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nevloveslemons · 7 months

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Falling For the Saint (Clive Babineaux x Reader Insert)

Tags?: AFAB Reader, Clutzy reader, Season 1-2 ish, reader type to try and quietly eat at 4 am and end up accidentally walking up everyone, Fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, I’m giving you a name a personality, Pink haired insert (dyed,) ummmmmm I dunno let’s feel the vibe. probably many police precinct inaccuracies.

Today was going abnormally slow today, like usual. From the moment Clive hit his snooze button at 5, he decided today was going to be low key. Today somehow drained him, thinking about what whacky personality trait ‘Liv’s going to have today from trying to bring up the missing kids to his Lieutenant, from deciding what stale donut he’ll snack on for ‘lunch’ because he forgot his homemade packed lunch in the fridge somehow. (He even sat on the couch for 5 minutes just sitting.)

after getting ready and getting his holy grail; black coffee (he hate’s the stereotype of cops; donuts, plain coffee because they can’t afford the time, stiff posture, proper, despite showing many of them.) He walked into the precinct, unconsciously checking to see if everything’s under control and calm, which it was not.

In the bullpen he noticed an abundance of his fellow detectives here ON time with is unusual as his superiors aren’t as strict as they should be when it comes to being on time. He passed through the gate and saw his co-workers surrounding someone. You. He pauses, he’s never seen someone so… colourful?

You’re clad in a cat-red, maxi skirt with matching coloured beret and pumps. You had a black and white pocadot blouse with small-medium, poofy sleeves. Even your makeup was bold, bold but colourful, his mind actually went to Marilyn Monroe. Your lips were glossy and red, blush a cool rouge, your cat eyeliner and eye makeup drew him in, kin to the characters he had a crush on as a child in animation movies.

He realized after analyzing your outfit he was being creepy. He quickly snapped his head away from your being and started towards his desk. “Clive! Clive!” One of his co-workers grabbed his jacket with their fingers. He was surprised but held his strong expression, instead letting an exasperated looking face whilst raising his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. “Have you met Beth?” They asked with excitement clear in their tone.

“Uh, no considering I just walked through the gates.” He answered. His tone coming out bored and annoyed, he was a tad annoyed; yes, but it was mainly just his tone/being. He wasn’t trying to sound like this. “We’ll turn your frown upside down” he couldn’t resist, he rolled his eyes. “She’s so bright honestly! A bit of a clutz; I moved in everyones mugs away from the edge of their desks, but she just got transferred from the 99th precinct!” They then pull him to the box of muffins that caught his attention. (other than you lol, if i got to- man now I want a Timmies blueberry muffin :()

“Beth brought these in as a like ‘token of appreciation?’ If we cops were doing that pretty sure we’re supposed to but, eh?”

Pumpkin-Walnut. Acquired.

After his brunch muffin he did a bit of paper work, some back and forth between his desk, the board, and the morgue and by time you know it. It’s lunch. Like stated, brunch muffin, Clive thinks it’s okay to make breakfast count as lunch (8-10 bfast 11-1 lunch, he had his muffin at 7 and hasn’t eaten since.) He was sitting at his desk, leaning his chin on his right hand whilst closing his eyes and not thinking… just, sitting? Then he could feel someone approach him so he eyed his eyes to see you. The Newbie.

“Hello, Detective Babineaux, I’m Elizabeth Johnson. I transferred here from the Nine-Nine and according to our Lieutenant, you’ve been put on my ‘babysitting?’” He looks at you whilst you explain your being there when he hears a rather loud, gurgle. His eyes go from yours to your stomach and back to yours, once he sees your face he notices how quickly you flushed.

“Ah, I apologize. I forgot my lunch at home and planned to have a muffin for lunch only to find them gone.” You let a small chuckle out and let your eyes wonder to anywhere but Clive’s eyes.

“I guess you and I are in the same boat, huh?” He says in hopes of settling some of your embarrassment.

“Oh! You forgot your lunch too?” Your eyes light up, seemingly forgetting about your former emotion. “Uh, yeah-“ He begins going on about what he had packed for lunch. You two talked the duration just about food. You’re not sure how, it went from your lunches and how you wish you had them to the containers their in to the spices and seasonings used. Clive doesn’t realize it but he started to smile when talking to you.

(First time writing on here…..)

#izombie x reader #clive babineaux #izombiereaderinsert

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thescorpionmonarch · 6 months

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Astro forecast

Lunar eclipse in Taurus Oct 28th. Many other aspects going on. Scorpio and Taurus Stellium in effect.

Your resources vs other people's resources or with other people's resources is a theme. Watch for feeling greed or competition over resources. Vibe reminds me of "gluttony".

How much you eat and what you eat needs to be studied. Many of you are going through body changes. Either in weight, body type, taste bud shift, or just what your body can't deal with anymore. Some of you are frustrated because of the time it takes to commit to a better way of consuming food for your goals/needs.

Addictions in general are being brought up. Drugs, sex, food, exercise, self harm, chaotic bonds, isolation, spiritual/religious/addiction. Addictions can also be what you tend to abuse.

Cleanse. Wash up more. Do smoke cleanses more. Use a body spray for cleansing. Pray for cleansing. Go to therapy. Detox from substances. Do less with certain people. Drink more water. If you aren't going to use or repurpose an Item, donate it to someone, or ask someone who's in need, or donate it to charities. Throwing it out being the last option, but some items you don't have an option. Watch for hoarding. Dance the energy or items away over a bonfire (for what you can burn safely).

Speaking of item cleanse, some of you have this thing for going down memory lane of finding items. Moon in taurus is one of those "this item has sentimental value" placements. If you are feeling this vibe, I am talking to you.

If you are older, cleansing can be inheritance to your kids, nieces, or nephews. Scorpio energy is the placement for inheritance.

Feeling rebellious against the system over government resources and wealth imbalance, speak up.

--------Some of you might rebel in ways that errr...... I can't say here, but "undercover". Which I get.

Some are soul searching career wise. Just jumping from job to job.

Identity theft? As well as questioning one's identity. Death and rebirth of a present identity.

More likely to injure yourself during physical labor during this time. Also more likely to see b!00d as apart of that. Mars in scorpio increases being more abravise getting things done, which also increases harsher injuries. Not necessarily clutziness. Just need to slow down and acknowledge your physical abilities as is.

Extra sleep is needed when transforming internal and external situations.

Your ancestors may be more temperamental than you are about the same situations.

Imagine getting fired and hired on the same day (or the other way around).

"I need to be an adultier adult"

Some of you don't know what you want living situation wise.

"Free shit ". Because everybody is getting rid of their stuff and hate waste.

Scorpio season is grieving season.

Enhance psychic/intuitive senses. Increased accuracy. Veil is thin.

Psychometry.

Lots of remote viewing abilities popping up.

Trust issues around spiritual and religious beliefs.

It's not your job to parent anyone else (unless they are your child, even then, adult kids have to be responsible for them).

Kundalini energy. Sex magick. Use it.

This is where I will stop because I heard a lot of messages that I found conflicting. It might be my beliefs, but it could the wrong types of entities trying to pass a message and I am just filtering a lot of it.

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thestalkerbunny · 11 months

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I hateread Lucoa is my XX and it explicitly confirmed Lucoa wants to fuck a child, multiple times. She even does shit like turn everyone into zombies to make it easier. Worse still is the author felt the need to bring other characters down as well.

-Tohru‘s character development learning to think of humans as equals never happened because apparently she is totally ok with lucoa sexually assaulting human kids.

-Elma is not a clutzy, glutton with a heart of gold. She is someone who helps an adult solicit a child.

-Kobayashis early choice to ignore lucoas red flags makes her look even worse.

She's just a low level character. There are never any repercussions for her.

#TSB ask

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rxscss · 1 year

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"𝒾 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑜𝓇𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝓇𝓊𝓃, 𝒾 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝑜𝓃𝑒, 𝑜𝒽 𝓃𝑜, 𝒾 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝒷𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝓊𝓃𝑔𝓈, 𝒸𝒶𝓃'𝓉 𝒷𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓉𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓊𝑒, 𝑜𝒽 𝓃𝑜, 𝒾 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝒷𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊."

(—) ★ spotted!! nadia sakarya on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid! many say that the 32 year old looks like hande ercel, but i don’t really see it. while the actress is known for being spontaneous my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be snippy i swear, every time i think of them, i hear the song midnight sky by miley cyrus {she/her / cisfemale} - penned by candice

𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓼

connections || musings || pinterest || instagram || headcanons

𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓼

name: nadia sakarya

age: thirty two

nicknames: nad

date of birth: may 19th, 1989

astrological sign: taurus

place of birth: east harlem, new york city

occupation: actress/comedian

label: the connard

positive traits: spontaneous, quick-witted, realistic, headstrong

negative traits: snippy, sarcastic, pessimistic, blunt

characters/celebrities she’s like: penn badgley post gossip girl shitting on the show in interviews, emily ratajkowski calling out sexism and misogyny in the industry, chelsea handler, jennifer lawrence, aubrey plaza

𝓫𝓲𝓸𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓹𝓱𝔂

born and raised as an only child, nadia was a new york city kid down to her core.

her mother being a teacher at the local elementary school and her father owning a butcher shop, though her immediate family was small, it was the neighbors and friends in her neighborhood that became nadia's family.

her parents were givers - often working double time to give to their community - her father giving food out to the homeless daily, her mother working long hours at the school to help any children who needed extra help. they taught nadia at an early age that giving back, even when they didn't have that much, was incredibly important.

they raised her to be strong, free of ignorance and bias, and always wanted her to be someone that stood up to any kind of injustice, and that's exactly what nadia became - an incredibly headstrong girl, fighting for what was right, questioning authority to a fault, having 'she's a great student, but talks too much' written on every single one of her report cards growing up.

because of this, her parents felt as though she needed an outlet and enrolled nadia in a local theater troupe after school.

often cast as the villain or the comic relief sidekick, nadia never had 'main character' potential - was never the soft spoken, pretty lead with the voice of an angel. she was always the one that was too loud, too crass and too clutzy, but little did she know that that would one day be her super power.

getting into laguardia high school was when everything changed for nadia. her quirks becoming her strengths, realizing that she didn't need to be the pretty damsel in distress lead and that she was a powerhouse all on her own, turning minor roles into the one that everyone was talking about when the curtain dropped.

only having theater experience, her plan was to head to broadway, making it into julliard college for acting. however, despite how talented she was when it came to acting, she couldn't sing for shit. no matter how many lessons she took, no matter how hard she tried, she simply didn't have it. and a voice was needed for broadway.

at a complete loss and extremely discouraged being surrounded by talent from all over the world, nadia dropped out of college halfway through her freshman year, much to her parent's dismay.

she began doing standup comedy acts at random comedy clubs around the city, trying to make herself known, trying to gain a following, and trying to make it somehow.

one of her main schticks was mimicking the upper east side prep school kids she had grown up making fun of with her friends, and one night, the casting director for an up and coming cw drama about said upper east side brats just so happened to be in the audience.

loving nadia's dramatic portrayal of an upper east side snob, he asked her to audition for the role of blair waldorf in gossip girl and after a long audition process, nadia got the role.

thankful she was able to stay in new york city, close to her family and friends, the role was a complete out of body experience for her and catapulted her into overnight fame.

because of who her character was, she started getting cast in prestigious fashion campaigns, a frequent on the met gala red carpet, and someone who sat front row at every fashion week, and nadia found it hysterical, because it was the furthest thing from who she was.

although the role paid the bills, gave her enough money to help both of her parents retire and move out to a nice house in long island, the reputation the role gave her was something she absolutely hated - because it was so far removed from who she really was.

after a six year run, the show finally wrapped, and nadia didn't hesitate to make it known how stupid she thought the show was and how she was absolutely nothing like blair waldorf in real life. often performing her own sold out comedy shows where she had an entire bit talking about how dumb gossip girl was.

wanting nothing more than to break out into the world of serious acting, however, has managed to become a staple in the genre that is the personification of everything she's against - which is romcoms.

during her run on gossip girl and now, years after, she has been landing rom-com after rom-com, becoming a staple in a genre that she hates with a fiery passion, and her sarcastic answers during press tours don't shy away from letting it be known.

𝓯𝓲𝓵𝓶𝓸𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓹𝓱𝔂 & 𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓻

tv + movie career:

2010 - 2016 -gossip girl., role: blair waldorf age: 21-27, awards: teen choice award for choice tv actress 2010 & 2012

2010- clueless. role: tai, age: 21, awards & acclaim: none

2012- mean girls. role: janis ian, age: 23, awards & acclaim: none

2013- the devil wears prada. role: andrea sachs, age: 24, awards & acclaim: none.

2014- easy a, role: olive penderghast, age: 25 awards & acclaims: none

2015- new girl, role: 3 episode guest arc as abby day, age: 26, awards & acclaims: none

2016- movie: 13 going on 30, role: jenna rink, age: 27, awards & acclaims: people's choice award + teen choice award

2018- movie: bridesmaids, role: annie walker, age: 30, awards & acclaims: none

2019- movie: miss congeniality, role: gracie hart, age: 31, awards & acclaims: teen choice award

2019- movie: wine country, role: tammy, age: 31, awards & acclaims: none

2020- movie: bridget jones diary, role: bridget jones, age: 32, awards & acclaims: none

2021- movie: pretty woman, role: vivian, age: 32, awards & acclaims: golden globe for best actress,

#hillzhqsintro #nadiasakarya

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useragarfield · 3 years

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Wade drives me crazy.

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randoimago · 3 years

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Hello, can I please requests some funny headcanons for Theresa(fable), Linhardt(Fe3h), and Edgeworth(Ace Attorney) with an S/O who's clutzy and a bit dull?

Smart and elegant X dumb and clumsy is my favorite pairing for fluff.

Smart Yet Dumb S/O

Fandom: Ace Attorney, Fable, Fire Emblem: Three Houses

Characters: Miles Edgeworth, Theresa, Linhardt

Type of Request: Headcanons

Notes: S/O is just the epitome of the, “I haven’t a clue what’s going on here. But I’ll act like I do!” meme.

Ace Attorney

Edgeworth

Let’s out a sigh the moment he hears clanking in the distance. He knows it’s you bumping into things.

He takes that as his que to move as much as he can to make a feeble attempt to prevent you from breaking something.

It’s always interesting when he is talking to someone and you’re with him. Especially if he’s having a debate over the legal system.

It looks like you’re able to follow along but then you make a comment that causes him to pause.

He cares for you a lot, but sometimes he wonders how you’ve made it this far. Although, he can say that he’s glad to have you around so you can decipher whatever the heck Larry tries to say.

Fire Emblem

Linhardt

His room is a mess with books all over the place. He tries to clean up a bit by making stacks rather than just piles, but then you come in and all his hard work goes to waste. Books are all over his floor again.

Definitely keeps an eye on you when you walk into a room just because he wants to see if there’s some reason he can detect for why you’re a klutz.

Then you trip over air and he just sighs. That’s what he gets for trying to find a logical reason for things.

Doesn’t even try to explain his Crest research to you. He mentioned it once and you looked like you didn’t retain any of the information so he just chuckled and gave you a pat on the head.

Sometimes he finds amusement in the situations you end up in, but other times he is just exasperated with the trouble you get yourself into. Might just keep you on a child leash one of these days.

Fable

Theresa

Theresa has heard the commotion that follows you, or perhaps that you lead, when you enter rooms. She can’t see the clanging of metal, but knows it’s you.

Does give out little calls of what to watch out for, as if that’d help you. If anything, it causes you to run into them easier.

She finds some amusement in it as this is a characteristic that is so uniquely you.

She does her best to talk to you and phrase things in a simplistic way for you to keep up, but sometimes it’s more interesting to just be intricate with her explanations and listen if you try to act like you know what’s going on.

Just lets out a chuckle when she listens to you trying to repeat what she just said, before she finds a better way to phrase it for you. It’s rather adorable to hear you sound like a child when you finally understand.

#fe3h #fe3h x reader #fire emblem three houses x reader #fable #fable x reader #ace attorney #ace attorney x reader #miles edgeworth #miles edgeworth x reader #edgeworth x reader #edgeworth #theresa #theresa x reader #linhardt x reader #linhardt

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ailuro-mania · 3 years

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Always

Hey! I wrote another thing. This is a lot shorter than intended. I'm very bad at focusing on writing. But I really liked this whole idea, and my girlfriend really did too. So I had to write it, naturally. Can also read here --- It was a bad day. Or at least, under Inuyasha’s opinion it was. Kagome was leaving the village with Sango together, alone, with next to know protection aside from their sass. Never mind Sango being a badass demon slayer, or Kagome’s ability to purify evil within seconds, she was leaving him behind. Him and Moroha. Their daughter who was barely pushing 6 months.

“You can’t leave,” he simply stated, eyeing his wife though his face did not turn to meet hers.

“I most certainly can,” the miko commented right back. She was folding some clothes she’d recently unclipped from their drying line directly into a wicker basket they acquired last season. Kagome actually seemed to enjoy doing such mundane tasks Inuyasha couldn’t even fathom about.

He scoffed, tucking his arms into each sleeve. A sneer settled across his lips when he finally turned to look at her with all the confidence in the world. Oh, this will win the argument. “And what about Moroha?” he didn’t even bother trying to hide the smirk.

Kagome tiled her head, a strand of her tresses swishing into her face, “What about Moroha? You’ll be watching her.”

Inuyasha’s eyes widened, “Wh- what? Me? Watching Moroha?”

“Yes, you.” Kagome leaned down to heave the basket up onto her hip before a blur of red approached her side and took the basket into his own clawed hands. She faltered a solid second, a smile playing at her lips though she hid it within seconds, not daring to give him the satisfaction during a debate. “You’ll be fine. And aside from that, you haven’t so much as spent an hour alone with our daughter.”

Inuyasha’s upper lip twitched a tad, “How am I supposed to spend an hour alone with her when you’re dying to hold her at every moment? Besides, can’t Kaede watch her and I go with you? You haven’t left once since Moroha was born. And I’m not... I don’t like the idea of you leaving. Not yet.”

The miko smiled, tucking the hair that played in the wind behind her ears. Her Inuyasha, only in these moments is she blessed with such honesty. It was delectable.

“It’s only the next village over. I should be back before the sun even sets,” she felt his tension even before the words filtered out. “I will be back before the sun sets.”

Inuyasha pressed his lips together and set the basket down at the front entry of their hut, an ear turned to listen inside, the other focused on her. Their little one was fast asleep. Moroha always seemed to sleep an hour into sunrise, and the young parents were not ones to change that. She was up all night, Kagome and Inuyasha finding their alone time well within the meek hours of the morning. They loved every moment with their girl, but it was so much easier to just be alone at times.

“You’ll be fine. Sango will be with me for extra protection though she honestly isn’t even terribly needed,” She gingerly reached up to cup his cheek within the palm of her hand.

Inuyasha subconsciously leaned into her touch, golden eyes gazing directly into chocolate brown. His hair engulfed her wrist in a bracelet of silver whilst the breeze continued to dance through every strand. “I still don’t like it.”

“I know,” she leaned up on her toes to press her lips against his in a passionate pursuit only to be moments away to hear their daughter, on cue, wailing.

Though the interruption, the miko couldn’t help but smile. She leaned that smile into a quick peck on her husband's lips before turning on her heel and headed straight into their hut.

“Well, hello little one,” she chirped, heading directly toward the bundle of attention seeking that was their daughter. She scooped Moroha up into her arms in one swift movement. The little girl let out a loud squeal of delight as she always did seeing her mother. Little hands turned into fists as the young one reached out toward Kagome’s cheeks. Kagome complied by putting her face directly into the path of her daughters, letting her pat her down.

Inuyasha all but watched, his heart full of emotion for the most important people in his life. He watched as his wife smoothed out their daughter's bed head and smothered their happy girl in kisses, he watched as she wiped the bit of drool at the corner of Moroha’s lips. He wished he could watch every moment of this, possibly even freeze it. As selfish as it sounded, he didn’t want things to change. And he most certainly did not want his wife leaving the area where he couldn’t watch her, not with their pup this young.

He made a grunting noise, catching both his girl's attention. Moroha offered an extremely gummy grin toward her father and reached her arms out in his direction next. It was his turn to get mauled by the beast. Kagome sauntered over, arms stretched out, Moroha at hand. He made a face at the miko as he gently took her into his arms next.

Kagome stood up on her tippy toes once again to kiss their daughter's cheek and playfully ruffle Inuyasha’s hair, much to his distaste. The next move she made was toward her bow and arrows she’d been practicing with fairly frequently since the birth of Moroha.

“What if she gets hungry?” He continued, holding their pup against his right side. The little one had taken to playing with his hair, strands of the silver already covered in drool. “She needs you if she gets hungry.”

A soft laugh escaped through Kagome’s lips as she shook her head, “No, she’s already started to wean. We’re balancing, and today can be a day in which she stays off me. As much as I adore her, she can be... well...” the miko just shook her head, sparing her husband that bit of information he’d probably never shake. “You can take her down to Miroku’s for lunch.”

He raised a brow, “Breakfast?”

“Already mashed some solid foods this morning. You watched me do it,” Kagome slung the bow around her shoulder, her quiver stead strong on the other side.

“Kagome, really. I don’t know about this. I really don’t thin-”

“You don’t know about what, Inuyasha? Watching our child?” Her hands were at her hips. Fuck. He’d treaded into a battlefield.

“No! I- well-”

“I carried her for nine solid months,” she took two steps forward, Inuyasha taking one back. “In my own body. I carried her daily afterward and have been with her for another 6 months after. Inuyasha, I just ask of you, just this once, ple-”

“Alright, woman!” His brows pulled together, straightening back up. “I’ll watch her today. I’ll watch her any day so long as you promise to keep safe, to come back.”

Yet another smile grew across such soft pink lips. “Always.”

A familiar voice carried over to their hut. Sango, calling for Kagome. Inuyasha glanced toward the door. The moment Kagome started forward he’d gently caught her wrist with one hand, pulling her back into his available arm, Moroha still balanced in the other content with his hair. He placed a lasting kiss against Kagome’s lips, a small noise of relish slipping from her. They lasted for another few seconds before both their mutual friend knocked at the side of their door, eyebrows quirked.

“You sure you want to go still?” Sango asked, a teasing smile displayed.

Kagome rolled her eyes, “I’m coming.” She turned to kiss her daughter once more, squeezing Inuyasha’s hand. “Always,” she repeated one last time, a bit of emphasis laced through the word.

He pursed his lip once her back was turned. “You watch out for her, Sango.”

It was Sango’s turn to roll her eyes, “We’re mothers, Inuyasha. If anything, we’re the most threatening things on this side of the region.”

He’d watch as they walked away, ignoring every instinct telling him to follow after. Sango was right. Their group protected one another. They’d kill for each other, or each other's family. Kagome was in good hands and he knew it well, he knew she could easily take care of herself. Though he faintly missed his clutzy crush, she’d turn into a graceful, powerful miko, and a mother. A mother of his child, something he’d never even dreamed of becoming a possibility in his cruel reality.

And just as he begun to feel himself sink into such deep emotions; his daughter immediately pulled him out with a fit of wailing. “Fuck.”

-------

The silver haired half-demon found himself at the monk's house fairly quickly. Moroha gave him an impossible try for food the moment Kagome’s scent was out of reach for both of them. She was entirely different without her mother as he begun to realize. She pushed every attempt of food away and kicked. His patience was thin to begin with, but with his daughter it stretched further than the horizon. He needed to be able to do this. So, he found himself here, surrounded by 3 human children and an extremely enthusiastic and well-sought monk.

“So,” Miroku smirked, “came to me for child advice after all?”

Inuyasha scoffed and gave him one of his famous glares, “I think your children could give better advice than you could. Sango does most of the childcare and we both know it.”

“Touche.” Miroku and him both sat at a table within their larger hut. After Kagome’s disappearance, Sango and Miroku’s life went on. Not that Inuyasha could be upset about such a thing. He was happy to see them happy, to see their wishes coming true. Though he’d sulk, he still enjoyed watching as Miroku changed from less of a lecher to more of a father. He still had his moments though; moments Sango still seeks revenge on.

Their hut was larger, but only because they planned such a large family that they may have overcompensated. But who knew, they still had many years to go, perhaps more were well within the near future.

The children ran about the front of the hut, weaving between the door and front yard. A gate was spread across the face of their house which gated the young ones in. The twins were pushing four, Hisui almost two. Hisui was placed at the feet of the monk playing with some sort of rattle that rung in the half-demons' ears. Moroha was pressed well against his chest, leaking from her nose from an earlier sob.

As soon as he’d walked up the twins were at his feet, clinging on for dear life as their favourite uncle carried them with ease. Miroku didn’t even so much as bother to tell them to stop, he knew Inuyasha secretly loved his daughter's trust. Moroha went from crying to fascination so fast it nearly gave Inuyasha whip-lash. Kin’u and Gyokuto both bouncing about, their heads hardly tall enough to reach up to his knee. “Ooo, Moroha!” Kin’u called out. She’d made a silly attempt at pressing each palm of her hand against either side of her face directing the expression toward Moroha. The little girl within Inuyasha’s arms letting out a laugh that rung through his ears, but mostly shook his heart. “Can we play with her, pleeeease?” Gyokuto begged, dragging the word out until her little lungs were airless. Inuyasha pressed his lips together in silent contemplation. Had Kagome let them play with their girl? Surely, she had... Moroha seemed thrilled about it. “Alright. But only inside the hut, where I can see.” Both the twins hooted, reaching up for his treasured daughter. The half-demon complied, prying his daughter far too easily from his chest to the twin's enthusiastic arms. The little snake, of course she’d abandoned him for two loudmouth girls. He watched silently as they each took a hand of his daughters and teetered Moroha up on her feet, walking her over toward their play corner surrounded by childrens toys. Miroku let out a whistle, Inuyasha’s head jerking toward it, “What?” “Kagome’s never let them play with her,” he said, smug. “She hardly lets Moroha out of her arms when you’re all here.” Inuyasha’s eyes widened slightly. “What? You hadn’t noticed?” The purple in his eye glinted. Surprisingly, Inuyasha never wanted to punch anyone more than his best friend. Even Naraku was less-punchable. He snorted and put his nose up in the air, “Of course I noticed.” Emphasis on ‘noticed’. “I can just watch out for them better with my keen senses. Besides, Kagome left me in charge. We’re doing things differently.” “Uhhuh...” Miroku nodded, eyebrows raised. “Well, in that case. What are we having for lunch O Great Leader?” He’d made it a dramatic to put his hands out in front of himself, arms pushed in Inuyasha’s direction for exaggeration. “You’re the one who's supposed to be in charge of that, lecher.” “Harsh,” Miroku pulled his hands back in to cover his heart, “I was. Up until recent development. I’d love to see you take charge during the high sun over four children and your favourite friend.” The smirk planted on the monk's lips worsened the half-demons want, no, need to punch him. “Also, your kid is shoving a toy up her nose.” He nodded his head toward the three children in the corner while snagging his son off the ground. Inuyasha immediately stood up and walked over to the three girls, the twins trying to pry Moroha’s hands away from her nose. The youngest girls grip being far too strong for two humans, even if she’d only developed half of her father's half-blood. “Moroha!”

------

A few hours later Inuyasha found himself alone with his daughter in the confines of their hut. Moroha had been set down at the top of the hut’s layout, far from the ledge in which he’d tried to baby proof since her crawling development that started only within a few months of her birth. The girl felt as though she was aging rapidly, something that worried the parents but neither seemed to want to address. She looked her age, but the mentality and ability were maturing at an alarming rate. There was much to learn about this girl they’d created together. He’d gotten up to start building a fire. Though fall had just started to show itself, he knew his wife got chilled almost any night of any season. It was inevitable, her cold feet would constantly press against his warm calves during the darkest hours in search of warmth. He complained, but secretly it was his on his list of Top Things Kagome Did. Right next to plucking his ears before leaving for her daily duties. Nightfall was still an hour or so away. Inuyasha’s patience warring thinner. No sign of his wife’s scent had entered the permitter, and he’d sniffed the air several times. Much like what his daughter had started to do right that second. He begun to sniff just as fast, finding nothing but the scent of left-over stew balanced above the firepit. He cocked a brow and walked toward his kid, “Hungry?” The little one stopped sniffing the air momentarily, big brown eyes rimmed with stunning lashes turned and focused on him. Something akin to a growl rumbled at the base of her throat and up. Inuyasha blinked a few times, taken back. “Did you... Did you just growl at me?” Moroha repeated her adorable threat, taking a small bundled up fist move toward her father. Inuyasha sat on his arse a few feet away, still stunned by his daughter's animalistic nature. Sure, sniffing the air was one thing, but to growl? Moroha was fast, trudging directly for Inuyasha’s lap. Once she reached him she put both hands on the foot that prodded out from under him. Inuyasha leaned forward so his face was directly in front of hers, letting out a growl far more ferocious than his daughter's cute attempt. To his surprise, she giggled! She let out a loud, stomach deep laugh that made Inuyasha’s lips tug upward in the most genuine smile. The laugh stopped abruptly and she growled again. Inuyasha growling right back. And the laugh returning even louder. But then she started to push herself up using his foot. His daughter stood up in front of him at a mere 6 months old, her chin held high and her tiny clawed hands caught in his not so tiny clawed hands. “Hey, kid. Don’t you be doing that. Not yet. Your mother will kill me if you walk when she's not around.” He plucked the girl up from off her feet, folding his legs in front of himself so his knees touched in the air and placed Moroha in his lap, her back and head rested well against his thighs. She smiled all the while, bright brown eyes staring up at her hero. “You think this is a joke? She really will kill me. You have no idea how scary she is. But you will, eventually. You have my blood, you’re gon’ be a lotta work.” Moroha’s tiny fist wrapped around her father’s fingers, staring up at him in awe as he spoke. “You’re gonna learn a lot of things. And I’m sorry for most of them. You’re gonna learn how this world... is harsh. How you and I are different from the rest, and even your mother. How our group is needed, yet so judged outside of this village. You’re gonna learn how to use these claws,” He’d lifted one index finger up, studying his daughters' hand, “how they can really hurt someone if you’re not careful. But I know you will be. I know you’re gonna be a damn good girl. You may have obtained some of my traits, but your mother's blood runs within those veins of yours too. And she's the best human to walk this dammed earth.” He watched as his daughter's eyes fluttered shut. She was tired, probably exhausted from the twins earlier. He leaned forward to kiss his daughter's forehead, ears turned forward to listen intently to the small but even breathing. Inuyasha waited a few minutes more before deciding she was out enough to move. He gently lifted her within his arms and walked her over toward her dedicated matt that had a few inches more around the surrounding area to keep her from rolling out. Though with this new standing thing she’d shown off, they may have to come up with a new plan. After settling her into bed, he’d turned his head toward the doormat. The sun was just nearing itself from hiding away and his wife was just now approaching. Soft thuds planting into the ground that normal human ears would not pick up. He’d wait by the threshold but refused to meet her out there no matter the excitement. He was still petty, of course. Kagome came trudging in, bow and quiver held over one shoulder, her sandals in the other. She’d ran barefoot. “I’m ba-” Inuyasha’s hand went right over her mouth before she could finish her shout, pointing toward their sleeping daughter. Kagome smiled sheepishly, prying his hand away, “I’m back,” she whispered. Inuyasha rolled his eyes, “I see that, idiot.” Kagome pretended to be hurt, smacking his shoulder with no real threat held in the hit. He smirked and leaned forward, taking her into an awaited kiss. Kagome smiled into it, dropping both her items to the ground so she could wrap her arms around his neck, her entire being pressed and hanging off of him. Inuyasha’s arms instinctively wrapped around his miko’s waist to hold her nearby. She pulled away with the same smile, “miss me?” Inuyasha’s eyebrows knitted, “Not at all.” The miko’s eyes narrowed, still extremely close to his face. “Oh yeah?” her arms went from draped around his shoulders, down toward the base of his shoulders. He couldn’t help but let out a quiet snicker, “Yeah.” “Hm...” His wife made a soft noise at the back of her throat, one corner of her lip tugged up. She pulled her arms in all the way and begun to try and escape his grasp, to which he responded by lifting her up entirely, Kagome letting out a hardly suppressed yet joyous laugh, “Inuyasha!” He smirked again, still holding her well up in the air, “What are you gonna do about it, woman?” Kagome continued to laugh as she hardly put in any effort to move, “Put me down, I’m gonna pee,” she laughed out. Inuyasha scoffed and set her down, “Ew.” Kagome rolled her eyes and leaned up again to peck him on the lips, “Hey. You wanted to marry this ‘ew’.” Inuyasha shrugged, “It has its perks.” A soft coo came from behind him, “I knew it was too good to be true. She’d never sleep through your arrival.” “Unlike you, some people like me,” Kagome smiled playfully and shouldered past him toward their fully awake daughter. “Hello, my girl!” The miko bent down to scoop her up and pull her into her chest. And Inuyasha watched yet another moment he wished he could freeze. This was it. This was his always. He’d protect them at any cost. His girls.

#Inuyasha #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #lid writes #yashahime #moroha #kagome #kagome higurashi #inukag #inuyasha x kagome #inu x kagome #go gogo read #soft shit

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

the manliest man

— Hoodies and playlists, a simple and effective way to capture your heart. —

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pairing: kirishima eijirou x reader

warnings: cursing, fluff

word count: 3,805

a/n: I had like a sudden kirishima fluff mood, and this was transpired. it was so weird because I typically dont get character moods for anyone who isn’t shouto, anyways enjoy my rewritten story because i did not save it HA

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“Take your sweater, dumbass, you’ll get cold at night!”

The second those words left Bakugou’s lips, you knew that he was right, but you were never one to follow directions. Especially Bakugou’s instructions.

Today had been disgustingly hot.

You were wearing your shortest pair of shorts and a tank top that was practically see-through due to your sweat and the ocean water. After all, there was nothing like spending the hottest day at the beach with your closest friends.

But like most hot summer days, once the sun began to set upon the horizon, the crystal blue waters fading from their crisp blue to emeralds and purples, and the sky becoming a rainbow of warm deep colors, did it begin to cool off. It was a gentle chill at first, a small tickle on your skin that you had believed to be just the effect of no longer having the blazing sun beating down on your skin. But it grew stronger.

Soon after the night sky had turn black, the only source of light coming from the firepit before you, and its illuminations against Kirishima’s brightly smiling face did you notice that your skin had turned numb with the cold. As a side effect of your quirk, your hands were always warm, but against your frozen skin, you yelped.

Kaminari, who had been in the midst of a winning argument against Bakugou solely because his ignorance was outpacing Bakugou’s irritation, stopped and looked at you. Your face began to heat up when all of your friends turned to look at you too. Sero, who never seemed to grow cold, smirked at you with his dumb short-sleeved sweater. Bakugou, who was wearing too many layers despite the summer night, frowned at you. Mina’s lips spread into a grin, her eyes shifting over quickly between you and… you couldn’t tell, but she had a mischievous look in her eyes.

“Are you cold?”

Kirishima’s voice was curious and concerned at your side. Daring to look over at the redhead who was sitting on the same log as you, your cheeks heat up more in your embarrassment. Kirishima had been another person who Bakugou had yelled at earlier to bring a jacket for the night time, as he often got cold too. Bakugou had cursed the two of you like some angry parent, swearing that if either one of you got cold that night, he wasn’t going to share any of the jackets he brought for himself. Together, you and your friend stuck out your tongue at the angry Pomeranian and skipped off to the van in merry joy. However, unlike how you were currently out of a jacket, Kirishima had a two-second conversation with Mina before eventually returning to the van with a hoodie.

So instead of two cold idiots, there was only one.

“N-No,” you stammer, your gaze dropping from his concerned red ones. “I just thought of something scary.”

“Oh, yeah?” Bakugou sneers, obviously taking his frustration of not being able to beat Kaminari in this senseless argument to beat you in your denial. “What’s so damn scary, dumbass?”

Your mouth screws up into a pout, you didn’t like to lose to Bakugou Katsuki, and at times like this, it showed.

For the next twenty minutes, the two of you would fire insults and debate at each other, the potent words holding no weight as the two of you held small grins on your face. But it was all for naught, the moment after you managed to get in a closing insult, the roaring laughter of your friends heavy in your ears, did a shiver run down your spine.

Fuck, it was so cold.

“SEE, DAMN IDIOT, YOU ARE COLD!” Bakugou roared.

You pouted, your arms folding around you, the need for warmth growing.

But you were surprised to feel something warm fall on your lap. Your eyes peered down to see the red hoodie that belonged to Kirishima, and you focused your attention on the red-haired boy who was pulling his orange shirt further down his stomach.

Kirishima looked up, meeting your gaze once again, and he smiled gently.

“I’m not that cold, you can wear my sweater for now.”

“No!” you shake your head, trying to return the warm fabric back to Kirishima. “I’m the one that didn’t bring a sweater, I can’t take yours!”

You place the sweater on his lap.

Kirishima throws his hands up, skillfully avoiding the clothing back from you, “It’s not manly if I let you grow cold!”

He puts the sweater back on your lap.

“Kiri, please, it’s not manly if I let you get sick!”

It’s back on his lap.

“It’s summer, I promise I won’t get sick!”

And it’s on yours.

You shake your head, you were practically on Kirishima’s leg, shoving the red hoodie into his chest. “I’ll steal one of Bakugou’s!”

“Like hell you are,” Bakugou snaps, his eyes narrowing in on you, daring you to try.

You stuck out your tongue at Bakugou but decided to keep your attention on the man before you. “I can’t just take your hoodie.”

“Well, we can’t share it.”

You thought about how the hoodie was practically form-fitting on your friend, and in your memory, you can see how the fabric was taut around his muscle, highlighting the divets in his arms, the bulges in his arms, and the muscles on his chest. You blinked rapidly at that thought, did you just—?

“Hey, are you okay, y/l/n?” Kirishima asks, his fingers brushing against your shoulder.

Your shoulders were bare due to the tank top you wore, and you felt the sheer warmth of his calloused hands. His fingers pressing against your skin sent shooting warmth into your bones, and the next thing you knew, you were tumbling off the log onto the sand.

“Y/N!” They all shouted while you stumbled back onto your feet, the sand falling off your body while you squeaked out apologies.

“Put on the sweater, y/n,” Mina shouted while you were in the middle of a made-up explanation as to why you tumbled onto the floor like some clutzy child and not the Pro Hero you were.

“Yeah, of c-course,” you say, yanking the red hoodie over your head while you continue your conversation. Your actions don’t entirely hit you until the heavy fabric hangs loosely around you, so unlike the tight fit against Kirishima. It never really hit you how much smaller you were than Kirishima until then.

But the conversation had moved, and they were no longer focused on the way that you were standing there. Warmth finally settling into your skin, but you weren’t quite ready to sit down. The lingering scent of Kirishima lay within the confinements of his sweater.

It was a clean scent, mixed with the tiniest whiff of floral and a muted spice. It invaded your senses slowly, and you swore you found yourself with your eyes closed, nose buried into the sweater, needing more.

“Y/n?” A soft voice called for you, and you whipped around to see Kirishima sliding down onto the sand, his legs separated. An embarrassed blush sat on his face, and you willed your entire power not to stare at his arms that were not concealed with the muscle shirt he wore.

“Yeah?” You answer stupidly with your eyes wide.

“Do you mind, um, sitting here?” he asked, patting the space between his legs. “I have a feeling we won’t be leaving anytime soon, and I do get cold… if you don’t want to, I totally get it—!”

“You didn’t need to ask,” you interrupt Kirishima before he could start rambling, and you watched the red head’s face burst into a broad smile.

“Okay!”

The rest of the night, you stay wrapped in between Kirishima’s arms and legs, your head resting against his chest in your comfortable warmth. You would never understand the mystery behind how this man could get cold. He threw off so much body heat; it was almost a crime that he did get so cold. Wrapped in his sweater and leaning against his body made you extremely warm, not to mention that as time passed, his arms were now secured around your waist. While you had always known that he was muscular — his hero costume had never been modest in that regard — it was a whole new awakening when you could feel it pressed against you.

But as all things in life do, the time at the beach ended.

You held onto the wet towels, walking side by side with Kirishima all the way to the car.

“I’ve missed hanging out with you,” Kirishima spoke out of the blue, the stillness of the night broken by those words.

It had been two years since you had graduated from U.A., and to say the least, you had truly missed your old friend group. No one in your class had gone to the same hero agency, well besides Bakugou and Midoriya, which no one would have seen coming for the longest of time. While Kirishima was finally going solo from the FatGum agency, you were doing the same from Edgeshot’s agency. The two of you had also learned that you were residing within the same apartment building as well last year.

So of your old friend group, you saw Kirishima the most, but still, you missed the days where you would be up until the brink of dawn with your friends. Especially since most runs in’s with Kirishima involved one of you smelling like blood and grime and overall not ready for human interaction.

“We really do suck, huh?” you respond, dumping the towels into the trunk of the van. “We need to hang out more, but this hero life is a lot more time consuming than I ever gave it credit for.”

He nods his head in agreement, closing the trunk once you step back.

“When else are you free this week? Or when is your lunch break?”

You smiled, looking over at your friend over your shoulder while making your way into the van.

“I always get Thursday’s off, and I take my lunch at two.”

You didn’t see the way that Kaminari clapped Kirishima’s back in a small victory while you climbed to the end of the van. You had opted to take the seat in the back.

Bakugou had insisted that no one was allowed to sit next to him when he drove, as last time it happened, Kirishima was in front and well… long story short: the car was nearly forced off a cliff.

So an official ‘Bakugou-hangs-out-with-his-friends’ rule was: no one was allowed to ride shotgun with him driving. Bakugou was also the official driver in the friend group, so that meant that he was always in the front alone.

Consequentially that meant that Sero, Kaminari, and Kirishima would take the middle row, and you and Mina were in the back.

“Kiri, go in the back with y/n!” Mina shouted, shoving the large man in behind you.

Having already been seated comfortably, you smiled up at the dark shadows that illuminated on Kirishima’s face. You watched the comfortable grin stretch across his face when he sat next to you. To be honest, you couldn’t remember much of the ride back, only that Bakugou had blasted his classical music to destress for keeping him up so late at night.

All you knew is that at some point, you had pressed up into Kirishima’s side, his arm draping around your shoulder, holding you gently to him. His chest hummed with his laughter while he and Kaminari continued to pester Bakugou, and you saw Sero and Mina out cold.

In the warmth of it all, the comfort of being pressed into Kirishima’s side and the soft warmth of his sweater, his scent, and the car, you dozed off.

“Hey, y/n, wake up...”

Your eyes slowly blinked open, the light of the van was on, illuminating softly onto your face. Clattering noises of Mina, Sero, and Kaminari, making it evident that you were now back at the parking lot of your apartment complex. You and Kirishima had lived the closest to the beach, so everyone had met up at your complex.

Your hand was fisted into Kirishima’s shirt, and that’s all you needed to tear away from him, a squeak muffled by his hoodie sleeve.

“Sorry,” you mutter while his lips quirk into a gentle smile.

“It’s all good! It was actually very comfortable.”

“Would you both get the fuck out of the car and help out?! I’m fucking tired...”

Grinning at Kirishima, you exited the car after Kirishima.

Going around, you hugged your friends' goodbye, laughing loudly when Bakugou tried to act like he didn’t enjoy having a hug. Finally, you reached Mina, who threw her arms around you like it was nothing, and she brought her lips to your ear.

“You and Ei are looking pretty damn comfy back there.”

Rolling your eyes, you pinched your best friend on the side, ignoring your beating heart.

“How would you know, you were knocked out?!”

“I have my ways, sweetheart, goodnight!!! Have some fun tonight!”

“It’s one in the morning, I’m taking a shower and having a fun sleep,” you sass. Mina scrunches her nose and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“NIGHT!!! Ei, get her inside safely for me!”

“You know, I will!” Kirishima calls from where he stands. It seems that he is in the middle of some slugfest with the boys, although you’re not sure who is hitting who.

It takes about five minutes more of verbal banter before everyone finally climbs into their cars and leaves. Waving goodbye until you could no longer, Kirishima opens the front door, letting you in first.

“I’ll walk you to your door,” Kirishima states, hitting your floor level on the elevator but not his own.

“You don’t have to do that,” you yawn, pressing your hand to your mouth to stifle the loud noise from your mouth. “Go to your place!”

As you reached to press his floor button on the elevator, he batted your hand to the side. Your eyes widened while you retract your hand.

“Jerk!”

The rest of the elevator ride consisted of you trying to press Kirishima’s floor level, but he managed to keep you away. It wasn’t until the elevator door slide open did he throw you over his shoulder and walked off towards your apartment despite your pleading. Your stomach pressed into his shoulder a bit uncomfortably, but you figured it was just his stupidly buff shoulder.

Placing you back on the floor, you huffed slightly, your arms folding while Kirishima grins down at you.

“I could’ve made it back by myself just fine,” you insist, your arms folding in front of your chest. But you don’t miss the way that his eyes drag down your body, a smile soft on his face, undisturbed, relaxed.

“I know you could’ve,” he whispers, his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes widen at the feeling of his calloused fingers against your cheek. He truly amazed you, how someone who took the mass brunt of the most significant attacks in their hero career could still be scarless beside the small one by his eye was beyond you. “Goodnight, y/n.”

He presses a small kiss to your cheek, and your face flares into a fire pit.

“Goodnight, Ei,” you murmur, feeling disheartened when you push him away.

He watches you walk into your apartment, and all you can see is his red eyes staying on you until the door is closed behind you. Despite the late hour of the night, you sank to the ground no longer able to contain the slight squeal in your voice.

Years of having a slight crush on the red head man had been forgotten over your new life as a hero, but in a single night, those darkening embers had returned in blazing glory. Pressing your head to the door, you realized that you were still wearing Kirishima’s sweater.

Cursing, you rose to your feet, throwing open the door in hopes that he was still in the hallway.

He wasn’t.

Sighing, you closed the door. You could bring it to him tomorrow, it would give you another excuse to visit the smiling man tomorrow. Sliding your hands into the pocket, your fingers brushing against something cold and hard.

Frowning, you pulled out an iPod.

Your eyebrows furrowed, but it soon melted into a warm smile. Of course, Kirishima would still have an iPod, he was a man of… refined taste, after all.

Thinking back to your days at U.A., you tried to remember what music he was into. But besides a very, very fuzzy memory of the song he had used to try out for the class band’s performance during the culture festival, he was never one to control the music.

Harmlessly, your finger pressed the center button, a small smile spreading on your face at the memory of your own iPod from a long time ago. Once the apple logo faded to the home screen, you slide down to the songs. But you had overshot it, and with your fingers used to the touchscreen technology you had, you accidentally entered his playlists.

Groaning to yourself, you walked into your bathroom, peeling off his sweatshirt while you took out your toothbrush.

There were only three playlists.

Workout.

Patrol.

Y/n.

Your eyes widened.

Was that your name?

That couldn’t be you, right? You tracked your memory in an attempt to remember any other y/n’s that Kirishima could possibly know in his life, and to your thrill of your already pounding heart, there were none. Taking in a shaky breath, you hoped there was no intrusion when you selected your name.

Now you were not a music fanatic. You knew your famous songs and every weird song that Mina enjoyed to dance to, but besides that, you were not educated in music, still there was no stopping your shocked glee when you began to play his playlist.

best part by HER

How would you feel by Ed Sheeran

Mystery of love by sufjan Stevens

Old fashioned by Bruno major

Please notice by Christian leave

Cheek to cheek by Frank Astaire

Please notice by Christian Akridge

Paper Rings by Taylor Swift

Adore You by harry styles

Better Man by 5SOS

To Be So Lonely by Harry Styles

Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift

Work Song by Hozier

Strong by One Direction

beautiful by Bazzi

Strawberry Blonde by Mitski

Dance With Me by beabadoobee

One Sweet Day by boyz II men

Can’t Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley

Softly by clairo

Nobody like you by Little Mix

Yellow by Coldplay

CORDUROY DREAMS BY REX ORANGE COUNTY

Lo Que Siento by Cuco

Still Together by Mac DeMarco

Distance by Emily King

Flirting in Space by Brad Stank

Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop by Landon Pigg

Someone To You by Banners She by Dodie

Cherry Wine by Hozier

Let’s Fall in Love for The Night by FINNEAS

Song after song played, the words of every song playing from the small device and into your ear. The words, the intention, of every single lyric swelled your chest, making your head spin while you lay in your bed.

Kirishima Eijirou… liked you too?

It was soon four in the morning by the time you had gotten through every song, but you were nowhere near sleepy anymore. Grasping the iPod in your hand, you pushed up off your bed and ran out the door.

There was nothing that could stop you, you had taken the staircase instead of the elevator, climbing four flights of stairs until you crashed through the door. Your heart was in your throat when you pounded on his door, your breathing sharp and shallow. Although you had no idea whether it was from running to his apartment in less than a minute, or because this emotional overload you were experiencing.

He liked you.

“Wha— y/n? Are you okay? It’s four a.m. is something… is something wrong? Is it a spider again?” Kirishima yawned deeply when the front door opened.

He looked at you, sleep heavy on his eyes, but there was that alertness and concern that even sleepiness couldn’t contain.

“I saw your playlist for me,” you breathe, staring up at him, your eyes wide.

“Y-You wh-what?!” Kirishima squeaked, his cheeks turning redder than his hair, his eyes now gone of tiredness, but now worry and embarrassment.

“I listened to it,” you say, a shiver running down your spine.

The adrenaline of this revelation had left your body, and with you standing in the highly air-conditioned hallway wearing a tank top and shorts. The two of you stared at each other while Kirishima seemed to gulp thickly, his eyes flickering from random points around you when he settled.

“Fuck,” he hissed his hair raking through his unstyled hair. “You weren’t supposed to see that…”

“Why?” you question, a pit forming in your stomach, did you read into this wrongly? Maybe he no longer liked you?

“I was supposed to ask you out on a date first,” Kirishima admitted, his shoulders sagging a bit. “I’m not… I wasn’t manly enough to confess to you without help, and Mina suggested that I make a playlist of all the songs that reminded me of you! But whenever I tried to ask you out, I froze up, like a coward. I was going to try again on Thursday, actually! I’m so sorry if I put you in an uncomfortable position! O-Of course I’m not trying to assume that you like me back! If you don’t, that’s totally okay—!”

“I think you’re the manliest man I know…” you laugh, your eyes brimming with tears. “Kiss me, Eijirou,” you whisper, stepping closer to him, eyes blazing with a gentle need for the man before you.

Like a collision of color, Kirishima’s mouth slammed against yours, and your heart soared when his warm body pressed against yours. He brought you in like bright colors, capturing your attention, commanding your actions, and your arms wrapped around his shoulders. In his arms, you felt safe, the gentleness felt with cooler colors, and when the door closed behind you, you could feel his mouth stretch into a grin against your mouth.

There were plenty more kisses that night, kisses that let the two of you learn and explore more about each other than words could ever attain. It would end when your body was cuddled into his side, the blankets of his bed doing nothing in comparison to his body heat. But your now tired fingers stroked his cheek, and his hand grabbed your fingers and pressed the gentlest of kisses against it.

“Goodnight...”

“Sweet dreams...”

To think that tonight had only happened because you had forgotten your sweater.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijirou #kirishima fluff #bnha x reader #bnha #mha x reader #mha

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casuallyimagining · 4 years

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hi, I love your writing! could you maybe do a Percy x reader where she’s clumsy and bad at fighting but he finds it adorable so he tries to teach her? if not that’s fine, and thank you! :)

Hi! First of all, thanks so much, that means a lot! Second, this has been sitting in my inbox for a couple days, and I wanted to get it done before I forgot, so I made it headcanons, but if you want it as a fic, just let me know. I can try to write something up when I have a wee bit more time :)

Percy thinks your clutziness is cute, but he also recognizes that a demigod being unable to fight is a recipe for certain death, so he does his best to give you lessons outside of the ones the camp already offers.

He’s super patient with you, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get frustrated sometimes. When you trip over air, or you drop your sword in surprise for the 50th time that day, he just has to call a break. Sometimes, he thinks teaching you might be hopeless.

But then, sometimes, you surprise him. You’re surprisingly good with ranged weapons, despite not being a child of Apollo. You have reliable aim with a bow, and really, you weren’t bad with a slingshot.

Javelins and spears were a little too heavy for you, but he talks to the Hephaestus cabin and they make you a super light spear that isn’t too unwieldy, and you’re quite good with it, too.

And he teaches you how to use your clumsiness to your advantage. When you fall, he teaches you to sweep the leg of your opponent, or to stab from a different angle. He shows you how to recover when you’ve been surprised without dropping your weapon.

He finds that you’re surprisingly lucky, too. You drop things at just the right time to avoid getting decapitated. You stumble just in time to avoid strikes to your chest. It’s... interesting, to say the least.

You might not be the best in combat, but Percy knows that there’s almost always an advantage to being underestimated. And there’s no one he would rather fight beside. Partially so he can keep an eye on you.

Okay mostly so he can keep an eye on you.

But if you’re honest, there’s no one else you’d rather fight beside either.

#percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #hoo x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus

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princesstillyenna · 3 years

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T/W: Ableist Language, discussion of child death Dear North American Writers, Writers who write in English who do not come from the UK, and others who are interested in language.

Most of the time, we speak a common language, here in the UK, and over there “across the pond” however recently, I have seen all too frequently recently a word cropping up in the fic that I read, and it appears to be a word that is in common parlance in the USA and other English speaking countries, whereas here in the UK it is quite frankly, one of the worst slurs I know of.

I’ll be using that slur shortly, just to let you know what it is, and whilst I’ll star out the vowels in the variations I’ll use, be aware, British English speakers, I’m about to say a really upsetting word. It is a slur used to refer to disabled people, but in particular, people with cerebral palsy.

The word itself, is sp*st*c, or sp*z, or sp*zzy, and honestly, the only word I consider to be more offensive than this is the n word, and perhaps not even then, because the n word has been reclaimed for some people to use as their own, as is their right, whereas nobody, NOBODY wants to reclaim this one.

Reading it in fic makes me feel physically sick. I’m not that old, but I remember when SCOPE was still called the sp*st*c society, I remember that word being thrown at the beautiful bright girl I attended church with, who lost her life due to complications with her cerebral palsy at aged 14, this is not a ‘mild’ slur, this is a slur that to a great many people in Britain, particularly disabled people, cuts really fucking deep.

Now, I am very aware that Americans, particularly white Americans don’t have to do a lot of code switching, they don’t have to double think when they’re speaking to make sure that what they’re saying is what is meant, because honestly, the English spoken by white Americans is largely the default in this world, and the rest of us code switch so y’all can understand us, but I am begging you, in you written text… take this word out.

Here’s some words you can use instead: Clumsy, clutzy, if you’re wanting a “jokey” insult, “freak”, hockey rpf writers I encourage all use of the word “pigeon” because it’s my favourite chirp, just…. Bear in mind your British readers, and please don’t use this word.

#tilly writes #tilly thinks #tilly gets her rant on #fanfic writing

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muffintopchai · 4 years

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A description of my characters because nobody asked

I wanna describe their personalities because yes.

Lea: Smol bean who loves little kid cartoons and pastel colors. She is a huge sunbeam/ jokester who can’t stand to see people sad. Pigtail gang for life. Has depression and is abused by her mother who has most custody of her. Has a perfectionist complex because of her. Very small and thin.

Chai: Likes to put on a tough girl act, but is a huge softie and loves reading and nerdy things. Can beat you at video games, loves the classics. Has body issues for being a bit chuibbier than most of her friends that work out and do volunteering and stuff, especially compared to Lea (who is s t a r v e d by her p a r e n t s). Is my favorite character and must be protected AT ALL COSTS!!Is also a huge weeb and wants to cosplay when she’s older. :P

Cami: Leader of the bunch cuz her parents own the coffee shop they all work at. Tired TM. Has terrible insomnia and often stays up all night doing nothing because of it. Her parents are nice, hardworking people who had a kid too young and are just trying to support themselves. She always has a mug of coffee and is just That Bitch all the time.

Beatrice: The clutzy one who can’t walk right. She is that anime character that can’t for the lives of millions of people, fuckin stand on her own two feet. Always wears clothes two sizes too big because her family is very poor and her dad drinks all their money away. She started off working at the coffee shop to support her family until she was old enough to gather all her siblings and run away from their dad. Very hardworking but falls over a lot. Has a big scar over her eye that she says is a birthmark but is actually from where her dad smashed a bottle over her head during a drunken stupor. oof this one is long.

Cleo: A cute Muslim girl who lives with her uncle. Her uncle is very controlling and uses his religion as a means to keep her in line. Cleo hates being Muslim and doesn’t believe in God or Allah or whatever-the-fuck. She is super cute, but WILL cut you if you hurt her friends. She loves helping people though, and wants to start a charity when she gets older.

Harmony: A very tight-knit, studious girl with OCD. She needs to know more than everyone around her, and is constantly researching things. When people are ignorant she gets p i s s e d and might start smacking you with the power of KNOWLEDGE! She will fucking eat your face if you move anything out of its place, but is normally pretty calm, cool and collected. Has trouble with her memory though.

Leo: They are nb and have anxiety. Very prone to panic attacks and has near crippling social anxiety. Totally has a positivity tumblr and won't stop gushing about Creepshow art on YT. An aspiring animator who loves their friends and super totally has HUGE crush on Cleo. Needless to say they're my child and they are amazing and I cant believe I forgot them when first writing this post.

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thefairefolk-rp · 5 years

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Hey Lash! Your app for Aubrey Crane has been accepted!

OOC INFORMATION:

Name/Nickname: LASH

Age: 26

Preferred Pronouns: SHE/HER

Timezone: EST

Activity and Availability (Please answer in words as well as rating your availability from 1-10): 5 now and a 10 for the summer. Though my summers are busy, I have no work so activity will be much easier to meet.

IC INFORMATION:

Desired Character: Aubrey Crane

Second Choice Character: Aurelia Moor

What made you choose this character?: Aubrey is a man in a mask. He is a maestro conducting the most intricate of symphonies. Flawlessly he strings his actions together into a facade of innocence. It reminds me of the theory where JarJar Binks is really a sith. In the films he is portrayed as a clutzy bimbo, but it is the perfect disguise. Everything always falls into place for JarJar despite him being the most hilarious nitwits in the Galaxy. No one takes him seriously. Aubrey is similar in the way that he is able to show his innocence. He is the Faire version of Ted Bundy, Charismatic enough to evade detection when he is clearly the snake in the grass. No one suspects this dark, forceful gang leader to rest below his dimpled smile. He is a great actor.

I like his rags to riches story. I can see how his upbringing molded him into this unfeeling being. He wants to be liked, I think this is part of his skill set. He knows what others want to see and he plays to that expectation to a tee. He doesn’t believe in goodness. Why should he? He will end up on top if he has to step on everyone else to get there.

His lack of empathy makes him unpredictable. He would smile as he slit your throat. I like the quality in him. The fact that he is the one who will choose the way the cards are laid out. He will play the game but he is goign to stack the deck and count the cards first.

Are there any changes you would like to make?: NOPE

Questions/Comments:

Writing Sample

“I warned you.” Aubrey’s words were gentle, no more than a slight chastising one might receive from their mother. His lips curled into a smile, “I thought we had an understanding, no a trust.” He chuckled, shaking his head as he crouched on the balls of his feet. “Why would you betray my trust? It vexes me deeply.”

“Sorry sir. It won’t happen again.” Their voice quivered into the space between them. Aubrey sighed at the fear. Those who knew him this way, his minions, knew better than to force his hand. To anyone else it would look like an innocent boy chastising a child for some small crime.

Anger was best kept on a leash. Never lose your grip of the leash lest the beast hang you with it. “No? Are you telling me that you can guarantee that you will never disappoint me again?” His eyebrow raised with his dimples grin.

“Do you know how I feel about promise?” Aubrey nodded to another of his members hovering in the shadows. A single glance and they disappeared entirely. Now there were two. Aubrey and the mouse. The Mouse was caught stealing the cheese, rather Aubrey’s pocket.

“No sir.” The fae had barely a voice to speak at this point.

“They are empty words, but I know you will never disappoint me again.” Aubrey cupped the fae’s cheek and looked them in the eye with a reassuring smile. Aubrey relaxed into his position, patting the poor fae’s cheek a few times. His demeanor said it was all going to be ok. They were being given a chance. Aubrey had no intention of actually giving out chances.

“Thank you, Tha…uh.” The false sense of security fell of their lips in one shocked gasp. They grabbed at the wound while Aubrey covered their mouth with his gloved hand, “Shhh, shhh, now it will all be over soon.”

“That will be one promise never broken.” His emotionless eyes fell to the lifeless body as he ran the blade over the tattered fabric of their shirt. Beatrix will need to hear about this. As calmly as he entered, Aubrey turned on his heel and walked away with his cloak fluttering behind him.

#accepted #lsrpg

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wittystiles · 6 years

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The Agreement || Part Four || Stiles Stilinski

Author: wittystiles

Words: 3.5k+

Relationship: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Title: The One With The Dad Upgrade

Summary: (Y/N) and Stiles decide to tell the very first person that they’re having a baby.

A/N: Y’all! I was stuck on this here chapter for like, I would like to say a month. A month. For some reason I could not write this. It took sitting there and watching Teen Wolf with my Grandma to finally get inspired to write this fic. It came together in like, 2 hours, and it’s ight. I hope you like it! Thank you for waiting so long. (-: ALSO! Huge fucking shoutout to my girl @ellie-bee242 for literally writing (typing a few paragraphs of it while i said what I wanted it to say) it for me. And editing it. You’re the MVP.

(Y/N) stood beside Stiles at the grocery store, looking over his shoulder at the grocery list. “Do we really want to make asparagus?” She asked, looking from the list to the vegetables on display.

“Yes,” Stiles sighed. “Have you ever had my grilled asparagus? It’s heavenly. And it’s healthy, would you stop being anti-vegetable?”

(Y/N) groaned, “I’m not anti-vegetable, Stiles. I just don’t particularly want asparagus. It’s not a bad thing, and I’m not discrediting you as a chef. It’s just not my favorite.”

“Then don’t eat it.” He shrugged, grabbing two small bags of asparagus. “Lydia, Scott, Malia and my dad all love it so. We have to do it.”

(Y/N) huffed loudly, gripping onto the handle of the shopping cart tighter. “Okay. So. We have your gross asparagus, steak, mashed potatoes, and what else? I’m going to make sautéed onions and mushrooms for the steak. What should I make for dessert?”

Stiles shrugged, “dunno. I’m not in charge of the dessert, that’s your area (Y/N). I’m just here for the whole dinner thing. Make like. I don’t know? Cupcakes.”

“Cupcakes are boring.” (Y/N) sighed, pushing the cart behind Stiles. “God. I hate grocery shopping. Have I ever mentioned that?”

Stiles rolled his eyes, stopping abruptly in front of the meat section. (Y/N) accidentally hit him with the cart, gasping in shock. “I am so sorry!”

Stiles turned a glare on her, rubbing his hip where the cart hit. “I’m sure you aren’t.”

(Y/N) returned his glare, “what is that supposed to mean?”

Stiles ignored her, picking up a package of fillets. “These look good?” He held the package up for her to see.

“I’m serious! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean you probably meant to hit me, (Y/N). I know how you get. You’ve been snippy with me for hours, and maybe it wasn’t conscious but you meant to hit me.”

(Y/N) flared her nostrils in anger, “I would never. I’ve been snippy because you made me go buy new dishes from one store. Then you made me get a new table cloth from a second store. Now we’re here for food. And I’m going to have to cook and bake for a dozen people. I’m tired, Stiles. That’s all. I wouldn’t hit my baby daddy.”

Stiles sighed, “sorry. I’m nervous to tell everyone, and it’s coming out in obsessing over everything being perfect. I’m sorry. Won’t happen anymore. Want me to drop you back at your apartment and I can handle this all on my own?”

(Y/N) shook her head, pouting a bit, her eyes lowering to her hands. “No… I don’t want you stressing all on your own, Stiles. I just… I want you to know I’m not being a bitch on purpose. You know how I get when I’m tired.”

Stiles sighed, dropping the fillets back to their spot, rounding the shopping cart to pull (Y/N) into a hug. “Yeah, I do.” He took a deep breath, gently rubbing her back. “Go take a nap in the car, yeah? I can finish the shopping - I know what we need - and when I come out you can drive us to your place. That way I can rest on the way there. That sound like a deal?”

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, her head resting against Stiles chest. “Okay, thank you.”

The two stood together for a moment, Stiles just rubbing (Y/N)’s back while she rest against him, before (Y/N) decided to pull away. “I should go lay down.”

Stiles nodded, fishing the keys to his car out of his pocket. “I’ll be out as soon as possible. Okay?”

“Sure.” (Y/N) picked her purse up from the child seat in the cart, took the keys, and walked out of the store.

(Y/N) woke to Stiles picking her up from the back seat of his car. She peeked an eye open, and quickly shut it again, allowing Stiles to carry her inside of his home. When he got her settled on the couch, she decided to pretend to wake up, stretching her limbs out.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles rushed out. “I didn’t mean to wake you! You can go back to sleep.” He picked up the blanket from the back of the couch, covering her up before she could protest.

“I should be in there helping you make dinner,” (Y/N) started, pushing the blanket off of her waist down to her thighs.

“Nope!” Stiles covered her back up again, resting a hand on her shoulder to keep her laying down. “You can sleep. I’ve got this covered. I know how to cook, (Y/N). Besides, you’d just get annoyed by me and come out here anyway.”

“I would not!” (Y/N) argued.

Stiles gave her a knowing look, and she acquiesced, getting comfortable against the pillows on the couch. “Fine. I’ll lay here.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and grunted when Stiles leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Don’t do that shit, Stiles. I don’t know you like that.”

“(Y/N),” Stiles sighed. “You’re carrying my baby. You know me well enough to let me kiss your forehead.”

(Y/N) mocked him, rolling onto her side so that she had her back to him. “Go cook, Stiles, before I ‘accidentally’ fall down the stairs and I’m not carrying your child any more.”

“(Y/N).” Stiles sounded hurt. “Please don’t joke about that. Knowing how clutzy you are, it wouldn’t surprise me if you managed to do just that on a real accident. Let’s not jinx anything, yeah?”

(Y/N) frowned, not turning to face him. “Fine, Stiles. Sorry. Go cook.”

Sighing, Stiles walked away from the couch, rubbing his forehead tiredly. Unlike (Y/N), he hadn’t had the luxury of napping because his baby daddy was nice. “My father will be here soon,” he called from the kitchen, his head inside of the fridge while he reorganized the vegetables in the crisper. “I want to tell him before everyone so he’s gonna be here before the rest of them arrive.”

(Y/N) grunted her response, pulling the blanket Stiles had covered her with up, over her shoulder up to her ear.

“You’re going to have to wake up when he gets here, I just realized, cause. You’ve got to share this news too. It’s our news, not just mine. And it would take the fun out of it if I just told him myself and you weren’t involved.”

(Y/N) groaned this time, scrunching her eyes tighter.

Stiles continued rambling, speaking of various things that (Y/N) had tuned out while she tried sleeping. The doorbell going off startled her, her heart jumping a bit. She sat up in time to watch Stiles nearly trip over his own feet as he came running out of the kitchen, headed for the front door. “I got it!” he called to her, stopping abruptly and grabbing at the doorknob.

“I’m glad.” She huffed, standing from couch. She made a half hearted attempt at folding the blanket she had just been covered with, draping it once more over the back of the couch.

Stiles greeted his father with an excited ‘hello’, hugging his old man tight. The two Stilinski men walked into the house together, Stiles offering to take his fathers jacket from him. Sheriff Noah Stilinski shrugged the jacket off of his shoulders, offering it to his son who promptly hung it on a hook beside the door.

“Oh, hello (Y/N).” The sheriff greeted with a warm smile, crossing to (Y/N), pulling her into a hug. The two squeezed each other tightly for a brief moment before (Y/N) let go, pushing her fingers through her hair.

Sties crossed the room and took a seat on the couch with (Y/N). The Sheriff took a seat in the overstuff and slightly uncomfortable gray armchair, across from the young couple. An air of uncomfortableness settled in the room as Stiles knotted and un-knotted his hands in his lap.

“So,” the Sheriff said, drawing out the’o’. “This is the weirdest parent/teacher conference I’ve ever attended. What has my son done now?”

Me, (Y/N) thought, covering her mouth so as not to snicker. She licked her lips, “well, Mr. Stilinski, your son’s performance has been, dare I say, less than satisfactory?”

Stiles turned to look at her, giving her a furrowed brow glare. “Excuse me? My performance in what?”

Sheriff laughed, crossing his leg over his knee. “Really, you two. Why did you guys have me come over here so early? I thought dinner wasn’t for another hour?”

“It isn’t,” Stiles responded, his throat getting dry with the realization that this was it. This was the time in which he would have to announce to his father that he was going to upgrade in dad status. That he would transcende from Father Stilinski to Grandfather Stilinski. Stiles’ palms began to sweat.

“Son,” Sheriff prompted motioning with his hand for his son to continue. “What is it?”

Stiles cleared his dry throat, rubbing his sweating palms against his jean clad thighs. “It’s nothing, really. I mean. Okay, well it’s technically something. A big something. No, really it’s a small something. It’s a small something. It’s nothing to even really concern yourself with dad. Honestly, I don’t know why we even brought this up. I promise. Nothing important.”

(Y/N) rest her hand on Stiles knee, giving it a squeeze to try stopping him from rambling. It didn’t work, and she moved her hand back to her own lap, spinning the small ring she kept above the second knuckle of her left ring finger.

Sheriff stared, watching the two of them with narrowed eyes. “What the hell are you talking about, son?” The sheriff asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well,” Stiles started again. His voice had kept it’s regular anxious pitch, but sped up. “We’ve got something to tell you. We as in (Y/N) and I. Well, technically it’s just me because (Y/N) isn’t doing much talking. She likes to watch me flounder, throw me to the wolves so to speak. Anyway,” he rubbed at his forehead, trying to collect his thoughts. “You know how we’re best friends, right dad?”

Stiles father nodded, watching his son, his eyebrow now raised in wonder. “Yeah, I’ve known that for years. Why are you clarifying?”

“Just bear with me,” Stiles encouraged, licking his lips, pulling them back between his teeth for a second while he thought of what to say next. (Y/N) pursed her lips together watching him with raised eyebrows and wide eyes. “You know we’re like, really close right? The closest I’ve ever been with someone that I’m not dating or that isn’t Scott.” “Again, yes, Stiles. Where is this going?”

Stiles shot his father a look, “let me just get there naturally.”

Sheriff Stilinski took a deep breath and sank back further against the chair.

“Anyway,” Stiles leg began bouncing. “Well a - what would you say? Month and a half? Almost two months?”

(Y/N) nodded, shrugging her shoulders a bit, “sure.”

“Almost two months ago we were hanging out - watching a show together -, and we got to drinking like grown adults do,” Stiles nodded along to his own story. “Well, right. One thing lead to another and well.” Stiles motioned between (Y/N) and himself. “We kind of - well no we totally did, get her pregnant. Well, by that I mean. I got (Y/N) pregnant, because I’m the guy and according to what I have read. That’s how it works. The one with the sperm gets the one with the egg pregnant. Right?”

(Y/N) brought her hand up to her eyes, rubbing them tiredly, mentally chastising herself when she remembered the mascara she wore on her eyelashes. “Stiles, please. Stop before you further embarrass the both of us.”

Stiles pouted a little, “I’m not embarrassing us, (Y/N). Don’t be rude. I’m trying to talk to my father about this. It’s important and it’s big - little really - like the size of a poppy seed. I have an app that tells me how big the little one is and it told me it’s a poppy seed right now.” He shook his head. “We’re having a baby.” He finally actually announced to his father, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

Noah sat in his slightly uncomfortable arm chair, processing the vomit of words his son had just strewn across the living room floor. (Y/N) glanced between the two generations of Stilinski men, her hand resting on her stomach of its own accord. When no one said anything for longer than Stiles could bear, he opened his mouth again to speak, his father's hand shooting up faster than he figured should be humanly possible.

“Don’t,” his father sighed. Noah took a deep breath, his chest constricting tightly around his lungs. “You dragged me over here to tell me a lie?”

“What?” Stiles asked, head shaking back and forth rapidly in shock, eyes widening and eyebrows shooting to his hairline. “A lie? What? No. Dad, this is - this is serious. Like, cancer serious but like, not miserable serious. It’s a baby. Dad. (Y/N)’s pregnant! With my child. Our child. What do we call it, (Y/N)? Ours or mine? I don’t really know the proper terminology. I’ve heard people say it both ways when discussing their impending offspring.”

“Stiles, you’re rambling.”

“Mhmm.” He agreed, nodding his head a little. “I am. But that’s because this... guy,” he pointed at his father. “Doesn’t believe that you’re pregnant. You just straight up called our unborn child a lie, dad. That hurts,” Stiles declared, turning to look at his father.

“I’m sorry, kid. I just,” Noah sat up a bit straighter. “I never thought that I would be sat down to be that you were going to be a father.”

“Excuse me? Do I not seem the fatherly type?”

Noah shook his head, “you do. I wasn’t finished. I meant, be a father with (Y/N). I always figured you two would be in love with each other and not say anything about it until the two of you died.”

“We aren’t in love with each other,” (Y/N) corrected, leaving the rest of the conversation untouched.

“From what I’ve sort of heard, through all of his looping rambles, is that you’re having his baby,” Sheriff pointed at Stiles his eyes on (Y/N). “That kind of makes it seem like you’re in love.”

Stiles shook his head, not wanting his father to continue to out him as being mindlessly in love with his best friend who was now holding the title of ‘mother-to-his-child’. He didn’t need that embarrassing conversation today.

“Okay,” Stiles began again. “Don’t look at this like ‘oh we’re two people in love who made a baby because it’s the next step in our wonderful loving and committed relationship’. Cause, there’s no relationship here besides a purely platonic friendship-y relationship. Right, (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) nodded, wondering how this would end.

“Think of it like in the way that like, okay. (Y/N)’s uterus - or is it your womb? God, I swear I learned anatomy once. I did. I promise, it’s a credit. Whatever, (Y/N)’s uterus sounds better. (Y/N)’s uterus is a hotel, okay. She had a vacancy, because there wasn’t a baby. Okay, see where I’m going with this? And one day I had - oh my God!” He shouted to himself, bringing his hands up to his arm that (Y/N) started smacking.

“Do not refer to my uterus as a fucking hotel, Stilinski. Jesus Christ! There are four thousand different ways you can say this, without using that weird analogy.”

Noah began laughing, shaking his head at the two in front of him.

“What I was trying to say, before you started abusing me, in front of a cop no less - was this; (Y/N) wanted a baby, I wanted a baby. She had an egg, I had sperm. Yadahyadah, we decided that I’d use her egg, she’d use my sperm. We’d do some things to get the party started, and bam! Baby.”

“I’m getting an abortion, I’ve changed my mind. I swear to God. I need a drink more than I have ever needed a drink in my entire life, Stilinski.”

“We discussed not saying you’re getting rid of the baby.”

“That was before you called my uterus a hotel.”

Noah’s laugh caused the two of them to turn their heads and stop their arguing, “so. You’re having a baby, because you’re a couple? But you’re not a couple? But you’ve been having… relations?”

“Basically,” Stiles nodded.

“Minus the couple part all together. We are just friends, who had sex, and wound up with a baby.” “So it was an accident?” Noah asked.

(Y/N) shook her head, “no! It was planned, it was planned. It was ..”

“An agreement,” Stiles finished for her.

“You guys agreed to have a baby?”

“Yep.” (Y/N) popped the ‘p’.

Noah stood up, walking away from the two of them. Stiles bound after his father, brows knitted together in confusion. “What are you doin’?” He wondered, gripping onto the edge of the counter when they both stopped in the kitchen.

“Getting a drink,” Noah declared, finding a bottle of whiskey in Stiles liquor cabinet.

“Get me one!” (Y/N) called from the living room.

“Ignore her,” Stiles sighed. “Look, dad. I promise it isn’t as weird as it sounds. It really isn’t. She’s my best friend in the entire world. I would kill a numerous amount of men for her if I so needed to. That’s why this is so perfect. I really wanted a child, dad. And so did she, you should have seen the way she looked when we first started the conversation that spurred on us deciding to have a baby together. It was heartbreaking.”

“I know the look,” Noah mused, adding a handful of ice to a glass he’d taken from the cupboard.

“Right, cause you’re a dad. Anyway,” Stiles rubbed at the back of his neck. “She was gonna go to a sperm bank, dad. How gross is that?”

“Aren’t you essentially a familiar sperm bank?”

“Ouch. Wow, okay, no. I’m going to help raise the baby. It’s going to be split, fifty-fifty. Half hers, half mine. Sperm banks are one hundred percent the mom, zero percent the father. I didn’t think I needed to explain that.” Stiles sighed, taking the drink from his father when he walked close enough.

“That was mine,” Noah acknowledged, turning back around to make himself another drink.

“It’s going to be good, dad. Seriously. This baby is going to be so lucky. Not only will (Y/N) be it’s mother, which already sets it up to have a good chance in life, but it’ll have me and you, and the whole rest of the pack. This may seem weird, trust me. I’ve spent every night since we made this agreement thinking about how weird it is. But. It’s good. I promise. I’m happy, dad. I’m excited.”

Noah turned his head, looking at his son over his shoulder. “You and I both know this is going to hurt you, Stiles.”

Stiles downed the amber liquid from his stolen glass, setting it down on the countertop with a clink. “How is it going to hurt me?”

“Cause,” Noah turned around, leaning his back against the counter. “I know you’re in love with her. I know because you’ve told me, time and time again. I know because you look at her like I was told I looked at your mother.” Noah frowned, giving his son an apologetic look. “She was quick to shut down you two being in a relationship when I mentioned it, son. She probably sees this as no more than what you were trying to peddle me out there, a business deal.”

“It is,” Stiles said with no truth to it.

“Sure,” Noah disagreed. “Look. I just know that the longer she’s pregnant, the more attached you both will get to each other. You’re going to fall for her harder, Stiles. C’mon. You know that. You know that this isn’t going to end well for you, son. When that baby comes she’s going to go back to being the same ol’ best friend she always was to you, and it’s going to break your heart. You’re going to have to share custody of this baby with her, and you’re going to probably have to watch her get into a relationship with someone else. I just,” Noah shook his head, downing his drink in the same manner his son had done a moment prior.

Stiles shook his head, spinning the ice in the glass with his middle finger. “I’ll be fine, dad,” Stiles promised, not looking up at his father. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be good. We’ll be good. Can’t you just, maybe, be happy for me? I’m going to be a father, dad… This is good.”

Noah frowned for a brief second before nodding, “okay, Stiles. You’re right. You’ll be good. C’mere.”

Stiles crossed the kitchen, embracing his dad in a warm hug. “I’m really happy for you, kiddo. Congratulations, to you and (Y/N).”

“Thanks, dad,” Stiles said, smiling into the hug.

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