partner, but she is indeed his friend. She is a HERO who's wish was to make her parents life easier and happier. YES she had a small crush on Midoriya and got teased for it. But at the start of it all she supported him at the beginning and suggested the name Deku in a positive light as his hero name. She was the first one to act when Deku was berserk asking Shinso for help. She upgraded her costume because of this and wanted to be better as a HERO. Deku looked up to her as a HERO because she was the one who took the initiative to ask the civilians to let him stay as a student and future hero.

She isn't a weak princess that needs to be saved by her prince Izuku. She may be a girl but she isn't a heroine because she is a HERO that wanted to save Toga Himiko, a girl that should've had support since she was little. Ochao even offers up her own blood and calling her cute despite being in a battle of death with Himiko.

Bakugo Katsuki, isn't a bad boy or an evil bully that torments Izuku. At the start ever since he was young his quirk was considered highly due to it's power. He thought he was the king on a throne because of the praises but then comes in Midoriya Izuku a quirkless boy who thought highly of him and wanted to be a hero besides him. But yet despite bullying him he allowed kid Izuku to hang around him watching AM on tv, getting AM cards, hunting for bugs multiple times, and even that moment at the "lake." When Katsuki tells Izuku to jump off a building, he comes to later regret this.

He is the first one told about One for All and hides it from others and even goes out of his way to help Izuku nurture the other quirks within One for All. He took an injury for Deku but he's an evil bully? He thought of Izuku before he died and realized the pain Izuku went through during his journey but he's not good to be by Izuku's side right? He regrets not grabbing Izuku's hand as a kid, but he knows he shouldn't be the one to grab his hand. He bows and apologizes to Izuku in the rain for all the things he did and said when they were kids. Where we come to find out from the parents of Bakugo that he hates the rain. His apology was humbling but Izuku never gives him a response and simple collapses. He kept an All Might card that he got with Izuku till this day by his side. He wants to atone for what he did as kids, and wants to support Izuku. He's cried in front of Izuku 3 times:

losing to Izuku

being the reason for All Might's downfall

finding out Izuku only has the embers and may not be heroes together

Goodie Two shoes Kacchan: He goes to bed real early, he gets good grades, he wears all might merch in secret~

My Hero Academia started with Kacchan and Deku. It ended with Kacchan and Deku. If you can't accept that Kacchan is integral to the story and an important person to the main character Midoriya Izuku than you will never understand this manga.

(btw he accepts himself as Kacchan Bakugo the one nickname that Izuku continues to still call him to this day.)

Midoriya Izuku the infamous boy that started quirkless and ended quirkless. Despite the setback in his life he still continued and pushed towards dreams of being a hero. He wanted to be as cool as his figure All Might and cool like his childhood friend Kacchan. In the beginning he is the first one to react to Kacchan and desperately tries to save him despite being quirkless. All Might who sees the hero in Izuku that day offers him the ability to be a hero, a quirk that would change his life.

Izuku has and will always be reckless with and without a quirk. It's one of the reasons why he can't hate Bakugo and wanted to save Tenko. All Might tells Izuku not to tell anyone about his quirk and who does he tell despite his favorite hero telling him this? his childhood friend Kacchan. Despite his whole class seeing Izuku reckless multiple times who is the one to worry? Ochao? NO it's his childhood friend Kacchan. Who is the person who desperately wants to visit Izuku while injured? Idk Ochao? NO It's Bakugo Katsuki not once but twice.

Izuku is a fanboy of heroes, but he's possibly the biggest fanboys of All Might and Explosive Murder God Dynamite. His room in the dorms and his room at home is filled with All Might. His first costume was inspired by All Might. He is able to copy All Might signature's smile. But when it comes to Kacchan, he reflexively starts to copy him at first it's when he needs courage to deal with villians at USJ but when Kacchan gets hurt by the semi fused All for One/Shigiraki he becomes so angry that he copies him. When sees Kacchan and everyone's lifeless corpse/bodies he's becomes so infuriated blackwhip starts to go out of control. Blackwhip came when Izuku was angry with Monoma when he started to back-talk Kacchan. But blackwhip was a canon izch moment? Not really, it was Ochao being a hero and another piece of evidence that Katsuki is Izuku's "weakness and strength."

I don't hate any MHA ship unless it's just straight up weird but do know that this manga wasn't made explicitly for you. It was made by Horikoshi who intended to make this something that he could enjoy at the time he first started writing it. So please know the difference between canon and your ship.

The only characters in the series that are canonically the worst in the manga and the real world is All For One, Overhaul, and Endeavor.

The one's that redeemed themselves is Bakugo, Nagant, Yuga, Gentle and La Brava (Stain kinda).

The ones that deserved better in their youth are Shigiraki, Twice, Dabi, Himiko, and Spinner.

Goodbye My Hero Academia, you were everything <3

[bluenotes75]

Trust (repost)

Repost because the original got labeled even though there's no adult content :(

Miles Morales ! 42 x Fem ! Reader Synopsis : ''I fucked up princesa, I fucked up bad.'' wc : 1,6k Warnings : spoilder for atsv, angst, THEY ARE AROUND 19 YEARS OLD, possessiveness, this is angst but like good one, cheating, no proofread, what I could remember from my spanish class 3 years ago. pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.3

You glanced at your phone for the hundredth time this minute.

Still no sign of life from Miles.

You were worried, more than you should as you had seen him for the last time the previous day. Yet, you were used to texting your boyfriend every day. It was now nighttime and he had not answered any of your messages. You scrutinized with a frown the last texts you had sent him. He had left you on read.

Miles never left you on read.

Well, he did but only for two reasons. First, when he was mad at you. Thus the first contradiction because the boy was rarely mad at you. Even if he was, he would always confront you directly and talk things out. He hated being on bad terms with you. Life was already rough without you by his side and he wouldn't let anything strip him of any quality time with his girl.

The other situation was is… street activities with his uncle. He used to disappear for days without telling you why, convincing you to not get concerned about him. However, after that one night when you yelled at him, crying, for worrying to death after he ghosted you for two days straight, he promise to always send a quick message to tell you when he would get really busy.hhunyn

So as you sat on your bed, plunged in the darkness of your room, you knew that none of these cases applied to the current situation. You two hadn't fought and he hadn't told you anything about his prowler activities. Well, nothing that you knew of, which left you insanely troubled.

Your last words together were when he left for a party the previous night. You were supposed to go with him but dropped at the last minute because your mother felt sick. You preferred staying by her side, making sure she get better. At first, Morales wanted to stay with you and spend the night at yours, but you refused. You couldn't remember the last time he got to catch a breath and just enjoyed life like the young man he was. He was always either hanging out with you - making sure you were safe by the same occasion- or working with his uncle. So like the good girlfriend you were, you convinced him to go to the party without you. You just wanted him to have fun and even though he was reluctant, he couldn't say no to you.

Since then you had heard nothing from his side. It was already far in the night and you should be sleeping, but you couldn't close an eye.

At this point, you were contemplating directly calling his mother or even his friends. But you knew Miles despised you talking to other guys. Even if they were his own friends.

Your train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a bang on your window. You jumped at the sound and gawked when you catch sight of the boy tormenting your thoughts out of the corner of your eyes.

You hurried up and opened the window for him and he stumbled inside your room looking…awful. You could see the dark circles painted under his eyes and the frown settled on his forehead. Before you could say anything, he clenched his jaw and wrapped his arms around your waist, dragging your body to his. He pressed your bodies tightly against each other, leaving no room for anything else and the heat of your skin warmed the iciness of his.

You were left speechless as he leaned down and nestled his face on your chest, right over your breast. This sudden display of physical affection was unusual from your Miles. You were the one initiating the cuddles, the kisses, the hand-holding. So you couldn't help your heart from fluttering at this new attention. However, the feeling quickly vanished as you remembered the context. Your worry came back like a slap on your cheek.

“My love, what's going on ?” you broke the silence and wrapped your arms around his neck to hug him back, sensing that he needed it.

You received the silence treatment.

“Miles,” you frowned and leaned back to look at his face, only for him to stop you by tightening his arms around the low of your back.

“You haven't answered any of my texts since yesterday, what happened? Is it your uncle? You can talk to me. ”

He took a deep breath against your skin but still left you with no explanation, which made you upset.

“Miles, you can't just disappear for a whole day and come back as if it was nothing !”

“Lo siento Mami, I messed up,” his pained voice came out muffled by your shirt. You scowled at his words. ‘uh ?’

“What do you mean ?”

''m' so sorry. I fucked up Princesa. I fucked up bad.''

You moved your hand to his hair to caress it and comfort him.

''What did you do ?''

''I-fuck, don't make me say it.''

Whatever he has done had to be really bad for him to be that panicked. You could definitely tell that it had been eating him all day.

''Tell me,''

''….I messed up last night. I touched another girl.''

As soon as the words escaped his mouth, your hand froze in his hair. All the worries slipped out of your body as your blood ran cold. This couldn't be what you thought right?

''W-what ?''

''I spent the night with another girl.''

There it was.

Your hands fell to your side as your heart dropped. This was the last thing you could have ever imagined. You took a shaky breath trying to process the wave of emotions that invaded you, but your stare was already lost in the wall facing you.

Sensing your lack of reaction, Miles leaned back to look at you.

''You don't know how much I regret it-''

''Let go of me.''

The boy tensed in your arm at the unusual coldness of your voice.

“No mami, let me explain-”

“Let me go !” This time you yelled.

You thought back to all his possessiveness. Him not letting you talk to your guy friends. You thought back to these sleepless nights you spend worrying about this safety, just like tonight. To all these efforts you pulled to break the wall he build around him after the loss of his father.

All that for him to fumble and cheat on you in the end.

You felt your eyes water but you refused to cry in front of him. He couldn't see you weak. He couldn't see how much he had wounded you.

“Get out,”

“I won't, you can't end us.”

“What?'' You scoffed at his nerve. ''You ended us the moment you prioritized your pleasure over our relationship. Get out !”

Yet, he stayed still.

And that's all it took for you to lose it. He didn't have enough of betraying you, now he had to stay and insensitively watch you break down. Before you could control yourself, you landed a punch on his chest. Then another, and another one. Soon they rained. They didn't do anything to him. Miles was barely affected by it, and you weren't surprised. He was the prowler, after all, he was not weak.

While he was not affected physically, he was a mess on the inside. He had never seen you this upset, and he loathed himself for being the cause of it.

“How could you do this to me !” Tears rolled down your cheeks.

There, you had failed to maintain your facade and Miles watched in horror as you fell apart in front of him. Through your blurry sight, you didn't notice that he was also crying. He stood there, towering over you, eaten up by remorse. He was supposed to protect you. He had accepted the prowler job to protect both you and his mother, but he had done the total opposite.

But he couldn't bear to lose you.

He let go of your waist and wrapped his fingers around your wrists to stop your punches. You tried to escape his hold but he was too strong.

“Querida, mirame por favor. I will make it up to you. I'll buy you everything you want. Tu eres mi mundo and you know-” he tried but you wouldn't hear anything.

“Who do you think I am? You can't buy me with money! Stop being selfish and leave !”

The boy tried to make eye contact with you but you looked sideways, taking deep breaths to calm down. You were overwhelmed with so many emotions that you didn't know what to feel anymore. However, you knew you couldn't bear to see him anymore.

For some reason, Miles seemed to catch the message as he finally let go of your hands and stepped back.

''I hope you can forgive me, mami.''

''Don't. I hate you. I wish I never met you.''

You spat those words purposely to hurt him. You didn't mean them at all. If anything, you still loved him as hard as before. Yet, when you noticed his hurt expression, it brought you a bit of consolation. It was tiny and it only lasted a second, but it was something.

You turned your back to him and eventually, you heard the window open and close behind you. Only then, you tumbled to your knees and let all of your tears fall, becoming a sobering mess in the silence of the room.

You had heard a lot about heartbreak. From your friends to your mother and even your aunt. What you didn't know was how aching it would be. Because even after he betrayed you, even after he made you feel like you weren't enough, you couldn't stop your heart from beating faster for Miles.

[smilingangel582]

Many many fics for this anime are going wiiild! Heeey guys sooo thanks for the likes and follows . Ik I'm a selfish one to not let yall ask me stuff but I appreciate u all keeping up with my selfishness.

Teeheee, so enjoy another tickle fic from me if ya like!

Warning spoilers for Windbreaker ep 10

Something simple as "love"

Umemiya is the top of Bofurin. Sakura can't even think about competing with him. Even if he often retorted that, he would take the top dog spot someday.

But will he though? What will he achieve then? Will he be someone like Toyama from Shishitoren?

"Sakura-kun~?" A poke to his ribs made him jump a foot and whirled around with his fists like a defence mechanism. His eyes were wide and alert like a cat.

The boy with the eye patch grins at him. Next to him is Nirei, who looks as bright as always.

"Sakura-San, are you OK? You look so deep in thought?" Nirei tilts his head now looking at Sakura, who has been by the window. Lowering his fists with a sigh, he rolls his eyes. "Nothing..."

Suo being the perceptive one, hums under his breath, smirking with adornment, "Are you still hung up on your feelings for Togame-san?"

There it is... the flustered tomato face Sakura-kun they all love.

"Huuuh? Y-you -I am not! I don't like t-that guy!"

His little growl deepened when they both grinned and exchanged fond glances. Sakura grits his teeth with a low grumble, looking sideways.

Suo closes towards him, patting his head as if he's a bashful puppy, "Aww, Sakura-kun, dont very shy... liking someone is very sweet. After all, we like you too"

"Hey!" Sakura slapped his hand, which made Suo poke his side, causing the younger of the two to let out a yelp.

Nirei laughs, gently tugging at his arm, "Sakura-san, are you still embarrassed, I thought Umemiya-san told u about those stuff already?"

Conflicted with reacting to Suo's poke and Nirei's persistence, he just clenched his fists with an inward grumble.

Getting this to his advantage, Suo quickly got behind Sakura to prod his sides again but this time gently and non stop.

"H-hey! N-not that... s-stop it!" Sakura shifted away from him, hopping from one foot to the other, but Nirei hook his arm under Sakura to keep him in place.

"Oh! Ticklish? Sakura-san that's so cute!" The blond's eyes glistened as he mentally noted Sakura cute when he's tickled.

"I Am nohot!" A giggle slips when Suo used his fingers to crawl up his sides. Ah, ribs it is...

"Hmm~ Sakura-kun do you really like your friends?"

Again with this like question?! Sakura groaned as he felt their predatory fingers capture every sensitive spot. Honestly, the last thing he wanted was being tickled. He never felt this before... its not really bad-

"AHHH! SHIHIHIT Thahahahats, ehehehenough!"

Ok, Suo needs to stop tormenting his hips.

Wait? Why are they even tickling him in the first place?

As if Nirei could read his mind he points out, "Sakura-san you need to accept that you love your friends. It's nothing to be embarassed about... you are cool guy even if you say you love us..."

Sakura blushes furiously. The won't even let him revert back to his original colour. He couldn't help but shriek when Suo tackles him to the ground. Instantly causing a scene when the rest of the classmates began to laugh at his predicament.

"OHOHOHOI! SUHUHUO DOHOHONT EVEN TRY!"

"Aww you called my name... does that mean you love me?"

"Eeeh??" Sakura wheezes in embarassment, his throat croaking awkwardly without even saying anything.

"Hey Suo, see if the tough guy is ticklish somewhere else?"

"Dohohohont ehehehencourage hihihim!" Sakura struggled to grab Suo's hands which were miraculously flying around poking his ribs and torso without care. At least his hips are not targeted.

"Oh, what about this spot~?" Nirei from behind whispers in his ear which made him scrunch his shoulder with a shrilled cry, "No!"

Suo's eyes widened with amusement, "Nice Nirei-kun, that has to be one of his worst spots..."

Unable to expose his midriff as his hands are still fight for dear life to protect any spot on his belly but now his shoulders raised up to avoid Nirei's curiois timid fingers around tracing his ears.

"W-wow Sakura-san your ears are even redder whenever I touch them."

"Aw man, Sakura-kun looks cute... its giving me diabetics now"

They laughed at the joke and also Sakura's shrieks of giggly protests that raised and cackled giddily.

His legs kicked and slammed against the floor but they didn't help at all.

"AHAHAHA MEHEHERCY! EHEHEHE IHIHI CANT! EHEHEE"

Nirei stopped but Suo lingered a bit longer now gently tracing patterns over Sakura's sides.

"Admit one thing Sakura..."

"W-Whahahat is ihihit dahahamn it?"

Suo grins, "Say you love your friends"

Silence, Sakura looks pale and his already flsuehd face got brighter like a cherry. The other classmates whooped and hooted playfully, "Sakuraaa~ sayyy you love your friends..."

"Lets hold a wedding for him too~"

Amongst the chatters and laughter. Sakura grumbles but still giggling as Suo just continued his little teasing touches on his stomach, "U-ugh... I dont... wanna... -ack!"

"Hmm~?" Suo scribbled his fingers tips over the one spot across the side of his belly, "Don't wanna or can't do it?"

Nirei chuckles uneasily, "Sakura-san you don't have to force yoursel-"

"No I wanna hear it," Kiryu the pink haired guy with piercings finally removed his airport, with his tilted smile he gestures, "It's not bad to love your friends... its so simple... unless you're afraid..."

Sakura groans, both from that sentence and Suo's merciless taunts. He sigh, "F-Fine just... just let me up..."

Suo stops now, helping Sakura up to his feet. Despite the initial wobble, he straightens up and mumbles, "I don't hate... you guys..."

"Ah ah ah... say it properly Sakura-kun" Suo sways towards him, closely leaning on his shoulder, making Sakura squeak when he felt a hand on his waist, "A-ah alright alright... geez..."

He blushes furiously, now looking sideways tenaciously but with surrender. "I like you g-guys... ok?"

"Louderrrrr~?" Someone from the back teases.

"PUNK! I SAID I LIKE YALL! NOW LEAVE ME BE!" Sakura snaps, raising his arms to ruffle his hair in frustration before he storms away attempting to go outside of the classroom. However as he made it to the door he bumps into Sugishita, who menacingly looks down at him.

"Watch it brat..."

"AAAH? YOU WANNA FIGHT GREASE BALL?" Sakura raised his fists with a growl. Yup, just like a cat. An angry tsundere kitten...

Suo laughs at his own similie before pointing out, "Without Sakura, what will we do? He's so fun..."

Kiryu chuckles along with him. "Indeed, we all need a Sakura-chan to satisfy our lives."

Nirei, being the concerned mother of the group, steps towards Sakura to grab him and hold him back from violence. "S-sakura-san pleaaase don't fight..."

Sakura just hissed at Sugishita, who continues to glare, not really doing anything since he doesn't want to fight behind Umemiya's back. He just gave grimaces and irritated glances further triggering Sakura to anger. Sakura wheezes like a provoked cat... Nirei is strong enough to hold him back luckily.

One of the classmates laughed and gestured with amusement, "Someone tickle Sakura so he'll stop picking unnecessary fights..."

"Oh, right? Now we know his weakness..."

Suo smirks at the suggestion and looks at Kiryu, "Round 2?"

Kiryu winks, with a similar calculative beaming smile. "Ready when you are Suo-chan..." He advances forward where Sakura is, while adding towards the heterocrhomic boy, wiggling his fingers, "Ohhh Sakuraaaa-chaan....~?"

Suo steps forward as well, looking through the spectacle as he waits for his turn.

Freshmen classes aren't always this enthusiastic... but this year... it is very lively. Because they have a Sakura-kun.

[livindeadgirlgrav]

Taken part 2

Pairing: The Grabber x fem reader!

Warning: Kidnapping, violence, possible dubcon, manipulation, bad language, toxic, NSFW, abuse, Stockholm syndrome!

A/n: Please read part 1 first! It’s linked below! I hope you guys enjoy! Sorry for the delay I’ve been super busy with work 🥲

Part 1

Ps. I don’t condone anything this character does he’s a bad person like all the other slashers!

This story has alternating povs!!

The Grabbers pov

She was never part of the plan, never. She got in my way that night, almost got me caught. It was a dirty job, I don’t like dirty unpredictable jobs. But I had no choice. The night she ran into me I was out looking for one of those stupid boys. “Please help me! Please. A man is trying to hurt me! He’ll kill me if he catches me!” What was I supposed to do? Leave her there? Definitely not she saw my van, Samson, and me but she didn't look smart enough to remember me. So I made note of her small figure, she was smaller then one of the boys I took, I knew she would be easy to handle. “Okay, okay I’ll help you.. here jump in here.” I told her as I opened the van door letting her get in, shutting the door behind her. Not even a couple minutes later whoever was chasing her was questioning me. I wanted to snap his neck and hers as well for getting me in this situation. “Nope, haven’t seen any girl. I've been walking Samson here.” The man nodded and thanked me leaving without question. I growled opening the door to the van once the man was out of sight. “Thank you so much! I really appreciate it!” She said jumping out the van. I grinned knowing exactly what was going to happen next.

Once I got her in the basement I resented her. She was in my way. She better be glad I was able to find the boy that escaped. She would have been dead that night if I didn't find him. But as time passed I noticed she was making me soft, and I hated her for it. I was already thinking of ways to get rid of her. It was all too complicated, at first I treated her like one of the boys but I couldn't play the game with her. It didn't sit right with me that was my special game and it wasn't for her.

That night she kissed my mask I wanted to take her right then and there, but I also wanted to choke her, see the life fade from her. Why was she acting like this? What did she want from me? After that I stayed away from her. She was conflicting me, tormenting my mind. From the time I woke to the time I went to sleep I thought about her non-stop. I would feed her every now and again, but I didn't talk to her. I would watch her sleep a lot. It was the only time I truly understood her.

Al was very distance since the kiss. I would beg him to stay with me when he would bring me food but he never did. I was mad at him for many things, leaving me alone and during my free time I found evidence he was lying about kidnapping those kids. But crazy enough I craved his attention more than anything. Why couldn't he see that? He brought me here! I never asked for any of this! Sitting on the bed starring at the door, I shook my leg waiting for him. Having already been crying my eyes were all puffy. I feel like all I ever do now is cry. Once the door opened I stood and walked towards him. "Why won't you pay me attention? I've been begging you! What did I do?" I yelled, he looked down at me with his emotionless stupid mask on. Walking in he closed the door. "Huh!? I never asked to be brought here! I asked for help not to be kidnapped and ignored!" He just stood there tray in hand. I started to pace getting anxious. Tears starting to form but I was unable to cry, I was starting to doubt if I had any tears left. "I don't want that!" I slapped the tray out of his hands but before the tray even hit the floor he had me pinned to the dirty ground by my throat. I kicked and grabbed his arms. "Al!" I coughed and cried. His hands tight around my throat. He didn't say a word just progressively tightened his grip, sitting on my legs so they wouldn't be able to kick him even though I tried. "Albert! You're...hurting me!" I was able to cough out. And like that he let go and got off me. He looked at me and for the first time I saw emotion in his dead eyes. I grabbed my throat and cried. "I-I'm sorry!" I cried out before curling into a ball. He darted for the door slamming it shut. All I could do was cry so I did till I passed out. About an hour later I felt two arms wrapped around me. "Al?" I questioned. "Be quiet." I nodded, I looked around I was now on the bed with a blanket draped over my legs. Albert had his arms wrapped around me and his head was pushed into my back. I tensed up scared, not knowing what he was going to do. “Are you okay?” Asking softly, Albert growled. “How many times do I have to tell you?” He sat up, putting his hand over your mouth and pushing your head into the mattress. “Now I’m giving you what you wanted, stop being stupid.” Nodding he let go and watched you sit up staring at him with tearful eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.” Looking at his emotionless face you looked down wiping the tears away from your eyes. Starring at you he removed his mouth to his mask. “Don’t cry. I know you are scared, be good and I won’t scare you anymore.” You looked at him looking at his mouth like you never seen one before. Watching it move as he spoke. “I’ll be good.” He studied your face before lifting his hand and wiping a tear away from your cheek. “You know I care about you, right?” Rubbing your cheek, you smiled. “You do?” He nodded. “Yeah I do, that’s why I took you..” “Because you care about me.” You finished watching his mouth curve into a smile which made you smile as well. “That’s right.”

I didn’t care about her, I wanted her gone just didn’t know how yet a knife would work, or poison. I’ve never poisoned someone before. After she went to sleep I went back upstairs to think. Starring at the ceiling of my room I soon went to sleep. “Dove? I got you something.” She smiled at me, excited to see me. “What is it?” She asked practically jumping with excitement. “Well I thought you deserved something special so I made this for you.” I said crouching down beside her mattress and placing a small piece of cake down beside her on a small plate. She smiled and hugged me tightly. “Thank you!” I hugged her back then ushered her to eat. Which she did. Her smile soon faded into a frown. “Al?” Smiling I watched her face contort. She coughed and tried her best to throw up sticking her fingers down her throat. I smirked as I stepped back. She began to cry and cough up blood as she grabbed after her throat. “Al! It burns..” she coughed getting blood on the mattress and floor. “I-I thought you loved me?” She whimpered I laughed as I took my knife and shoved it into her stomach twisting it slightly. “A-Albert.” I gasped waking up sweating ‘It was all a dream’ I said to myself trying to calm down I quickly got up and threw on the head piece of the mask and ran to the basement. Opening the door I was relieved when I saw her sleeping peacefully. I pulled the door to and got in my spot next to wall, sitting down just to watch her sleep. Did I care about her?

Fluttering your eyes you noticed the dark figure by the wall. You shifted and sat up, rubbing your eyes in the process to get use to the darkness. “Al?” You called but no response so you quietly crawled over seeing he was asleep. Sitting back on your legs you smiled to yourself for seeing him like this brought you comfort. You gently pushed his hair back from his masked face. That was when two thoughts came to mind 1. Remove the mask and truly face your abductor or 2. Leave. Looking at the door you noticed it was open. “I’ll just quietly leave” you thought to yourself but where would you go? And what would he do? Would he track you down or would he go back to his killing spree. You noted he couldn’t be to terribly rich to afford two houses to kidnap people you were occupying his only hideout his soundproof hideout.

Tears formed in your eyes you knew who he was without his face or name you knew from the moment you arrived. You stood up looking around eyes truly opened. Walking to the corner of the room opposite of Albert you sat down knees to your chest and cried. It was like your brain was being pulled from every angle. You had feelings for him you craved his attention but you knew he was a killer and would kill you. Crying hard Albert shifted picking his head up and looking at the mattress then quickly to the corner you were crying in. “Y/n?” He called. “Why did you bring me here?” You asked looking up at him it was dark and it was hard for him to see you but he knew your face had to be swollen from crying. “Because I wanted to hel-“ you cut him off “tell me the truth!” You yelled voice cracking. It pissed him off of course but he didn’t say anything he let you yell. You stood up and walked to him remaining far enough so you could run if needed. “You killed those kids, you killed them in here and now you’re going to kill me because I know.” He stared blankly at you. “I told you I didn’t kill them..” he said in a soft tone which confused you. “Albert tell me.” “Don’t call me that-“ cutting him off again “why does it matter! You’re gonna kill me anyway!” With that Albert walked closer to you making you back up. “I was going to kill you! You wasted my time trying to find that stupid!” Albert caught himself growling “I should have killed you I don’t want you here! You are an inconvenience to me. And I have the perfect way of getting rid of you.” He said his tone darker then ever. You watched his every move tears falling down his words hurt you deeply especially since you were falling for him. Which you hated yourself for.

Albert watched you then suddenly charged after you, you ran to towards the door which he blocked so you ran down the small hall forgetting it led to a dead end. You tripped over a little hole in the floor and Albert was quick to grab your leg and pull you towards him but you kicked his hand with your free foot and got up running to grab the lid of the tank on the back of the toilet. Albert chuckled at your poor excuse to defend yourself but when he charged at you again you hit his chest with the lid causing it to break and him to stumble backwards leading you to quickly and I mean quickly run pass him and up the stairs. You stopped in your tracks when you saw a man in what looked to be the kitchen. Confused you looked at the man. “Oh hello, I didn’t know my brother had visitors this late. Are you okay?” You were stunned. “I-I’m sorry Al didn’t tell me he had a roommate.” You put on a fake smile and facade. Hearing Albert’s heavy steps running up the stairs over the random man’s voice you knew you were caught so you did what you thought best “ I’m sorry if we woke you!” You said raising your voice over the man’s just as Albert entered the room. “I wanted to try something new.” You chuckled and smiled out of breath from running. “Ohh okay I’m sorry to cockblock” Max joked. “Cool mask!.” You looked up at Albert seeing his anger radiating off him and the pure shock in his eyes. “Sorry he’s embarrassed.” You faked a smile and Max laughed “Well I’ll just be in the living room have fun with your ‘trying something new’” he smiled brightly flashing the grit of powder on his teeth before turning and walking back into the living room.

You looked up at Albert with a mean look, Al growled and quickly grabbed your arm. “Max! Could you run to the store for a minute or two.” Albert shouted starring at you watching your eyes grow. Max chuckled. “I can definitely do that it’ll be a little strange for me to hear that.” Albert kept starring at you and you kept starring right back hearing Max grab keys and then shut the door. Once the door shut Albert grabbed you by your hair causing you to yell out before he pulled you into the bathroom throwing you down into the tub grabbing after your legs and arms as you tried to kick him. Somehow Albert was able to turn the water on and the shower head, cold water shot out coming down on you like needles. You cussed at the coldness but continued to try to push and kick Albert off of you. With the tub filling fast with cold water, you were drenched. After a few minutes of Albert trying to push your head under the water and you fighting against it, Albert finally got a grip on your wrist and pulled you out the tub. But he quickly turned you around and shoved your head in the water trying to drown you with both hands on your head you placed your hands on the side of the tub and pushed trying to get up. Albert pulled you up causing you to gasp for air but thinking ahead you quickly flung your hands up to hit him causing his mask to fall off into the water. Screaming Albert covered his face and backed away from you which allowed you to push yourself back hitting the floor in the process. Gasping you pushed your hair out of your face and just started at him watching him freak out in the floor beside the toilet. Catching your breath you stood up dripping water everywhere and walked to the tub unplugging it, throwing the plug on the ground before reaching down to grab his mask. “A-Albert” you called looking at him his knees to his chest and face buried into his hands. “Here” you reached the mask down for him to grab the strap touching his hand making him grab it from you.

Exhausted you walked out the bathroom shivering and nearly fell over catching yourself on the counter. Albert put his mask back on and quickly got up walking over to you. You bent down to sit on the floor and Albert watched you. It was dead silent you could only hear the sound of the water hitting the floor of the shower and the clock tick. “I-I think you’re safe. Your buddy doesn’t know.” You stuttered out trying to catch your breath still. Albert looked at you then at the counter where he had a block of knifes. You looked up at him as you hugged yourself trying to get warm. “Get up” Albert said as he pushed you with his foot. “Please let me sit here for a few minutes then you can kill me. I won’t fight you’ll just over power me again.” You said letting your head fall back on the wall behind you as you gave up causing Albert to smirk but it quickly faded as he saw how pale you were, seeing a blue tint to your rosy lips. He felt bad even with the mask on he knew what he was doing wasn’t right. Albert huffed and sat at the little table taking his mask off rubbing his eyes. You giving up wasn’t an option he saw you doing so now it made him second guess himself.

“I liked you that's why I was so angry with you. Because I couldn’t believe that I would like someone like you but I do. Maybe I’m crazy or just like toxic men.” You giggled which turned into a cough. Albert looked at you without his mask on. He stood up and walked to you grabbing your arm and pulling you up. You just let him, standing there you shivered. Grabbing your hand Albert pulled you to his room. “Albert please..” you looked up at him scared “I’m not going to hurt you..” Looking into his blue eyes you nodded. Then proceeded to look at his unmasked face. “You’re quite beautiful.”

Albert didn’t say anything he just proceeded to unbutton your pants and pull them down. Stepping out of them you watched him tensing up as he went for your shirt pulling it over your head. Covering your chest you watched him walk to his closet and pulled out a brown button up shirt which he handed you. Grabbing it you put the shirt up and started to button it but your fingers were shaking too much so Albert buttoned it for you as you proceeded to breakdown again. Crying hard Al pulled you to him hugging you tightly. “Please don’t.” Sobbing you pleaded. He hushed you and guided you to the bed to lay down which you did continuing to sob all Albert could do was hold you and let you cry.

I sighed as she finally fell asleep. Her face was red and tear stained I never felt this bad before but I can’t deny it anymore I do care about her even though she can be a bitch it’s none of her business to know about what I do or did but maybe we could make this work just maybe.

Thank you for reading! This part 2 was long overdue lol but I hope you guys enjoyed it!

[desideriumwriter]

Anyone Else But You | Chapter 1 | F.W

Chapter Summary - The introduction to all the reasons why reader despises the Weasley twins, especially Fred Weasley.

Pairing - Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Category - enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, slowburn

Content Warnings - animal abuse? (fred & george feed a firework to a salamander.) 

Word Count - 1.5k

Series Masterlist | F.W Masterlist | Next Chap | Navigation | 

There’s no one who irritates you more than the Weasley Twins. 

They’re loud, immature, unreliable, clumsy, arrogant, touchy, careless, childish, stubborn, just genuinely stupid. It’s as if everything you hated had been mixed together and formed into two tall, redheaded, teenage boys. 

Ever since you started your first year with them, it’s felt as if they’re the most agitating people in the world. Now you're all in your fifth year, and they’ve only gotten worse since then. 

It’s bad enough that you got put in the same house as them, you also somehow got multiple classes with them every year, and that your parents were friends with their parents. But, what added fuel to the fire was that they knew you didn’t like them, that you found them annoying and unfunny, and that only made them pester you more.

Yet it was surprising you were able to make friends with their younger brother, Ron. He didn’t care about your hatred for the twins, he agreed sometimes on how they would take their “pranks” too far, especially with him. He spilled to you about the plenty of times they used his phobias against him, when Fred turned his teddy bear into a spider when he was younger, they practically fueled his fear of spiders, or when both of the twins tried to get him to make an unbreakable vow when he was only five.

Ron also told you about how they tormented his other siblings as well.

George once admitted (proudly) that he and Fred attempted to shove Percy into a tomb while on a trip to Egypt, however, their mum caught them in the act, and they put beetles in his soup. They let off a dungbomb under their elderly aunt's chair on Christmas day. Even though you heard about their elderly aunt being unpleasant and unsympathetic, it’s risky to scare a 107-year-old with something explosive.

They would mess with their older brother Charlie, who studies and takes care of dragons now, by hiding his books about dragons or pretending that they accidentally destroyed them.

The twins seemed the most lax with Ginny, you didn’t hear about too many mean pranks being pulled on her. They would scare her by jumping up behind her with creepy masks on or steal all her food off her plate when she wasn’t looking. She was probably the favorite sibling to them.

There were so many more events that gave you more reasons to hate them.

In their first year, they set off a dungbomb in one of the corridors, the smell wouldn’t go away for days, it lingered through the air and anyone even remotely close would unwillingly get the strong, foul, disgusting smell of it in their nostrils, also if you walked through the gas, the smell would stick to you. 

They fed a firework to a salamander, they wanted to ‘see what would happen’. You accidentally and unwillingly witnessed it, making the mistake of choosing to study at the lake that day.

They’ve hidden and messed up Percy’s Head Boy badge, they nearly made their poor brother cry because of it.

At the end of Second year, they set off the last of their Filibuster Fireworks on the train ride home.

They constantly stole items from other classmates, including you. There have been multiple times your textbooks and/or notes have gone missing for several days. When your stuff would magically appear on your bed in the dorms, there’d be a note attached to it saying “Thanks for letting us borrow this!” or something along the lines of that. Also, little doodles and drawings on the sides of your notes and sometimes your textbook.

Sometimes they wouldn’t even put your textbooks or your notes on your bed, they’d hide them. Putting them in your nightstand drawers, under your bed, behind the curtains, inside your closet, on top of the closet, and even inside of your pillowcase. You remember the first time they hid it there.

You had stayed up far too late studying in the common room, there was a test in Snape’s class in the morning that you definitely weren't ready for. You decided maybe you should go to bed after your head nearly hit the table you were sitting at for a third time due to you falling asleep.

You closed your notebook and gathered your supplies, heading up to the girl's dormitory. Too tired to put your things away properly, you put them on the floor next to your bed. You turned off your lamp and flopped down onto your pillow. Instead of feeling a cool, soft, and comfortable cushion touch your head, you hit your head on a large, solid, and heavy textbook.

You hissed out loud in pain, causing a few girls to groan and stir in their sleep. You sat up and held the side of your head which was now stinging, you wouldn’t be surprised if you got a lump the next day due to how hard your head smacked into it.

You turned back on the light next to your bed, you looked at your pillow, noticing the large rectangular shape inside it, you could see the cover of your textbook with a small piece of paper stuck on it through the sheer fabric. Angrily, you took your textbook out of the pillowcase, taking the folded piece of the paper that was on the front and opening it.

Thanks for letting us borrow this! Sweet dreams!

                                      Much love, F and G!

You would’ve screamed and stormed your way over to the boy's dorm to beat both of the twins with the book if it wasn’t past midnight and if you weren’t in a room of sleeping girls. All you could do was put the textbook with the rest of your things and go to sleep angry, or at least try to sleep, now that you were wide awake and your head was throbbing.

Anyways, they also cheated all the time, they’d constantly bug you for answers in the middle of tests when they didn’t even need them. You hate to say this, but they were insanely good at potions. It makes sense how they created all those sweets. They would be able to fly through the tests in less than ten minutes at least, but they didn’t, they were lazy, so they’d mooch off you. When they’d get caught, they’d both blame you, which nearly got you in trouble with Snape several times.

Speaking of professors. They would mess with them. They threw snowballs at the back of Professor Quirrell's head. But, after learning the truth about what was going on with Quirrell under the head scarf. Maybe that could be the only thing they’ve ever done that was somewhat valid. It was still bad for Quirrell, he was already taking enough sneering from students the entire time he was working at the school, he was just being used as a vessel.

But that's not the point we’re talking about here. 

There are way too many reasons for why you hate those redheaded twins. You didn’t understand how people put up with them, how they found them entertaining and funny. They were embarrassing. You hated how they excused themselves from responsibility. How they claimed everything they did was a “joke” or “prank” to get out of trouble.

It was like your brain was programmed to put you in a bad mood anytime you thought of them or were around them. Your eyes would roll annoyedly at the sight of them. You would get snippy and aggressive if they even tried talking to you. You did everything in your power to keep yourself away from them for the sake of your mood.

Their entire existence made your blood boil. Fred especially. He’s the worst out of the two of them. But there’s a difference between him and George. Fred is the instigator, George smooths things out, but that doesn’t mean he’s not trouble though. George is less annoying, only a bit less annoying. He’s nearly as annoying as Fred, but it seems as if Fred is more determined to get on your nerves.

And he is. You can tell.

He becomes louder when near you, constantly taps on your shoulder, asking for something when he already knows you won’t give him whatever it is or pretends like he didn’t, he also throws things at you and pretends that he doesn’t, lies or says things wrong on purpose just for you to scoff and correct him, calls you nicknames that you hate, teases you for whatever he can find, it’s as if he nitpicks anything you do so he can use it against you to annoy you, he does every little thing that peeves you only because he wants to get some type of reaction out of you, and the only reason on why he does it? He thinks it’s funny. 

Fred isn’t completely fond of you either.

He knows what bothers you, what gets on your nerves, what makes your blood boil, then he uses it against you, to piss you off. You’re not sure how exactly he knows so much, but just somehow he does. Either it could be because he knows legilimency (which is very unlikely) or it’s that he’s just been listening in on your conversations with friends.

Whatever, what you are sure of is that you can’t stand the Weasley twins. You hate the Weasley twins. You hate Fred and George Weasley. You hate Fred Weasley. You hate him with every bone and muscle in your body.

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