#if I finally get around to it instead of nitpicking this stupid hair for the rest of eternity

[gottagobuycheese]

sometimes I wonder where this flagrant disregard for personal safety comes from and then I have to yell at my mom not to stick her head in a live fireplace so I think that’s at least one mystery solved actually

#genetics is just a giant circle #and the circle is a target sign #to be fair I did ask if the chimney was open so that's on me #but I thought she would've waited #I absolutely would've done the same (and have done similar) #but SHE'S the adult so SHE should know better #...actually I guess now we're both the adult #gross #Cheese's personal molasses #[older colleague voice]: but why didn't you just turn off the radiator before sticking your hand behind it to grab what you dropped? #WELL IF I COULD TURN MY BRAIN ON AT WILL WE WOULDN'T BE HAVING THIS CONVERSATION NOW WOULD WE #anyways nothing and no one is on fire so I will jot that down as a success #the personal record for most days alive in a row continues #the rest of the fire for this evening will be purely digital #(well aside from the fireplace) #if I finally get around to it instead of nitpicking this stupid hair for the rest of eternity #would LOVE to be able to post this without descending into the headache that is coloring #but tragically this piece was conceived for the sole purpose of the hypothetically Cool Colors #now just to see if I can actually pull it off...

[dorimena]

𝕭𝖆𝖇𝖊, 𝕴'𝖒 𝖋𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; Todoroki Shoto

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 1.8k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fluff, angst, media slander, body criticism, mentioned dieting, crying

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; Endeavor is a slightly better dad, slight self-hate, implied BakuTodo

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; this was kind of rushed, so it’s not proofread yet. I’ve taken some ideas from our conversation!

It happened all too suddenly.

It wasn’t supposed to happen all too suddenly.

It wasn’t supposed to happen at all.

If there’s a reason that justifies why you ignore the media and rightfully hate most talk shows, then what’s happening in front of you should be a good one.

Because Shoto looks like he’s about to… do nothing about it. He’s not really speaking or reacting much, simply staring at the screen with such a dull light on his face, resignation showing itself as he struggles to keep himself composed, keep himself scarce of any emotion but neutrality.

He’s failing terribly, but he wouldn’t know, and you wouldn’t tell him. It was meant to be a relaxing Thursday evening, where Fuyumi sent over some food and Natsuo ever-so-kindly sent a six-pack of beer with her to help you and Shoto unwind from such a hectic week full of arrests, busts, investigations, interrogations.

It feels like you’re somehow doing police work rather than your respectful ones, which is something you’d look into after figuring out why the media decided to suddenly talk about Shoto’s weight gain. It’s nothing new for you, for him, for your friends, for your family, for anyone who knows Shoto. Most people assume he’s picking up more mass to form bigger muscles, others simply enjoy the new Shoto, and the kids are beginning to no longer go up to him to bully him for the weird capsules around his waist, but rather to invite him to play with them.

Shoto was beginning to feel so much more comfortable in his skin, he was beginning to love his new body and the small changes that occur as he continues to slowly tone his muscles. He’s even accepted not to gain back his muscular form, simply keeping in mind the change in dynamic between him and the general public.

No one’s pointed a finger at him.

No one’s talked badly of him.

No one’s ever criticized him over his change.

Everyone was just glad prohero Shoto was fine and recovering well from his unexpected injuries.

So watching how these two talk show hosts are talking shit about his weight gain and ridiculing the way he looks in his clothes is making your blood boil.

On the screen, there are two pictures: the one on the left is a recent picture that made it on the newspaper as people thanked Shoto for saving a few kids from a terrible house fire; the one on the right is a picture from when Shoto was 16.

How could they be stupid enough to compare a teenager’s body with an adult’s?!

It’s like comparing a five year old’s drawing with a professional drawing, yet they’re ridiculing and nitpicking the professional and praising the child’s drawing.

It’s a weird analogy in your mind, but it’s the only thing that tries to help you understand why they think it’s necessary to suddenly bring up something so personal, so private, from someone?

When they switch to an improvised interview with Endeavor, Shoto shrinks a bit into the couch, leaning more into your side as you both listen to what his father had to say with such personal questions about his youngest son’s ‘recent’ weight gain.

Shoto knows his father’s opinion: Endeavour doesn’t care. But not in a ‘fuck you’ type of way, but in a ‘it’s your life, and if you’re happy, so be it.’

He’s changed quite a lot from when Shoto was younger, yet watching the way his father’s eyebrows furrowed in anger and snarl at the question had Shoto wonder if his father really isn’t bothered by his weight gain.

Slight weight gain, might you need to remind him.

But instead of listening to Endeavour criticize his son and agree with the commentaries, he yelled at the reporter for being so selfish and careless, how he’s keeping Endeavour from continuing his task of making sure recently rescued citizens are doing well or not.

And when pushed further for an answer, the older man sighs and explains how even though Shoto’s changed, he doesn’t see it in his weight, but rather his person and strength, a change in power, to which he’s proud of and only ever concerns him other than the general well-being of his son.

The talk show hosts don’t seem to be happy with the sappy response, probably waiting for the hero to maybe help feed the drama. So, they take matters into their own hands: try convincing the audience the number one prohero is probably only lying to save his image and pride.

Now that hurt a lot, seeing how they’re trying to change the context and make Endeavor into the asshole bastard of a father he stopped being time ago.

But it was enough to make Shoto stand up and walk silently to your bedroom.

You know what he’s doing, know what he’s probably thinking as he stares and scrutinizes his image in the mirror.

You mute the TV, rubbing a hand over your face as you head to the bedroom, frowning when you catch the way he subtly brushes away some tears. The more you watch, the more you feel like crying with him.

It’s so frustrating being a prohero, especially one admired by the media merely by his looks and status rather than talent and power.

He hasn’t done anything wrong to suddenly be bashed and hated on, to become such a joke and be ridiculed to the point his self-love and appreciation is thrown to burn in a trash can just so those pathetic celebrities can get a paycheck making people’s lives miserable.

Heck, there’s a prohero flaunting around about paying escorts to offer services at a party and they’re off the hook, apparently.

You can’t keep watching Shoto tear himself apart, not when it took so much patience, understanding, acceptance, appreciation, reassurance and love to build up his confidence again.

You don’t really speak, just go to the mirror and flip it over, stopping Shoto from glaring at himself, but it makes him finally let out a pained whimper, one full of dejection and hurt.

You got him quickly, wrapping your arms around him as his body shakes as held-back cries finally leave his system, doubt flooding his mind and insecurities coming back in full swing.

You manage to get you both to the bed with some awkward shuffling and lots of squirming, making sure his head is resting on your chest so that he hears your heartbeat while you brush his hair with your fingers, whispering and mumbling how he shouldn’t listen to them, that they’re lying, that their opinion doesn’t matter because they’re so unhappy and insecure about how confident he was.

How he’s a stronger person than they are for accepting and loving his body instead of succumbing to cheap plastic surgery to hide away his imperfections, which he has none.

How he’s a more beautiful person than they are for being so kind and generous to everyone that he sees, being polite and offering help where he sees they need.

How he’s a powerful person, not because he’s the son of Endeavor, but because he just carries his own influence over people, how they simply are drawn to him because of how he is and who he is personally, how naturally charming he is when he speaks and treats people.

You spill every confession, every praise, every single word you could think of to help sooth him from his hiccups, to ease him into tranquility while you both figure out how to carry on such harsh criticism about his body.

Shoto eventually starts laughing, shoulders shaking as he finishes wiping his tears. You’d be concerned, but knowing him, he must’ve associated this moment with something else.

And you are right.

“Remember when Bakugou came and bluntly told me how I’ve gained weight?”

“Yeah. You were ready to cry.”

“Yes, but I didn’t get to, because Bakugou directly told me, with no hesitation, how it makes me look healthier in an ‘odd’ way and how adorable I look. Later he threatened to feed me snacks if I ever think of strictly dieting.”

You nod, wondering where he’s getting at with this, not like it’s out of the blue.

“If a guy like Bakugou doesn’t see a problem with my weight gain, then, why did they?”

His voice went soft, quiet, as his question lingers in the air for some time before you shrug, holding him closer to your body.

“Maybe because they’ve never learned to love themselves, and you did because you’re a better person than they’ll ever be. You don’t ridicule anybody if you see a change, simply tell them about it and help them figure out how to fix it if they don’t want or like it.”

Shoto remains quiet, basking in the comforting silence as his head throbs a bit as a warning.

Pressing a palm into one of his eyes, he mumbles “do you think my father’s embarrassed of me?”

You hum, shaking your head immediately as you figure out your words.

“Your father seemed more embarrassed about how invasive these people are and how they were making him a fool rather than your newfound softness.”

You scratch Shoto’s head, playing with his hair as you try flipping the white strands to where the red strands lay.

“I think if your father were truly embarrassed, he would’ve forced you back into a diet a long time ago, or would’ve been around to monitor you. But he didn’t, because when he saw you after your accident, I heard him quietly thank the heavens that you’re safe and doing well rather than fuss about how your cheeks look fuller.”

Shoto tries to remember, but he was in the kitchen bothering his sister, but somewhat helped put the table when you guys went to visit for lunch a few months after his discharge.

But you’re right. His father would’ve done something sooner if his weight gain were an issue, but the old man didn’t. He even sent over some food and snacks from time to time, and still does, but a little less often. Whether it’d be because he caught wind of Shoto trying to slowly ease back with the sweets or because of the demand of his assistance in some missions.

You guys stay in bed, eventually falling asleep from the exhaustion of the random roller coaster the media decided to put you both in, more on Shoto than on you. But you went to sleep with a bit of ease, knowing Shoto’s at least trying to cheer himself up as well and realize the media’s opinion isn’t as valid to him as the opinion from those he loves and cares about.

But your sleep was interrupted when you heard your phone blaring in the living room. Shoto luckily is snuggling into his side of the bed, so you manage to walk quietly towards where your device sat and check the caller ID.

It’s Bakugou, and when you answer, he demands to know how Shoto is, how he took the bullshit those talk show hosts decided to spill and if he can pay a visit in the morning, wanting to check himself how the sleeping man is doing.

You’re sure Shoto will very much appreciate the hothead of his friend visiting.

#𝔖𝔬𝔣𝔱! 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔬 #❀; purity #bnha fluff #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #𝖙𝖔𝖉𝖔𝖗𝖔𝖐𝖎.𝖘

[honey-makki]

grandma’s blessing

best friend!hanamaki takahiro x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of death (family member), oral (fem receiving), fire, probably unsanitary cooking conditions if i’m being honest (it’s soft i swear)

summary: the holidays are your favorite time of year. your best friend hanamaki tries to keep holiday cheer alive despite the loss of a family member.

word count 2.4k

masterlist

Holiday’s are tricky. Decisions on whether the trauma of going home will be a heavier burden to bear than the guilt and loneliness of your city apartment. GOing home was never a pleasant experience. Trips filled with parents nitpicking your seemingly successful life and emotionally battering you about anything and everything they could. The only reprieve would be hugging your grandmother and being able to see her face-to-face during dinner. She understood why you didn’t come home every opportunity and didn’t blame you a bit.

On years when it would be too much to travel, you knew that she would still give you a call. Spending all day on the phone with you while you bounced around the kitchen making much smaller portions of what they would be eating at home. Even the small amounts of silence on the call were comfortable. You could feel her next to you kneading the dough for a pie while you mixed together the fruit base. It felt like home.

The silence that has been living in your apartment the past few months after her passing was suffocating. Weekends spent with friends at their apartment just to get out of somewhere that just seems to reek of death and despair.

You had spent more nights at Makki’s place in the past month than at your own. He was your closest friend, a true confidant, someone skilled at lifting your mood, and the person you’ve been undeniably in love with for years. You accepted the fate of growing old with a horde of cats as long as you can have his silly pink hair shining in the sun when you hung out with friends. It’s ok that you are going to be alone forever as long as you still had a standing laser tag date once a month. The only thing stronger than your feelings of love towards the strawberry blond was fear of losing him.

He has been a pillar of strength during the past few months. Holding your crying body until you fall asleep on his tear-stained and snot covered chest. Setting alarms in your phone to make sure you are eating or going to work instead of sitting in a dissociative state. Ever since you shared a bed with him, he’s been a little more comfortable with physical contact. Walking closer together arms touching when going out or throwing an arm over your shoulder when lounging around the house. You can’t count the number of times you’ve both woken up in various stages of cuddling.

He was the one to bring up spending the holidays together. He had just gone home for a wedding and couldn’t afford another ticket and he knew that you were in a weird spot. “We can stay here and make dinner and bake cookies and watch shitty r-romcoms? Someone has to appreciate Hallmark movies, why not us?” You can hear his voice crack and start to speed up as a blush rises across his face. You see it but don’t really process it, more relieved that for the first time in months, the thought of holidays didn’t make you run to the bathroom and throw up. You smiled and nodded, setting plans for him to come over later in the week.

Makki always liked when you cooked, throwing a western spin on dishes he considered normal. But today, he was flabbergasted, you didn’t let him just sit on the barstool curating music while you did all the work, no, there was too much food to be made for him to laze around. You laid out the recipe for your grandmothers’ mac n’ cheese, explaining what everything meant while you got started on an asian fusion stuffing you figured out a few years back.

You stole glances at him in the middle of stirring, combining and folding everything together. His tongue sticks out between his lips while he deliberately measures out the exact amount of cheese required. In all the time you’ve seen him, you’ve never seen him totally lose his laid back air until now, and you can’t control your laugh. Is he really more serious about measuring out sharp cheddar cheese than a game that would take them to nationals? Or that physics final he actually studied for? Your heart skips a beat when you see his soft, satisfied smile to the dish he just created. All you can picture when he looks over to you is how cute of a child he must have been. Cheeks round encasing his bright smile as his head tilts ever so slightly to the left.

After he slides the last dish into the oven, you both opt for taking the time to clean the kitchen, knowing that you won’t want to do it after dinner. The dishes are washed and dried and while Makki puts away the ones that go on a higher shelf, you return flour and other ingredients to the pantry but before you put them down you call out to him, voice lighter than normal, the one you use when asking a favor.

“Taka, how upset would you be if I said I wanted to cook a little bit more?”

“You get dishes this time around then, but what are we makin’?”

You turn out of the pantry with a bounce in your step before slapping down the flour and newly acquired, chocolate chips and sprinkles. “Cookies! We always made cookies with my grandma and it wouldn’t be the same without them.” Your eyes sparkle at the thought of the sweet treats and equally sweet memories of your childhood. Makki thinks you are breathtaking.

“Let me get the bowls back down and we can probably make mediocre cookies if you have anything you do with it.” He smiles at just how cute the squawk you made from his teasing is, just happy that he gets to be here with you. He doesn’t really hear how you defend your baking skills and complain that just because you forgot flour one time doesn’t mean you are inept at baking.

He never thought he would be the type to settle down and be domestic, it just didn’t seem like something he cared a lot about, but now he he can’t rid his mind of the thought of waking up ten minutes before your alarm just to make you a cup of coffee or throwing your favorite blanket in the drier on days it’s raining so when you get home, you can melt into the soft plush and warm up instantly.The clattering of spices brings him back to the moment, turning to see you picking up the cinnamon and vanilla extract.

“You good, love?” There’s something about how you look when you flustered because of him, that scratches an itch he didn’t know was there. The first time a pet name like this had slipped through his lips he was certain that whatever line the two of you were toeing had been crossed, demolished. Instead you just tucked your hair away and averted your gaze back to whatever shitty movie the two of you were “watching” that night. Now it’s normal, well its not normal, its very much not normal for him to refer to you as love or babe and it's not normal for you to exclusivley call him by his first name. It's decidedly abnormal considering your relationship or lack thereof. But if you aren’t going to question it neither is he.

He helps you up and gather the remaining ingredients for the “famous snickerdoodle cookies” that you swear had won awards. The mixing of the dough is interrupted when he has to grab your wrist to stop you from adding salt instead of sugar. You refuse to look at him because you know he is sporting a huge smirk and raised eyebrows, knowing that he’s right about you not being the best baker. You are reprieved by the oven going off, signaling to remove the earlier and change the temperature.

“Damn, babe, these cookies look so good, especially this one.” You return to Makki who already started to lay out the dough on the baking tray. You see perfectly round blobs squished slightly by a fork for a pattern and then right in front of him you see the cookie he was talking about. You didn't expect to see your 27 year old boyfriend-who-isn’t-your-boyfriend to be holding a cockshaoped cookie. But really, you should have seen it coming from the guy who laughs when either of you fart.

He can hear the clock ticking as you just stare, annoyed. He was concerned for a second, that maybe he shouldn’t have made a lewd joke when making cookies. This is something he used to do with her grandmother, you stupid idiot.. But when he can see the apple of your cheek peeking out from behind your hand, he recognizes that face. The one that positively exudes warmth and happiness with her laughter. The butterflies always buzzing in his stomach go wild when this face comes out. He would do anything to see it for the rest of time.

You don’t know where the courage comes from but you cup his cheek for a kiss, he mirrors your action. It just felt normal, and you honestly didn’t realize that it wasn’t normal until you both pulled back. Your eyes are locked on his, both of you sporting a soft smile until his keeps growing, evolving into a laugh that is borderline offensive in how loud it is.

You don’t know why and you get a little nervous that maybe he doesn’t feel the same way, when you go to hide your face, you feel the heat rising but also a soft powdery coating? And that’s when you realize his hands are still coated in flour from shaping the cookies. Your eyes are rolling while you chuckle but Makki on the other hand is losing his mind, almost in tears from laughing while putting the cookies in the oven. “It’s not that funny, Takahiro! Get me a napkin please.”

“Nah, you look really sweet. Good enough to eat.” You weren’t surprised when he returned to kissing you, nor when he lifted you up by your thighs and plopped you on the counter. The kisses are sweet, lazy and perfect for a second kiss, and a third and a fourth. This is normal. His lips belong on yours. Your hands should be tangled up in his hair while his run over your waist and legs. This is right. There's no rush to deepen the kiss, both of you happy to just indulge in the warmth of the other, but it is inevitable. A soft nip at your bottom lip or an accidental tug of his hair, neither of you know what happened first but you both are staring at each other, panting lightly with a much darker gaze than the original flour induced makeout session.

“You are just as sweet as I thought. Gotta have a taste.” His voice is raspier than you’ve ever heard and you just let him move your body as he pleases. Pull your hips to the edge of the counter. Spread your legs as far apart as they’ll go. Lift your hips when he pulls your shorts and underwear down. Gotta act as sweet as he says I am. He has barely touched you but when he falls to his knees and just stares at your dripping slit that he's imagined for years, your eyes, you are already imagining how good he's going to feel.

You shouldn’t even try to think, his tongue exceeded any expectation or desire you had. Expertly flicking against your throbbing clit as he works two fingers in you. You feel the groan he lets out when he dips his tongue into your hole before you hear it. The vibrations reverberate up your spine and through your body, an all-consuming heat starting in your stomach, threatening to let loose, to run rampant on your body. His fingers, joined by another, return to your clenching hole and search for the spongy spot hidden deep inside. All you can hear is the blood rushing through your head, drowning out every other noise.

“C’mon love, cum on my fingers, on my tongue, I’ve wanted, dreamed about this for years, give it to me.” His slow words juxtaposed the fervent pace of his fingers and it was enough to send you over the edge.

You feel so hot you fear you might pass out, the groan Makki lets out beneath you is the only thing keeping you grounded. You were first concerned that you had hurt him in someway, but when you see his eyes roll back into his head and his tongue trying to lap up every single bit of cum you squirted on his face and thighs, you know it wasn’t due to excruciating pain, rather it's just an obscene reaction to you.

When you push him back, squirming with overstimulation, you hear him scramble and “Shit! Fuck! Fire extinguisher?? WHERE IS YOUR FIRE EXTINGUISHER???” You are still out of it until he starts actually screaming, words still evade you but he follows your line of sight to the red tube hiding in the corner next to the fridge. The smell of smoke is overwhelming all of a sudden. You were in a dreamlike post orgasmic state and suddenly your coughing, eyes hazy.

the cookies, SHIT THE COOKIES!! Smoke is billowing out of the oven and your fire alarm is blaring, but soon the room is filled with a white foam originating from Makki. You never realized that the foam would continue to expand until half of your kitchen was covered in it and you saw a sheepish looking Makki on the other side.

“Fires out”. Again, he starts to laugh at you, and this time you join him. Today has turned out entirely different than you expected. It wasn’t a sad day, it was filled with laughter, romance, an ill timed fire and Makki. All in all, a successful holiday, despite the fact everything you cooked was coated in foam. He’d seen you staring at the food and already took his phone out to order food, “Indian or ramen?”

Yeah, you think you’re grandma would be happy seeing you like this. Happy Holidays.

a/n: i don’t really know what this is but the image of makki being a disaster in the kitchen came to me one day and here we are. make sure you read the other fics in the collab

matsukawa’s funeral home winter collab

a/n 2.0: also a/o to @iwaasfairy for making that makki image that i used in my header. i love her more than i love him which say a lot

#hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki drabble #hanamaki x y/n #hanamaki smut #haikyuu smut #makki smut #makki x reader #makki x you #hanamaki x reader #hanamaki.coffee #kristen.writes #oral.espresso

[letsfluxshitup]

we're like a family of divorce (ao3)

Techno dragged up the metal tub from his basement, setting it in front of the fire. He filled it with warm water, setting out clean warm pajamas and a towel on a chair. He laid out all the fancy soaps he had, gifts from when he first arrived.

He saved the shampoo and conditioner, setting them aside for later.

Tommy entered the house, loud and abrasive and a lot.

"What's up, Big Man?" He shouted, tugging at Techno's loose braid, poking at his tusks, forcing Techno to witness him.

He was always so high energy, demanding attention, positive or not. Techno didn't understand it but it made Tommy happy to be the center of attention, something Techno more frequently than not shied away from.

He blinked back into the present, gesturing vaguely at the tub.

"You stink." He deadpanned, and it wasn't necessarily true, but the kid needed to sit down for a second. 

He'd been high energy since he arrived, and seemed perfectly fine. But Techno knew Tommy, knew his quirks and his tells. Saw the dead look in his eyes, the way he flinched away, his fear and sadness.

Techno didn't know what happened, but he knew something did, and he needed to protect him and care for him.

So he guided Tommy towards the tub, nitpicked at him about his hair, and disappeared upstairs. 

--

"Do you need a haircut?" He called from where he was sitting in his rocking chair, glancing through a book Philza had handed him when they last met. 

It was a potions guide, and he was quietly happy that Philza had taken the time to carefully draw out visuals and diagrams, tucked into the book at relevant intervals.

He glanced towards the stairs, catching the tail end of a mumbled response.

"What?" He called, looking at the stairs so he wouldn't get distracted again.

"Are you gonna cut it?" Tommy shouted back, punctuated by a splash. Techno flinched, there was no way the kid wasn't making a mess down there.

"No." He responded, looking back towards the book. 

Quackity could cut short hair, he knew. They weren't exactly on talking terms but surely he'd set that aside to help out Tommy?

Maybe? Probably? 

It's not like Techno couldn't just make him cut Tommy's hair, but threatening him was probably not the best fix for their already rocky relationship.

"Then why'd you ask?" Tommy shouted again, "And where's the shampoo?" 

"I have the shampoo," Techno said, eyeing the bottle where it sat across from him, "and Quackity can cut your hair." 

"Quackity? Isn't he trying to kill you?" Tommy's voice sounded muffled, sloshing denoting him getting out of the tub and Techno cringed again thinking about his floor.

He wasn't sure what to say to that, actually. 

"Are you… Ok with Quackity coming by?" He asked instead, maybe it wasn't the best idea to invite someone with so much... Violent intent into his home with the kid. 

"Big Q's great! I mean, he tried to kill you and stuff but I'm not, like, scared of him. As long as you're ok, y'know?" Tommy fumbled up the stairs, hair still dripping and fluffy pajamas noticeably damp. 

Techno didn't comment on it.

"You don't have to worry about me, Tommy," he said lightly, hoping his tone conveyed comfort. 

Tommy really shouldn't have to worry about his brother's potential murderers, he was just a kid and Quackity wouldn't try to start anything if he was around.

"Anyways, I'll message Quackity, see what he says, alright?" Techno pulled out his communicator, picking at the layers of stickers on it. Tommy had helpfully redecorated it after his previous one had gotten destroyed in his execution.

Attempted execution, that is.

It didn't take much to convince Quackity to come over. It didn't take anything, actually.

Quackity? Techno typed, and almost instantly got a reply.

no

Tommy needs a haircut

fuck off

You remember how to get here?

yes

--

"Well? Where's Tommy?" Quackity huffed, shivering as he rubbed his arms. He should have worn a heavier coat but he didn't have any because he didn't live in the middle of the fucking Arctic.

"Big Q!" Tommy shouted as if on cue, barreling down the stairs at full speed. Quackity's wings flared out to steady him as he caught Tommy, squeezing him tightly.

He didn't say anything about Tommy's clinginess, chalking it up to the exile and the only other source of comfort around being Technoblade.

Fucker probably didn't even hug Tommy.

He was almost instantly proven wrong when Techno cleared his throat slightly, the hug lasting a second too long, and Tommy disappeared from his arms and tucked himself under Techno's.

He firmly reminded himself it was stupid to be jealous of Techno's little brother, but also he was really fucking cold and he knew Techno was really fucking warm.

"So!" He hoisted his bag, "You need a haircut?"

--

It took some finagling but he finally got Tommy to sit in front of the sink properly, and went to work on washing his post haircut hair.

The water was a soothing backdrop as Quackity lathered shampoo into his hair, absently asking Techno for a hairbrush.

Tommy was quietly amazed at how easily Quackity bossed Techno around, his brother instantly responding to any command.

He'd successfully bullied Techno into handing over one of his capes, at Quackity's insistence that it was fucking cold. Techno was now tending to the fire at Quackity's request, and it seemed almost natural.

He knew Techno was more than happy to help the people he cared about, but he'd never really considered that Techno cared about Quackity.

"Are you and Quackity broken up or something?" Tommy blurted out without thinking, interrupting Quackity's soft chirping.

Quackity made a choking noise before accidentally dumping water on Tommy's face, sending him into a fit of painful coughing as it went up his nose.

"Sorry, Toms," Quackity cooed, carefully running his fingers through Tommy's wet hair.

"Is fixing people's hair like a bird thing or some shit?" Tommy asked, leaning into Quackity's hands, "Philza does the same thing and he's like a bird." 

"Yeah, kind of. I think so." Quackity stuttered slightly, straightening Tommy's pajama shirt and dabbing away the spilled water on his face with a towel.

Tommy's face scrunched up in concentration for a second, before he let out something that sounded pretty close to a happy coo.

Quackity cooed too, and they cooed back and forth. Techno couldn't help his pleased snort, happy they were getting along and safe and content.

Tommy's head snapped towards him, instantly reciprocating the snort, and while still unnatural for him he managed to replicate it a lot better than the coo.

Techno watched, vaguely amused, as Tommy nudged his head against Quackity's chest. Growing up around hybrids gave him a weird mix of behaviors, but Quackity was quick to catch on, and he lightly nudged Tommy back.

--

As Techno set up for dinner Quackity and Tommy sat at the table, heckling him and generally being a nuisance.

"You're burning the fucking bread!" Tommy shouted, far too loud in the small space, but his energy seemed slightly more subdued. Less manic, more... Genuine.

Techno rolled his eyes, tugging open the oven door.

"No, see, look it's fine." He squinted at the bread. It did look a little too brown around the edges but he definitely wouldn't tell Tommy that.

Instead, he reached into the oven and grabbed the bread pan with his bare hands, smirking slightly at twin panicked shrieks from behind him.

"Techno what the fuck! You're going to burn your fucking hands, dumbass!" Quackity appeared in front of him, snatching his hands to check the damages after Techno set the pan down.

Quackity blinked at his unharmed hand in confusion, wings settling from where they'd flared in his panic.

"What's the diagnosis, doc?" Techno deadpanned, prompting Quackity to look up. 

They were nearly nose to nose and Quackity was staring directly into his eyes. He shifted slightly, uncomfortable, but didn't look away.

"Are you two going to kiss?" 

Trust Tommy to ruin the peace, Techno thought as Quackity shrieked.

"No we're not going to fucking kiss!" 

--

Quackity was leaning against the arm of the couch, Techno sat on the other side, Tommy flopped across the two of them, trapping them.

"So, you're in exile, right, Techno?" Tommy said, lifting his head slightly from Quackity's lap.

"Yes," Techno sighed, shifting slightly under Tommy's bony legs.

"Huh." Tommy said, before saying more quietly, "I like exile with you a lot more than when I was with Dream." 

Techno tried not to let his expression shift, he'd picked up bits and pieces of his exile but nothing concrete. He still didn't know what happened.

"Oh?" Techno said, voice carefully even.

"Yeah." Tommy responded, tilting his head away from Quackity to stare at the fire. "He- I- he wasn't as nice as you are, y'know?"

Techno didn't, didn't think he'd been doing a good job of taking care of him, but he nodded anyways.

"He..." Tommy sniffled suddenly, furiously scrubbing at his eyes.

Quackity quietly ran his fingers through Tommy's hair, a comforting croon soft in the air.

"He was a real dick, y'know?" Tommy said, desperately high energy, like he could forcibly will away his bad feelings. His voice gave him away, though, thick with tears.

"Tommy?" Techno said, voice soft, "what happened in exile?"

And Tommy broke.

He flung himself into Techno's arms, burying himself in his arms, as he babbled about what had happened, incoherent and a mess.

Quackity tucked himself against Techno's side, curling his arm around Tommy's back and stretching a wing out to cover them both. He pressed himself close, face carefully neutral, but Techno noticed. 

Noticed the twitch of his eye, the tension in his shoulders, how he barely held back a snarl.

Finally, Tommy cried himself out, face tucked into Techno's neck as he fell asleep. Techno carefully scooped him up, Quackity a step behind him as he walked up the stairs and laid Tommy in the bed. 

He tossed Quackity a pair of pajamas, and before he could turn away to change into his own Quackity grabbed his arm.

There was a long moment of silence as they stared at each other, dying fire throwing Quackity's features into sharp relief, fury evident.

"You'll help me take down Dream?" Quackity said finally, leaning closer. 

"I owe him," Techno warned, voice soft as he studied Quackity's face. 

Quackity blinked, then leaned ever closer, noses touching this time.

"When it comes down to it, no matter what Dream says or asks for, you'll be on my side? On Tommy's?" 

Techno sighed, leaning forward to press their foreheads together.

"When you put it that way, how can I say no," he deadpanned, arms coming up to wrap around Quackity's waist, comforting and solid.

Quackity snorted, holding up a pinky.

"Pinky promise?" He murmured, and Techno linked pinkies with him, foreheads pressed together, swaying slightly in place.

"Are you two actually going to kiss now?" Tommy whispered loudly, voice slurred with sleep.

Quackity jerked away, startled, as Techno snorted loudly.

Tension dispersed Techno quickly got ready for bed, putting out the fire and flopping onto the side closest to the stairs. Quackity was forced against the wall, Tommy sandwiched between them. 

Techno fell asleep with Tommy's head tucked into his neck, his arm thrown across Techno and his gangly legs sprawled across Quackity. 

#technoblade #quackity #dream smp #dream smp spoilers #if the formattings bad im Sorry im on my phone smfh #flux writes #ok to reblog

[floral-and-fine]

Curious Misfortune part 1

Modern AU

Sandor Clegane x female reader

Warnings: part with guys acting like jerks/creeps

Summary: During the holiday season, the reader finds herself in a small town after she breaks up with her boyfriend.

A/n: The whole inspiration for me starting this fic is the idea of Sandor in flannel. Thank you @luna-xial​ @ewokiee and @liamakorn for the help

“Damn,” you muttered to yourself, as you passed another sign on the highway. None of the small town names looked familiar, and it was far too dark out for you to recognize any landmarks.

You clutched the wheel tightly, angry, and upset over the whole situation you found yourself in. Your damn phone didn’t get any reception out here, wherever you were, and you were hungry, tired, but mostly pissed.

In fact, you wouldn’t have been driving at all tonight on this unfamiliar highway if it hadn’t been for your now ex-boyfriend.

You had come out all this way to spend a nice Thanksgiving with his family, but when you and him arrived, his family had been nothing but rude to you. They nitpicked about everything, your outfit, your job, your education, nothing was good enough for them.

You had hoped that Jaime would’ve done something about it, stick up for you, defend you, however, he pretended not to notice. When you finally couldn’t take it any longer, and you brought it up to him, he acted like an ass and tried to convince you that you were overreacting.

God, you wanted to smack him across the face. You really were better off without him.

You groaned as you glanced at the time, you should be somewhere warm right now, eating pumpkin pie covered with whip cream, but instead, you were...lost, most likely.

Yet to be perfectly honest with yourself, you weren’t in a rush to get back home, because being there meant you’d have to face the aftermath of your failed relationship. Who would move out? Who gets to keep what? If only it could all resolve itself on its own.

You passed a sign, this one indicating that the next town was a mile away. You really ought to stop somewhere, get something to eat at least, that is if anything was still open, it was a holiday after all.

Taking the exit, it led you to a small community, a simple kind of place with small homes and just the basics. As you drove down the main road, you noted that most of the businesses including small diners and restaurants were closed.

It figured the best you could probably do now would be to get a bag of chips or something from the gas station. Just as you were about to give up your search, the blinking red light of an open sign caught your attention. The establishment was just some local bar with just a couple of beat-up old trucks parked out front.

As you got out of your car, you hoped they served food, or at least something besides peanuts, noticing that you were hungrier than you had originally thought.

Opening the door, the few patrons inside turned their heads. You could tell they weren’t used to unfamiliar faces stopping by. There were only a handful of people, a small group of guys by the pool table, a large man in a flannel shirt at the bar, and an old bartender.

You smiled shyly as they watched you walk up to the bar, finally returning to whatever they were doing before once you sat down.

You sat on a stool that was a couple of seats away from the stranger, he didn’t seem to want any company or make any small talk.

“What can I get ya?” The bartender asked, approaching you.  

“Are you still serving food?” You asked hopefully.

“Yep,” he nodded, reaching down and then handing you a menu.

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” you said practically giddy. Quickly, you looked over the options and gave him your order.

As you waited for your food, your eyes wandered over to the man at the other end of the bar. He had dark brown hair and a thick beard, even with him sitting you could tell he was easily over 6’. He sat there quietly, eyes focused on the TV above as he drank his beer. There was something about his posture and intense gaze on the screen that made you feel as though he was avoiding turning his head to look at you.

As you wondered why you almost jumped out of your seat when the bartender placed a plate in front of you. You grinned looking at the spread, before picking up your fork and digging in.

Distracted by the food, you didn’t notice the man taking a quick glance in your direction. He’d never say anything out loud, but you were rather pretty and awfully sweet it seemed.

He couldn’t help but overhear you tell the bartender all about your woes. You talked about your damn ex and his stuck up family and how you had no idea where the hell you were.

Seems like your Thanksgiving was worse than his.

Just as you were about halfway through a slice of pie, the group of boys by the pool table were starting to get rowdy. They were so drunk that they were practically spilling beer on each other and the floor and yelling about stupid bullshit.

The man tsked, annoyed with their behavior, as you tried your best to ignore them and focused on finishing your pie.

“Alright fellas,” the bartender started. “I’m cutting you all off for tonight.”

“C'mon old man,” one of the guys started, most likely the leader of the group. “We’re just having some fun.”

It was obvious they were all looking for trouble, from the smirks on their faces to the way they were holding the pool cues. They slowly closed in on you and the bartender like prey.

“I ain’t gonna repeat myself,” my bartender stuttered. “Get out.”

“Why don’t you make us,“ the leader sneered looking down at the old bartender.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat as they crowded around you. Clasping your hands on top of your lap, you looked down anxious over what might unfold. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end as one of the boys gazed at you like a piece of meat.

“Hey,” he whispered, leaning in so close, that you could feel his breath on the side of your face. “That pie looks pretty sweet,” he purred before he swiped some whipped cream off your plate and licked his finger.

You clenched your eyes shut, feeling sick to your stomach, as he then proceeded to touch your hair.

However it didn’t last long, the man at the end of the bar roughly yanked the boy away from you and practically threw him across the room, before addressing the group.

“Listen you little fucks, unless you’d like me to drag each one of ya out by your hair, you better fuck off,” he snarled.

Swallowing thickly, they scurried to exit, looking absolutely terrified.

You took a few deep breaths to calm your nerves and opened your eyes, quickly wiping away a couple of tears.

Turning around, you looked over to the stranger to thank him, but your mouth hung open for a moment as you noticed the burn scars on the side of his face. They were all over his cheek, forehead, and part of his jaw.

Immediately, he turned away, taking his wallet from his back pocket and leaving some cash on the counter.

The bartender shook his head, grabbing the money and handing it back to the man, “Keep it, Sandor, it’s the least I can do.”

“It was nothing,” Sandor replied, heading towards the door.

Quickly, you got up from your seat and made your way over to him, you couldn’t let him leave without thanking him properly.

Gently you reached out grabbing his hand to stop him. “Thank you,” you said, giving his hand a light squeeze.

He glanced down at you, keeping the scarred side of his turned away from you. “Don’t worry about it.”

You shook your head and smiled up at him, “I was really freaked out, I’m glad you intervened.”

Sandor flushed a little under your gaze, making you smile more. He really seemed like a sweet man underneath it all, maybe a little rough around the edges, but still sweet.

Standing on your tiptoes, you kissed his cheek. “Good night.”

“Night,” he mumbled, the blush on his cheeks had now spread to his ears.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and took out his keys, giving you a nod before pushing the door open. Sandor paused letting out an exasperated sigh when he saw the condition of your car outside.

“Those fucking cunts,” he muttered under his breath. They had smashed the windshields, busted the headlights, and slashed all the tires.

“Girl,” he started, turning back around and looking at you.

“Yes?”

He rubbed the back of his head, “looks like you won’t be getting anywhere tonight.”

“What?” You squeezed past Sandor to get a good look. Your eyes went wide over the state of your car. This fucking day had to have been the worst one in your entire life. Not being able to hold back any longer, you started to cry.

Sandor stood there awkwardly, watching as sobbed into your hands.

It was getting late now, almost midnight, the bar would be closing soon, and he already knew none of the local mechanics were open.

“C’mon, I’ll give you a ride,” he said, placing a large hand on the small of your back. “We’ll get this all figured out in the morning.”

You peeked up at him, lowering your hands slightly. “What?” You hiccuped.

“You can stay at a motel for the night,” he explained. Sandor wouldn’t blame you if you said no, figured you might be cautious accepting a ride from him, but the least he could do was offer. He wasn’t sure what other options you had.

Wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you nodded, “Alright, thank you.”

“My trucks this way,” he said, guiding you towards it with his hand still on your back.

“Oh,” you perked up. “I need to grab my bag.”

You grimaced looking at the state of your car up close. Those jerks, hopefully, your insurance would cover the damage.

Popping open the trunk, your face fell when you found it empty. In your rush to leave that dreadful house, you must have left your luggage with your ex and his horrible family.

“Fuck,” you huffed, startling Sandor.

He watched in amusement as you stomped around yelling, cursing up a storm, and waving your arms around. You even kicked your car a few times.

Finally, getting it all out of your system, your attention turned to him. “Could we please stop at a convenience store or something on the way,” you said in a defeated voice.

“Get in the truck,” he nodded, opening the passenger side door.

The drive was a quiet one, giving you a chance to admire the small town’s charm. Besides the assholes from the bar, it seemed like a decent place. You were fortunate that Sandor was around to help you, who knows how this night may have unfolded without him.

“Sandor,” you started, curiosity getting the best of you. “Why aren’t you with your family for Thanksgiving?”

His eyes stayed focused on the road ahead as he answered you dryly. “Don’t really have one. I’ve got a brother but I’d rather eat shit than spend a minute with him.”

“I see,” you muttered. “I’m not close to mine either.”

He pulled up in front of a small store, the sign indicating it was 24 hours.

You were pleasantly surprised that Sandor joined you inside to shop, he followed behind you as you browsed, his hands tucked into his pockets as shuffled along. You told him that he could’ve waited in the truck, but he shook his head, muttering that it was fine.

It didn't take long, you only needed a few things to get you through until tomorrow, toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant.

You placed the shopping basket on the counter, the cashier gave you a polite smile, but it faded when she noticed Sandor standing beside you. She intentionally avoided making any eye contact with him.

Before you could get your wallet out from your purse, Sandor had already handed the cashier some cash. Before you could protest, he grabbed the plastic bags and headed for the exit.

“I appreciate it, but you didn’t have to do that,” you said, once both of you were back in the truck.

“Don’t worry about it, you’ve had a rough day,” Sandor interjected.

As he drove, you took a moment to admire him like you had done back at the bar. He was an intense person to be around, but what caught you off guard the most was his thoughtful and considerate behavior.

Arriving at the motel, Sandor sighed, “I know it doesn’t look like the nicest place, but the staff are decent people.”

You smiled, “Thank you again, tonight probably would’ve been a lot worse without you.”

As you were climbing out of the truck, Sandor stopped you.

“Here,” he grabbed something from the back and thrust it at you. “You can wear that instead of having to sleep in your dress.”

You looked at the flannel shirt in your hands, your eyes crinkling as you grinned, “Good night, Sandor.”

He nodded, “I’ll be back in the morning.”

He watched from the truck as you went into the lobby, wanting to be sure everything was alright before putting the truck in reverse and leaving.

#got fanfic #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #got fanfiction #sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane fanfic #reader insert #Female reader #modern au #the hound #the hound x reader

[hyunhour]

in the A.M ] [ minho au

a/n: i wrote this while listening to sunshine - skz and i recommend doing so as well or bonnie and clyde - dean works too! i’m not good at writing fluff (?) but whatever i just really wanted to write one about minho and this whole vibe fit him so well :p for fictional purposes only! enjoy c:

 tsundere!minho, stoner!au, fem!reader x minho fluff, slight angst

 tw: mentions of drinking, drugs & smoking

 word count: 1.6k words> Life had always been a blur. You were always high off into the sky, drinking like your life depended on it, surrounding yourself with guys who shared the same interests as you. The only thing (or person) that kept you sober for a moment, your only escape from reality without getting high, was Minho himself.

The night breeze danced around you, sweeping strays of your hair behind your exposed shoulders. The weird concocted smell of nicotine, weed and hard liquor poisoned you each time you inhaled a deep breath, coursing through your veins. You were sprawled across some random person’s rooftop, with your best friends. You were all each chasing your own individual high, in desperate attempt to escape from the reality that had bound us all to so much misery.

The blunt that you were smoking had long burnt out, it still rested between your fingers, that laid above your tummy. You felt a lean arm snake around your waist, pulling you in. Another arm, a bit more muscular, found it’s way around your shoulders as it tried to prevent you from going to the opposing side. You let your body be tamed by the two selfish boys, as they grumbled in return, playing their own tug-of-war with you in the middle.

“Hands off, Hyunjin.” you hear Jisung almost practically growl in your ear, and you found him nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“Back off, Han. Can’t you see she enjoys it more with me?” Hyunjin’s words were slurred, but that was expectant of him of course, after smoking from the multiple bongs that Changbin had prepared. He was in his own state of inebriated stupor, mumbling some other incoherent words before planting small kisses on your earlobes.

You simply laughed, which eased the tension between the two of them. They let out their own stifled chuckles right after, giggling away. They were too engrossed in their own state of euphoria, as their senses had been heightened a lot.

“It’s..” you pondered, each arm of yours were wrapped around each boy, and your fingers found themselves trying to tame their tendrils that danced in the breeze. “..good to share.” you finished, a smug smirk finding its’ way up to your face. You absolutely adored how these guys tried to establish their ownership on you_. It was cute actually_, thinking that they had you for themselves, when they were the ones wrapped around your fingers effortlessly.

A chorus of “mhm’s” and “ugh’s” followed after your statement. They fell into silence after a while, slumber enwrapping their figures that intertwined with yours.

You felt a pair of eyes burning a hole straight right at you, and you almost instinctively knew who it was. You only barely managed to peel away your eyes from the starry night sky, your vision still as blurry as ever.

But how could you miss that stunning face that had its’ eyes on you, and only you? Minho.

His bottom lip jutted out, and the strays of moonlight illuminated the perfect facial features of his. All the way from tip of his nose bridge, his prominent cheekbones and jawline, and milky white pale skin. He looked absolutely ethereal. He ran a hand through his unkempt brown hair, his shaggy bangs falling into place right above his eyebrows. His eyes were hooded, filled with so much blackness, that it reflected close to nothing.

“Slut.” he mouthed.

Your lips parted agape in shock, but it wasn’t as unsurprising coming from Minho. He took every chance to nitpick at you coupled with his incessant insults and never seemed to acknowledge anything good about you. It hurt at first, but you soon came to terms with it by flinging the same insults at him, if not worse. You weren’t intimidated no longer, instead felt more challenged.

Your grin only grows wider as you pull the two guys by your sides closer, and the two of them gladly obliged as they closed off all space between your body and theirs. Jisung still had his arm wrapped snug around your waist, his breath fanning against your neck. Hyunjin had his arm slung around your shoulders, his thumb rubbing small circles on the side of your clavicle.

You were quick to notice the hint of fury behind his solemn eyes, and it satisfied you to a certain extent to gain that sort of attention from him. He scoffed, rolling his eyes before lighting a new blunt and sitting back on his hands that propped him up.

Changbin was spread out on the rooftop with no care in the world, lost in his own humming of melodies while Felix laid atop his stomach, his fingers that were in the air, swayed to the tunes. Chan had been caught in his own deep slumber, curled up right next to Jeongin and Seungmin that were full of jittery laughter.

Everything seemed to fade out into white noise as your eyes looked only at Minho. He was no longer looking at you, which formed a pit at your stomach. You didn’t want to acknowledge it, so you brushed it off as your so called hatred for him. But you couldn’t deny the attractiveness of this man, he was the epitome of the beauty itself. He seemed to take notice of your eyes lingering on him, as his head whipped to your direction.

He lifted his index finger, motioning for you to come to his side. You were reluctant at first but it didn’t take you long to immediately snake out of the two boys’ holds, and come scurrying to Minho’s side.

A laugh escaped his small pink lips, his teeth barely showing through the small smile. You felt your heart flutter a bit, the butterflies in your stomach practically doing somersaults. “Fuck you.” was all you could say to him, you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. You were so hell-bent on manipulating yourself that you hated this man, simply because you did not want to burst his inflated ego by further pumping it. It did the opposite of repel, you were only feeling more attracted to him than ever.

“Time and place, princess.” he replied nonchalantly, flashing a flirty wink. Gosh, you wished you could wipe off that stupid smirk of his. You slap his arm playfully, and he winces slightly, rubbing his exposed arm. The loose grey muscle tank he wore flashed his biceps, which he was so obviously flexing in front of you, not that you minded it anyway.

After a moment of exchanging weak laughters, he stopped abruptly. His eyes were now glued onto you, it was like something had overrun the darkness inside of them and replaced it with... brightness? You could’ve sworn they glimmered gold for a second, before settling down back into hues of dark brown. You breath hitched at the newfound sight of him.

“You’re so fucking dumb.” he says, inching closer to you. You found yourself backing up just a little, shocked by the close proximity you found yourself in with him.

“What?” you croaked, it barely came out as a whisper. Your heart was threatening to jump out of your throat, all of a sudden all you could hear was the thumping of your unsteady heart, his hot breath fanning against the front of your face. You watched his lips move, but you couldn’t seem to capture anything he was saying.

“So dense. I said I like you, fucking idiot.” he sighs, finally pulling away from being so close to you. You noticed the way his ears had immediately went red, although his facial expression remained stoic. How cute, he was trying so hard to be the arrogant guy everybody built him up as.

The confession didn’t settle in until moments later. You thought that it was your high finally enclosing you. Instead, your vision wasn’t as muddled as before. Your heart was physically thrumming against your ribs. The gloomy sky blended into a garish shade of blue, and scattered stars danced among it. You realized that his face wasn’t as pale as before, they were a light shade of pink now. You could see faint glimmers of stars in his eyes, from the reflections of light perhaps, but time seemed to be perfectly still as you admired his side profile. It looked like he held the universe in his eyes.

Everything was so much clearer and distinct. Like your feelings, that found it’s way out of the cage you kept them locked in, and flowed right out of your lips.

“Me too. I like you too, idiot.” you couldn’t help as the sides of your lips tugged upwards shakily, as his eyes met yours tentatively. He let out a furtive laugh, shaking his head. He patted your head before tussling it a little to annoy you. Why were you two dead set on avoiding each other’s feelings anyway? It seemed all silly now that you thought about it.

“Well fuck, what now?” he breathed, billows of smoke from his blunt overshadowing his face for a moment.

He put the fire out from the blunt by stubbing it onto the rooftop tile. The same cheeky smile was plastered onto his face as his arms were wide open for you. “Come here, princess.” he muttered, and you could have sworn that actual hyperactive butterflies were poking at the insides of your stomach at the new nickname he had for you. All you wanted to do was jump into his arms, and so you did. You tackled him to the ground, as both of you burst into fits of giggles.

Everything fell into place. You could no longer smell the nicotine, or whatever that lingered in the air around the both of you. All you smelt was him, his citrus scent mixed with a faint scent of cheap cologne, he smelt like, home. You found yourself in a newfound safety as his arms pulled you in closer, your racing heartbeat matching his as your head rested upon his chest. You felt his lips leave a peck on your forehead as he tucked the strays of hair behind your ear, leaving a tingling sensation that made you crave for more of his soft kisses.

You whimpered softly, snuggling in closer to his chest, basking in his warmth. It seemed like he understood your desperate pleas as he peppered small gentle kisses all over your face. They left a trail from your forehead, the tip of your nose, your eyes, your cheeks, and finally rested atop your lips. He was taking in every inch of you, worshipping the whole of your perfectly-sculpted figure and embraced you like you were fragile. To him, everything about you was perfect. He saw past the imperfections that you so stubbornly insisted upon. Sparks ignited from within you, and pure bliss melted into the entirety of your body, you were beginning to see white.

It all feels so perfect.

You’re all his now, and it’s fucking real.

#lee know #lee minho #skz minho #skz lee know #lee know fic #kpop fluff #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #minho fluff #lee know fluff #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #kpop fanfic #kpop fic #skz fic #stray kids fic #stray kids au #skz au #stray kids imagines #soft skz #soft lee know #soft minho #stray kids #skz x reader #skz

[fanfictionaries]

Love and Academia Ch. 6 - Punctuality and Pizza

Pairing: AU Professor!Bucky x OFC

Warnings: Swearing, smut, NSFW/18+ only, mentions of death/violence/suicide

Author’s note: Gasp! A jealous Bucky? We get to meet Sam? Some confusing emotions on Emily’s end? 

And as always, I do not currently have a beta reader so please excuse any larger issues. It’s just little ol’ me!

***

Stupid. That’s what she was. Stupid. Emily Lucille Colvert was the stupidest girl alive. It was Friday, and she was still berating herself for her actions on Monday. She had shown up that first day determined to be as cool and detached to Dr. Barnes as humanly possible. She had done a good job of it too. Except for when she hadn’t. Turning the coffee pot off had been a little petty, she would admit that. However, she couldn’t bring herself to feel bad about it. Men who cheated, especially on their wives, deserved to have gross, cold coffee.

Her first mistake had been assuming that he wouldn’t simply search for coffee elsewhere. Rookie mistake Marty—rookie mistake. Her second mistake had been allowing him to pay for her coffee and then of course, her third mistake had been to sink into comfortable conversation with him. It wasn’t until he had accidently grabbed her hand, that she realized how easily she had caved into his charming ways. After that day, she had made sure not to let it happen again. Cold and professional was an understatement for how she interacted with Dr. Barnes. Any time he attempted to steer a conversation away from his classes, her classes, or her research, she shut it down immediately, either finding a way to physically leave or just not responding at all. So far it had worked well. Now, she just had to get through the next ten months with this man and then she was free and clear. She could do that. She could definitely do that.

“Excuse me, ma’am, you wouldn’t happen to know where I can find a blonde girl, about your height, really funny looking?” A deep voice sounded from the doorway of the lab, pulling Emily’s attention away from the excel sheet in front of her.

“Sammy!” Emily jumped up from her desk and launched herself at the tall, dark man. Large arms engulfed her in a tight embrace as he lifted her from the ground with a groan.

“You’re getting heavy girl,” said Sam with a laugh, setting Emily back down. Playfully, she swatted his arm but laughed all the same.

“What are you doing here? I thought you went back to Seattle!”

“I did, and it was nice. But theeeeen I got a job here working for the USGA. You’re looking at the new public relations representative for Idaho,” Sam said, holding his arms out, presenting himself to her with gusto.

“What?! That’s amazing Sammy, I’m so happy for you!” She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him in for another hug. Sam placed a hand around her shoulders and brought another up to cup the back of her head.

“Thank you, Emmy. How’s my favorite girl doing? Life treating you alright? How’s Clint?”

Emily sighed into Sam’s chest, “Well, it’s been better, I can say that. Clint is a…whole story.”

“Uh oh, do I need to kick some ass?”

Emily lifted her head to look up at Sam’s friendly and familiar face. The warm brown eyes held the same twinkle that they had when they’d met, her freshman year. His smooth complexion now held a smattering of curly black hair. He was trying to grow a beard. Again.

“No ass kicking required. How about I tell you about it over beer and pizza tonight? We’ll get the gang together and you can tell us all about this new job.”

“Beer and pizza, it is.”

Their shared smiles were interrupted by the clearing of a throat. Emily looked over to see Dr. Barnes leaning on the doorway of the lab, arms crossed and a scowl deep on his face. The fabric of his white t-shirt pulled tight across his muscular chest. Emily quickly unwrapped her arms from Sam. Her friend though, kept his arm casually slung over her shoulders. Dr. Barnes eyed Sam speculatively, before pushing himself off of the doorframe and walking past them.

“Miss Colvert, I believe we have a meeting in two minutes. Mind joining me in my office?”

“Yes, I’ll be right there, Dr. Barnes,” Emily responded, watching his retreating back disappear into his office.

“Whoa, what happened to Dr. E?” Sam asked, turning towards her.

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Well it’s not as if I signed up for the monthly newsletter Emmy. The man barely remembered my thesis defense, I doubt he’d remember to tell me anything after I graduated.”

“Miss Colvert,” Dr. Barnes interrupted their conversation, leaning out of his office.

“Coming,” Emily responded, not at all pleased with the expression on her advisor’s face. She turned back towards Sam, “I’ll tell you all about it tonight, promise.”

“Okay, text me,” said Sam, giving her another quick hug and turning to leave.

Emily turned back towards Dr. Barnes, the man assessed her with a disapproving expression before turning back into his office. Emily followed him quickly, confused as to what could possibly have him in such a bad mood. Up until today he hadn’t seemed to be one to obsess too much over punctuality. He had already shown up tardy to two of his classes and it was the first week of the semester. So why was he so concerned about her talking to a friend for a few minutes, instead of being there for their meeting at exactly 4 o’clock?

She entered his office tentatively, taking a moment to linger at the doorway and stare at the man sitting at a desk that used to feel comfortable and inviting. Now, it held too many questions. Too many implications. Dr. Barnes was busy arranging some notes in front of him, clearing some space on the messy desk. The afternoon sun shone through his window, light falling across his angular face. His long, dark eyelashes cast a shadow over his cheekbones, only emphasizing the strong mix of masculine and feminine features of his face. Emily could not deny, even now, that he was handsome. Truthfully, it was the fact that he was so handsome that got her into his mess in the first place. Dr. Barnes glanced up at her lingering figure and motioned for her to sit down. She stepped in, taking a seat, all the while eyeing the man in front of her.

It was silent for quite some time before he finally spoke, “Who was that?”

What? “Who?”

“The man that was just here, who was it?” his tone seemed light, but there was a biting edge to it that made Emily feel as though this was anything but a casual question. Was he jealous?

“Sam Wilson. He graduated last year. Dr. Erskine co-advised him.” Emily kept her answer vague, testing her theory.

“Huh.” he busied himself with his computer before leaning back in his chair and finally looking her in the eye. “You seemed quite close,” he said, his expression hostile and accusatory.

“Yes, but not nearly as close as him and his fiancée,” Emily responded, watching the gears turn and click into place in his head. Clearing his throat, he sat up straighter, obviously embarrassed. Emily, however, was as far from embarrassed as she could get. She was seething. Who was this man to get jealous over anyone she may or may not be seeing? He was married for Christ sake! Not to mention, if she recalled correctly from the overheard conversation earlier that week, tonight was date night with Trixie. The audacity had her blood boiling. And honestly, what kind of a name was that anyway? Trixie. No, she stopped herself. She was being petty. It wasn’t that poor woman’s fault that her husband was a lying, cheating bastard. Dr. Barnes was the problem. The stupid, awful man with his stupid, awful handsome face and his admittedly friendly and good-humored personality. That is, when he wasn’t being a jealous asshole.

They spent the next two hours going over her research. Dr. Barnes was surprisingly critical. He pushed and challenged her ideas and thoughts in an annoyingly insightful way. He nitpicked and preened through her proposal, her methodology, the justification behind it, her full data set and even some early data analysis. All the while, Emily found her head spinning at the amount of critique and just how…right he was. While it was frustrating, she wished more than anything that he had been on her research committee from the start. This was exactly the kind of insight and contribution she had been hoping for when Doc confessed that he would be advising her. She just wished that it all hadn’t been spoiled by their night together in that alleyway. Dr. Barnes made it incredibly hard to hate him sometimes. It made the whole situation complicated. She breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally free of him, fleeing from the small office before he could try and talk about anything not work related. She contemplated staying on campus to continue working, but the thought of being anywhere near the man in the adjacent office set her teeth on edge.  So, she left, opting to prepare for her classes next week at home before she met Sam and the rest.  

“There she is!” Sam’s voice boomed throughout the small bar as Emily entered, still attempting to rub the sleep from her eyes. Goody’s had been running and thriving for the past 50 years. It was small, and off the beaten path, but any local to the Pocatello area knew that Goody’s was the place to go if you wanted good pizza and a stiff drink.

“Took you long enough!” Natasha chimed in, standing and pulling Emily into a hug.

“Sorry! I was grading and fell asleep on my couch,” Emily said, setting her stuff down in an empty chair at the table.

“Have they delivered your new mattress yet or are you still stubbornly camping out on the couch?” asked Natasha, sitting back down.

“I think that’s a better question for my back. Why did no one tell me that once I turned 27, I’d no longer be able to just sleep anywhere?”

“Sweetie why are you sleeping on your couch?” asked CeCe, Sam’s long-term girlfriend recently turned fiancée.

“Ugh, I was hoping Nat would have spilled the beans by the time I got here so I wouldn’t have to.”

“Wow, one minute I’m too involved in your life and now I’m not involved enough?” Nat raised an eyebrow, smiling sarcastically as she took a swig from her bottle of Heineken.

“We broke up,” said Emily bluntly. Hoping that if she just got it out of the way, it wouldn’t be such a big deal.

“Oh, Emily I’m so sorry,” CeCe said, reaching out and taking her hand.

“Yea, I’m sorry too Emmy. Breakups are tough for everyone involved,” said Sam, giving her a sympathetic look.

“Tell them why you broke up Emily,” Natasha chided.

“I thought you weren’t going to be as involved in my life Natasha.”

“I changed my mind. I’m very much involved again.”

Emily sighed deeply, “I found him in our bed with his coworker Sharon.”

“Hence, the new mattress. Okay, it’s all starting to make sense now.” CeCe grimaced into her drink.

“And I’m not supposed to kick his ass, why?” Sam asked, leaning back in his chair heavily, frowning.

“Because, it would only make things worse. I don’t want anything more to do with him. You know how I feel about cheating. As far as I’m concerned, he’s just two wasted years of my life. Unfortunate, but just a small blip in the grand scheme of things,” Emily stated resolutely. The group was silent as they took in her statement, Sam and CeCe nodding in support while Nat gave her a skeptical look.

“Hey, didn’t you guys have like a king-sized bed?” Sam broke the silence, looking at her expectantly.

“Yea, California King. Why?”

“Well…it’d be a shame if a perfectly good bed were to go to waste.”

“Baby, we are not putting a used bed in our house,” CeCe stated, shaking her head.

“Why not? It’s not like we’re picking it up off the street, it belongs to a friend!”

“We have the money to buy our bed Samuel!”

Emily laughed at the bickering couple before turning to Nat. It had been a while since the two had caught up, both of their weeks taking over a majority of their time.

“So, tell me, how did things go with Steve the other night?”

“Oh my god, Emily—" Natasha looked at her, shaking her head in exasperation, “—It was amazing. He paid. He opened my doors for me. He genuinely listened to me and asked me actual questions. And get this, he’s an elementary school teacher. Which means he loves kids!”

Emily laughed, “Seriously? Already thinking about kids? The sex must have been fantastic.”

“Well…”

“You didn’t?!”

“No! It’s not like that. It’s—I really like him Em. We did kiss though. It was…promising.” Natasha leaned back in her chair, a small smile spread across her face as she thought about it. “But enough about me. How are things going with you and the boss?”

“We talkin’ about Mister Stick Up His Ass that’s taken over Dr. E’s office?” Sam interrupted, pausing his heated discussion with CeCe to finally figure out just who Dr. Barnes was.

“So, you’ve met?” asked Nat.

“Yea, the man looked like he wanted to push me out the window,” said Sam.

“He did not, stop exaggerating. He’s just punctual is all.” Emily had no idea why she was defending the man she was currently disgusted with. “Doc retired and now Dr. Barnes is his replacement and my advisor for the rest of the year.”

“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. The old man should have retired years ago. What is he now? 107?” Sam asked, grinning into his bottle of beer.

“And that, is why you don’t get the monthly newsletter Sammy,” said Emily, sticking her tongue out at him before changing the subject. “Say, we have been here for a while now, and I’ve yet to have anyone take my order—" she looked around dramatically, catching the eye of an older brunette woman, “—Would be nice to get some SERVICE!”

“Emily Lucille Colvert, if you keep yelling in my bar like that, I will fire you.” Maria, the manager of Goody’s sauntered over, wiping her hands on the black apron wrapped around her waist. Her short brown hair fell to her chin, ending in a slight curl that framed the strong line of her jaw. The lines and creases at the corners of her warm eyes revealed years of laughter, while the slight limp in her walk and hunch of her shoulders stood testament to years of hard work.

“You wouldn’t fire me Maria. I’m too valuable,” replied Emily, smiling cheekily.

Maria scoffed, rolling her eyes and placing a hand on her hip, “The minute I find a bartender as competent and that everyone likes as much as you, you’re out of here and that’s a promise.”

“Promise? I’ll hold you to that,” Emily said, watching as Maria began walking away and back towards the kitchen, “Hey! What about our pizza and drinks?” she called after the woman.

Maria stopped and turned at the kitchen door, hand placed against the wood, “I put your usual order in the moment I saw these hooligan friends of yours walk in. If you want a drink, you know where the bar is!” The second half was said over her shoulder as she pressed the swinging door open and disappeared.

“She’ll never fire me. I’ll be working here until I’m an old and decrepit woman,” Emily laughed, standing up and walking behind the bar, pouring herself a pint of Caribou Slobber.

“Don’t even,” said Nat. “You’re going to be working for some kind of environmental agency before you know it.”

“Speaking of jobs, Sammy, tell us all about this new job of yours that’s brought you back to the great state of Idaho,” said Emily, sitting back down just in time for their pizza to arrive. An extra-large meat lover’s special. Extra cheese. The group dug in, eating and drinking their fill as Sam told them all about the glamorous world of government work and public relations. It was nice, Emily thought, to catch up with Sam and CeCe. They seemed incredibly happy to be back in the area with a new house and new careers. They were talking about starting a family soon. Maybe getting a cat. Natasha seemed to be happy as well. She was obviously smitten with Steve. It seemed like, almost every opportunity she got, she brought up something he had said or did. It was cute in a sickeningly sweet way. Emily was happy for them, really, she was. However, the more they talked and gushed about how great their lives were going, the more Emily found herself dipping further into a hole. She’d give anything to have an ounce of what they had. Sure, she had a good life, but things were just so messy at the moment. With Dr. Barnes and Clint—

“Oh my god. Who the fuck does he think he is walking in here with her?” CeCe’s outburst caught Emily off guard, bringing her out of her thoughts to focus on the direction the woman was looking. There by the entrance were Clint and Sharon, accompanied by a few others from their lab. At first, Emily felt numb. Stunned. Unsure of what to do or say or think. Then, slowly a deep pit formed in the bottom of her stomach and she could feel the sting of threatening tears in the corners of her eyes. She swallowed thickly. Clint knew this was her place. He knew and yet here he was, not even three weeks after their breakup and he had brought her. Why?

“Em, we can totally leave if you want to,” said Nat, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Emily shrugged it off, standing abruptly and grabbing her coat off the back of the chair.

“No, no. You guys stay, finish the pizza and beer. Put it on my tab. Maria knows I’m good for it. I’m just gonna’ go home. I’m tired anyways.” Emily knew that the words were unconvincing, but it didn’t stop them from spilling past her lips and out to her friends.

“Do you want me to give you a ride home? It’s getting dark out,” Sam offered, arms braced against the chair, ready to stand at any moment.

Emily waved him off casually, “No, I’m fine. I’m like ten blocks away. Plus, I think I need to walk off all the pizza. You know, get some steps in so I don’t feel all the cheese and meat on my hips tomorrow.” She laughed, trying to sprinkle in some humor. Waving the group goodbye, she chanced a quick glance in Clint and Sharon’s direction as she fled towards the back exit. To her absolute horror, Clint’s eyes were trained directly on her, watching as she fled like a loser from the bar and away from him.

 Everything Marvel Taglist: 

@caffiend-queen

@hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

#love and academia #fanfic #fan fiction #bucky barnes #bucky x ofc #au #professor!bucky

[nellie-elizabeth]

Supernatural: Destiny's Child (15x13)

So, the news has dropped that this will be the last episode of Supernatural for a while, as they've had to halt production due to COVID-19. I know there are bigger, more important things to be upset about, but I'm definitely upset about this! I hope they are able to be back at work before too long, but of course first and foremost I hope everyone stays safe!

Cons:

Sam and Dean's detour into Hell was such a dead-end that it was almost comical. I kind of like the fact that trips into Hell have become the equivalent of a milk run for these boys, but at the same time, it felt like a needlessly complex way to get them out of the way so Cas could find out the real answer. Maybe I'm nitpicking? Maybe I just wish I could have seen Rowena? Totally possible.

Pros:

This was a great episode. I had so much fun with it, all the way through. First of all, Gen and Daneel being in the same episode together, as Ruby and Sister Jo, was the kind of hilarious fan-service-y thing that you just love to see. It doesn't matter for the bigger scope of the story that these two women are Jared and Jensen's wives in real life. But it's just so silly and funny! They had one scene together, and they totally milked it for all it was worth.

When I saw in the promos that a preppy version of Sam and Dean from an alternate reality were going to be visiting, I figured that would be the main subject of the episode. Turns out, not so much. They basically just serve as distractions, sitting around so that if Chuck checks in on them, he doesn't realize Sam and Dean aren't just hanging around the bunker. It's so hilarious to me that alternate versions of themselves are basically just a minor footnote in terms of the day Sam and Dean are having. Business as usual.

You can tell Jared and Jensen had so much fun playing these other versions of their characters. They hate beer, they have trust funds, their dad is a super nice guy who is totally still alive, they get paid to be hunters... it's so surreal to see this different version of them. Sam is snobby about his hair, Dean starts to get used to the taste of beer gradually. All of this was comedic gold, and the boys clearly had fun with it. My favorite little moments include Sam and Dean playing rock, paper, scissors while stuck in between dimensions, and Dean calling Sam "Samuel." So great!

Then there's Castiel's trip to the Empty. He sees the Empty, this time looking like Meg instead of like another version of himself. What a fun way to get yet another cameo of an old favorite! I love all the fan-service this season, unabashedly. We also see Ruby, who has been trapped in the Empty since her death. She gives Cas the location of the thing they need to help Jack get stronger, in exchange for a promise that Cas will try and help break her out.

We also get a mention of Cas' deal with the Empty, that he will have to go back there once he's truly happy. I was thrilled they brought this up again. It's not that I thought they'd forget it, exactly, but it's exciting to think that the payoff for that plot thread will indeed be happening before the finale! I'm so excited for Sam and Dean (especially Dean) to find out about it in some form or another.

Castiel pulls a real Winchester-ish move, going into the Empty by having Jack "almost" kill him, so he can step one foot into the afterlife and chat with Ruby. It's a stupid risk, and the Empty beats him up while he's in there. Sam and Dean come back to find Cas unconscious and Jack seemingly unconcerned, his still-soulless self very casual about the insane risk Cas has just taken. Of course my Destiel-goggles love seeing Dean scared for Cas' life, and Dean calling him an idiot once he gets back was also pretty great.

The Destiel content continues as they make their way to find the episode's McGuffin. They leave Sam to handle some hell hounds pounding at the door, while the two of them bicker about how to find what they're looking for. It's adorable, and I love Sam being like - "uh, guys? A little help here?" in the background. Poor thing can't catch a break with this old married couple.

Jack does indeed find the magic object, and he swallows it, per vague instructions. Billie was unclear on why Jack needed to find it, other than to say it would help to strengthen him "spiritually." Turns out, the answer to that is pretty straight-forward: Jack has his soul back.

I love the way this was handled. Jack without a soul reminds me somewhat of Sam without a soul, way back in season six. But Jack is a lot more concerned with how he should be feeling, how he remembers feeling. He knows it was wrong, what he did to Mary. But he has lost access to the extreme guilt and grief he should be feeling. As the episode ends, that guilt and grief is back in a big, big way. The way he apologized, and begged for forgiveness, really warmed my heart. It's such a difficult, heartbreaking situation for all involved, because Sam and Dean have already forgiven him. At least, on the surface. But Dean in particular can't just erase everything that's happened from his mind, and things have been different ever since Mary's death. Obviously. I can't wait to watch them untangle this!

I'll be sad without Supernatural to watch for the next few weeks, but I guess I was wrong about the last hiatus being the end of waiting for new episodes ever again! At least we're prolonging the moment when we have to say a final goodbye.

9/10

#review #supernatural #supernatural review #spn 15x13

[iwroteinapastlife]

AU

And without further ado, here is the final chapter of This Is It, my fic for @chlonathweek 2k19. Enjoy <3

***

Chloé watched as water washed over her feet, briefly clearing sand away from her white nail polish only to rush back out and sink her down to her ankles in mud. The ocean mist was cool and refreshing on her skin with the summer sun blazing overhead. It really had been far too long since she’d visited the coast.

She’d known she was going to visit it again this summer; she just hadn’t predicted the exact circumstances that would take her there. Before this, she had been entertaining thoughts of planning a trip to Spain to spend a week or two on the beaches there. She had been entertaining thoughts of bringing Nathaniel with her. Now, though, she was reconsidering that plan.

“So if there are entire cities of merfolk underwater,” she said as the water rushed over her feet once more, “and your family has to go back to the water all the time anyway,” she twisted to look at him over her shoulder, “why do you live on land at all?”

Nathaniel stood barefoot in the dry sand behind her, having just finished taking off his shoes (because he wore his Vans instead of sandals, like an idiot). His hair shined a brighter red than usual under light like this—closer to that ginger orange color than the darker tones he had under clouds. She might have been imagining it, but she was pretty sure a scattering of freckles was starting to pop up on the bridge of his nose. And his eyes—that deep teal that had reminded her of ocean waters long before she had even learned the truth—were bright and clear as they rose from his phone to meet her.

He smiled in that way that always preceded something snarky. “Have you ever tried to use a pencil and paper underwater?” She gave him a look. “I’m not kidding!” he laughed. “From drawing to writing to music, just about everyone in my family is an artist in some regard.” He looked down at his phone to keep typing as he continued. “There are underwater arts for sure, but why limit ourselves when we don’t have to?”

She supposed that made sense. Even before they started talking, Chloé had known by observation alone that Nathaniel couldn’t go anywhere without his sketch book. She had never seen him so distressed as those rare days when he forgot it at home—not even his stress over telling her the truth could compare. And everyone and their mother knew Nino always had a pair of headphones on him; she hadn’t even seen him without music. Their house was full of arts and crafts varying from pottery to papier mâché, there was always music of some sort playing from somewhere in the house, and Chloé couldn’t even picture Nathaniel’s mother without a pen tucked behind her ear; it seemed just as attached as her red hair.

“Do you have any family that don’t live on land?”

He shrugged, still typing. “Probably some distant family, but no one we keep in contact with.”

“Who are you texting?”

He looked up again and smiled upon seeing her confused expression. “Just Marinette.”

“Why?” Was it wrong of her to feel a slight pang of jealousy? Would the topic of Marinette ever stop being a sore spot for her?

Two more seconds to finish typing, then he closed his phone and tossed it off to the side with the rest of their stuff. “There’s a friend of hers that I want you to meet.”

“What? Why? Who is it?”

“Don’t worry about it.” She gave him another look. He just smiled in that way that was absolutely unfair. “You’ll see.”

“But—,”

“You’re welcome to keep watching,” he interrupted, voice muffled as he pulled his shirt over his head, “but I am going to fully undress.” He turned around and knelt down by his backpack, stuffing the shirt inside. Long strands of tangled red hair lay across his back that fell down by his face as he leaned forward, baring his shoulder.

Baring the flowers.

They were perfect, down to every little detail. The shape, the design, even the tiny little errors she had nitpicked long ago. All those years, she couldn’t understand how he could think she was his soulmate; not when her own tattoo was so clear. But looking at the flowers in that moment, she couldn’t conceive of anyone not reaching that conclusion.

It was so very specifically Marinette’s design on his shoulder.

“Chloé?”

She looked up again, realizing that while she had been scrutinizing the tattoo, he had stood up, half turned to her, and maybe even said something. Now with his hands paused at the button of his jeans, he was looking at her with that snarky smile again.

“This is your last chance if you want to turn around.”

“...Right,” she eventually said. Her feet still stuck in the mud, she simply faced forward so she was staring out at the horizon again. “Sorry.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” she lied.

“Let me rephrase.” His voice was getting closer. With a gentle hand on her back, he came around to her side to look at her face. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t meet his eyes, intent on watching a piece of seaweed float along the surface of the water out past the break. “Nothing. It’s stupid.”

“I don’t care.”

She rolled her head back with a pout. “No, Nathaniel, that’s where you’re supposed to say, ‘don’t be silly, Chloé, whatever’s bothering you can’t be stupid.’”

“I’m not going to lie to you.” She backhanded his stomach and he laughed, catching her hand to hold it in both of his. “Come on,” he said gently. He lifted her hand and she finally looked to watch as he pressed a soft kiss to her wrist—to her tattoo. There may be nothing technically different about it as compared to his lips anywhere else on her skin, but that specific kiss had her weak. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

She stared at him—stared at the tender, welcoming, reassuring way that he looked at her. That way that made her feel safe speaking her feelings for once in her life.

She sighed. “I don’t like that it’s Marinette’s design on your shoulder,” she finally admitted, her eyes focused on the tattoo she couldn’t see, but knew all too well would always be there on the other side of his back.

Seeing those flowers was seeing two whole years of watching her soulmate happy with someone else. Two long years of convincing herself to give up on ever being with her soulmate because she had managed to lose him before he was even hers. Two bleak years of knowing that she was one of those people who didn’t end up with their soulmate, and wondering if she would be lucky enough to ever find love with someone else. Two years, culminated in three pink flowers and a vine of twelve leaves etched into her soulmate’s skin.

Nathaniel moved to stand directly in front of her, warm palms cupping the sides of her face to make sure she looked at him as he spoke the words she may never stop needing to hear. “I’m your soulmate.”

She rolled her eyes as if hearing him say it didn’t mean everything to her. “I know; that’s why I said it was stupid.”

Even if it had only been a few months, he already apparently knew not to trust her nonchalance. His thumbs stroked gently across her cheeks. “I’m sorry it took me so long to figure that out.”

She leaned her cheek into the warmth of his hold. “I know.” Her hands came to settle on his hips and she leveled her gaze with his, meeting those genuine apologetic, remorseful eyes. “Promise you’ll spend the rest of your life making it up to me.”

A soft smile on soft lips. His fingers weaved up into her hair, thumbs settling on the edges of her jaw as he moved in. “I promise.”

By now she had lost count of how many times they had kissed. That didn’t mean that she was used to it. Nathaniel liked to cradle her head when he kissed her—whether that was her cheek nestled safely in the warmth of his palm or her head held with care in the strength of his fingers. He poured his everything into every kiss, always kissing her with the utmost passion and feeling and warmth. Like she was his whole world when they kissed; like nothing else existed but the two of them in those brief moments that their lips touch.

She was never kissed in such a way that she didn’t feel absolutely cherished with him. Secure.

“I’m yours, Chloé Bourgeois,” he whispered, putting the perfect words to a kiss like that. She wondered if she would ever get to a point where hearing him affirm that didn’t strike her to her core.

“You’re so overdramatic,” she whispered back. “Using my full name, kissing me like it’s the end of the world.”

Her eyes weren’t open, but she could hear the smile in his voice. “Maybe I’m still afraid it’ll be the last.”

“Keep doubting me like that and it will be.”

He chuckled and the sound was warmer than the sun above. “Or maybe I’m just still savoring the fact that a kiss can feel like that.”

“Whatever the reason,” she opened her eyes and found his right there waiting for her, “never stop.”

Would she ever get used to that bright, beautiful, beaming smile?

Another kiss—just one more slow, perfect, calming, centering, breathtaking, mind clearing, soul completing kiss. Nathaniel’s kiss.

As if to remind them where they were and why they were there, a particularly large wave washed up on shore, pushing water further up on her legs than before and no doubt soaking the cuffs of Nathaniel’s jeans. “Ready?” he asked.

She nodded, a nervous and excited flutter in her chest.

“Ready.”

#chlonathweek2k19 #chlonath #miraculous ladybug #soulmate au #soulmate tattoo #werecreatures au #supernatural creatures AU #this is it #angst

[lovetnaomi]

Secrets of the Dusk Chapter 8

Chapter 8

                 Even if this was only the beginning of the semester, after the semester she had so far Uraraka was sure that there wasn’t much that could surprise her. But this was something that caught her off guard. Her eyes slid down towards the unsteady knife in Tsuyu’s hand.

She was unsure. But she knew what it meant to her. Uraraka’s eyes slid towards Katsuki and Todoroki. The confusion in their eyes, but Katsuki moving his fingers in such a way they were cracking on their own as he was prepping to jump into the fight. It was possible that he considered losing the fight for his life the only lose that he would ever accept in his life again. Todoroki raised his hands, “We aren’t going to hurt you. We just came to take Uraraka home.”

               Tsuyu glanced towards them suspiciously. It wasn’t like her. It wasn’t like her to randomly pull a knife. Especially not on someone that she had seen before, and not on someone that had put her at ease previously or that her friend trusted. Uraraka glanced between the three of them. It was clear who she should be protecting, Todoroki and Katsuki weren’t pointing a knife towards Tsuyu, after all. But the chaos in her soul escalated her heartrate. Uraraka took a breath, Tsuyu wouldn’t have pulled a knife on them without a reason, and it was clear she was hesitant about it. Mostly her eyes were lingering on Katsuki. Someone in her mind that she knew was clearly dead.

               Embarrassment rushed to her, “I’ve been living with them for a little under two months now. They’re both safe I assure you.”

               Tsuyu lowered the knife, a complex feeling on her face. Todoroki ran a hand over the back of his neck, “I’m sorry if I did something to upset you. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

               “I need an explanation.”

               “I know. It’s not exactly that easy to explain.” Uraraka glanced towards Katsuki, sliding his hands into his pockets clearly attempting to not be paying attention but still annoyed.

               Tsuyu slid the knife into her pocket, her hands still shaking.

               “Come back with us, it’s not safe to walk home at this hour, especially alone. Not so close to my territory.”

               Tsuyu frowned, displeasure and embarrassment blending together on her face, “You’ve been taking care of Uraraka in a situation I didn’t know she was in and the first thing I did was point a knife at you two.” Tears watered to her eyes; frustration clearly prominent in the air.

               “Then don’t point knives at me!”  Katsuki snapped, rolling his eyes before turning to go down the sidewalk. Tsuyu glanced towards the street.

               “Katuski means don’t point knives at people who aren’t going to attack you.” Todoroki paused, “But there’s nothing wrong with defending yourself.”  He pushed his hands in his pockets, turning back to Katsuki.

               Tsuyu moved towards Uraraka glancing at the two walking ahead, “Are they arguing because of me?”

               Uraraka shook her head, “Katsuki’s just like that, he comes off as he’s yelling, but that’s just how he is.” She glanced towards Tsuyu, likely struggling to let go of the knife that was in her pocket. Probably feeling betrayed and hurt that she had kept such a secret from her. But how was she supposed to explain it?

               “You know…my family…they had mentioned this world before, but we never fully talked about it in detail…so I always brushed it off as a wives’ tale. But-“ Tsuyu’s eyes lingered on Katsuki, “How? Is it okay to ask…what is he?”

               Uraraka glanced towards Katsuki, kicking a can into the trash accompanied by loud shouts of people’s incapability to pick up their own trash, “Katsuki has never hurt me and I think I can promise that he’ll never harm you, but Katsuki’s a vampire. But he has special circumstances, hence why we’re walking so slow in comparison to how we usually go.”

               Tsuyu’s eyes went wide, but whatever thoughts she had considered remained quietly within her head, “Do you usually walk home on the night of the new moon instead?”

               Uraraka shrugged, “It might be a possibility. I don’t want Katsuki to feel responsible for me too. He only gets one night out a month.”

               “Hey! I may only have one night out a month, but what I choose to do with it is my choice!” Katsuki snapped, before turning back to the path ahead, the sidewalk beginning to disappear into the earth-crusted gravel.

               Tsuyu paused at the edge, “I should go back now.”

               Todoroki shook his head, “Although you likely can fight your way out you’re in my territory. A lot of dangerous creatures come in an attempt to challenge for my territory, I can’t guarantee they all have only above a human’s level of strength. I also have a few things I’d like to settle with you before you go home.”

               Tsuyu nodded, “I wouldn’t mind. Besides I’d like to get to know you two better if Uraraka decided it was okay to live with you.”

               They each nodded, continuing their trail towards Todoroki’s house. The crickets of the night chirped singing their merry tune, the quiet swish of the wind that one would only expect from a woodland based area instead of a city danced around their feet, playing with their hair. It was surreal and gentle. And Uraraka found herself craving that the world stayed like this, for just a little longer. That the world would let her savor each piece of the gentleness that it had to offer. The kind of gentleness that one wouldn’t realize they were missing until they finally paused.

               Tsuyu followed Todoroki into the cottage. Uraraka reached for the door, glancing back towards Katsuki who had his back to her, the cold wind wrestling in his hair and the faint scent of Fall beginning to set in. Uraraka pushed the door open, sliding a blanket off of the couch before reproaching Katsuki, throwing the blanket around his shoulders. He spun grabbing her wrist, “Who’s there?” He snapped, clearly relaxing when he realized who it was but the defensive and likely embarrassed tone in his voice remained, “Don’t sneak up on people like me.”

               “Like you?” She laughed, “The person that’s been taking care of Todoroki and I like a nitpicking nanny? I’m supposed to be afraid?”

               Katsuki’s eyes sparkled as he played with ideas in his head before turning away from her, sliding the blanket off of his shoulders, “Vampires don’t get cold. Here.” Uraraka took the blanket, folding It into her arms. Katsuki turned to her snatching the blanket out of her hands, and wrapping it around her shoulders, “Are you trying to catch pneumonia?” before he turned back looking towards the sky.

               Uraraka glanced towards Katsuki, wondering how their relationship would’ve turned out if they had met before he was a vampire, or if he had never become one. His personality was so strong and adamant she doubted that there would be much of a difference.  Her eyes traced towards where he was looking, attempting to hide his glance towards the sky, “Do you miss the light?”

               Katsuki snorted, “There’s nothing to miss.” Turning away he stuffed his hands into his pockets, trailing away. He glanced over his shoulder, “What are you doing? Let’s go,” before he began walking again. Away from the house, around the cottage and into a trail behind the woods.

               “Are you sure it’s okay for me to be out here?”

               “No one’s stupid enough to come out on the new moon.”

               “Why is that?”

               “I’m a vampire that drinks the blood of exclusively supernatural creatures.”

               Uraraka glanced towards him.

               “It’s similar to how humans are afraid of vampires because they never see them, they’re afraid of me because they know I’m not going to lose to them.” Katsuki moved forward, his next few words being spoken softly, “Not in front of you, at least.”

               Uraraka glanced towards him wondering if she was supposed to hear that. Katsuki was usually so adamant and loud with his personality, she had never seen him become shy with his words before. Her face buzzed, attempting to tell herself she was unsure what that meant. She followed him up the hill, sliding down in her wedges which were clearly not designed for such a terrain. Uraraka glanced up towards Katsuki reaching his hand out unexpectedly.

               “Hurry up already.” He grumbled as she let him bring her up.

               Uraraka felt her mouth drop.

               “I told you, I wasn’t missing anything.”

               She was standing on what could’ve been mistaken for a steep cliff, not quite a mountain, but not quite a hill anyone wanted to fall off of, in front of her laid a stretch of land encompassing a lake, fireflies radiated around it as the lake reflected each of them. Stars decorated the pond as it glowed blew, the colors echoing throughout the air. Uraraka could feel it in her veins, the entire place accumulated magic.  It was gorgeous. It drew her in, beckoning her. She had found home. She was home. She took a step forwards her foot slipping.

               “What are you doing?” Katsuki snapped his hand reaching for her, too late, she was already falling. And yet she felt safe. Katsuki’s arms wrapped around her, his hand placed on her head. It only took moments before the water hit them pulling them deeper. Uraraka took a breath, water pushing in instead of air when they finally resurfaced coughing it up. The air burned returning to her throat.

               “What were you doing?” He snapped as she glanced towards him.

               “I don’t know. I just. I just thought I was home and I took one step.”

               Katsuki glared towards the edge of the embankment, likely trying to decide how hard it would be for the two of them to get back up to where they were. There weren’t any clear routes to return to where they were standing. It wasn’t ideal to have fallen into what was basically an outdoor cave filled with water.  “Tsk. That bracelet is supposed to protect you from any supernatural element that means you harm. Todoroki should just throw it back.”

               “What if whatever element pulled me down here didn’t mean any harm? I felt like I was home. I felt safe.” And right then she meant it. She was sure there was nowhere safer right then that she could be than with Katsuki’s arms wrapped around her hips.

Katsuki let out a rough sound of annoyance, “Whatever it was I don’t trust it. Don’t fall for such a simple lure.”

Uraraka felt her hands move over the muscles on his arms, trying to push down the thought about how since she had gotten there, she had secretly been dying to touch his muscles. Katsuki’s personality was easily misunderstood, it wouldn’t be surprising if the one that had attacked Katsuki was out of spite via a misunderstanding. “Did you know the person that made you a vampire?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, “Of course not. There’s no way anyone I already knew would’ve been able to take me down. Not even at that point of my human existence.”

“Did you want to go back to being human?”

Red flashed in his eyes as they swerved towards her before immediately swerving away. It likely wasn’t an uncommon question, but most likely had to keep it to themselves. Katsuki glanced towards the sky and for a moment Uraraka was sure that it would remain unanswered. “Who wouldn’t? Spending every single day trapped in that house isn’t ideal. I get by, but when the decision to leave gets taken from you? Anyone would’ve wanted to be free of it.”  

Uraraka glanced towards the water, struggling to reflect the both of them. Katsuki could’ve easily been out looking for the person who killed him-the one who turned him into a vampire, one that was trapped without even the faintest reflection of the moon for comfort-the person who had all the answers. She took a breath, her hands tightening around his shirt, “I’ll find them. I’ll find who did this to you.”

Katsuki scoffed, “Then what? Offer to be their dinner?”

Uraraka splashed the water in his face, Katsuki’s hand slipping as he pushed himself back wiping the water away from his face, a devious smile on his face, “I’m not going to let them get that chance.” He laughed, sending water flying back towards her, “Let’s see how well you swim.” Katsuki growled his voice attempting to come off as dangerous but struggling to hide the mischief in his voice as he reached for her. Uraraka pushed herself back pushing more water onto Katsuki, Uraraka blinked and he was gone. “Where’d you go-“ A hand latched around her ankle as he pulled her down. Uraraka laughed, finding herself dragged down into the lake. Uraraka took a breath letting him drag her down. She would take him by surprise, but she didn’t have any intention of losing.

Uraraka opened her eyes planning to get him back, instead in front of her was a creature steadily blinking at her as in an attempt to examine her. It wasn’t a kind of creature that she had seen before. It almost appeared to be a man, but with the body of an octopus. She attempted to push back, another tentacle wrapping around her as though it were a child struggling to hold onto a pretty rock that it was still examining, “Let go!”  She breathed watching the last bits of her air take physical form and rise to the surface where Katsuki’s shadow was steadily looking for her, clearly startled by the fact that she had disappeared and not come up from the lake yet, likely shouting things by now about how not funny this situation was. Uraraka tapped on the creature’s shoulder only for another tentacle to push her arm back. She glared at it, great, it thought it was okay to touch her but her touching it wasn’t okay. She glanced towards the surface, steadying her thoughts. She could do this. Katsuki wasn’t going to be able to get close to her any time soon. If she could just reach the halter hidden underneath her shorts. Her hand circled behind herself, beginning to struggle to remove the knife. The water beginning to run down her throat, it wouldn’t take much longer for her to blackout if she couldn’t make it to the surface soon. Especially with the creatures attempts to constrict her. It had the body of an octopus and a human likely it was carnivorous. It was likely more than excited to find a meal that would crave its hunger in such a place. Her throat burned, begging her to take a breath. The knife finally slid between her fingers. She didn’t have time to hope that she had enough strength to free herself. She just needed to do it. Her hand tightened on the knife taking the hardest swing she could imagine while underwater. The creature squealed, its tentacles unwrapping just enough that she could free herself. The world spun around her. She needed air. Now. Uraraka kicked her feet as fast as she physically can, surfacing.

“Uraraka, dammit!”

The air burned to rush down to her throat, “Her-“ the tentacle wrapped around her ankle dragging her down once again, the water rushed through her throat. She turned the monster wiping the knife out of her hand, fury burned in its eyes. Likely not used to their prey fighting back.  “I’m not your dinner!” She swung, the water managing to stop her massively as the creature threw her. Uraraka felt herself surface, before crashing down into the water again. “Up, where was up? Come on. Think.” Humans float. She didn’t have time, but she needed to stop struggling it would save her life. Her body flipped over pushing her back towards the surface. Uraraka pushed her way to the surface, watching the creature circle her. It wasn’t angry. It was playing with her. She was the prey, and this was a game.

“What are you doing over there?” Katsuki snapped beginning to move towards her.  

“No! Stay back!” She shouted, her hand wrapping around the other as she flinched glancing down at it. The creature had cut her hand with her knife. It wasn’t a pretty sight and would likely need several stitches to be taken care of. Uraraka blinked, it was too late, he was already next to her.

“What happened?” He snapped, following her gaze towards the creature circling her.  His eyes slowly moving back towards her, shifting down to her hands. Katsuki swallowed, anger likely bellowing in his chest in an attempt to overpower any other emotion. “I’m going to kill it.” An afterglow echoed throughout the surface before he was gone.

“Katsuki, wait!” She shouted, but it was too late, he was gone. The supernatural speed of his species likely being a bad trait bestowed onto someone who was likely already hot-headed before transitioning.  

She glanced down, beginning to attempt to stop the bleeding through wrapping her clothes around her hand, Katsuki clearly fighting with the creature below them. “Katsuki! Katsuki get back up here!” Uraraka shouted as the lake around them began freezing over quickly unraveling towards them. Uraraka took a breath, pushing herself down under the water, grabbing Katsuki by the arm. He glared at her, startled and likely thinking that something else was trying to attack them from behind. She pulled, pulling them back to the surface.

“What was that for? I was winning!” He snapped his fangs clearly protruding from his mouth.

“I was saving your life; the lake is freezing over!” She replied glancing up towards Todoroki offering her a hand.

“I’m going back down there to fight it! How dare it-“

“Katsuki.”

“I don’t need you to rescue me!” Katsuki snapped, glaring towards Todoroki over his shoulder.

Todoroki shook his head as Uraraka grabbed his hand, thanking him before testing the ice they were standing on. “Did you-“

The creature spun rising to the surface, water rushing off of it the way a creature from a sailing-horror movie would present itself, chin thrown high into the air, and a sense of uncontended authority flowing off of it, “Who dares touch my prey?” It boomed, its eyes locking towards Todoroki’s hand still wrapped around her own, “Just a pathetic mutt?”

“Get over here so I can kick your ass!” Katsuki snapped, his hands splashing against the water.

Todoroki glanced towards her, his eyes sliding down towards her hand flipping it over, “Did he do this?”

She shook her head, “My hand slipped on the knife.”

“So, he did.”

“I-“

“You wouldn’t have pulled that knife if you didn’t feel like you were in danger.”

The creature’s tentacles swung through the air with the ferocity of an angered cat’s tail. A soft scoff coming from them, “You do understand that prey is mine, correct?”

Todoroki instinctively pulled her closer, a soft growl to Katsuki, “Get out of the water.”

Katsuki glared towards him one foot already on the ice, “Don’t tell me what to do!” He snapped.

Todoroki’s eyes shifted to the creature, “You clearly don’t understand who you’re talking to. And by common knowledge, this is all my territory and these two are my closest assets. Are you telling me that you’ve openly admitted to attacking these two?”

The creature scoffed, “And what are you going to do? Call those fake supernatural government of this area?”

Todoroki’s grip tightened, clearly thinking about turning her away from what was about to happen as his arm pulled her closer, his muscle-flexing as he resisted the urge to pull her into his shoulder so she wouldn’t see what was coming next another hand beginning to raise, “I am the government in this area.”

Flames lit the sky echoing towards the creature as it let out a loud screeching before returning to its lake.

“Remember who this next time you decide to put your hands on either one of them. You will never get off easy again after that,” Todoroki’s eyes narrowed, “Do you understand?” He hissed.

The creature pushed itself underneath the lake without another word.

Todoroki sighed walking them back up to the top of the cliff where Tsuyu was waiting.

“What was that?”

“There are a lot of things in this world that many don’t know. But whatever it is, it needs to know who’s the ruler of this territory.” Todoroki shook his head, glancing down towards Uraraka attempting to hide her hand. “Katsuki go get dinner.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Katsuki snapped, already halfway down the other side of the cliff.

Todoroki turned back towards her, holding out his hand for her own, “Let me see.”

“It’s fine. I just dropped my knife.”

“When was the last time you washed it?”

“It was brand new.”

“We’ll disinfect it when we get back then.” He stated, before standing again and beginning to walk back towards the house.

Tsuyu wrapped her jacket around Uraraka’s shoulders, “It’s been a long night hasn’t it?”

Uraraka nodded, pulling the jacket closer, “It wasn’t bad though.” She found herself attempting to hide a soft smile. Not ready to admit it, but fighting back? Feeling like at moments that she was actually winning as the adrenaline pulsed through her? She felt so alive. There was a part of her that she knew wouldn’t be responded to well if she admitted it aloud. But her body was begging her to do it again. Todoroki opened the door leading her to the kitchen after giving Tsuyu rough instructions on how to get to Uraraka’s room to grab a change of clothes.

Todoroki drew a chair beckoning her to sit as he pulled out a first aid kit. He took her hand gently wrapping around it before beginning to blot the spot and disinfecting it.

A smile escaped her, “And here I thought Katsuki said that you were bad at life skills.”

Todoroki glanced towards the first aid kit a hazed overlook in his eyes, “I used to watch my older siblings patch each other up after a rough day in the house.” Todoroki paused, his hand resting on the box, “I’m not very good at doing it for other people though. Only myself.” He moved to pull out the wrapping gingerly wrapping it around her hand, carefully beginning to tighten it.

“You’re not going to hurt me. I don’t think the wrapping will even stay on like that.” Uraraka laughed as he shook his head slowly beginning to add more pressure. As though he were unsure how much pressure to make sure he wouldn’t hurt her. It was barely visible, but his hands shook, as though the smallest touch would shatter the porcelain she was made of. Uraraka brought her other hand to his face, “Don’t be afraid of me. I’m not afraid of you. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Todoroki’s mouth twitched, barely a moment away from dropping open as the clouds in his eyes shifted to the sparkle of a thousand stars, his hand wrapping around her. Uraraka bit her lip attempting not to flinch after she had just told him that he wouldn’t hurt her. He glanced down redlining his face, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Other people’s hands don’t typically stay intact near me.”

Uraraka let a small laugh out, it had been a rough start, but this was where she wanted to be. There was something that just felt so safe and familiar about the house. Like she had been drawn there, the house telling her that it was exactly what she needed. Todoroki near her, Katsuki back and leaning on the doorway facing away from them grumbling, and Tsuyu running into the room. This was exactly what she had needed. To be surrounded by the ones she absolutely adored. It was going to be a great semester.

#bnha #fanfiction #supernatural #todokachako #todoroki x uraraka #urakara x katsuki #college #au

[freddie-roger-brian-john]

The fat bottomed girl (Gwilym!Brian x reader)

Request - Hi there! I don’t know if you’re taking requests right or not, but if you are: I would love to read something about the night or girlfriend Brian wrote Fat Bottom Girls about.

A/N - thanks for sending a request in!

Warnings - mention of weight, swearing, Brian being cute as fuck.

Word count - 1756

——————

"Y/N?" Brian asked, sticking his head around the door of the bathroom. "You almost ready?" You nodded at him, quickly hiding the newspaper article you had been distracted by.

"Yeah, I'll be down in a minute," you told him, turning around so that he wouldn't be able to see the tears in your eyes. He gave you a quick smile before closing the bathroom door and letting you finish getting ready in peace. In truth, you had been ready for at least eight minutes. You would've left the bathroom and went down to breakfast with Brian at your side had it not been for the article in front of you. You pulled it from it's hiding space and read it once more.

BACHELOR BRIAN MAY FINALLY TAKEN?

Rejoice! Apparently it’s not just pretty, petite girls who get famous lovers! Lead Guitarist of Queen, Brian May, was spotted entering and leaving his hotel room with a mystery woman at his side. Many are already speculating who this fat bottomed girl is and what kind of relationship they share. Is she just a friend like May has claimed? Or is there something more serious going on? (See more on page 14)

That phrase, that nickname, kept popping into your mind. "Fat bottomed girl." You glanced at yourself in the big bathroom mirror. Sure, during your teenage years you had been a little insecure about your weight but that's just what teenage girls were like. You were an adult now, this sort of stuff wasn't supposed to matter anymore. So then, you wondered, why was that nickname bothering you so much?

This was precisely the reason that Brian had suggested keeping your relationship a secret. You both knew that the second the two of you went public, you would be judged by the media. You could've been the most beautiful, most kind, most intelligent woman in the world but the press would've found something to nitpick regardless.

You shook your head. This was silly. You knew you shouldn't be crying over a stupid story in an equally stupid newspaper. You gave yourself a moment a calm down, wiped your eyes, and took a deep breath before leaving the bathroom.

You made your way out of your hotel room and soon enough, you found the boys, Veronica, Dominique, and Mary sitting around a large table, food on their plates.

Roger was in the middle of telling a very animated story, his hands waving all about the place as he spoke, as you sat down next to Brian. He must've been able to tell something was wrong because as soon as he saw you he quietly asked if you were alright. You just nodded and tried to listen to Roger's story.

Throughout the whole breakfast, you could feel Brian's eyes studying you. He knew something was wrong but he also knew you didn't want to talk about it so he didn't press you for answers. Instead, he sat there, concerned about the tell tale signs of sorrow that you were desperately trying to hide.

You tried to get that nickname out of your mind. Today was meant to be a fun day and you weren't going to let a stupid newspaper article ruin that. Today was the last day of your three day holiday. It was also the last day that the boys had before they had to back to the studio to record their newest album so they were all set on making the most of it.

The eight of you had decided to go up north for your holiday and so, you all spent your last day in Edinburgh by going around all of the tourist spots - like the castle - before spending your evening in small pub.

You and Brian returned to your hotel room at about one in the morning. You had barely touched the mattress when you fell asleep, completely exhausted by the busy day. Brian made sure to pull the duvet over you before he went to the bathroom to have a quick shower.

However, as he closed the bathroom door, he spotted something sitting on the counter by the sink. It was the newspaper article you had read that morning. He picked it up, intrigued by seeing his own name.

His eyes lingered on the nickname they had given you and everything seemed to click in his mind. He knew that this had to be what you had been upset about.

He left the bathroom, completely forgetting about his shower, and looked over at you. Yes, your snores were loud and yes, your hair was an absolute state, but he couldn't have cared less. In that moment, as your presence alone calmed the anger that the newspaper had planted in him, he knew that he loved you.

And he sure as hell wasn't going to let a nickname get you down.

He picked up his guitar, which he always kept by the bed (even if he was staying in a hotel room), and he strummed a chord quietly to see if it would wake you up.

Thankfully, you had drunk a little too much at the pub and was out for the count.

Brian stayed up all night. By the time the sun was beginning to rise, lyrics were floating around his head and he swore he could hear his chord progression without even playing it. As you stirred, early morning deciding to wake you up, Brian quickly sat down his guitar, hid the paper that he had written lyrics onto, and climbed into bed. When you tiredly turned around to look at your boyfriend, he pretended to be asleep (which was difficult for him without actually falling asleep).

"Bri?" You whispered, your throat filled with early mornings and sleep. You glanced at the clock on the wall. "Bri? We've got to be out of here in an hour."

He pretended to wake up, thankful that you were too sleepy notice his terrible acting. His eyes opened and he quickly pressed a kiss to your lips. You smiled.

"What was that for?" You asked him.

"For being perfect," he told you. "For having the kindest heart, the prettiest face-" he wrapped his arms around you, his hands resting dangerously low on your back "- the best body."

You raised an eyebrow but were glad for the unprovoked compliments.

"Well then, I think I owe you a kiss as well," you said before doing just that, "for having the brightest mind-" kiss "-the best hair-" kiss "-and the biggest-"

"Brian! Y/N!" Came the voice of Roger Taylor as he burst into your hotel room.

"What?" You demanded, annoyed that Roger had ruined your moment. He seemed to realise he had walked in on something intimate because he was trying not to smile.

"Uh, Deaks just wanted me to make sure everyone was up," he said. "He's paranoid about us missing our flight back to London." You rolled your eyes, promptly told him to get out, and turned back to Brian.

"He's right," you said, "we should get up." He nodded somewhat regrettably.

"Suppose."

—————— Two days later

You arrived at the recording studio at about six on Tuesday. Brian had invited you round, he said he had something he wanted to show you. You couldn’t help but be excited, the last time he did something like this, he had asked you to move in with him.

“Hey, Y/N,” said John as he spotted you standing in the doorway, “Brian’s just through there.” He pointed towards a door at the other side of the room.

“Thanks, John,” you told as you crossed the room to find your boyfriend. Poking your head around the door, you spotted him sitting hunched over. “Brian?” He looked over his shoulder, spotted you, and his face lit up like a child’s at Christmas.

“Y/N,” He said, standing up to give you a quick kiss. When he pulled back and you saw his face close to your own, you noticed how tired he looked. He was pale with purple bags under his eyes, and his stubble (which he usually shaved every morning) was longer than you had seen in a long time.

“Jesus, Brian, when was the last time you slept?” You asked him, to which he only smiled.

“I’ve been busy,” he explained. “We just finished recording one of the new songs. I’ve been writing and recording it for pretty much the last three days.”

“Is that what you wanted to show me?” You asked. He nodded and turned to play you the song. He pressed play and the singing began.

Are you gonna take me home tonight?

Your face lit up upon hearing the opening line. The lack of music and the strong harmonies made you smile. You could pick out all their voices and they never failed to amaze you.

Ah, down beside that red firelight?

Are you gonna let it all hang out?

Fat bottomed girls, you make the rocking world go round!

The smile on your face faltered and Brian became suddenly very worried that the song had only upset you more. As the instruments, most notably his guitar, started to play, he was beginning to regret all the hard work he had put into the song. He looked down at his feet and began to apologise.

“Y/N, if you don’t like it-”

But he didn’t get to finish his apology. He had almost knocked him off his chair as you hugged him as tightly as you could. “I love it,” you said into his shoulder. So overcome with relief, he relaxed and melted into the hug. “I’m guessing you saw the article?”

“Yeah,” he said, “But you know that everyone who writes for that paper is a wanker, right? Just last week they were calling Freddie all sorts of names.” He pulled back from you as the chorus began to play again. “You know you’re better than them, right? You’re better than any shitty nickname they can come up with.”

He kissed you right as Freddie’s voice sang the nickname again. When you had first read it and you had cried in the bathroom, you had been so embarrassed by it but now, as you sat there with your lips on Brian’s and his hand on your face, you were strangely proud of it.

You were a fat bottomed girl and there was no way in hell you were going to make a stupid newspaper make you feel bad about it for one second.

#bohemian rhapsody #borhap #queen #brian may #gwilym lee #fanfic #roger taylor #ben hardy #one shot #imagine #red writes #this is messy af

[jay345sal28]

Strange Magic Secret Valentine

For @dainesanddaffodils

Prompt: Anti- Valentine’s Day (Modern AU)

Warnings: Some swearing by Marianne and Bog

Note: Happy Valentine's Day! I wrote a human au anti Valentine's day fic with Marianne and Bog being the salty anti-lofe people we all know and love. I hope I got them in character. It's been a while since I've written in this fandom. 😁. Anyway I hope you enjoy! ♥

Ps. :I posted this on my phone so sorry if it looks weird

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

“Come on, Marianne! You can’t spend Valentine’s day watching a horror movie!”

Marianne scowled as she watched Dawn roll her eyes in disgust.

“What? You know I don’t like Valentine’s Day!” Marianne made sure to avoid looking at her night table, the photo of her and Roland ripped into shreds months ago.

“Besides everyone else will be watching a romantic chic flick today! It’s the perfect time to go watch a horror movie!”

She smirked as she saw her sister give up, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

“Ugh, you have no sense of romance! If you need me, I’m going to be getting ready for my hot date tonight.”

“Say hi to sunny for me!” She teased, watching as Dawn blushed and stormed out the room in a huff.

The minute the door closed behind her sister, Marianne dropped her smirk and flopped back onto her bed. Staring at the ceiling, she couldn’t help but remember last year’s Valentine’s Day. She had been so excited, preparing for her date with Roland in one of the most expensive restaurants in town. Marianne had spent weeks trying to find the perfect dress, finally deciding on a cute white sundress with purple-tinged hems. She had even gotten Dawn to help her with her hair and makeup, determined to show Roland how sexy and elegant she could be.

‘I was such a little fool.’ Marianne couldn’t help but think, remembering how she had gotten to the restaurant way too early, wanting to make sure Roland wouldn’t be stuck waiting for her by mistake. Just as she had been walking towards the entrance, her attention had been caught by a flash of blonde hair speeding by on a motorcycle.

Biting her lip at the pain the memory still caused her, Marianne buried her face into her pillows.

She had just begun to call out to him as Roland parked his motorcycle when a cute looking girl had run up and thrown her arms around his waist. Her heart had shattered into pieces when she saw him pull that girl close and start to make out with her. He had never kissed Marianne with that kind of passion; instead, offering her chaste pecks and soft caresses. He had always said he didn’t want to push for more than she was ready to give.

‘What a fucking liar. All that time saying he was respecting my decisions when really he had been cheating on me on the side.’

Marianne remembered running away, chocking on her sobs as her heart tried to make sense of what had just happened. She had turned off her phone and wandered the town for hours, not replying to any of Rolands, her sister’s or even her dad’s phone calls. It had been nearly midnight when she had gotten back home, completely drained and not saying a single word to her family’s frantic questions.

‘I should have punched the bastard out that day. I should have made a big scene and have everyone know what a fucking two-timing scumbag he really is.’

Growling into her bed, Marianne pulled herself together and marched her way to her closet. If she was gonna survive this wretched day, then she would have to go out in style.

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

Reaching the theatre, Marianne couldn’t help but smirk as she saw some of the couples nearby give her a startled look. Wearing her favourite combat boots, her comfiest ripped jeans with a studded belt, a skull shirt with her fingerless gloves and her leather jacket, Marianne knew she looked intimidating. Pulling off her sunglasses, Marianne gave a little sneer at the flirty look one of the nearby guys had thrown at her.

‘That asshole is with his girlfriend too! Ugh, men are faithless pigs.’

Making her way to the ticket booth, Marianne leaned heavily on the counter as she asked for a ticket for the new horror movie “The Cabin in the Woods”.

“Hey princess! Didn’t yer mom ever teach ye not to cut in line?”

Gnashing her teeth at the remark, Marianne turned to look at the idiot who clearly didn’t realize she had been there first.

Electric blue eyes glared at her from a tall, gangly looking man. He had a five-o’clock shadow with gelled back hair that spiked at the end.

‘His hair looks like freaking pinecone!’ She mused, before noticing that he was wearing leather pants that looked like they had been painted on him and wearing a muscle shirt that showed off his tattooed shoulders.

“What did you call me?”

His lips curled into a snarl, making his long face look intimidating and revealing slightly pointy teeth,

‘What a weirdo, did he actually file his teeth to be pointy?’

“Ye heard me ya line-cutting wench, some of us have actually been waiting a while to get a ticket, so if ye don’t mind why don’t you head to the back of the line like a decent person!”

Barring her teeth in anger, she snatched the ticket from the attendant. Throwing the correct amount onto the counter, she growled at the asshole who was determined to make this miserable day worse for her.

“No. No one was in a line before I got to the booth, therefore, I didn’t cut anyone since there was no fucking line, to begin with. So fuck off you lanky twig.”

Giving him the finger, she stomped her way to room five, muttering under her breath about self-entitled assholes who seemed to exist solely to test her patience.

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

Picking a spot in the back row, Marianne relaxed as she realized she was the only person in the room.

‘Thank God! No stupid lovey-dovey couples or annoying lanky men with too wide shoulders and fucking sinful legs to distract her from her movie.’

Making herself comfortable in her chair, Marianne smiled as the lights dimmed and the movie started.

It was not even thirty minutes into the movie when the sound of a rough laugh broke Marianne’s concentration. Searching for where the noise had come from, she quickly realized there was another person in the theatre with her. Peering down into the front row, she noticed that it was that lanky asshole from earlier, chuckling at the expressions of the stoner character, as he became more puzzled at his friend’s weird behaviour.

Annoyed at having to share the theatre with him, Marianne took a deep breath before trying to refocus on the movie. Munching on some popcorn to get back into the mood, her attention was broken once more at the sound of another loud laugh from the front row.

“Hey, pinecone! Do you mind keeping it down? I would like to enjoy the movie without having to hear your loud as fuck laughter, thank you very much!”

Glaring as he turned around to look at her, Marianne was struck by how blue his eyes were.

‘They practically glow in the dark! What is this guy, part cat?’

“Well, if it isn’t the rude princess. Tell me are ye always so pleasant to watch movies with or am Ah just lucky?”

Hissing lowly at his stupid remarks, Marianne felt her temper flare as he continued to taunt her.

“Shouldn’t ye be snuggling with yer boyfriend and watching some sappy, rubbish, romantic movie? Or are ye too much of a princess to share a movie with another person?”

Stomping her way closer to his row, she threw some of her popcorn at his head as she snarled back at him.

“What about you? Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend and cheating on her with some bit on the side instead of trying to ruin my movie night!”

“Cheating?! Listen up ye wench, Ah don’t cheat on mae lovers! And even if Ah did, who the fuck are ye to judge me on what Ah do? Ah bet yer the kind of princess that strings men along till they run out of money to give ye gifts or ye find someone better!”

Feeling completely insulted, Marianne forced herself to stand firm as he made his way closer to her. Not willing to show how much his glower unnerved her.

“As if I would ever do anything like that! Men are nothing but two-timing pigs, who only think of sex and their own gratification! I don’t need toxic shit like that in my life!”

Marianne jutted out her jaw as she looked him square in the eyes. For a moment she thought he had looked hurt at her words before he threw his own popcorn at her head.

“There ye go again, running yer mouth, like some kind of tough girl. Acting like women are all pure and innocent in relationships. Well, Ah’ll have ye know that women are nothing but a pain. Complaining and nitpicking over every little thing, changing ye till yer someone completely different cause they can’t handle ye as ye are.”

Closing her eyes, Marianne remembered all the times Roland had implied she should wear dresses more instead of jeans, that she looked better with some makeup on and that she should really comb her hair when they go out. Every time she had tried to explain that she was more comfortable with those things he would twist her words around till she had felt ashamed of not being more like the girl he wanted.

‘Don’t you want to show the world how pretty you can be Marianne?’

‘I just want to brag about my beautiful baby doll to my friends!’

‘Why can’t you dress like the rich little lady you are? No need to dress down for the common folk love. You’re above all that.’

“Ugh! Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP! You're wrong! It’s men who want to change you! Mocking and persuading you to dress like their ideal girlfriend and then breaking your heart by having other girls on the side!”

Feeling herself start to spiral into a panic, Marianne tried to control her heavy breathing and focus on the asshole in front of her.

“Well, how would ye know anything about that?! Ye probably have ne’er even had any boyfriends before!”

Forgetting completely about the movie, Marianne snapped at his words.

“YES I HAVE! YOU WANT TO KNOW HOW I KNOW ALL THIS, YOU STUPID PINECONE?!”

Pushing herself into his face, she started jabbing his chest in anger.

BECAUSE MY BOYFRIEND CHEATED ON ME AFTER GUILT TRIPPING ME FOR A YEAR ON WHAT I WAS WEARING, WHAT I WAS EATING AND EVERYTHING ELSE HE COULD THINK OF, TO MAKE ME INTO HIS PERFECT, LITTLE, IDIOTIC, TROPHY!”

Throwing her hands against his chest, Marianne tried to push the lanky asshole away from her. He caught her hands with his rough ones, as he backed away from her and gave her a regretful face.

“Hey, you two! What’s with all the yelling? Do you have any idea how many complaints we’ve gotten in the last few minutes cause of the noise coming from here?!”

Marianne turned to look at the annoyed manager of the theatre glowering at her and the pinecone from the door.

“If you’re going to make such a ruckus then GET OUT!”

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

Staring at the slammed doors of the theatre, Marianne sighed in annoyance of her plans being spoiled.

‘Great. I guess I should just go home and pray Dawn doesn’t find out I got kicked out cause I was being too loud with some guy.’

As she turned to make her way down the road, Marianne heard the pinecone haired guy call out to her.

“Hey, tough girl…”

Turning to look over her shoulder, Marianne gave him her best ‘absoluetly done with this world’ face.

“What?”

“Sorry...fer, ye know, saying shit about stuff Ah didn’t know about.”

Staring into his embarrassed looking eyes, Marianne felt herself softened a little when she realized he was being serious and not mocking her.

“...It’s okay. I shouldn’t have projected my problems with my ex on you. It’s not like you cheated on me and broke my heart.”

She had blown up spectacularly on him, guess she had been suppressing a lot of deep-seated issues with her break up with the blonde-ass of the year.

“...Fer what it’s worth, Ah think he’s a downright fool to have tried to change ye.”

Peeking at him again over her shoulder, Marianne was startled to see him looking away with a blush covering his face.

“...I thought you hated my guts.”

“Nah, Yer a pretty fiesty, tough lassie...And Ah was being a wee bit too loud in the theatre. Ah didn’t mean to unload mae issues on ye like that.”

Curious at what his story was, Marianne slowly made her way closer to him. She made sure she was at least arm's length away before getting the courage to ask him a question.

“Can I ask...what happened to you? With your ex?”

Watching him rub his neck awkwardly, Marianne noticed he actually looked attractive from this angle.

“Ah used to date the prettiest girl in mae hometown. Ah was so surprised she had picked me to be her boyfriend that Ah did everything possible to make her happy.”

Nodding slowly, Marianne started to get a good idea at how this story was going to end.

“She had pretty high standards when we went out together. She insisted Ah wear clothes that made me look more acceptable for the places we would go to. One day, Ah looked into the mirror and realized that in trying to please her, Ah I had become someone Ah didn’t like.”

Marianne could relate to that. Roland had slowly twisted her up inside till she was wearing dresses all the time and getting her hair and makeup styled the way he liked it.

“Ah went to go talk to her about all this, when Ah overheard her talking with one of her friends. She was laughing as she told her that Ah wasn’t her real boyfriend since she would never date someone as ugly as me. Ah was just a pet project she wanted to play with till she got bored.”

Seeing his eyes go heartbreakingly sad, Marianne felt herself hold her breath as his face softened into something more vulnerable.

“Ye see... Ah’m too ugly to have a real girlfriend.”

Feeling upset on his behalf, Marianne drew closer and slowly reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder.

“But you’re not ugly.In fact, I’d say you’re pretty distinguished looking.”

Seeing his eyes grow warm at her words, Marianne felt a traitorous blush slowly make her way up her neck and across her cheeks. Coughing loudly in embarrassment, she spotted a decent cafe nearby.

“Hey, you want to go get some coffee? My treat.”

He smiled softly at her words, before walking beside her to the cafe.

“Sure. Ah could go for some decent coffee.”

Feeling slightly awkward as she realized she didn’t know his name, she looked away as she thrust her hand towards him.

“So...my name’s Marianne. Marianne Fae.” Peeking at him from under her bangs, she felt her heart skip a beat at the fond look on his face. His hands were warm and rough as he shook her hand once before giving a light peck on the back of her hand.

“Mae name is Bog. Bog King. Nice to meet ye, Marianne.”

“Likewise.”

As they made their way into the cafe, Marianne couldn’t help but think that maybe this year's Valentine’s Day wouldn’t end in a disaster after all.

#text #my stuff #mine #my writing #strange magic #butterfly bog #bog king #marianne #bog and marianne #dawn #sunny #potionless #human au #happy valentine's day #drabbles #one-shot #sorry i posted this on my phone #month of lofe

[kyvir]

27: "I wish I'd never met you." BoruSara pweaseeeeeeeeeeee

Thanks for the request Anon! -KanaTyy

Annoying

Today wasn’t the best day. As chief of police, Sarada was a busy woman. She worked hard, was dedicated and loved her work. But it wasn’t always easy. Just the day before right in their hometown, a mass murder had occurred. Everyone was frantic. There was so much to be done, so many people hurting from the loss of their loved ones. So many survivors fighting for their lives. Sarada wanted to be even more involved than she was needed to be, so she’d stayed working throughout the night and up until now.

It was noon, she’d stopped by her favorite coffee shop for a snack and a coffee before heading home for a little rest. She was going to take her time, her favorite table was open but when she walked to it and saw an article laying there, her eyes narrowed. She snatched it up to take a good look, staring at herself in disbelief. It was a picture of her in uniform, from her press conference just the day before. That wasn’t what got her. What got her was the headline.

The most sexy chief Konoha has ever had.

She gripped the article tight, hands shaking as she let her eyes search for the writer’s name. It better not be. It better not be…

“He’s dead.” Sarada screeched, crumbling the paper in her hands before storming out of the coffee shop with it.

The anger she felt was almost too much as she got in her car and hurried home. If she didn’t manage to calm down a bit, it was going to be her committing murder next. She couldn’t have gotten home quickly enough, and when she finally did make it, she all but flew inside.

He was sitting at his computer desk when she barged into the study. He was in the middle of work, his reading glasses low on his nose as he looked over them to the computer screen instead of the stack of papers in front of the keyboard. His hair was a mess, he was wearing only pajama bottoms and he looked pretty good. Really good. But Sarada hated him too much to care at the moment.

“Boruto.” She hissed, the article still tightly gripped in her hand.

“One second, sunshine.” Boruto said as he finished up his last sentence. “Aaaaaand done.” He turned to Sarada and took off his glasses, his eyes slowly raking up and down her form. “What’s cookin’ good lookin’?”

“Don’t talk to me like that.” She growled as she walked over to him and slammed the article down on the desk. “Explain yourself.”

Boruto didn’t so much as glance at the paper, already knowing what this was about. “Yeah, quite the piece of work, don’t you think? The chief of police, the hottest woman whoever hotted. Known for her intellect and ability to kick criminal’s asses. One of my best articles yet.” He grinned.

“This is not, funny! I could… I could get you for slander!” She shook in her rage, embarrassed that he would make such an article of her. “I have a reputation to uphold, I can’t be in your sleazy paper.”

“Hey now, my paper is anything but sleazy, I have class sunshine. I take it you only read the title since you’re so upset. I wrote about much more than your looks, but if you still want to press charges then please arrest me.” He told her with a wink.

She raised a clenched fist, fuming. He was always so infuriating, always able to make her lose her cool in a matter of seconds. “What is wrong with you? With everything that’s going on we don’t need something like this. I need to be looked at as a symbol of hope and peace, not a pretty face!”

Boruto stood and crossed his arms, looking down at her. “Sarada, you can’t get upset when you didn’t even read it. What I wrote was the truth and did nothing to hurt your reputation. Read the damn thing before you blow up on me … and I happen to like your pretty face.”

“There’s no way I’d read that stupid article. It’s embarrassing enough as it is. You know when we got together I asked you to never write about me, no matter what it was. You did this without my permission and used such a scandalous title. I am utterly disgusted. I can’t even look at you.” She ranted, glaring at him even though she really wanted to look away.

Boruto scowled. “What the hell, Sarada? Okay, fine. I wrote it without your permission, but there is nothing wrong with the paper! You’ve got no business being disgusted!”

He was pissed she refused to read it and that she didn’t give him enough credit. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew what was happening and what the people needed to hear right now. What she needed to hear right now if she wasn’t so damn stubborn and would just listen. She wouldn’t though, she was too angry. Far too angry.

“What is wrong is that you wrote a paper about me period!” She scoffed, but her exhaustion was weighing on her. She knew she wasn’t going to get anywhere with him and she really needed to sleep. Her vest and belt were feeling heavier than usual, so she reached for her belt to remove it. “I’m done talking about this… but I’m really just… I’m disappointed.”

Boruto grabbed her wrist and brought them to his chest, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t shut down on me, sunshine. You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. I promise the article isn’t nearly as bad as you think it is … . and the public really needed it. You really needed it … . that’s why I wrote it without asking.” He confessed.

“I don’t even want to think about it anymore. Let me go… I’m going to take a shower and sleep for a while.” She still had so much to do…

Boruto sighed. “Alright … just don’t go to bed angry. How about I take that shower with you, hm?” He asked and stepped closer. “I’ll make it so you can’t think about anything even if you wanted to.”

Sarada clenched her teeth, scowling as she snatched her hands away from him. Her face was blood red and she really wanted to smack him. “I wish I’d never met you… you drive me crazy.”

Boruto blinked dumbly at that before his own anger started to flair. “You take that back right now, Sarada.” He demanded, blue eyes narrowing.

“Or what?” She challenged.

“Oh I’ll show you what, sunshine.” He said and yanked her towards him, his arms holding her firmly in place. In a matter of seconds, he had grabbed her handcuffs and swiped the key, letting her go after. “Now the question is … do I use them on you, or the both of us?” He mused, showing her the cuffs.

“Boruto… please don’t make me hurt you.” She grumbled.

Boruto laughed. “Both of us it is then.” He handcuffed Sarada’s wrist and his own, using a speed she rarely saw because of his lazy nature. “I’m well aware of how badass you are, sunshine. But you know you’re not taking me out any day of the week.” He said and held the key tight in his free hand. “Now take it back.”

“Fine… I don’t regret meeting you… I mean, we had a lot of good times. But I should have never agreed to marry you. You’re obviously insane and love getting me worked up. I can’t handle you and I mean it this time.”

Boruto groaned at the familiar words. “As if I would ever let you divorce me, especially when you’re being ridiculous. I know you’ve been stressed lately and you’re tired, but I seriously can’t take it anymore. It’s about time I handled your ass.”

“You don’t want to try me. I’ve had a really bad day. I’m exhausted. None of your kinks and flirting is going to help you now.” She shook her head, but she knew… Boruto had a way of making her weak. It didn’t matter how angry she was or how tired. She would submit to him and she hated him for it.

“Keep talking shit, sunshine. Only gets me more worked up.” Boruto told her and took a step back to grab his article.

He quickly walked towards their bedroom, dragging Sarada behind him. Once she was inside he slammed the door closed and removed her belt with practiced precision, it falling to the floor with a loud thud. Sarada didn’t say a word as she glared at him, her expression unimpressed. Boruto paid her no mind as he pulled her to the bed. He pushed her down onto the mattress and laid beside her, opening her vest and then holding her handcuffed hand.

“Listen closely.” He told her and held up the article, squinting a bit to read it. “Sarada Uchiha, one of the best looking women around. However her looks can hardly compare to the passion she continues to show everyday as the police chief. Even now when we have suffered from the loss of loved ones, she pushes on and refuses to give up until the one responsible is behind bars. A sense of hopelessness and darkness has struck our town and given many people fear. Yet all we need to do is believe in the police force and it’s chief as she proudly stands against it all to bring us peace again. Need I go on, sunshine?”

Sarada closed her eyes and turned her head away from him. “I really… can’t stand you.” She whispered.

“I know.” Boruto smiled. “That’s why I had you lay down.” He joked before turning serious. “You work your ass off and all anyone seems to do around here is point out all the bad. They nitpick at you and your boys in blue. It pissed me off so I decided to remind the public about what’s really important. You deserved to be thanked, Sarada. You try so hard … and I love you so much for keeping our town safe. Don’t let this asshole get to you. You catch his ass and I’ll be right there beside you to report it all.”

“You’re really… too much.” She sighed. So maybe the article wasn’t bad. Either way, Boruto would always have a way of making her crazy. She loved him so much and yet nobody irked her nerves like he did. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“You can make it up to me on your next day off.” Boruto smirked. “Now let’s get you showered and fed so you can get some sleep.”

“Thank you.” She smiled softly then. As much as she wanted to punch him into the next life, she really and truly loved him even more.

#borusara #boruto uzumaki #sarada uchiha #boruto and sarada #borusara fic #kanatyy

[ijustreallylovesanderssides]

Patton Will Fight You

Summary: Virgil should have believed Patton when he said he would physically fight him.

Warnings: None that I can think of

Pairings: Platonic Moxiety, Platonic LAMP

Thanks to @virgilisaneternalmood and @gamebro-advance for beta reading.

If Virgil had a dollar for every time Patton threatened to physically fight him, he’d have enough money to buy tickets to a Panic! at the Disco concert. It was just metaphorical though. Patton wouldn’t actually fight him. Or so Virgil thought.

It had been a busy day for Virgil. Thomas had auditioned for yet another play, but due to a flat tire had been late. Virgil was trying to be better at not letting those cognitive distortions Logan had talked about get to him, but he still found himself worrying over the impression they’d made arriving late. The audition had gone okay—Thomas hadn’t forgotten the song this time—but Virgil’s mind always found something to nitpick.

So, here he was, sitting on the couch in the living room of the mindscape. At one time, he would have stuck around after the audition and let Thomas know just how small his chances of getting the part were, especially since the director probably hated him. Then he would have holed up in his room and hid from everyone and everything.

But that was then. Now, he would take a moment to address his concerns with Thomas, and Logan would come and work through those concerns with the both of them. Virgil knew that all his worries would just be amplified if he went to his room, so instead he would curl up in the living room with his music for a while.

Even with all these measures, however, sometimes he still ended up spiraling. Why was he like this? He had gone over all of his concerns with Logan and Thomas, identifying all his cognitive distortions. Why couldn’t he just let them go? He was holding Thomas back.

Virgil jumped when he felt a hand on his arm. He looked up to see Patton standing over him with a plate of cookies. Virgil removed his headphones.

“Oh, uh, hey Dad. What’s up?”

Patton held out the plate of cookies. “Sorry kiddo, didn’t mean to startle you. I just thought you might like a treat, you know, since auditions are so hard on you.”            

Virgil gave a small smile. He really didn’t deserve Patton.

He took a cookie. “Thanks.”

Patton grinned. “No problem, kiddo.” He settled on the couch next to Virgil. “So, how was the audition?”

Roman burst into the room. “It was epic! Sure we had a bit of a rough start, but once he got into the song, Thomas nailed his audition. I wouldn’t be surprised if we got the main role!”

“If the director doesn’t hate us,” Virgil couldn’t help muttering.

“What was that, Virgil?” Patton asked.

Virgil ducked his head. “Uh, nothing.”

“Now, none of that, kiddo,” Patton said. “Your thoughts and feelings are just as valid as Roman’s.”

Virgil sighed. “Look, I already went over all my concerns with Thomas and Logan, cognitive distortions and all that. Anything else I say at this point will just bring everybody down.”

Patton gave Virgil a warning look. “I will fight you.”

Virgil put up his hands. “Look, I appreciate that you want me to feel good about myself and all, but sometimes we just have to accept the facts.”

Roman stepped forward. “Virgil—”

Virgil cut him off. “I’m serious. It’s pathetic how I—”

It was Virgil’s turn to be cut off, as, with a cry, Patton launched himself at Virgil, sending them both tumbling off the couch, cookies flying in every direction.

Virgil grunted when he landed on the floor, Patton on top of him. “Patton, what the heck!”

Patton settled himself more firmly on top of Virgil then grabbed Virgil’s wrists, pinning him thoroughly to the ground. “I told you I would physically fight you.”

Virgil bucked and squirmed, trying to dislodge Patton, but Patton was a lot stronger than he would have thought. “All right, I get it. Now get off!”

Patton shook his head. “Sorry kiddo. I’m not letting you up until you say five nice things about yourself.”

“Oh, come on!” Virgil looked over at Roman. “Help me!”

Roman grinned. “What’s wrong, Dead Poet’s Anxiety? It’s not too difficult. Just say a few kind words and you’re free.”

Virgil growled and struggled some more, but Patton didn’t budge.

Logan walked in. “What is going on out here?”

Patton looked up. “Oh, hey there Logan! Don’t mind us. I’m just helping Virgil think a bit more positively about himself, that’s all.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “I fail to see how wrestling on the floor will help.”

“Allow me to bring you up to speed,” Roman said. “Our dear padre has decreed that Virgil must recite five positive things about himself before Patton will release him.”

“Hmm, a bit extreme.”

“Right?” Virgil said. “Logan, get him off of me!”

Logan adjusted his glasses. “I’m sorry Virgil, but although I find the method a bit extra, if it will help you to see yourself in a more positive light, then I have no objections.”

“Oh, come on!” Virgil exclaimed. “It this really necessary?”

“Yes,” the other three responded in unison.

With a sigh, Virgil lay limp. There wasn’t much point in continuing to struggle. He couldn’t break Patton’s hold, and even if he did, the Roman would probably help Patton pin him down again.

“This is stupid.”

Patton gave him an encouraging smile. “Come on, kiddo. I’m sure you can think of something!”

Virgil looked at the ceiling and thought, trying not to think about the other three staring at him, waiting for an answer, but his mind was blank and they were still looking at him and—

Okay, deep breath. He could do this. He had to if he wanted to get off the floor anytime soon.

“I lower expectations for social gatherings, so that if something good does happen, it’s pleasantly surprising.”

“You used that in the Accepting Anxiety video, but I suppose we can count it,” Logan said.

Virgil rolled his eyes. They were asking him to go against years of self-deprecation and anxiety. He wasn’t going to be very original. And Logan had given him an idea.

“I’m the one who made Thomas double and triple check things he needed to study before taking tests,” Virgil said, looking directly at Logan.

Logan lifted an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Well, now you’re just being difficult,” Roman said in exasperation.

“Now, now,” Patton said. “It’s still counts to remember and review good things about ourselves.” He cut off Virgil’s smirk with a serious look. “Just don’t do it as a joke. As long as you use them as a valid, meaningful reason, it’s okay to repeat ones we’ve used before.”

“Whatever,” Virgil mumbled.

He went on to use Roman’s and Patton’s examples from the video, but that still left him with one more.

“Come on, Pat,” he begged. “I’ve done four. Isn’t that good enough?”

Patton shook his head. “Sorry kiddo, but you’re not getting up until you give all five.”

Virgil groaned. “This is cruel and unusual punishment.”

“Yeah, because learning to love yourself is totally a bad thing,” Roman said.

“Easy for you to say,” Virgil mumbled. Roman was literally Thomas’ ego. Of course he didn’t have trouble thinking well of himself.

But then again, who better to imitate then the very embodiment of self-love? What would Roman say in this situation? Not that Roman would be in this situation because he wouldn’t need to have Patton literally tackle him to say something nice about himself but—

Focus. He could do this. Just one more and he was free. Roman was very proud of his looks, and while Virgil didn’t necessarily like how he looked he did have a reputation to uphold so…

“I rock the edgy, emo look.”

Patton grinned brightly and threw himself down on Virgil to give him a hug. Virgil definitely did not let out a surprised squeak.

“See, I knew you could do it! I’m so proud of you.”

“Patton,” Virgil wheezed from beneath him. “Can’t breathe.”

“Oh! Sorry, kiddo.”

Patton rolled off of Virgil, allowing him to finally sit up. Virgil straightened his hoodie grumpily as Patton looked around at the cookies strewn everywhere, crushed from their scuffle.

“Oops! Looks like I’m going to have to make another batch of cookies.” Patton hopped up. “Oh well, I guess that’s just the way the cookie crumbles.” He looked down at Virgil. “Need help up, kiddo?”

“I’m fine,” Virgil said as he stood. “Go make your cookies.”

“If you say so. Just remember to be nice to you,” Patton said, ruffling Virgil’s hair.

Virgil half-heartedly batted Patton’s hand away and Patton bounced off cheerily to the kitchen.

“Well, now that’s over I have some research to do.” Logan said, before sinking down to his room.

“And I have an epic quest waiting for me,” Roman announced, then paused. “You will be fine, Virgil, won’t you?”

Virgil ducked his head in embarrassment at Roman’s concern. “Um, yeah. I’m good. Go rescue your damsel or prince or whatever.”

Roman brightened. “I shall return victorious. Until later, Sad’s so Raven!”

Virgil shook his head with a small smile. What a bunch of dorks, but they were his dorks, and he couldn’t be more grateful that they had accepted him. Maybe things weren’t so bad.

@seas-space-and-stardust @ravengrangergirl @virgilisaneternalmood @alurea-actually @hi-disappointed-im-daughter @randomslasher

#sanders sides fic #my fic #platonic moxiety #platonic lamp #sanders sides #alice writes #alice's posts

[liesyousoldme]

“fuck’s sake, what’s your problem?”

This is so late and I’m sorry but I finally filled your prompt!

Richie/Eddie, 1.9k words, rated T for language

Eddie was seething. After a long ass day of listeningto his mother nitpicking and nagging like he was fucking ten years old, he just wanted to hang out with hisfriends and relax, but apparently that wasn’t going to happen.

“Hey Eds,” Richie called to him. Eddie took a deepbreath to calm himself. It didn’t work. He sunk deeper into the couch in Bill’sliving room, hoping he could somehow just melt into the fabric and disappearand never listen to one of Richie’s stupid comments ever again. Instead, hefelt a body plop onto the couch next to him, followed by a loud voice in hisear. “You seem mighty feisty today, little one!”

“Shut up, Richie,” Eddie said lowly. “I’m serious, I’mnot in the mood.”

“That’s not what your mom said last ni-“

“Richie!”

Richie just grinned, seemingly unaware that Eddie waslosing his fucking mind.

“You’re so cute when you’re mad, Eds,” he said, andreached over. Eddie knew he was swooping in to pinch his cheek, and he jumpedup angrily.

“Don’t pinch my cheeks, Richie!” He yelled. He wasaware the other Losers were all looking at him, but he didn’t care anymore. Hewas upset. “And don’t call me Eds! I’ve been telling you for the past eightyears to not fucking call me that! And don’t call me cute either, I’m notfucking cute!”

Richie’s eyes were wide, and no one spoke.

“I’m leaving,” Eddie said, storming out of the room.He went to the front door and angrily slammed it behind him. He groaned when heheard someone following him. He glanced back, clenching his hands into fistswhen he saw it was Richie. “Leave me alone, Richie!”

“Fucks sake, what’s your problem?” Richie asked,genuinely confused. “I haven’t done anything that I don’t always do.”

“Exactly!” Eddie screamed. “You always fucking do it!Even when I ask you not to, you still do it!”

“I- okay, I’ll stop, I’m sorry-“

“It’s not enough! The damage is done, okay? You callme fucking Eds and cute and pinch my cheek like I’m a fucking baby, like I’m alittle kid and weak and helpless, just like my mom treats me. And I’m not!”

“I know you’re not, I’m sorry-“

“I’m not a kid,” Eddie ranted on, ignoring Richie. “I’meighteen years old, I’m going to college soon, and I’m an adult! I’m a grownman, I’m not a baby, and I’m not cute, I don’t want you to think I’m cute –“

He cut himself off, biting his lip like he’d said toomuch. Richie just stared at him, unsure for the first time in his life of whatto say.

“I’m gonna go,” Eddie said finally.

“Eddie, don’t go,” Richie said frowning. “I didn’tknow you felt that way or I never would have-“

“Really?” Eddie said. “Because I asked you over andover to stop and you never did. Did you not think there was a reason I askedyou to stop?”

Richie opened his mouth to speak and then closed itagain. Eddie rolled his eyes, turned around, and walked home alone.

*

Eddie glanced up when he heard a knocking on hiswindow, and stood up, ready to send Richie away. However, he did a double takewhen he saw red hair through the window, and he hurried instead to help Beverlyinside.

“How does Richie do that all the time?” She asked,once she was settled on her feet. “I thought I was going to die like, fourdifferent times.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Is there a reason you’re here,Bev?”

“Damn,” she said, taking a seat at his desk chair. “Stillin a bad mood, I see.”

“Well, it’s only been like an hour, so…”

“Care to explain what happened?”

“Not particularly,” Eddie said, sitting on his bed.Beverly gave him A Look. He sighed. “Fine. I’m pissed at Richie.”

“Yeah, we all gathered that much,” she said. “No onereally understands why. Richie says that shit all the time.”

“That’s the point, Bev. I ask him to stop and he doesn’t.He’s never even asked why I want him to stop.”

“I mean, I can see it from both sides,” Beverly said,and Eddie groaned. “Hear me out! Like, when you asked him to stop he totallyshould have listened. But also, it’s Richie. And we all know he acts like hedoes because he wants attention, and you’re his main target because he wantsyour attention most of all.”

Eddie opened his mouth to argue.

“No! Let me finish. Richie can be the most annoyingperson ever, but he’s also one of the best people ever. He does what he doesbecause it gets a rise out of you and he doesn’t know how the fuck else toflirt with you.”

“He is not flirting with me,” Eddie argued.

Bev snorted. “Debatable. Besides, why do you hate itso much that he calls you that stuff? The rest of us all figured you liked itand were just playing along with him.”

Eddie shrugged. “I mean… It reminds me of my momsometimes. When he calls me cute and pinches my cheeks. I don’t know how I feelabout Eds, sometimes it feels like a little kid nickname but other times itfeels like something… special, just for him. But…”

“That’s adorable as fuck,” Beverly stated. Eddierolled his eyes. “But also, Richie doesn’t mean those things in a little kidkinda way. Everyone knows Richie has a crush on you, so I doubt when he callsyou cute he means it like your mom does.”

“I already said, Richie does not have a crush on me.It’s not flirting.”

“Listen, as Richie’s best friend, I’m privy to certaininformation. You have a crush on him, right?”

Eddie bit his lip. “I mean –“

“You have a crush on him, right,” Beverly repeated.Eddie feebly nodded. “Okay. Well, I can assure you it’s mutual. And that hefinds you much more than just cute. Especially when you wear your red shorts.”

Eddie gasped, and Beverly giggled.

“That’s the real problem, right? You don’t want him tothink you’re cute, you want him to think you’re hot.”

Eddie blushed. “Not hot in particular, just… not likea baby. And I hate his flirting thing, because it doesn’t feel real. Sometimesit feels like he’s making fun of me.”

“He’s not. Well, maybe a little,” Beverly conceded, “butit’s all in good fun. He’ll probably still do that stuff after you’ve starteddating.”

“Oh my god, Bev, don’t say stuff like that,” Eddiesaid, cheeks flaming. “I haven’t even talked to him yet…”

“Well…”

“What?” Eddie asked, suddenly panicked.

“He might actually be waiting outside.”

Eddie gaped at her. Beverly grinned, pecked him on thecheek, and climbed back out the window. Eddie was still gaping a few minuteslater when Richie climbed in.

“You’re gonna catch flies like that,” he said, andEddie closed his mouth. “So are you going to accept my apology this time?”

Eddie flinched at the hurt in Richie’s voice.

“Only if you accept mine,” he mumbled, and smiled whenRichie sat next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Cawse I will, deah,” Richie said.

Eddie scrunched his nose. “The fuck was that?”

“Work in progress,” Richie admitted, flushing. “Anyway,I am sorry for never listening when you tell me to stop doing that stuff. Iguess I thought…”

He trailed off, and Eddie leaned into him. “That I wasjust playing along?”

“Yeah,” Richie agreed. “But if you really want me tostop, I will. I just didn’t understand why.”

“I, um,” he paused, closing his eyes. If Beverly waslying, he was going to kill her. “I don’t like it when you flirt with me theway you do-“ Richie’s arm suddenly fell from his shoulders, and Eddie looked upto see Richie’s face looking dejected. “No! I just mean – sometimes it feelslike you’re making fun of me. Especially when you call me cute and pinch mecheeks ‘cause it’s like a baby, right? Like a little kid. Because I’m short, Iguess, I don’t know? But it hurts because my mom treats me like I’m a baby, sothen I think that you see me that way, too.”

“I don’t, Eddie,” Richie said honestly, and Eddiealmost winced at how awkward ‘Eddie’ sounded coming out of Richie’s mouth. “Ithink you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, and… I’ve been flirting withyou since we were like, ten, and I guess I never changed my technique over theyears, mostly because… I didn’t think you’d want me to flirt with you for real.”

“Do you want to flirt with me for real?” Eddie askedquietly.

Richie was looking down, picking at a loose thread inhis jeans. “I mean… Yeah…”

“Oh,” Eddie’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “Youcould try it now.”

Richie cleared his throat. “I um, I don’t really knowwhat to say.”

“Trashmouth Tozier, speechless for the first time inhis life?” Eddie teased, voice still quiet. “It’s okay, I don’t think I’d knowhow to respond anyway.”

“I don’t call you cute because I see you like a littlekid,” Richie said suddenly, looking up at Eddie. “I call you cute because youare cute. But you’re more than that, too. You’re fucking… You’re beautiful. Andsexy. I – sometimes I can’t think right around you and so I say stupid shitbecause your nose scrunches up and your face gets extra adorable when I saystupid shit, and nothing feels better than when your attention is on me. I knowthat’s not like, really flirting, but I figured you should know.”

Eddie leaned forward so their noses were brushing, andhe heard Richie’s breath hitch. “That was really good flirting, if you ask me.”

“Yeah?” Richie smiled. Eddie giggled, nodding. “Can Istill call you Eds?”

Eddie rolled his eyes and pretended to think about it.“On one condition.”

“What’s that?” Richie asked, bringing his hand up torest on Eddie’s shoulder.

“You have to kiss me.”

Richie’s jaw dropped. “What the fuck, Eddie Spaghetti.Looks like you’re the one who can flirt in this relationship.”

“Oh my god! No Eddie Spaghetti! Off limits!”

“Can I kiss you for it?” Richie asked with a smirk.

“No!” Eddie squealed, but Richie was already leaningin. His smile faded when their lips touched, and for a moment they were bothstill.

Richie pulled back a little, their foreheads and nosesstill touching. “This okay?”

Eddie sighed softly. “Yeah,” he said. “And I love you.”

“Oh my god, you’re so much better at this boyfriendstuff than me,” Richie whined, even though he was smiling.

“Who said we’re boyfriends?” Eddie asked. Richie pressedanother kiss to his lips. “Yeah, okay, we’re boyfriends.”

Richie laughed. “Good. And I love you, too.”

“Can you actually kiss me, now?” Eddie asked, soRichie did, bringing their lips together softly at first, timid, until Eddiebrought a hand up to tangle in Richie’s hair. Richie gasped against Eddie’slips, and Eddie deepened the kiss.

“Fuck,” Richie mumbled when they pulled back. Hewrapped an arm across Eddie’s chest and pulled him down so that they werecuddled together on the bed. “I’m so fucking happy, Eds.”

Eddie smiled, letting his head fall on Richie’s chestand feeling butterflies when he realized how fast Richie’s heart was beating.

“Me too,” he agreed. “Thanks for coming after me eventhough I was an ass.”

Richie laughed, and Eddie felt the vibrations of it.He snuggled in deeper, sighing when Richie’s hand started combing through hishair. “Of course, Eds. Anytime.”  

#reddie #reddie fic #richie x eddie #ek x rt #reddie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #my fic

[carry-on-kissing-snowbaz]

Falling Asleep

Just a little snowbaz fluff and bed sharing. Hope you enjoy! <3

Word Count: 1795

Simon

When Simon had agreed to help Baz find his mother’s killer, he had expected violent chases through the wavering wood, travels into unexplored areas of the catacombs, and even searching for the nursery she had died in. What he hadn’t expected was hours and hours of reading through old newspapers and books. Somehow, the most mysterious and important quest Simon had ever had handed to him had become the most boring.

“Can’t we check the catacombs?” Simon asked.

Penny scrunched up her nose, expression confused.

“Didn’t you search through all of it during fifth year?” She asked.

Baz glanced at him and smirked.

“Yeah,” Simon responded, cheeks warm, “but I wasn’t looking for clues about Headmistress Pitch, I was looking for, well, Baz.”

Baz threw his hand up over his forehead, fluttering his eyelashes dramatically.

“Oh how you make me swoon Snow.”

Simon glared at him.

“Simon I know this is boring but until winter break, this is all we can do,” Penny said.

“And you? Are you satisfied with just sitting around?” Simon asked, eyes on Baz.

Something flickered in Baz’s eyes. He wanted action as much as Simon did, probably more than Simon did. This was his mother’s killer they were looking for after all; he would be out for blood.

“No,” Baz said reluctantly as if agreeing with Simon was the worse thing possible, “but Bunce is right. For now, this is all we can do.”

“Plus, reading is fun,” Penny said.

“And enriching,” Baz said.

“Nerds,” Simon muttered. 

They spent the rest of the night scouring the texts that Baz had stolen for them that week. Eventually, Simon’s vision was blurring on the words and he kept rereading the same sentence. Baz acted like he was unaffected, but Simon noticed the way his eyelids kept shutting briefly between pages. Even Penny looked like she was struggling a bit.

“I’m going to finish this book in my room, if I wait much later then I’ll be spotted leaving,” Penny said.

“Then I’m going to bed,” Simon said.

Penny slapped her hand flat across the pages of the book Simon had open in his lap, preventing him from snapping it shut.

“Oh no you won’t. You need to finish that by tonight.”

Simon felt like growling, or whining.

“I’ll make sure he gets it done,” Baz said.

“You’re not my baby sitter.”

Penny rose and grabbed all of her things. With one last warning glance for the both of them, she threw on her cape and left.

“That was all a ploy right? You just said that to make her leave so we could sleep,” Simon said.

“As much as I want to sleep right now, the books are more important,” Baz said.

Simon groaned. 

“This is the one time I was grateful for your plotting skills.”

Baz looked at his own bed, piled with books that Penny had already finished and discarded. Then he glanced over at Simon’s bed and it’s virtually uncluttered duvet cover. 

“Yes you can leave the book shelf that used to be your bed and sit with me,” Simon said.

Baz didn’t say thank you but he did walk over and sit as far away from Simon as he could on the bed.

“All right, let’s get this done Snow.”

Simon wasn’t sure when, but at some point his eyes had shut and hadn’t reopened.

Baz

Baz felt warm. In fact, he was not used to waking up feeling so warm. Sleepily, he scooted closer to the source of the warmth. He had the dizzy feeling that he was curled up around the sun. Then, as he started to wake up more clearly, he realized that he was wrapped around clothing. More than that, he was wrapped around someone.

His eyes flew open.

Snow’s moles were up close and personal, his eyes shut in deep sleep. One of his arms was wrapped around Baz and one of Baz’s legs was slung over Snow’s. For one blissful second, Baz felt a surge of happiness. He had dreamt about this very thing, but real life was so much more satisfying than a murky dream.

Then, as he remembered who he and Snow were, Baz felt his stomach drop out of him.

Before he could move Snow’s eyelids opened, sleep fuzzy. The sight tore at something inside of Baz but he didn’t let it show.

“Could you remove your club of an arm from me so I can breath?” Baz hissed.

Snow’s eyes widened. Within seconds his face went deathly pale and then a deep red. 

“B-Baz, what…?”

Baz did not want to hear all the things Snow would say. He didn’t want to know how embarrassed or freaked out he was. He wanted to end this experience before it could be tarnished.

“We fell asleep you git! And now we’re behind on all the reading we were supposed to do,” Baz snapped.

Snow sat up and away, eyes bugging out of his head.

“I…how can you even be concerned with that right now?” He asked.

“You mean, why am I not having a meltdown over having woken up in your arms?” Baz asked.

“It was one arm, not both of them,” Snow said, defensively.

Trust Snow to nitpick that detail.

“We’re searching for my mother’s killer. Waking up fully clothed and rested is hardly the most troubling thing on my mind at the moment.”

Snow’s expression softened.

“You’re right. I was being stupid. I just-“

Baz cut him off.

“Oh don’t worry Snow, I plan to retch over the memory later. As soon as my mother’s killer is dead, you’ll have my full attention.”

Snow glared at him.

“I’m going to get breakfast,” He muttered.

“Probably a good idea,” Baz said, tiredly.

Once Snow was dressed and out the door Baz fell back onto the bed. He curled into the duvet and closed his eyes. I slept with Simon Snow he thought. And it really had been just sleeping, but it had been better than anything he could have imagined.

Simon

Two days. It had been two days since the sleeping incident. Simon hadn’t been able to put it out of his mind. Baz seemed to have managed just that. He gave no indication that he cared about or was even thinking of the experience. Penny hadn’t even caught on yet, which was saying something. If Baz didn’t care and Penny didn’t suspect something, then surely Simon could move past it.

But he couldn’t. He kept replaying the moment of waking up in his mind. Before he had opened his eyes, he had felt a cozy body under his arm. He’d wanted to squeeze closer, to press his nose into the hair that had been tickling his collarbone, but he’d opened his eyes instead. Even as he’d seen the look of sheer hostility in Baz’s eyes, for a moment Simon had felt a burst of warmth.

This was his worst enemy. But he was also the guy Simon had spent the night with.

It was late at night and Penny was on her last batch of books. Simon envied her; his stack had grown steadily over the last two days. Baz was only just behind Penny.

“Simon I need you to start reading more, I’ll have to start taking on some of the books in your stack if you don’t get further along soon,” Penny said.

Simon glanced at her.

“Because you would hate that so much,” He said.

Penny’s glare softened.

“Well, it still isn’t an efficient way to get through all of the books.”

Baz smiled at them; a real smile, not the sharp edged smirk he usually wore.

Simon felt his heart thump unevenly.

“Let’s call it a night,” Baz said, “I think Snow’s brain will explode if we don’t.”

Penny shrugged, obviously irritated, but didn’t argue. Simon suspected that even she wanted to go to her room and sleep.

“This would work a lot better if you’d just let me sleep here on research nights,” Penny said.

Baz and Simon both said no at the same time. 

Simon froze, eyes locked with Baz’s. He’d seen a look slither across his face, and he could have sworn it was nervousness. 

“Okay,” Penny said, eyes darting back and forth between them, “See you two tomorrow, I guess.”

When she was out the door Simon started to speak and was promptly cut off.

“Don’t,” Baz said.

Simon growled.

“Why not? It’s not as if you aren’t thinking about it.”

Baz swung around to face him, grey eyes cold and angry.

“We fell asleep on your bed. Why are you trying to make this weird? Can’t we just move on?” Baz demanded.

“But…” 

“But?’ 

Simon looked away.

“I don’t want to move on,” Simon said.

He looked up and saw that Baz had gone rigid.

“I-I liked it,” Simon whispered.

Baz

He’d liked it. Simon fucking Snow had been thinking about their night spent together and he’d liked it. Baz was sure he was stuck in a dream, or some sort of alternate reality. 

“What do you mean Snow? You liked procrastinating on your reading? Because that isn’t very helpful.”

Snow’s jaw hardened.

“I am not talking about books,” He said.

“Then what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how nice it was waking up with you in my arms!” Simon said.

Baz stared at him.

“Snow…”

Blue eyes were all Baz could see. Snow had liked it. But what did that mean? Baz couldn’t let himself get too caught up.

“Baz can you please say something?”

Baz shook his head.

“I’m not sure what to say Snow.”

Snow took a step towards him.

“Say you liked it too,” Snow whispered.

Baz felt himself caving.

“Say that you enjoyed waking up together,” He continued.

Baz’s knees felt weak.

“Say you like me,” Snow finished.

Baz let Snow snake their hands together.

“Simon I-I don’t know about this.”

Snow’s eyes sparked.

“I like it when you say my name,” He said.

Baz felt like he was under a spell.

“Simon,” Baz repeated.

Simon leaned forward just slightly and pressed his lips against Baz’s. It wasn’t the wild make-outs of his dreams, or the passionate kiss they sometimes shared before they were killed in his nightmares. It was just the softest press of lips to lips, the sweetest pressure Baz had ever felt.

“Let’s go to sleep,” Simon said.

Baz nodded.

They stumbled towards Simon’s bed and awkwardly got under the covers. For a moment, neither one of them moved from their respective edges of the bed; but then Snow was jutting forward, warm hands gathering Baz up against him. Baz relaxed against him and wrapped his arm around Snow’s chest. 

They were finally right where they wanted to be.

#carry-on-kissing-snowbaz #my fanfiction #carry on #carry on fanfic #carry on fanfiction #carry on fan fic #simon snow #Simon and Baz #snowbaz #baz pitch #basilton pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #penny bunce #Penelope Bunce #canon divergence #world of mages #Watford