#im safe and home now just processing

[genderoutlaws]

went to buy hair dye today after work and got fucking chased down in the parking lot by 4 dudes in a car screaming slurs and shit at me abt my body and my hair and shit. and 2 ladies were walkin in front of me n no one said shit or asked if i was okay. being a girls girl isnt for dykes and heshes i am well aware but it always stings and it sucks feeling unsafe and also knowing theres no one on your side. cant show your heart or tears just have to rage and scream and fight back and hope for the best bc what else is there. last time i saw a girl in a parking lot getting yelled at by dudes in a car driving by i screamed go fuck yourselves and she thanked me and it felt good and i will always stand up fr others but i wish tough butch dykes had someone to stand up for us too sometimes. thts what femmes are for honestly but my femme is 200 miles away and im just Here. anyways i hope those guys get in a fiery car wreck and die

[puhpandas]

Take Me Home 1, 2

(to see new chapters release, sub on ao3 :))

(3227 words)

When Cassie wakes for the second time, it's not with a pounding head and limbs as heavy as iron. No. This time, her awareness of the world rolls in smoothly, and all she feels when she wakes fully is faint buzzing throughout her body.

She revels in it; the fact that theres no pain. She doesn't think too hard about why, she just shifts, moving to stretch her limbs, but hisses when going to move her arm sends a wave of soreness pain up her arm.

She grits her teeth, yelping and suddenly re-entering the world fully when the pain throws her into alertness.

Her eyes shoot open, and she moves to sit up in bed, heart racing when all she can remember is last being in the dark, dingy, falling apart Pizzaplex, but she calms when all she can see is someone's bedroom.

"...Huh?" She mumbles, her mind still not having fully caught up to her yet. She glances around the room, painted a pale blue, with furniture tucked against the neighboring walls and flowing curtains covering most of the sunlight filtering through the window, a light breeze ruffling them.

Movement catches her attention in the corner of her eye, and she glances over just in time for Gregory to snort awake, eyes trailing across her, not really seeing her, until they blow wide in recognition.

"Cassie!" Gregory exclaims, rushing to stand up from the position he was in where he had been sitting in a chair, laying his head in his arms, hunched over on the bed. "You're finally awake!"

Cassie feels her heart warm when she realizes that Gregory had been waiting for her to wake up by her bedside, never leaving her prescence. Long enough for him to fall asleep. Her heart slows to a normal rate when she sets eyes on him, immediately feeling at ease, and she breaths a deep breath, shifting to sit up more and allowing Gregory to help her when he rushes over.

She hisses when the movement jostles her leg and arm, and she finally takes a good look at them, realizing that at some point, in her sleep, her cardigan had been taken off, leaving her in her button-up, and her shoes and socks had been discarded, leaving her in her dark purple tights and shorts.

Gregory notices her staring at her foot, which is propped up on a pillow, peeking out from under the thick comforter, with some sort of makeshift splint made from cloth wrapped around the ankle.

"We had to improvise." He informs her, that lopsided grin Cassie'd always see in her dreams and on her homemade missing posters stretched on his face. "Ness cant exactly take the chance of getting involved with authority."

Cassie furrows her brows, her mind still kind of foggy from her -what she guesses- long sleep. "Ness?"

Gregory perks up. "Oh. It's a nickname we use for Vanessa a lot. Y'know, that blonde girl that was with us in the pizzeria?"

Cassie nods in recognition, remembering her blonde ponytail with rainbow streaks. "Yeah, um... how exactly did--"

She gets cut off when the door clicks open, and speak of the devil. "Oh, you're awake." Vanessa peeks her head in the room, a smile on her face when she sees Cassie sitting up and awake. "We were just making dinner, and I wanted to see if you were up."

"Um..." Cassie trails off. "Dinner?" She settles on.

Gregory senses her uncertainty, and settles a hand on her shoulder. "Vanessa's makin' chicken alfredo. And since you're awake, now you can finally eat."

Her stomach rumbles as if on queue, and her cheeks redden. Gregory has no problem laughing at her. "How long has it been?"

Cassie tries to think. "A few hours before you came and got me, since I ran to the Pizzaplex as soon as I got the message. So... that plus however long I slept for."

"Eighteen hours." Vanessa supplies helpfully.

Cassies eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. "Eighteen hours?!" She exclaims.

Gregory laughs, and Vanessa just looks at her with a crooked smile that reminds her of Gregory's. "Yup. You were exhausted physically and emotionally, and were injured, kiddo. The fact that you slept for so long checks out."

Gregory giggles. "Remember when we first got back, you slept for twenty-one."

Vanessa rolls her eyes. "I think I had a perfectly good reason to sleep the whole day away. Unlike you." She points two fingers from her eyes to Gregory. "Its not my fault you have the same amount of energy as a hyperactive dog."

"You mentioned a dog! So is the dog talk working?" Gregory asks, smugly. "Come on, Ness. Just concede. Its only a matter of time before you cave."

Cassie just watches, unsure of what to do when Gregory and Vanessa talk. Theres a grin on Gregory's face, not one she's used to. Not like the mischievous, pointed ones when Gregory was brewing something up, or the slight, hopeful ones, when Cassie would talk about when they got older, and she and Gregory could work towards getting a car and finally being able to give Gregory a life where he doesnt have to worry, and they can just live. Just a few more years, they'd always say.

This one is easy. Its gentle, with no kind of edge to be detected, and it looks so right on his face. It doesn't look forced, it doesnt look rare. Cassie can tell just by looking that Gregory has smiled like this often, and hes been allowed to be used to it. To smile without the quirk of worry.

It warms Cassies heart, to see that theres been change. But it also hurts.

Because he'd been away for so long, and although Cassie is so, so glad to have him back, she can't help but wonder why he never reached out to her. If he'd been able to smile so easily like this, while she couldn't muster one at times, too empty from his absence.

"I can barely take care of you and Freddy, kid." Vanessa points out, and Cassie is thrown back into reality. "And now I got another destroyed animatronic to fix and another kid. Not even mentioning a dog."

Cassie gasps, big and sudden at Vanessa's words. "Roxy!" She exclaims, and she winces when her voice rasps, and her dry throat burns from dehydration. "Roxy! Where is she? Is--Is she okay?!"

When Cassie starts to shift, arms moving to roll the comforter off of herself and somehow leave the bed, Gregory and Vanessa both rush to gently push her back down.

"Its okay, Cassie." Gregory says in that soft voice of his where it feels like it's only reserved for Cassie. "Shes in parts and service. While you were asleep, we wanted to fix her up a little, so we took turns watching you and fixing Roxy up."

Cassie feels the tension melt off of her body when she hears that Roxy is here, and has been fixed a little, but she still furrows her brows in confusion at 'parts and service', because are they not in a house right now?

Cassie can see Vanessa roll her eyes and go to explain. "He means that shes in one of the spare rooms we use to work on animatronics." Vanessa tells her. "We used it to build Freddy a body, and once Freddy started calling it parts and service, Gregory jumped on it, and it just stuck."

Cassie nods slowly, taking in the influx of information that she cant fully sort through right now. "So thats why Freddy didnt have a head."

"Do you want to see her?" Gregory asks. "Roxy, I mean. I'm suprised she hasnt barged in here already. I had to fight her to get her to trust me and Ness enough to work on her and watch you."

Cassie smiles, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. Because Roxy is so worried about her, and Cassie is happy that she cares, but shes upset that Roxy and Gregory are so hostile towards eachother. "Yeah. Um. I would like to see her."

Gregory nods, and smiles. "Kay. She wont look the exact same, since I tried my best to restore her some, but at least she isnt about to fall apart."

Vanessa leaves the room with a curse, and Cassie ignores the slight burning smell coming from outside the door. "...Okay. Just... when you get her, can we have some alone time?"

Gregory nods, halfway out the door. "Okay. Sure. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay." She says, and then Gregory is gone.

Cassie breathes deep, playing with the frayed edges of the comforter when theres nothing else to do. She can hear the clattering of kitchen utensils from further in the house, and hushed voices.

The silence stretches further in her room, and when Gregory doesnt return, not right away, Cassie can feel her chest tighten, and something grip her lungs.

She breathes harshly through her nose, and notices how her hands begin to shake slightly.

Something grabs at her chest, something akin to panic, feeling like a giant hand and squeezing.

Gregory. Is all she can think about. He said he'd be right back. Where is he? He shouldn't have been gone this long, right?

Have I lost him again?

She squeezes her eyes shut, trying really hard to keep still, to keep calm, but her brain is jumbled, like its tied itself in knots, and all she can think about is how Gregory isn't here with her.

She has half the mind to get up, to tear through the house to search for him, to make sure she hasnt lost him again, that she wont have to look for him again. But one look at her ankle thats wrapped in cloth and she knows it isnt possible.

She makes a pitiful noise, breaths huffing out of her mouth now, short and heavy, and Gregory hasnt come back yet, and she cant do a thing about it.

It's only when Gregory pops his head back through the door, nudging it open with a creak that Cassie is ripped away from her thoughts and actually realizes how much shes panicking.

Gregory steps inside, a smile on his face, mouth open ready to speak, but it drops right off as soon as he sees Cassie.

Cassie cant find it in her to speak when Gregory rushes over to her, asking if shes okay. Her brain feels like its fogged over, or like its signal is blocked, and she cant think enough to respond to his questions.

All she can do is reach out to him when relief overwhelms her, enough for tears to slip past her lashes, and Gregory pauses in his rapid fire questions, seeming to understand something.

"I'm here, Cassie." He tells her, getting on the bed with her. He let's her wrap her arms around him and squeeze him as much as she needs when she moves to. "I'm not leaving again, okay? I'll be here with you. Nothings going to take me away from you. You arent going to lose me."

Cassie relishes in the reassurance. It reaches past all of the fog into some part of her brain, and it's like hosing down a wildfire. Her breathing slows down as she soaks up the feeling of Gregory right here, with her, and not going anywhere.

The panic that gripped her heart loosens some, and shes finally able to breathe, breathing deep breaths when Gregory does too.

"Sorry." She says after a moment, wiping at her eyes. "I dont... I dont know why that happened. I, um..."

"Separation anxiety." Gregory says, and Cassie startles. When shes finally able to unfuse herself with Gregory enough to look at his face, he has a knowing, serious expression on his face. "I had my rodeo with it, too... me and Freddy didnt have too good of a time with it."

Cassie furrows her brows, and it feels like she has ten thousand more questions added to the pile to ask, but Gregory stops her before she can speak.

"I'll tell you another time, okay?" He says, gesturing to the door where Roxy stands, waiting patiently for someone who was, when she last checked, willing to rip apart the guy Cassie just hugged to death. "Just... I promise I'll help you with it, okay? I dont think I'll be too different from you, after trying to reach you all night, and also..."

His eyes glaze over some, looking like a thousand different memories are playing over them, but he shakes it off, offering one more smile. "Itll be fine, okay? I'm gonna go make you a plate, cuz I think dinners ready, and you can talk to Roxy. Sound good?"

Cassie doesnt know what's wrong with her, because she almost tears up again at Gregory's words, because hes being so kind, and so understanding. She shouldn't be surpised, she guesses, Gregory had always found a way to catch her off guard with kindness when she'd been so used to being brushed off or disliked.

She nods, smiling back ag him, and he offers a thumbs up, moving past Roxy and shutting the door behind him.

It's only now that Cassies able to fully pay attention to Roxy, and she gasps, almost not recognizing her.

Before, she hadn't had anything resembling a face. Just her endoskeleton skull exposed due to broken casing. But now, she somehow has her face casing back. The colors are a little off, and it looks dusty and unused, but she looks like herself. Her last remaining strands of hair are fuller now, some new strands added. They've been shifted, too, styled to look adjacent to her old style, just shorter.

Her body isnt much different, one of her arms has its forearms back, a bright, clean purple compared to her filthy leg warmers, and she has her other foot back, just a larger size and different color.

But the most prominent change are definitely the eyeballs, glowing blue LED's, stuck securely in their sockets.

Cassie laughs disbelievingly, joyously, putting her hands up to her mouth with a wide smile.

"Roxy!" She exclaims. "You have eyes again!"

It's only now, when Roxy laughs along with her, that Cassie realizes her voice box has been replaced, too. Cassie laughs even more when Roxys voice filters through, sounding happy, instead of angry, no warbling or static to be found.

Roxy heads to her bedside, and shes walking much more surely, now. Not like her long, wide strides, always careful to not collide with something. She sways from side to side, ever confident in her looks.

"How do I look?" Roxy asks, fluttering her eyelashes now that she has some again and fluffing her new hairdo up with her hand. "The brat gave me a makeover."

Cassie giggles. "You look beautiful, Roxy."

"I know." Roxy says, but then turns her attention towards Cassie. "How are you doing, Speed racer?" Roxy asks, voice soft. "That elevator couldnt have felt good."

Cassie shakes her head, gesturing to her splinted arm and ankle. "Nope, but... Gregory and Vanessa fixed me up pretty good. I'm not hurting that much."

"I'm glad." Roxy smiles, because she can now.

It's just Cassie and Roxy, now. And like with Gregory, everything she'd been feeling, all the thoughts she'd been having all bubble up to the surface, and now that everyones here, and safe, she just wants to get it all out.

So Cassie furrows her brows, and goes to tell Roxy I'm sorry, I didnt want to, I shut you down and you still saved me, why? But before she can, the door clicks back open, and Gregory steps inside her room, balancing two plates on his hands.

"Dinners ready." He tells her, smiling, and Cassie doesn't know why shes suprised when after Gregory hands her her own plate, he crawls up on the bed with her.

So she doesnt voice it. She just smiles, a big, wide one, but still small and soft.

Vanessa walks inside the room with her own plate, and Freddy, looking everything like the home-built animatronic he is, follows behind her, extra pillows and blankets in his arms.

"I was thinking we have a movie night." Vanessa says, sitting in the same chair Gregory was when she first woke up. "Better than you having to sit in here bored, right, kid?"

Cassie nods, and her mouth waters when she catches a whiff of the chicken alfredo sitting in her lap.

Gregory snatches the remote from Vanessa, holding it away from her arms when she tries to take it back. The TV in front of them that she just now notices is in the room comes to life, Disney+ appearing on screen.

Gregory hands the remote to Cassie when Vanessa finally gives up, and shes able to pick the movie, putting on a happy, animated movie, where all the characters have their happy endings and nothing bad really ever happens.

The chicken alfredo was delicious, and they sat in her makeshift room, pillows and blankets built up like jenga around her to make her as comfortable as possible for hours, laughing together.

Cassies cheeks hurt by the end, and although shes so thrilled after hanging out with Gregory again, just having fun together like they used to, she cant help but notice that Roxy was really quiet the whole time. Really quiet.

Cassie doesnt think shes very good at reading animatronics yet, not like Vanessa and Gregory seem to be able to with Freddy, but Cassie cant help but feel like Roxy wasnt really able to relax this whole time, and shes surrounded with people she feels unsafe with.

By the end of it all, when the suns long set and Cassie feels tiredness drag her eyelids down, she cant rest, even when Vanessa's retired to her room, Gregory's left, and Roxy and Freddy went to parts and service.

She feels the same panic as earlier grip her heart. It's not like a panic attack; she's had a few of those, it's more like any chance of relaxation has left her body, and all that's left is feeling tense, on edge, and like something bad is going to happen. Like Gregory isnt going to be there when she wakes up.

But she needn't have worried, because it isnt too long until Gregory re-enters her room, wearing pajamas and Roxy and Freddy plushies clutched in one hand, with a night light in the other.

"This helped me and Freddy when it'd get bad, too." Gregory explains, tucking the Roxy plushie into her own arm as he lays down with her, clicking the night light shaped like Sundrop on. "That way, you can see me if you get scared that I'm gone."

Cassie can't put into words how grateful she is, or how glad she is that Gregory's back, and that she finally has him again, so she just doesn't, even though she wants to. Instead, she just clicks the lamp off, and when she lays down, wraps her arms around his middle.

Once Gregory is pressed up against her, with her forehead against his collarbone, and she can feel his slow, calm breaths, she feels relaxed. She finally feels herself slip into dreamland, and has no nightmares.

2nd ao3 link

[moved-to-slayfk]

posting here because this just doesn’t feel right to talk about in the horseimagebarn voice but this is extremely important to talk about.

my partner and i have returned to our hometown to stay with her family and my own has gotten a hotel here too (they moved to the town we currently live in after we did) so we are all safe and out of the thick of it

however there are tens of thousands of people who are not both in my own town and in the many surrounding it. appalachia will take an extremely long time to recover from this and there are more storms on the way. all i see on social media right now is people asking for shelter because their homes have been destroyed, or people asking for help searching for family members who are missing. hundreds of trees have fallen. hundreds of homes have flooded. roads are literally falling apart. preexisting sinkholes due to shitty pipes are opening up and consuming land. dams are on the verge of bursting and the only way to stop it is to release water so quickly it floods whole towns. all but one of our cell towers are down, so only people with at&t have service and the rest can’t contact anyone. over half the town still doesn’t have power. a major water supply issue occurred and the entire town is on a water boil order with no electricity to boil with. people are trapped in their homes and workplaces or out on the street because they have nowhere to go. law enforcement is blocking off roads but trapping people in the process. people have to be rescued by helicopter. our animal shelter has no water or power and boarding facilities have been flooded. entire villages like chimney rock nc are gone, and entire cities like asheville are cut off from the rest of the state and are completely inaccessible. ALL OF THE ROADS IN WESTERN NORTH CAROLINA ARE CLOSED. 400+ roads are closed because they are unsafe . that is INSANE!!!

when people say that climate change isn’t real, they don’t know what they’re talking about. climate change and its father capitalism are only going to continue to worsen lives in every way possible. i live in the mountains and our infrastructure is completely unprepared to handle hurricanes and it’s only going to get worse. it’s such a strange and eye-opening experience to live something like this when you think that it could never happen to you because that type of weather shouldn’t reach you in your environment. climate change doesn’t care where you live. it’s real.

western north carolina and the rest of the southeast that has been hit by helene need help. more people need to be talking about this so that the government DOES SOMETHING because the government historically fucking hates appalachia and it still does!!! the major state institution near me took DAYS to respond despite being the only place in town with power and wifi connection because they had to wait for the state to approve their response—they could have allowed thousands of people to evacuate days prior to the hurricane hitting us but they didn’t do anything before or after until it was too late!!! it’s bullshit!!! PLEASE get talking about this because something has to be done. climate change is going to continue happening and our mountains and the people in them are going to suffer immensely. hundreds if not thousands are now homeless. please talk about this look at the footage online of the wreckage and look how quickly our infrastructure crumbled. we need better. the people of appalachia deserve better.

i’ll get back to posting horses soon. but for now this is a lot. my friends are homeless and my family had to get off the mountain or be trapped there without power and water for days. we’re all safe but exhausted. i hope everyone who has been affected by this is staying safe. if you are in western nc, dm me. when i come back, if you’re in my area, im happy to bring supplies. stay safe everyone

[hisfavoritesundress]

a/n: unedited, not proofread, just for fun <3

dating jason todd as red hood is something you haven't prepared yourself with.

aside from being the eventual personal nurse of his, but also your crazy bodyguard.

im not just talking about walking you home or taking you safely to any destination. He know your schedule every damn day, in every second, in every minute, with your knowledge of course, he wants you to understand that he is your boyfriend, and that's his job to protect you, but that doesn't mean he wants to control you, just letting you know that he'll jump off a building for you, just your word is all he needed.

he's jason todd, he doesn't settle for less., especially when it comes to your safety.

talking about tracking device, not just on your phone, he's not taking any chances, he's putting it everywhere, making a device inside a pendant, that small unnoticeable earrings, even around the band of your rings, panic button disguise as a cutesy little keychain, or even a pink little wrist watch, to monitor your pulse, all those devices connected to him, monitoring you when he's away and he'll be damned if something happens to you.

"this is a very cute keychain jay," you beamed, looking at him as he hand you a new design of keychain he made using 3d printer.

"yeah, it got a tracker, just in case," he said looking at you, "call me immediately if something came up, you can press it, it's a panic button too."

you bite a smile, "you're the best"

well, you're in Gotham and he's not risking even a little bit, so you can't blame him either.

"if you see something unusual, walk the other way, got it?" he said with that slight commanding voice that he used everytime he's talking about danger or Gotham or both, to you.

you look up to him. "yeah, got it"

"don't hesitate to call me or press that button, don't try to fight, just run if you can," he said even if the idea of you running from danger spins his head and taste bitter in his mouth, but it's the reality, despite how much he wants you to be in safety, there are circumstances that you might get involved.

"what if i don't have a choice but to fight babe?" you asked, curiously.

which he's well aware of, but he doesn't want to worry you.

he turn his back to the stainless steel table at the side and grab something and take it to you.

"this is a switch blade," he said, despite his initial disagreement of giving it to you, not that he doesn't trust you but because he would prefer you not getting hurt in the process, "it looks like a pen but when you click this," he demonstrate, clicking the button at the top, then the knife no longer than 5 cm glints under the florescent light, "it won't kill a man but it can nip a skin that would give you enough time to," he paused, "if it ever happened which won't ever," he added emphasizing his words, "will give you enough time to run," he added, watching your reaction, "press the same button, the blade goes back in."

"that's so cool," you smile, wanting to try it now, but he pulled his arm away before you could get the weapon.

"i want you to understand that this is not something you can just play around, doll," he frowned, unimpressed of your smile.

"yeah I know babe," you said, looking up to him. "I just wanna try it'

"you won't use it unless, unless, you really really need it," he said, firmly, "this is your last resort, you have every means of reaching me before you use this," he added, "are we clear?"

you nodded again.

"use your words"

"i promise, i won't use it unless i really really need it," you repeated, taking his words to heart.

he sighs and hand you the cute weapon, it's in pink, with glitter details around the rim of the button. "just be careful around it," he said, never looking away from you.

you smile softly, "i promise, i do, I'll call you first."

he sighs, at least you and him are in the same page, "okay," he said, reluctant to give the weapon to you, "you have to press it with a bit pressure so the blade comes out," he explained, while you hold the ball pen around your hand, "so it won't be an accident, when you bury it in your bag" he added.

"does it comes with other colors too?" you asked, looking at the table.

he shook his head, "no, just one, I only made that for you," he said.

weeks later, he saw you opening a package using the very weapon, he only shook his head and smile, cause let's face it, he's your real weapon.

[nowandthane]

wait guys im crying omg. i completely missed the divorce-versary. oh my god. it's been a year. holy shit.

everyone clap? 🥳🥳

everyone clap I have officially started the divorce application 🥳🥳

[strwberri-milk]

Hi berri bbs, can I request a small thing of sylus. Where mc goes to the n109 zone after the caleb plot and just takes a shower in sylus room and wears his top pjs and sleeps on his spot, all while being quiet because he's not there yet and he comes home and finds her like that.

hihi!! im not sure how caleb plays into this request but im gonna maybe think its bc like. youre a little shaken after the experience in skyhaven? so im gonna have it be kinda like, reader is just kinda trying to process everything that happened but not explicitly mention to sylus it's because of caleb quite yet/mention what caleb's become?? idk lol so it just became more. gen comf

You've never had a habit of announcing yourself whenever you come to visit but you'd at least shoot him a text after he was notified either through a surveillance camera in his home, Mephisto, or one of the twins after you greeted him. However, this time all he got was the notification that you used the key he gave you. He watches on his phone as you make your way through the house to his bedroom, ducking into the bathroom.

He can tell by the way you're carrying yourself that something bad happened but he doesn't know how to respond, not right away at least as he's busy. He also knows that if he cuts the mission short just to be with you you'd be mad at him for abandoning "something important" and the best way to optimise his time with you and the ability to talk to you would be to just get his work done. So he does.

He resists the urge to watch you through the cameras some more as you've expressed wanting your privacy even if you are in his home so he just speeds back on his motorcycle (safely, of course). He doesn't usually have a habit of just ditching his things at the door but he does today because the sooner he can get to you, the better.

His heart melts when he sees how comfortable you look, despite the furrowed brows. He gently comes to your side, lifting the blanket to see a set of his pajamas on your form. He gently runs a hand along the side of your body, the silk doing nothing to hide the warmth of you from his palm. He leans over and gives you a kiss to your forehead, wanting to slide into bed next to you but also know he should get changed first.

After showering and changing, he's sure to give a couple of spritzes of your favourite cologne on him before pulling you into his arms. You bury your face into his chest, letting his presence soak into your tired bones as the scrunch on your face finally dissipates. He won't ask anything of it right now but you did tell him you'd be on a business trip for a while and he assumes the trip didn't go as well as you were hoping it would.

When the two of you wake up in the morning he'll insist on a slow day, ignoring his schedule just to provide you some more comfort. You don't really end up telling him what the problem is but he doesn't care - he just wants to be there for you right now, distracting you from the turmoil as he spoils you with his attention.

[tenshx]

❦ the red means i love you ❦

(chap. 1)

➪ chap. 2 • chap 3 • chap 4 • chap 5

𓃟 read it on ao3

❦ pairing: jackson hillwalker/cottonwood x fem!reader

❦ word count: 4.5k+ words

❦ summary: moving into a small village near cottonwood mountains was the best decision you’ve made for your peace. everything fell into place just as you expected. all except for the fact that you had caught someone’s attention since you began working at the local diner. meeting jackson cottonwood was definitely something you weren’t expecting, but you soon find out that he’s more than what meets the eye. somehow, you wish you never left home.

❦ authors note: haha,, guess what guys. i’ve fallen down the butchery rabbit hole & now i am plagued by thoughts of this game. can’t wait to see more of my boys on june 8. reader doesn’t play as the character in the game & is a completely different individual btw!! i’ll revise my summary later 🤠 im just rlly tired and wanted to post this before i exploded.

❦ possible triggers: A JOB!!, blood, mentions of weapons, injuries, kidnapping and implied stalking,

Living in a small village was your dream. It always has been, especially after being influenced at a terribly young age to chase a peaceful life.

The place you moved into was definitely what you had expected— tranquil, slow-paced with a family-driven community, and full of greenery and beautiful scenery you would’ve never imagined seeing a year ago in person.

It was everything you had seen in movies, an exact replication of the several years of research you put into move, but there was only one problem— boredom.

It was something that often caught up with you on the slower days once you began to settle down, the air still and time passing and dragging all at once. Ironic enough, you felt a bit homesick, missing the hustle and bustle of your previous living situation, the silence of the village far more deafening than the noises that bombarded the busy streets.

But you figured it was the process of settling. After all, a slow life is a peaceful one and you couldn’t deny that you were rarely stressed these days.

Today was mostly quiet in the diner you worked at. Old, dingy with a bit of wear and tear, but a classic nonetheless. Despite its age coming around, locals returned often and newcomers loved the restaurant, always posting a good review somewhere in the deep corners of social media.

At this rate, you could’ve clocked out early with how dead the place was and even at that, it wasn’t enough to describe the emptiness of your shift. Maybe you could convince your boss or ask your coworker to cover you for the time being. After all, she did owe you a solid for saving her ass last week, nearly begging on her knees to cover her shift because “her boyfriend had made plans and she was sure it was a proposal this time.” (It wasn’t.)

It was convincing and you almost warmed up to the idea until a sharp gasp from your coworker ripped your attention away from your cell phone. She clutched the newspaper with one hand, her other one covering her mouth dramatically.

“Another person missing?” Her voice was hushed and devastated as her and your boss huddled around the folded piece of paper. “Isn’t this the nineteenth person this year?”

Your boss scoffs, shaking her head in disapproval, “The village is becomin’ dangerous, I tell ya. These damn cops ain’t doing shit to keep us safe. Back then, I could walk another village down and still come back in one piece—“

Her words seemed to meld as you stepped closer to them, slowly drawn into their conversation, eyes falling on the bold letters.

“MALE, 27 YEARS, REPORTED MISSING.”

The rest was a bit more difficult to read, but the portrait of the individual sent a shiver down your spine as you observed his features. He looked relatively young; a bright smile, youthful features, and a kind look on his face.

Your coworker noticed your wandering eyes, moving closer as she shared the newspaper with you, hands crumpling the edges of it. “Nineteen and none of them were found! How is that possible?”

The missing persons cases have been the talk of the village recently, someone always related to each person that disappeared. At first, everyone assumed it was their loved ones having a change of heart and leaving the village to start a new life, but as more cases began to pile, the panic began to unfold.

Maybe that’s why the diner was so empty.

You’re not sure how to respond and your boss obviously felt the same way as the three of you read the paper, eyes glued to it. Only the sound of the music playing in the background filled the silence.

꧁

Somehow on the second to the last hour of your shift, you managed to build up the courage to ask your coworker to cover you. Luckily, despite the creepy ambience the place held an hour ago, she gladly agreed, more than willing to return the favor.

So with a smile and gracious thanks, you began to pack up your belongings, ensuring everything was in place before leaving the back room towards the front door of the diner, checking your phone.

However, you heard the sound of the bell chiming before you could reach the door, head rising as your gaze met with one of your usuals— the infamous Jackson Cottonwood. He was the town's heartthrob, all the girls fawning over him and everyone’s mother trying to set their daughter with him.

“Hey sweetheart, leavin’ so soon?” His voice sweet as honey and with that familiar joyful kick, called out to you. He was dressed in his usual plaid, suspended flannel along with dark jeans and his dirtied boots. His hair was parted, kissed by the wind as strands fell over his eyes in a crooked manner.

You offered him a smile, a bit awkward and shy as you nodded, “Yeah, decided to hit the hay early tonight. Slow shift.”

He hummed disapprovingly as this, hands on his hips and you let out a low snicker.

“What a shame. Thought I’d catch up with my favorite girl, but it seems like I missed the window,” He said in a sulky manner, a defeated look on his face. “Suppose the lord isn’t on my side today.”

He was always such a sweetheart, one of the customers you found yourself naturally attracted to. With a mouth like that, it was no wonder why he had so many girls wrapped around his finger. You’d be lying if you had told yourself you weren’t falling victim to the same syndrome.

“It is such a shame. Had you been here an hour earlier, maybe we would’ve had time,” you teased a bit.

“We got all the time in the world as long as you keep workin’ in this diner.”

You laugh at his words and he lets out a prideful and satisfied grin, brightening up his features. Before you could say anything more, you noticed Jackson's eyes travel towards the bar, your gaze following his and soon noticing both your boss and coworker whispering to each other. They both immediately separated from each other, realizing they had been caught red handed.

Jackson leaned down, whispering something under his breath but loud enough for you to hear, “Seems like we got an audience. Let me let ya go for the night, yeah? Shouldn’t keep you back more than I need to.”

You lock eyes with him as he straightens himself out and he spares you a warm smile, sending you off with a squeeze of your shoulder as he breezes past you to sit in one of the booths nearby. You stare at the back of his head for a moment before you shrug it off, deciding to go home. You were bound to encounter him eventually.

꧁

“So what’s the deal with you and Cottonwood?”

You look up from your receipts, your coworker folding her arms as she leaned against the bar. There was a shiteating grin on her face along with a devious twinkle in her eye that made you a bit anxious.

You shrug nonchalantly at her instigating question, continuing to sort receipts, “Not sure what you’re talking about.”

She rolled her eyes at your words, grabbing it from your hands. You shoot her a glare, reaching for the pieces of papers as she held it out of reach.

“Hey—!”

“C’mon. He’s not sweet-talking you for no reason. You’re the only server he butters up, maybe the only girl—“

“He does that for everyone! Please, just give me back—“

With a groan, she gently shoved the receipts back to you, unconvinced by your reasoning, “Uh-huh. That’s why you’re his “favorite girl”.”

There’s a teasing tone in her voice and you can’t help but feel embarrassed. She noticed the slight flush on your cheeks at her evidence, letting out an amused laugh.

“It’s really not like that,” you say, trying to organize the little pieces of paper on the table. “I barely know anything about him.”

It was the truth. Jackson Cottonwood was the biggest mystery of the town despite his popularity. No one knew anything of him besides his name and his mother who once sold meat in the market.

There were several rumors about his status that circulated around town: a farm boy who lived off of the grid, a mafia boss working undercover, an undercover FBI agent collecting data on the village or residing here to keep his name low and much more you couldn’t care to remember. Despite his years of living here (assumingly), nothing was ever truly confirmed. Everything that everyone thought they knew was merely speculation.

He was simply known as the handsome man who often dropped by in town three times a week. Nothing more and nothing less.

She was skeptical, but had no denial to it, “I guess, but still, he's all over you. As a taken women, I know when a man—“

Suddenly, your conversation was cut short by the familiar sound of the bells chiming, both your gazes falling on Jackson, who looked around for a moment before locking eyes with you, nodding towards your direction and heading towards the same booth he always sat at.

Your coworker let out a giggle, nudging your side almost playfully. In response, you shot her a look, eyes pleading for her to behave before she leaned towards you, murmuring something in your ear secretly.

“Speak of the devil. I would continue this conversation but loverboy is waving you down. Get to him before he forgets your tip, yeah?”

At this, you turn your head, finally noticing the smile on his face, his cheek resting on his hand as he looked straight at you. Before you could ask your coworker to take over, feeling suddenly shy and nervous at her accusations, she was already past the doors of the kitchen, leaving you alone to stand dumbly behind the counter.

With nowhere to run, you begrudgingly made your way to Jackson, trying to shake off the nerves.

“There she is,” his voice filled the silence of the diner, muffling out the music playing. “Prayed to the lord I’d catch you today and it seems like they were generous. Lucky me.”

He was always so flirtatious, knowing the right words to get into someone’s heart, and it usually didn’t affect you. Up until this point, at least. You suppose you could blame your coworker for planting nonsense into your head, now hyper aware of his words.

“It isn’t hard to miss me,” you attempt to reply casually, hoping your voice didn't sound as shaky as it felt. “I work here almost everyday.”

“Yeah, but after what happened last time, I assumed praying for our next encounter wouldn’t hurt. It’s always a blessing to be graced with your presence.”

Such a strange compliment. You didn’t think anyone liked you enough to pray for your company. Maybe you’d expect it from the local gas station crackhead, but here you were, receiving it from the village’s heartthrob.

“Maybe you would see me more if you came into town more often,” you fought back the redness creeping up your skin, feeling hot under your collar as you attempted to keep up.

A little smirk replaced the usual smile adorning his cheeks, “Oh? Since you’re askin’ so nicely, sweetheart, I might make an exception.”

With no one else in the diner but you and him, his words felt a little more intimate, voice low and inviting. You could be reading the room wrong, but it definitely felt tense in a way that left you choked up.

You wanted to run away, battling the urge to clock out and hopefully wash the nerves out of your system after taking a hot shower. Somehow, some higher entity out there seemed to grant your wishes. You almost think about kissing your boss’ feet as she walked from the back into the diner, speaking loudly on the phone as she processed a take-out order.

With the conversation now interrupted, you found a way to redirect it, fumbling for the notepad in your pocket as you spoke,”S-Sorry, let me take your order.”

Jackson didn’t seem to mind it much, humming under his breath before answering.

“Sure.”

꧁

The diner had gotten busy within the next thirty minutes, a group of loud college students walking into the establishment for a quick bite. Their boisterous laughs and voices reverberated against the walls of the diner and while it was rather deafening, you were somewhat thankful for the distraction. With the emotions storming in your mind, you figured you needed away time from Jackson.

Unfortunately, he didn’t share the same idea. He seemed to take his time with his meal, taking small bites and reading whatever worn out book he’s pulled out of his pocket as you tended to other customers. You assumed that it might’ve been a slow day for him.

“How was your meal?” You ask as you rack up his bill, eyes glancing at him before back at the paper.

“Good,” he simply replied, hand, leaning forward against the bar. “But the service was better.”

You let out a nervous laugh under your breath, unsure of how to respond. You were hoping that he wouldn’t talk to you for the rest of the night, wanting to rid of the tense feeling in your body, so you settle for that simple act of acknowledgment.

Then you tell him his total, always the same, his order never changing since he’s dined here half a year ago. At this point, you’d expect him to pay without asking. Your boss had even offered him the convenient option of leaving his payment by the table to save him from the trouble of walking over to the register, claiming he was a “loyal” and “truthful” customer.

But he doesn’t do that. Even with the offer, he never does.

He slides the bills over and you reach to grab them, looking up from the receipt. Finally, you seem to freeze, hand stopping midway as you notice his hands, a bit irritated looking as if it had been scratched or scrubbed relentlessly.

Then you notice the dirt trapped under his fingernails along with faint reddening hue along the edges. You can hear him talking, saying something about the boys who had come in earlier, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes away.

It isn’t until he moves to brush his hand against yours on the counter, you’re grounded back to reality, a sharp gasp leaving your mouth as you quickly pull your hand away.

His eyes seemed to widen at this, both of you staring at each other in awkward silence. You attempt to muster up an excuse, mouth opening and closing, but he beat you to it, clearing his throat.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he apologizes, breaking the silence. “Didn’t mean to startle you. You just seemed out of it, so I was just checking on ya.”

It takes you a moment to process his words before you shake your head, grabbing the bills from the counter.

“No, it’s fine. I’m…”

There’s an odd feeling in your chest, unsettling in a way that heightened your anxiety. Something didn’t sit right and you’re not sure what, feeling almost silly at your emotions. Then you realize that maybe you should lay off the horror documentaries, the paranoia finally catching up to you. So you decide to shake it off, letting out a breath that was trapped in your throat.

“..I’m fine. I think I’m just really tired,” you finish your sentence, offering him a tense smile.

He doesn’t seem convinced for a moment but lets it go (much to your relief).

“Well sweetheart, grab a coffee before you go home, yeah? Dangerous for you to walk alone in that state. Nights are always unpredictable.”

There’s a hint of concern in his voice and you try to wave it off, not wanting to pester him with such trivial scenarios. With your pepper spray and taser you bought half-off from the store four blocks down, you were sure you’d make it home mostly safe.

“I should be fine.”

“Just wanna make sure my girl is safe is all. I’d offer to walk you home but I haven’t finished running my errands,” he says casually, the nickname constant in his mouth. “Maybe next time I’ll pray hard enough to have the opportunity.”

You let out an airy giggle at his words, forgetting about the uneasy feeling almost immediately. You’re not even sure why you assumed the worst in him, chiding yourself a bit for believing he’d commit any heinous acts. He’s been nothing but kind to you from the start and truth be told, if he wanted to do something to you by now, he would’ve.

“Fat chance, but you can keep praying,” you tease and he lets out an amused laugh.

“Best believe I will. My lord hasn’t failed me yet.”

With that, you both catch up for a bit before another set of customers come in, cutting your session short. He nods at you, moving to push himself off of the counter.

“Well, that’s my cue,” he straightens out his shirt, shoving the receipt in his pocket before looking back at you. “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart. Remember what I told you.”

You roll your eyes, shooing him away, “Yes, I know. You’ll see me in one piece next time.”

He reacts to your answer, a prideful smirk forming on his face as he hums in approval, “Good girl.”

Your cheeks redden at his praise and thankfully, he's already turned away, heading out the front door when it happens. As much as you hated to admit it, you figured that maybe you did like Jackson more than you let on.

But only time could tell.

꧁

Time was definitely not on your side.

You hadn’t talked to Jackson since your last encounter with him a week and a half ago. It was out of the ordinary and sudden, his absence obvious as you found yourself waiting for his arrival. The more you waited, the more you wondered.

You did miss him in a sense. Whether it was because he established a routine for you, provided excitement in your life, or welcomed you with blossoming feelings for your relationship with him, you’d never know.

It didn’t make it easier that you hardly knew anything about him. Creating scenarios for his absence felt almost impossible, forcing yourself to dumb it down to simple reasonings. Maybe he was busy with whatever job he had or he got caught up in family business. After all, he was an adult man with adult responsibilities. Visiting his “favorite” girl in a diner shouldn’t be one of them.

In a blink of an eye, two weeks passed without his usual visits and the villagers began speculating. Considering the low population of the village, it wasn’t a surprise that people had caught on quickly, rumors spreading like uncontrollable wildfire.

“Maybe he found a purpose somewhere else. This place can only provide so much,” one woman gosipped, buying fresh eggs from a farmer in the market.

“Told you he was working for the government! Was always suspicious of that one,” Another man had claimed on a different day, hitting his rolled up newspaper against the arm of his friend. “Cottonwood is shady! It’s weird how we don't know anything about this fool when everyone knows everyone here!”

“Do you think he was the twentieth victim?” Your coworker theorizes one day, the diner slowing down after the dinner rush. You shudder at that, not wanting to think about that possibility.

The air is suddenly eerie, a sense of unease surrounding the area.

You just hope he hadn’t gotten hurt or abruptly moved away without saying goodbye.

꧁

You finally finish closing up, finalizing and straightening everything out before parting ways with your coworker who blew you a kiss, reminding you to call her before your shift tomorrow so you both could hit up the farmers market.

You spare her a tired smile, nodding at her words before walking towards the opposite direction and into the quiet streets of the village. With the recent news lately, the nights have been emptier, markets shutting down early in fear of the loose kidnapper. You did miss the liveliness of the night life here, but who could blame them? Nineteen people missing and not one body had been recovered.

The incident was easily labeled as the Cottonwood Mountain’s biggest case and probably its only one of its kind.

It had made big news on social media, several of your friends and family members calling you with warnings and concerns for your well-being. Despite the crimes occurring, you were much happier here than you were back home. So with a flash of your pepper spray and taser, you left them with the comfort that you were protected.

While scrolling through your phone, catching up on several messages, you were unexpectedly stopped by the blinding lights of police sirens, noticing the street you usually took blocked off by yellow caution tape and several police cars. There are a handful of officers around along with a few villagers scattered throughout the small, finite area.

You don’t have time to process what was happening before an officer approaches you, his voice hushed but authoritative.

“Sorry ma’am, the area is blocked off right now due to a distressed call. I know its an inconvenience but it’s currently prohibited to pass through the area at the moment.”

Truth be told, you were a bit annoyed at the inconvenience, wanting nothing but to be home after a long day at work, but you bite your tongue in hopes of ending your day on a good note.

“Do you know when everything will clear up?”

You were hoping he’d say soon or within the next thirty minutes, but the look on his face told you everything you needed to know. Defeated, you began to map out other routes you’ve taken once or twice whenever you wanted to take the scenic way home before he could give you a response.

“I don't have an ETA on it yet, ma’am. Is there any detour you could take?”

“Yeah,” is all you say and thank the officer, moving to reroute your path, already dreaming of the hot bath you’d take once you get home.

The alternative path was usually beautiful during the afternoon or the peak of sunrise and sunset, but right now, it felt dreadful as you navigated through the dark of the woods with nothing but your flashlight and the map in the back of your mind. It was an arguably faster way to get home, but also the more sketchy route which was why you avoided it at night.

You’re hyper aware and paranoid now, pepper spray in one hand and phone in the other as you treaded carefully along the dirt road. Every noise and odd gust of wind forced you to hold your breath, body trembling a bit at the silence of the area.

Regret began to weigh on your mind.

Maybe you should’ve waited for them to clear things out or call your coworker to crash at her place until everything settled, but you were already near your apartment, already too far into it to turn back. It would only be more trouble to track back. Only a few more turns and—

Speaking of turns, you rounded the corner of a tree, soon stopping in your tracks as your body paralyzed at the sight of red on the ground. The thick, viscous liquid stood out against the dark of the ground, splattered and smeared, taunting you as your heart dropped.

Your body seemed to move on its own as you redirected your flashlight along the dirt, the light providing you a better picture of streaks of a deep red stretching across the path, almost as if someone had been dragged.

Slowly, you look up, light flashing towards the direction and before you know it, you feel dizzy and nauseous at the sight of a body on the ground, lifeless and obviously, still very fresh, There’s a cleaver sliced through his neck, lodged deep into it, and then you see a pair of feet right next to the corpse, your breathing picking up as you come to the dreading realization that you had been caught red-handed.

Out of instinct, you shine your light on the perpetrator, wanting to at least get a good look of him before you booked it, but found your feet glued to the ground once you met with the familiar face of the villages heartthrob, staring back at you with a smile on his face. It doesn’t feel real and you’re almost convinced you're dreaming until he speaks, his voice unsettling, his usual jovial tone absent.

“I know I prayed to my lord I’d see you again soon, but I didn’t expect it in such an exciting way,” he let out an empty chuckle that sent shivers down your spine. He bent down to rip the cleaver out of the man's throat, the blood gushing out of his wound, pooling on the ground beneath him. Jackson stepped over his body carelessly before making his way to you. “I was hoping under some better circumstances, but who am I to complain? Seeing your pretty face is always such a privilege.”

Horrified, you slowly step back, trying to create distance between you both, knees weak as you try to gather the strength to run. It was a miracle you could even stand after such a gruesome sight.

“J-Jackson—“ your voice whimpers, shaky and mortified, but he immediately cuts you off, a wicked grin plastered over his usual handsome features.

“I like it when you say my name like that,” he comments gleefully, clearly enjoying the state you were in. “If I knew you’d sound as sweet as you do right now, I would’ve hoped you caught me sooner.”

You don’t hear the rest, your heart beating through your ears and your breathing speeding up as you continue to step backwards. Eventually, your hearing picks up, him closing the empty space despite you not being able to make out anything but his silhouette in the darkness.

“.. I told you nights were unpredictable, sweetheart. You should’ve listened.”

You feel your back hit something firm and for a moment, you believe it’s a tree, but once you register its body heat, you slowly come to the realization that Jackson didn’t come alone. Suddenly, you feel a blunt object strike the back of your head. 

For a few moments, you’re barely conscious, feeling an arm wrap around your middle as your body gives out, limp and out of your control. There’s an echo of laughter, menacing and mocking, before you slip out of reality, your life in the hands of the infamous serial killers of Cottonwood Mountains

tags: @delfinadolphin

[heartsforkatsuki]

rude.  ｡°✩ e. kirishima

pov ; your dad won’t give ur boyfriend of 8 years his blessing

pairing: eijiro kirishima x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, marriage, swearing, yearning lovesick kirishima!!!

word count: ~1.9k. song; rude by magic!

kirishima had fallen in love with you at first sight.

the minute he saw you in the entrance exams, he prayed you’d both get in together. he came up to you and wished you a very manly , loud, “good luck!!” with a hand on his hip and his other in a thumbs up.

you’d found it weird at first, and returned his enthusiasm with an awkward “thank you..?” and walked away.

now, 11 years later, looking back, you find it endearing, and can’t believe how long it took you to end up where you are now.

the minute he heard you woke up after the war, kirishima ran to your room and hugged you. not even 2 seconds before you could process him, he asked you to be his girlfriend and explained how he felt about you all along.

“[name], i’m so inlove with you. i have been since the entrance exams. i’ve been keeping that from you for three years.. so sorry. that wasn’t cool of me. i really, really hope you feeling the same way ‘cause if you don’t, i’ll bet i look pretty stupid right now.. you’re just so.. beautiful and captivating .. and strong. so strong.. and really cool just.. all around. what i’m trying to say is.. will you be my girlfriend? please? oh! dang, and i’m so so glad you’re okay! i should’ve started with that.. dang it.“

he said everything so rushed, you just sat there in your hospital bed blinking at him.

“i.. what?”

“its okay if you don’t feel the sa-“

you finally processed it all.

“no, no! i do! im sorry, it took me a minute to process.”

he rubbed the back of his head, looking at the floor. the tips of his ears were turning the same color as his hair now.

it was adorable.

“so…?”

“yes! yes, i’ll be your girlfriend!”

now, 8 years later, you’re still together and more in love than ever. you’ve succeeded at acquiring your dream job, and your boyfriend has been climbing up the hero rankings, sitting at #12! what could be better than this? there’s one problem though.. what’s been taking him so long to make you his forever?

it was approximately 8AM, you woke up to a message from your boyfriend saying he left early for work.

you sighed, reading through the text.

goodmorning, babe! if you’re reading this it’s cause you’re awake, which means you should have (hopefully) noticed your amazing, radical, the manliest of them all boyfriend is infact not laying down next to you! (that’s me btw) i had to go to work early babes, i’ll be home later! i love you baba girl😘😍😍!

you chuckled, texted back a heart and an okay , be safe before you went to check the calendar.

it was saturday.

eijiro almost never, ever worked on saturdays unless there was an emergency. he wouldn’t even check in at the agency.

so of course, the first thing you did was check the news.

nothing really, just small criminals and no big villains. what could he possibly be doing?

so the next thing you did was check his location. not because you’re crazy, but you were genuinely worried. you never ever checked his location, you didn’t need to. but he insisted to give you it just in case, so you never had to doubt.

currently, he was on super close to Osaka, and it said he’d been driving there for about two hours now.

Osaka? What the hell is in Osa…

your parents. your parents lived in Osaka, nobody else you guys knew lived there. when you saw exactly where he was, you saw he was literally pulling up on your parent’s street.

what the hell?

eijiro pulled up in the driveway to your parents house, his palms clammy on the steering wheel.

he’d been thinking about doing this for a while now, but he knew just how your dad felt about him.

your dad was a very old-fashioned man, didn’t exactly love the idea of you dating, much less marrying, a hero.

he didn’t want there to be an accident, only to end up with a depressed, grieving, hurt daughter.

and he made sure you knew it.

“he’s gonna do something stupid one day, [name], and then you’ll regret it.“

you’d always ignored him, and eijiro was forever grateful.

he tried as hard as he could to change your dad’s views on heroes, explaining how passionate he was, and why he decided on it in the first place.

he never really budged though.

now, kirishima was standing at your parents’ doorstep at 8am on a saturday morning, in his best suit, tailored just for this moment, and a big bouquet for your mom.

he brushed his hands on his dress pants and pushed the doorbell button.

he stood there for a minute looking at his shoes, until he heard the lock turn.

when he looked up, he was met with your dad’s resting bitch face. except now it was ten times worse, seeing as it was 8 in the morning.

“ah.. goodmorning, mr. [surname].”

“eijiro? it’s 8am.” your dad crossed his arms, spreading his feet.

“i know.” he lifted his hand, handing the flowers over to your father. “those are for mrs. [surname].”

“thank you? why are you here, young man?” he scowled.

“i came because i wanted to ask you.. for your blessing.” he rubbed the back of his neck, “to marry [name].”

“i love your daughter more than anything, and i’ve kept her waiting for 8 years now. i’ve been inlove with her for 11 years now, and i want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

your dad scoffed to that, “which i’m sure won’t be long, eijiro. your job is gonna end up with my daughter heartbroken.”

“sir, please, i’m safe! i love your daughter, plea—”

“over my dead body. no. until i die, you aren’t marrying my daughter.” he slammed the door in front of eijiro.

“fuck..” he sighed, running a hand through his hair before walking back to his car.

“I just don’t get why he’s so rude to me.” kirishima groaned, placing his beer on the table infront of him.

“he’s just an asshole dude, ignore him.” bakugo responded, rolling his eyes.

“hey! that’s my future father in law you’re talking about.” he whined, taking a swig of beer.

“he won’t be if you keep paying attention to the bullshit he’s spouting.” the blonde picked up his own beer, drinking it.

“dude, i’m gonna marry her anyways.. i just need to convince him.” kirishima insisted, his hands balling into fists.

the week after that, kirishima did the same thing as he did that last saturday morning, he bought a brand new suit and showed up with an bigger bouquet.

the door creaked open, and he made sure to get the first word in

“can i have your daughter for the rest of my life? please. i love her, i can provide for her as i always have, and i’ll give my life to make her happy.”

he prayed your father would say yes, chanting it in his head.

“no.” he slammed the door, again.

“hey babe, why does your dad hate me so much?”

it was now two weeks after the first visit, and you hadn’t asked him about why he went to go see your parents yet.

“he doesn’t hate you…” you curled on the couched next to him, stroking his hair, “he’s just looking out for me, babe.”

“why does he have to hate me in order to look out for you?” he pouted.

“he doesn’t hate you babe!”

the following week, he repeated his attempts.

another new suit, and a bigger bouquet. he stood at the door, determined to walk away with your fathers blessing this time.

one thing changed though, this time your father didnt open the door, your mom did.

“Oh. goodmorning, mrs. [surname]. how are you?” he asked, lifting the bouquet to her.

“goodmorning, eijiro. i’m well, thank you for asking, and for the flowers dear.” she smiled.

“is mr. [surname] home?” he asked, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants again.

“yes, he is. let me get him for you.”

she stepped away from the door, and soon, your dad appeared. his expression was unreadable this time.

“you again?” he grunted.

“yes, sir. i know you’ve said no—three times now—but i love your daughter. i’m going to marry her. with or without your blessing… but i’d rather it be with.”

your father stayed silent.

“i’ve never loved anyone the way i love her. she’s the first and only person i’ve ever truly wanted to build a future with. i want to wake up next to her every morning. i want to take care of her, support her, grow old with her. and i promise you, with everything i have, i’ll protect her.”

your dad sighed, long and heavy.

“…you’re a persistent little bastard, huh?”

kirishima swallowed, “only for her, sir.”

your father stared at him for a long moment before stepping aside.

“come in.”

kirishima blinked, stunned. “w-what?”

“you heard me. come in.”

he followed him inside, nervous and stiff as a board.

they talked for over an hour. about life, about you, about the future. your father asked hard questions, challenged him, and at one point even asked if he was truly willing to give up being a hero someday if it came down to choosing between his life or yours.

without hesitation, kirishima answered, “i’d choose her. every time.”

eventually, your dad nodded slowly and let out another sigh.

“…fine. you have my blessing.”

kirishima nearly collapsed from relief.

“but you better not make her cry. not once. or i swear—”

“never, sir. never.”

a few days later, you came home to find a trail of glowing red petals leading to your backyard. confused, you followed them.

and there he was.

in a perfectly fitted black suit, holding a small, red velvet box in his hand, his other hand tucked nervously into his pocket.

the yard was lit up with fairy lights, and small candles floated in a heart-shaped pond he’d made with some help.

“[name],” he said, voice cracking just a little, “i’ve loved you since the day i met you. you’re everything to me. my best friend, my strength, my peace. i want to spend every second of my life making you feel as loved as you make me feel.”

he got down on one knee.

“will you marry me?”

you cried. of course you did.

dang it, he already messed up the first rule.

but you said yes so fast, he didn’t even finish opening the box before you tackled him with a hug.

later that night, you sat together under the stars, your head on his shoulder, your hand in his—now with a sparkling ring on it.

“so,” you whispered, “what changed my dad’s mind?”

he smiled and kissed your forehead. “i just told him the truth. and refused to leave until he believed it.”

you giggled. “you’re so stubborn.”

“only for you, babe.”

[currrentfixations]

the cut that always bleeds — park hu-min

pairing: park hu-min (baku) x gotaksister!reader

genre: angst (lmao im sorry)

word count: 1.6k words

note: hi this is my first fic pls bear with me idk what i’m doing 😭 also pls ignore if some stuff doesn't make sense 🙏 okay anyways enjoyyy!

part 2!

"hey park hu-min, it's time to grow up and realise that your actions have consequences on those around you as well!" the words tumbled out of your mouth before you even realised. you knew — no you know it wasn't his fault but you didn't know who else to blame.

15 minutes earlier

8pm, hyun-tak was supposed to be home by now. ever since that stupid accident you'd made him promise that he wouldn't stay out past 6pm. it was only the two of you and your mother and if anything happened to him, you wouldn't know what to do.

BANG BANG BANG

hyun-tak? you stood up so fast, it made you dizzy. you ran towards the door, almost knocking your mother’s favourite vase over in the process.

BANG BANG BANG.

god, was he always this impatient? you knew your brother wasn't impatient. but the boy who stood on the other side of the door, it was just like him.

BANG BANG BANG

"hold on i'm —" your words died in your mouth after seeing who stood on the other side of the door.

park hu-min.

you hadn't seen him in ages, he looked different — older, more tired, like he had already seen what the world had to offer and was ready to give up.

you both stood still for a few seconds, taking each other in. granted hu-min had seen you many times over the past year, you just didn't know about it.

"are you gonna let me in?" hu-min's gruff voice broke the silence.

he even sounded different, like he'd been screaming at the sky to leave him alone, to let him live.

you snapped out of your trance. who did he think he was? speaking to you as if you had just seen each other last week, as if he hadn't ripped your heart into a million little shreds.

"no. what do you want?" hu-min stared at you for a few seconds before speaking again.

"fine, is hyun-tak here?" he sighed. he didn't want to argue with you, you could see it in his body language — his shoulders slumped, like he was tired of fighting.

"he's not with you?" — your stomach dropped. fuck. now you were worried. if he was out and with hu-min, you wouldn't have been bothered that much. no matter how much you resented him, he had kept hyun-tak safe whenever they were together.

hu-min saw the fear on your face and in that moment, he knew all you were thinking about was that day.

it was a day he'd never forget, even if he wanted to. the smell of disinfectant and antiseptic combined with blood. hu-min still remembers the exact moment he had seen his best friend laying on the hospital bed — hyun-tak's eye swollen almost to the size of a golf ball, cuts scattered across his face and his knee broken and bloody.

then he saw you with tears streaming down your face. you were seeking the comfort of your brother who couldn't give it to you because he wasn't awake yet.

through your blurry eyesight you had locked eyes with hu-min as he was walking towards you and hyun-tak, but you — cold as ever — wiped your tears, got up and walked past him without saying a word. and that was the last time you had spoken to or seen hu-min.

"hey ___, don't worry i'll bring him back safe" hu-min spoke, softly gripping your shoulders, worried that even the slightest increase in decibel would set you off.

god you almost believed him for a second, and you really wanted to believe him but how could you when the last time he'd brought your brother back to you, it wasn't safely, it was the farthest thing from it. you should believe him because it wasn't hu-min who had done anything wrong, it was geum seongje — that bastard.

"you? bring him back safely, what a joke" you scoffed, shrugging his hands off. why were you being so mean? you shouldn't be like this, but you couldn't help it, everything you had pent up for the last year was about to come out in the form of word vomit.

"he got hurt a year ago because he was hanging out with you hu-min!" hurt flashed across hu-min's face which should have been a signal enough for you to stop.

"let me come in please —" he pleaded "then you can scream at me, kick me, hit me, whatever you want, just please let me come in".

you pulled the door all the way open, allowing him to step inside. you open your mouth to speak but before you can say anything hu-min cuts you off.

"i know, i know and i'm sorry. i have felt nothing but guilt for what happened every single day"

you felt your anger rising by the second. "oh you're sorry, that's it? that means everything is okay?" your voice started to tremble.

"do you understand how gut-wrenching it was to hear the doctor say "i'm afraid your athlete days are over" to hyun-tak?". you could never forget the coldness of the hospital room and the way your brother quickly smiled to hide the pain, thanking the doctor for helping him.

hu-min's breathing quicken and you were starting to feeling terrible. you needed to stop, it was more important to find your brother than to argue right now. but you needed to get this out of your system, for your own sanity.

"do you know how depressed hyun-tak was after that? no? of course not because why would he show you? but i knew, i knew how he'd come home after school everyday and just stay in his room until it was time to go to school again".

crap. he wasn't supposed to know that, but you were angry. angry at the fact that your brother got hurt, angry that your brother hadn't been speaking to you during this time but he had been speaking to the person who had gotten him into this situation.

hu-min was starting to get annoyed — he knew, of course he did. hyun-tak is his best friend. they didn't need to tell each other, they just had that understanding — and any other time he would have never gotten annoyed with you but this with baek-jin and his friends who kept getting hurt and the constant trouble, he's had enough.

he takes a few steps towards you — "i am well aware ___, i fucked up okay. no amount of sorries will ever change that fact but i do not need this from you. not right now." he spat.

"not right now?! then well, please tell me when is convenient for you" your chest was rising and falling fast, tears threatening to come out.

shit.

hu-min froze, noticing the tears you were fighting to hold back. he was hating himself at that moment for almost making you cry, and at the same time you were hating yourself for saying hurtful things to the boy you love.

he took a deep breath and cupped your cheeks, trying to look you in your eyes but you refused to look at him. you just couldn't.

"i am trying to make it right, i have broken contact with everyone, hyun-tak included and joined to union to get baek-jin and his lapdogs off the people i care about".

"that includes you" he muttered, hoping you won't catch what he said but you did and your chest began to hurt realising what he meant. he wasn't mad at you, he never was.

you were about to lean into his touch, when it registered what he had said.

"you joined the union? are you fucking crazy!" your words coming out harsher than you intended.

you knew how much hu-min hated the union. it was the reason hyun-tak had gotten injured in the first place. how could he join the place that ruined everything?

pushing his hands off your face, you told him to get out. your head was starting to hurt and you knew you couldn’t take much longer of this.

"what?"

"please just bring my brother back and stay out of my life" you didn't mean it — not really — but right now, he was the only one who you could take your anger out on.

"okay" hu-min said barely above a whisper. opening the door, hu-min stepped out, the sound of it slamming shut echoing.

fuck. what were you doing? you weren't done, there was still so much you hadn't said to him. so much you hadn't asked him, like why he didn’t reach out to you, why he left you alone when you needed him the most, did he feel the same way you feel.

you ran outside, hoping to continue the sort of conversation you were having, hoping to reach a resolution. but when you saw him, half way through the alley, all that came out was "hey park hu-min, it's time to grow up and realise that your actions have consequences on those around you as well!"

you wanted — needed him to realise that joining the union wasn't the right choice.

you waited. hoping, praying he'd turn around and come back and say something, anything to you or at least stop. but he didn't.

you turned around, suddenly aware of the cold gravel beneath your feet. you made your way inside and once you had, the tears started and they wouldn't stop.

you never blamed him, not once, you just didn't know what to do. maybe you were angry at him but that had passed a long time ago. or maybe you were still angry at him, not because of your brother, but because he was holding the burden entirely on his own.

or, deep down, you were angry because somewhere it felt like he'd walked away from you and he never even tried to make it right.

hopefully that was angsty enough 😭 lmk what you thought!

part 2 here!

[strawberry-nugget]

Summary: You ask Katsuki to make you eggs

Tags // Warnings: Fluff, comfort, a little bit of insecure Katsuki. All characters are 20+

Paring: Bakugo Katsuki x reader

“Katsuki, please please please can you please fry some eggs for me? Pleeeease?”

Katsuki blinks his eyes into yours like he’s got a tick. Nose scrunched, brows furrowed and lips pressed and pulled in a frown so deep— his stink face is immaculate, always has been. However the confusion lies as to why it’s directed to you.

Your expression is quite on the contrast of his. Pursed out pouty lips, nostrils flared and dragged downwards by your pout, eyebrows looking like they’ve taken a turn downwards and eyes so big and gleamy, like you’re seeing stars.

Katsuki shakes his head and one hand covers his eyes, the pads of his fingers rubbing at his temples a little too hard.

When he came home from his shift fifteen minutes ago, you were simply sprawled on the couch, watching one of your shows. He had just managed to get out of the shower with the towel still on his head when he found you in the kitchen; one hand holding two eggs, the other holding a pan and the annoying repeating sound of the voice of a TikTok cook in the background talking about how easy it is to fry eggs.

Katsuki knows you’re scared shitless of frying your own eggs. He also knows you’d never ask him to cook anything for you—you’d only let him cook for you if he absolutely wanted to or had enough energy for it. So if you’re asking it means you’re craving and Katsuki would never say no to whether you begged for it or not.

In guttural essence, his expression isn’t a reaction to the fact that you’re asking for something. It’s a reaction of the fact that you've said please so many fucking times.

And yes, even though he loves hearing you beg like this it’s only ever in the context of the baby making process—not this one.

Wait, has he done something wrong to upset you? Nooo, it can’t be, right? No actually, never mind scratch that, he's gonna push that thought aside and make you your eggs, because your face right now is too cute to be real.

“Whatchu have to beg for like that, babe? ‘Course I’ll cook eggs for you”

Your cheeks are immediately trapped between his thumb and pointer and your pout furthers forward him. Katsuki gives you an awkward, pressed-lip smile as he squeezes your face twice.

Aw you look so cute, why is he in his head so much!?

“Oh thank you Katsuki” you jump in joy, inching in closer so you can kiss his cheek with the eggs and the pan still in your arms. Katsuki has to hide the fact that his cheeks and ears are burning at this simple, little peck “you always make them perfect and im scared to do it myself”

Normally, he’d whine, tell you they’re just eggs that they can’t hurt you and you shouldn’t be afraid of them. But today he just takes the eggs and the pan from your hands and sets them on the stove. Today he kisses your cheek back. All sloppy, just how he likes it.

But as he settles for pouring some oil onto the pan and turning the stove on, he remains somewhat bothered, when he knows he shouldn’t be.

He just… doesn’t like the fact that you thought you had to beg for him to make your eggs. You never ask him to do things for you! Like the time you fixed the kitchen sink pipes by yourself, or the time you bought a whole ass new bed and had it set and made by the time he came home from patrol. Or the time you installed all the at home gym equipment by yourself, or—or. How he comes home to his favourite food always being made and served at the table!

He secretly gets so jealous every time he listens to Kirishima mumble about how he does these things for his girlfriend despite also working full time as a hero!

It’s unfair, you don’t have to beg him to cook you eggs, he would get down on his hands and knees and swipe the floor clean if you told him to.

Yet, you hop on the counter —keeping a safe distance from the pan— and sway your legs back and forth for a few seconds, your face incredibly love sick as you watch Katsuki rampage through the fridge to pull out an avocado, some cherry tomatoes and some orange juice.

Though, to you Katsuki looks rather… quiet. 

The little towel bundle he has on his hair hasn’t moved an inch further than the ones you make would do; your heart tugs at the way the edges rest behind his ears, making them protrude and fold outwards—so so cute. But normally he would have tossed the towel by now, he would be whining about how his ears hurt. And he definitely isn’t. He’s way too focused on watching the oil heating up in the pan.

You hop off the counter, ignoring the suspicious little look Katsuki throws over his shoulder as you creep toward him. He’s hunched ever so slightly over the stove, brow furrowed like he’s concentrating way too hard on something as simple as frying an egg.

You slide your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your cheek between his shoulder blades and giving him a slow, sleepy squeeze and just a teeny tiny kiss on his spine.

“I know you’re so tired from working baby, im so sorry” you whisper “but I’m really craving eggs, I’d make them on my own if I wasn’t scared of the whooshing sounds and the hot oil splatters”

“Hm” he grunts and you don’t see it, but he’s pouting as well.

Because why the hell are you apologising right now? 

“Katsu,” you mumble, your voice muffled against his shirt. “Why’re you being weird?”

He tenses a little in your hold, like he’s been caught. “M’not bein’ weird,” he mutters.

“You’re definitely being weird,” you hum, squeezing tighter and rocking left and right on your heels, swaying him with you.

He exhales hard through his nose, setting the spatula down with a little clatter and resting his hands lightly over yours where they’re wrapped around his middle.

He turns in your arms then, finally facing you fully. You barely have time to look up before his hand is cupping your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek. His face is closer now, expression a little bashful but full of warmth.

“I like takin’ care of you,” he says quietly, eyes so kind and yearning. “More than anything. Hear me?”

You lean into the touch, smiling so sweetly it nearly makes him combust.

“I know you don’t want a man to do shit for you, but you take care of me a lot. I wanna take care of you too”

He sighs, then covers your hand where it rests over his back with his own. His thumb brushes slowly across your knuckles.

“You shouldn’t have to beg for shit like this,” he mumbles. “Just—made me think. That’s all.”

You lift your head a little. “Think about what?”

“You don’t ask for anything. Ever. You do a million things on your own and never expect help. Then you give me the biggest puppy eyes just to make eggs.” His voice dips, like he’s embarrassed by even saying this out loud. “Makes me feel like I’m not doing enough for you.”

You’re quiet for a beat, just holding him tighter.

“Katsuki,” you whisper. “You do so much for me. Every single day. Just ‘cause I don’t ask doesn’t mean I don’t see it.”

He shifts again, a little awkward. Like he wants to believe you but doesn’t know how. His brows furrow and he pouts, ever so slightly. But you can read him! He isn’t slick at all right now!

“Katsuki- what, oh my god!” You laugh and laugh right into his face, cracking the seriousness of the moment, in an attempt to cheer him up. It’s inevitable for him to not get in his head and frown over something ever so small and silly. You love him for that, honestly. You understand exactly where this stems from and maybe, you were a little bit dramatic when you asked for the eggs. You understand how it contradicts with how mushy you are right now.

“I was just being cute! I just want boyfie-made eggs babe, no need to be insecure because of this”

“I know you were bein’ cute,” he grumbles, thumb tracing slow circles over your knuckles. “That’s the problem.”

You blink, confused.

“Since when is me being cute a problem?” you ask, looking up at him, lips all pouty again.

He groans like you’ve personally tried to end his life. You know he's gonna circle the same issue just for a little more and you’ll let him. He deserves to feel reassured as well. Heavens know he always reassures you.

“It’s not—fuck, it’s not a problem, alright?” he says, tilting his head to glance at you from the side. His expression softens the second he meets your eyes. “It’s just… you asked so sweet, like you really didn’t think I’d do it unless you begged or somethin’. And that’s what’s weird.”

You go quiet, hugging him tighter, your hands bunching slightly in the soft fabric of his shirt.

“Katsuki,” you whisper, cheek pressed to his chest again. “I know you’d do anything for me. That’s why I asked. Not ‘cause I thought you wouldn’t. I just… I wanted to be a little spoiled today. By you. And I like whining”

He stiffens again for just a moment—then melts.

His hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, pulling you in close as he leans back into you just a little. His voice is low, rough at the edges, but gentle.

“You don’t gotta do that whole act, baby. You could walk up to me and say, ‘Hey, bitch boy, make me eggs,’ and I’d still do it.”

You giggle into his chest, and he lets out a soft breath that’s dangerously close to a laugh.

“I wouldn’t call you bitch boy. But I do like acting all dramatic,” you grin, lifting your head to press a kiss between his shoulder blades. “And I like when you take care of me.”

“I like takin care of my girl,” he says quietly. “I don’t like you lifting a finger to do anything”

You lean into the toucht and his heart catches dangerously in his chest.

“Then shut up and make me my eggs, bitch-boy” you laugh and move your hand inside his vicious grip to slap his ass playfully.

Ughhhhh he just loves you so much.

That gets a real laugh out of him, bright and short and perfect. He kisses your forehead, then your nose for good measure. Then both of your cheeks.

Then, Katsuki turns back to the stove, cracks the egg over the pan—and the sizzle that follows is absolutely vicious. You flinch immediately.

“Jesus!” you squeak, clinging to his back like the egg just pulled a knife on you. “Why does it sound like that?! That’s not normal!”

“It’s a hot pan, dumbass.” Katsuki snorts, taps your thigh just enough to signal you to jump, climb his back like he's gonna give you a piggyback ride. You do without hesitation.

“It sounds like it wants to fight me.”

“It is fightin’ you. It knows you were too scared to fry it yourself.”

“I was right to be scared!”

He shakes his head, shoulders shaking with laughter as he calmly adjusts the heat. You peek over his shoulder with wide eyes, cautiously watching the egg cook like it might jump out of the pan and chase you.

But you don’t let go of him—not even when he shuffles slightly to flip it. You just stay latched onto his back like a little backpack, whispering commentary about the egg’s anger issues.

“That egg’s got beef with me,” you murmur, narrowing your eyes. “I felt it in the vibes.”

Katsuki lets out a wheezy little laugh and reaches back to squeeze your thigh where it’s curled around his hip. “Yeah? Then it better square the fuck up, ’cause I’m not lettin’ it lay a hand on you.”

You gasp dramatically. “My hero!”

“Damn right.”

The sizzling starts to die down as the egg firms in the pan, and your grip around his neck loosens just a bit, your head growing heavier where it rests on the slope of his shoulder. Your arms are still draped around him, but now they’re more relaxed, less clingy—just naturally wrapped around the person you love the most.

A moment later, you let yourself slip down from his back and he groans at the action like youve slipped away far from his grasp.

Katsuki carefully slides the eggs onto a plate, then adds the little tomatoes he sliced and the avocado he fanned out like it’s a competition. The orange juice is already poured. He even put a sprinkle of chili flakes on top, just the way you like.

You blink sleepily as he turns to you, one brow raised, holding the plate like he just wants to kiss you stupid. And you let him, mushing his head with yours, smooching your lips onto his with soundly mwah-mwah-mwahhhhs!

You laugh, grabbing the towel still perched on his head and yanking it with both hands. It flops forward and hits him right in the face.

“Hey—!” he tries to protest, muffled under the fabric.

You wiggle it like you’re wringing out a dishcloth. “Why is this still on your head, huh? You tryna give yourself cauliflower ears again?”

Katsuki finally yanks it off and throws it on the counter, grumbling like an old man. “It was warm, okay?”

You gasp. “You were being cozy! You softie!”

“Shuddup!” He whines, that cracked out yearning thing that you adore “sit down and eat your eggs!”

~All rights reserved: @/strawberry-nugget, 2025. Please do not copy, over write or steal my work.

Likes, reblogs and comments are all appreciated equally

[ixxivvv]

small in your coat.

zayne, sylus, caleb.

(written by me in 15+hr makeup and contacts crouching on the station floor as i wait for the last train after a shitty night club shift, yearning for a dream to make me feel protected, in their coat.)

-⛄️ zayne ❄️-

made from well tailored houses, all his jackets had structure to them. shoulders wide and thick fabrics.

"Heading home." he sent to you, in mind you are waiting in his home. your night together, sleeping in his place for tonight for no particular reason was going to begin after a while of being busy with each others work: and you couldn't wait.

you explore his apartment in curiosity, a place you are familiar with now. his room still felt like you were entering his world. no dust, everything was in order and tidy. it still felt so wide and neat, in contrast to your casual attire now.

you opened his cabinets and drawers, observing the entire thing. you find bits and pieces of your favorite memories together- the shirt he wore to your first date together, the sweater you gifted him, and all of his coats on the hanger. reaching for one, the classic burberry trench coat and resting it on your shoulders. it just felt like a back hug- he may be cold but only you know how warm and kind he was. it nest heavy on you, nearly dragging the ends to the floor, the sleeves too long too. in his pocket, something crinkles- a piece of bonbon chocolate and a candy. it made you smile, as you look into the mirror.

as you felt him, the entrance door opens. "darling? im home..." you scurry over, "forgetting" to take your new cape on. "welcome home! :)"

he expresses that micro expression he often does- his pupils widening and looking to the side, almost processing his next move. but this time, he couldn't find words. was it too much? you tilt your head, peeping into him. ".. zayne?"

he managed to look at you, then suddenly grips your shoulders tight. he gasps and flushes,

"... did you miss me that much?"

- 🐦‍⬛sylus 🚗-

his biker jacket, thick leather with a thrashing pattern in his signature colors. the one you hold on tight to from his back when you two are on a joyride. in fancy outings with a dress he order made, he subtly pushes you forward: to show his beautiful girl, to lead the way and only when you seem lost he stands by your side.

he rarely showed his back, which is why you enjoyed joyrides. sylus hasn't taken you out for a dinner or party or anything for a while due to discourse and in fighting between groups. arrests, leadership changes, moving positions and disagreements. it was hectic and n109 zone was not safe now- less people in the streets. he kept you inside which is fine, but even without luke and kieran in the home, only mephisto kept you company for now.

eye rolling media coverage that would never have enough air time of what truely happened, social media discourse of what happened...

"mephisto-h... where is sylus?" and the high tech shows a display of his current location. still out there in some meeting with some people you wouldn't want to know. its all so hectic just looking at it. the cons of being a "mafia boss boyfriend's girlfriend" trope is going to your day job and watching people at work come and go, no idea of anything and the kind of people youve come to known and their struggles. its all just outsiders. you loved sylus, you really did, and more than the thrilling adrenaline. a kind of world which youve come to know that he is there in because he can't live anywhere else. the kind of loneliness and disconnect from people that "don't watch the news" or it's "too dark".

your heavy legs dragged you into his closet. opening the doors, it smelled of his cologne and dry cleaners. but you reached out for the only jacket that dosen't particularly smell of anything- his biker jacket. its made with protective plates and leather. it faintly smelled of his cologne and petrol. maybe you did miss the thrill of when you first got together. or the wind.

"kitten?" sylus walks in, surprising you.

"sylus? you were home?" "why, unhappy to see me? well, i can clearly see you wanted to see me." he chuckles and looks into you lovingly, like a kitten caught in a ball of yarn. caught redhanded, so small in his jacket all curled up like a blanket. he lifts you up, bridal style- so adorable, pretending to not miss him with your words but so clearly did.

sylus decided in that moment, that the discourse needs to end- to bring a sense of "peace" back.

- ✈️ caleb 🍎-

(soo theres a canon audio that you steal his jacket aand... well this will be based off that 😭)

caleb called you to eat dinner from downstairs- "y/n! dinners ready~!" he said so happily, he enjoyed cooking but he loves "playing" house with you.

but you weren't coming down, so he placed the pan in the middle of the table and headed upstairs? where were you now? werent you just taking a shower? still in the shower prohaps? however his instincts, senses you were in his room. his big footsteps, open to a sight he didn't expect.

you were already changed with no makeup, but you had your hands behind your back, staring into his closet like an art piece.

"did you, find my clothes interesting?" you took back by surprise, eyes widening. he informs you that dinners ready and guides you downstairs around your shoulder. you seemed to be in thought still, "i wonder whats in her head again." caleb ponders.

as you sit across him from the dinner table, chewing - still in thought. he couldn't leave it.

"pipsqueak, whats on your mind?" ".. nothing. pass the soy sauce?" his eyes lose its spark.

as he showered that night, washing his hair down in his own thoughts. he could feel himself getting anxious, triggering his own core and attempting to coax himself out of it. hes practicing not to doubt you so much.

he sighs as he steps out the shower in a single towel wrapped around his waist, just to see you sitting in the corner of his bed again, dangling your legs. you just stared into him, only with one thing. his colonel jacket hauled on your tiny shoulders. you were sitting on the long tail of the trench, the back stitching that resembles mechanical wings rests on your back. your soft features contrasted with the black color that faintly smelled of iron.

"...", he had no words, whether in disbelief or just how small you were in his build. if you stood up, the coat might drag across the floor. you fury your brows, sensing that he didn't enjoy the gesture. it was childish, but the details on his coat was impressive- no fraying or loose thread, some signs of wear. it sat heavy on you, emotionally and physically.

but caleb also adored it- his brute power and fear in the jacket suddenly seemed softer in your touch. how he'd just let you.

".. you like the colonel that much? or the owner of this uniform?" you touch the gold stitching, teasing him a bit more.

".. then, i must bow down to the colonel." he gets on his knee, softly taking your foot. he was still in his towel, but you knew what was going to happen-

and you loved it. crossing your arms, roleplaying your power. caleb smirks and places a kiss on your ankle.

".. you have the full authority to command me. i shall serve you, my entire body.." as he kisses up your foot and thigh- only you can do this to the actual colonel himself.

[huxhsz]

🍎 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ikaw lang

— synopsis: caleb is back, but he's different. he looks the same, talks the same—but something about him feels just out of reach, like a melody you can’t quite remember. the boy who used to piggyback you home, who cut apples for you without complaint, who always found a way to annoy and protect you in equal measure—he's not here anymore. and yet, as you watch him silently peel an apple, his hands steady and sure, you realize something. you still want him. even if he’s changed. even if he's not the same. because no matter what, he’s never leaving you again.

— note/s: first post on tumblr im a bit intimidated HAHA wrote this while listening to ikaw lang by nobita and also realized i NEED filo caleb. save me filo caleb save me I NEED TO WRITE A FILO COLLEGE/HS AU OF HIM SO BAD

cross-posted on ao3! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

caleb has changed, you realize grimly.

he sounds the same, looks the same, talks the same—

but he's not your caleb.

he's not the same caleb who used to piggyback you home after school, he's not the same caleb who would use you as his fake girlfriend to ward off his fangirls, he's not the same caleb who would slice apples for you because you would always complain about being lazy... no.

when you look at this man's—this stranger's—face, you do not see your caleb. you see fleet colonel caleb of the farspace fleet, you see a soldier hardened by war, a man who has seen too much and lost even more.

"—pipsqueak? pipsqueakk— earth to pipsqueak? oh, there she is! hello, what has gotten you so out of it? you're staring, y'know."

caleb raises an eyebrow, leaning back against the kitchen counter like he belongs there. like this is normal. like you haven’t been standing here, silently cataloging every little thing that’s different about him.

"am i?" you blink, tilting your head, feigning ignorance. "you sure it’s not you just being self-conscious?"

"as if," he scoffs, and there—there it is. a glimpse of him, of the boy you knew, the boy who used to flick your forehead whenever you got too smug.

but then it’s gone, swallowed up by something older, something colder.

his fingers tap against the counter, a steady rhythm. you used to recognize all his nervous habits. the way he’d scratch the back of his neck when lying, the way his nose scrunched when he was about to say something stupid. this? this tapping? you don’t know this one.

"well?" he prompts. "you gonna tell me why you’re looking at me like i grew a second head?"

"you’d be lucky if that happened. then you’d have twice the brain cells," you retort automatically. safe. easy. the kind of banter you used to have.

it works. he rolls his eyes, lips twitching like he wants to smirk. "real original. you workshopping that one while zoning out?"

you shrug, moving to the fridge. "maybe."

his eyes follow you. you feel them, just like you feel the weight of his presence in this space that suddenly feels too small. he was gone for so long, and now he’s here, standing in your kitchen like nothing’s changed.

like everything hasn’t.

"you still eat those awful store-bought apple slices?" he asks, nodding toward the fridge.

"mm. got tired of cutting them myself."

he exhales sharply—something between a laugh and a sigh. "figures. lazy as ever."

you expect him to leave it at that, but then, before you can process it, he’s reaching for the fruit bowl on the counter. a knife glints in his hand, and for a second, your breath catches. not because you’re afraid—no, never of him—but because of how he holds it.

not with the careless ease of someone cutting fruit. but with the precise grip of a soldier trained to kill.

a second too late, he seems to realize it too. his fingers shift, adjusting to something more casual, more familiar.

"still want them peeled?" he asks, tone too light.

you force yourself to breathe. "obviously."

he hums. starts peeling. his movements are too smooth, too calculated, but for a moment, if you squint, you can almost pretend.

almost.

he hands you a slice without looking up. you take it.

it tastes the same.

you chew slowly, watching him, waiting for something—anything—that feels real.

his gaze flickers to yours, unreadable. then, softer, quieter—

"good?"

the apple sits heavy on your tongue.

you swallow.

"yeah."

you chew, swallow, and place the half-eaten slice on the counter. caleb watches, waiting for something—maybe for you to complain about how the pieces aren’t cut evenly like you used to. but you don’t. you just stare at him, this version of him, and you realize something.

you still want him.

not just the boy he used to be—the one who would throw you over his shoulder just to prove he could, the one who’d grumble about being your fake boyfriend but always played the part too well. no, you want this caleb, too. the one who stands before you now, heavier with the weight of things unsaid, carrying shadows you don’t recognize.

your fingers twitch, and before you can overthink it, you reach out. you expect him to flinch when you press your palm against his wrist—his grip tightens just slightly around the knife, but he doesn’t pull away.

"caleb." you say his name like an answer to a question neither of you have asked.

his jaw tightens. he sets the knife down, slow and deliberate. when he finally looks at you, his eyes are searching, guarded—but underneath it, there’s something raw. something afraid.

"i know," he says. and it’s barely a whisper, but you hear everything. the guilt, the exhaustion, the hesitation.

you exhale. "i never said anything."

"you don’t have to." his lips press into a thin line. "i can tell."

you consider denying it, telling him he’s being dramatic, but you’re tired of pretending. so instead, you squeeze his wrist, grounding him.

"it’s okay," you say quietly. "if you’re no longer the same caleb I knew."

his breath hitches. you feel it more than you hear it.

"because either way—" you tighten your grip, firm, unwavering, "you’re never leaving me again."

his body stills. like he’s waiting for the catch, for the conditions, for something that makes this feel less like a promise and more like a fleeting moment he can let slip through his fingers.

but you don’t take it back.

caleb swallows. his free hand twitches at his side, like he wants to reach for you but doesn’t know if he’s allowed to.

"say it again," he murmurs, voice barely above a breath.

you step closer. "you’re never leaving me again. i won't let you."

this time, he exhales shakily, as if he’s been holding his breath for years. and then—finally—he rests his forehead against yours.

neither of you move.

the apples sit forgotten on the counter.

(caleb drops a bag onto the counter with a dull thud.

you glance at it, then at him. “what’s this?”

“apples,” he says, already rolling up his sleeves.

you blink. “they’re not pre-cut.”

“no shit,” he snorts, pulling out a knife. "figured you were overdue for the real thing.”

you watch as he starts peeling—smooth, practiced movements, no hesitation. he still holds the knife like a soldier, but his hands are steady, deliberate. for you.

a slice appears in front of your face. you take it without a word. it tastes fresher, sweeter.

he smirks. “better than that store-bought crap?”

you chew, swallowing down something thick in your throat, replacing it with something lighter in your chest.

“…yeah.”)

[maiyz]

i could be a good mother

synopsis: random baby moment!!!

characters: geto, shoko, gojo

a/n: dont ask how fem reader and shoko had a baby its omegaverse ig

main masterlist

GETO

the house is still wrapped in early morning silence, the kind where the birds havent called yet. the kitchen smells like butter and maple syrup, and the only sound is the soft hum of getos voice.

hes at the stove, robe hanging loosely off only shoulder, hair tied back in that bun, messy and unfairly handsome.

and beneath the robe

a small lump, his baby, tiny, with two bare feet poking out.

shes hugging his leg, cheek smooshed against his tricep, thumb in mouth and hugging her stuffed bunny to her belly, eye fluttering.

geto stirs pancake batter with one hand, preparing the pan with the other.

you peek into the kitchen, still in pajamas.

“shes under your robe again..” you mumble sleeply.

“mm.” he doesnt look up. “yeah.”

“why are you cooking with a baby under your robe..”

“she crawled in” he replies, droppjng the butter jn the pan. “i didnt ask questions.”

you raise an eyebrow. “youre not going to take her out?”

“shes fine, shes warm, shes not crying.” he shrugs. “im multitasking.”

a sleepy squeak comes from under his robe, followed by the softest little “dada” as she wiggles a bit.

he glances down, pulls up the robe just slightly. “you good in there, kiddo?” a muffled sigh answers him.

“shes good,” he confirms.

you try to act unimpressed, but your heart is gone. melt. you walk over and wrap your arms around his waist.

“she loves you so much,” you murmur.

“mhm.” he leans down to kiss your temple. “im warm. i feed her. im shaped like a blanket. who wouldnt”

the pancake sizzles softly in the pan. your daughter shifts a little under his robe, safe and sound and not planning on moving.

geto just stirs the batter like hes done this a thousand times. like this— baby under robe, you on his hip, quiet morning light— is exactly where he was always meant to be.,

SHOKO

the first rays of sunlight shined in your room though the half opened blinds. you shifted slightly, trying not to disturb the bundle curled against your chest.

your daughter, barely six months, let out a sleeply sugh and snuggled closer

you dont remember falling asleep with her on your chest, or sleeping with a blanket on. but you had a idea of who was responsible.

footsteps padded quietly into the living room, and you smiled before even looking at who it was.

“you were asleep for like 5 years.” shoko said, her voice amused as she makes her way to the couch. she was in one of your sweaters andher shorts with a mug in her hand. “i put her there while i made breakfast for you.”

“little brat, she didnt stop crying at 5am.” (sho)

“dont be mean, she takes after yo.u” (yn)

“i, for the record, have never woken you up at 5am.” (sho)

“right.” (yn)

she rolled her eyes but doesnt argue. she leans over to kiss your cheek, then the top of the babys head,

“wanna switch? breakfast is on the table.” (sho)

“cant believe you cooked.” (yn)

“i ordered them, but i plated them nicely.” (sho)

you giggle, trying not to wake the baby. she stirred, then slowly blinked up at shoko with sleepy eyes.

“morning.” shoko whispered, her voice suddenly higher pitched and sweeter.

she scooped the baby from your arms with esse, cradling her.

the little one grabbed her hoodie, babbling nonsense, staining shokos clothes with spit in the process.

“shes already messy” shoko said.

“shell fit right in then,” you said, stretching your arms as you stood.

there wasnt any chaos this morning. no cursed spirits, mo sorcery politics. just soft footsteps in a quiet home, a baby giggling kn shokos arms, and ihop in the kitchen.

you kiss shokos lips as you passed by. “thanks for letting me sleep in”

“anytime” she murmured. “weve got all the time in the world now.”

GOJO

the sound of splashing water and giggles drifted frlm the bathrlom, drawing satoru like mouth to flame. he already had a camera in his hand, he had grabbed it on instinct the second he heard you two laughing.

he stopped in the doorway, heart squeezing at the adorable sight.

you were in the bathtub, hair in a messy bun, shoulders glistening from the water, and steam coming from the bathwater. and in your lap was his baby girl, her soft hair sticking up in every direction, cheeks round and pink, her tiny hands smacking the water.

“thats just not fair, you guys are sooo cute!” he whispered with a gron.

you glace up “satoru? is that your camera, again?

“uh huh” he said “you think i would miss this? im documenting everything.”

you let out a breathy laugh. “your not taking pictures of me in the bath”

“i absolutely am, you look like an ethereal goddess. this is gonna go in the family album, smile!”

before you could respond, your daughter squealed with a gummy smile, reaching toward him with slippery hands. water sloshed over the sides of the tub.

satoru melted on the spot.

“i mean come on,” he said, lifting the camera. “look at her. look at you. how am i supposed to not take pictures?”

he snapped a picture as you tried (and failed) to hide your face behind the baby. it came out a little blurry, a little crooked, but perfect all the same.

“alright, just one more,” he said softly, crouching down. “smile for daddy!.”

you didnt try to hide this time. you looked at him—hair damp, arm wrapped around your daughter, love written all over your face—and he pressed the shutter. click!

he lowered the camera. “im the luckiest guy in the world.”

you smiled. “we know.”

you daughter babbled something and slapped her hand against the water again, splashing both satoru.

he blinked, water dripping down his cheek. “how rude.”

you giggle. “thats what you get.”

satoru huffed, pulling off his shirt. “fine. guess im joining in.”

he climbed into the tub with the two of you.

the camera was forgotten on the bathmat.

though the picture was added to the family album.

big bathtub for a big sorcerer (gojo)

[savi-our]

Anti-Harem with OP Mage MC pt. 2

Right so... this is longer than i intended and more detailed than intended, i humbly ask for your forgiveness for this reading more like a fanfic one-shot 😭 Theres just so much you can do with this idea and i wanted to do the SF brothers justice, this is less anti-harem centric and more daily life of MC centric so do what you will with it - id love to hear some thoughts on this though, im genuinely considering writing a full blown fic abt this prompt and writing out ideas here helps convince me. Also watch me turn SF Sans into a closeted fangirl in real-time bc i CAN and i WISH TO and i WILL... tee hee 😍 HT for next part maybe? idk hdafejkkl

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Months passed since the new recruit arrived, and you had spent most of those months avoiding the household all together, not that any of them were in any hurry to seek you out. Actually - apart from passing glares and avoidant glances the skeletons had seemed to avoid you all together now, and it didn't take you long to realize that it was the newbies doing. It seems the brothers had already begun to switch all their official mage dealings with the newbie, and you overheard them one night speaking of how nice it'll be once you were gone. It hit you hard, the unbridled JOY that came from those words. The first smile in months had graced your expression, this annoying assignment would be done soon, and you didn't even have to look for a replacement. Of course there was a technical issue there, the recruit was weak, you doubted they could handle the responsibility, but you'd be damned if you had to be reassigned to the brothers again due to their own poor judgement. You set up barrier upon barrier on the furthest borders of the property, weaving old and powerful magic unseen by the untrained eye, as invisible as a spider thread in the deep dark of night.

The day came sooner than anticipated, a sunny morning wrapped in late spring dew when an official courier brought you the sealed reassignment papers, you wasted very little time. There were no goodbyes, nobody to see you off, no see you laters. You just packed your bags and left, deciding to celebrate your release from this mock hell with a feast of your own making. 

Days passed easily after that, your new assignment had been similar in that you were still expected to deal with monsterkind. As the official top ranking mage you were expected to oversee the immigration process of the newer species - finding them homes and determining the new borders, on paper that is - in actuality you were there in case it all went to shit. You were there to evaluate how big of a threat these newcomers were, and if all of it went down the drain, expectation fell to you to play both judge and executioner. It was all a terrible diplomatic hassle, endless meetings with diplomats and officials from both sides, meetings with the kings and queens, correspondence between the Archmage and the people on the ground, endless evaluations and negotiations. Where they lived, were they safe, were they able to integrate, political and financial concerns, provisions and temporary shelters were now your everyday cause for headache. It was there you met a pair of somewhat similar faces.

 Black and Mutt were skeletons, and that fact had not given you the best first impression - unbecoming of you perhaps, to judge a book by its cover, but months of threats and insults could change even the most unbiased of people. The two were a tad different from the others however, something you found curious if not a bit strange, they were… respectful, if not a bit stiff. Charged as part of the Royal Guard - they worked closely with the rulers of Mtt. Ebbot, so you saw them often escorting officials to and from meetings. You had no reason to approach them, coming from the other side as you were, you technically outranked them quite a bit in the merging hierarchy, but it was one stormy night that made you all grow quite a bit closer in an alarmingly short period of time.

A pack of fiends had snuck their way into one of the lesser guarded shelters outside of Mtt. Ebbott, cunning creatures that fed off of magic. They were hardly a threat alone, even an apprentice mage could take on two by themself - unfortunately due to that fact they tended to gather in numbers, the recorded largest amount was around forty if you remembered right, this however, this was beyond your imagination.

You should have predicted it,it was your miss, your meager miscalculation, of course they would be drawn here, a cave sealed off for centuries, brewing magic for centuries, a breeding ground for anything magic, broken for the first time in centuries. You responded quickly, but by the time you got there it was already chaos, the loud thrum of magic permeated the air and both monsters and humans were rushed off of the scene, the ground was bloodied, a sign that you were already late. You assessed the scene as you rushed past the terrified civilians, you would need to clean it up quickly. 

The resisting force had taken damage but they were holding, human and monster guards stationed at the furthest gate fighting off the onslaught of fangs and burning eyes. You took notice of the two skeletons fighting beyond the gate, they worked well together, soldiers of significant skill - you sped past them, an order to pull back immediately flew past your lips and you moved further into the swarm, Black had called after you but you tuned it out, as daunting as the situation seemed it was still below your paygrade.

It was a single spell, a light that lit up the sky, a deafening bang that rattled the ground and the job was done. Your hands stung from the forced speed of the cast, but you remained unscathed as you stood among the scattered ashes, burning flesh permeated the air. You sighed, the ever present mountain of paperwork on your desk was bound to double in size.

It was all damage control after that, rushed orders to your subordinates and rebinding of the barriers, but when you stepped past the gate once again to scout out the surrounding for any remaining threats is when the two skeleton guards approached you, they demanded to go with you- well the shorter one did anyway, it made your brows raise - there weren't many people left in the world that demanded things from you. You looked them both over, amusement in your eyes, and agreed, a challenge to keep up on your tongue.

After that things had slightly shifted, the skeletons greeted you upon meeting, saluted you upon leaving, you began to notice more monsters approach you with official papers or directives, it was an odd thing, mainly because you reflected on how joined it seemed all of a sudden. Before the attack you were mostly responsible for the human mages and soldiers on base, now it seemed your responsibilities grew their own legs and danced around the monsters as well. You saw more of the skeletons, Black in particular seemed curious, even though he never admitted it or outwardly showed it, it was subtle but you noticed, he often joined you for your nightly rounds even when not required to, it was a bit awkward at first, silent patrolling of the grounds, you had nothing to really speak about, and it seemed neither did he. You could not for the life of you figure out why he took such a sudden interest in your company but you also were curious how long he would keep it up, besides, having him accompany you seemed to put the other monsters at ease.It was on one of those rounds when you finally addressed him, he seemed surprised that you had, shoulders stiff, back straight as he looked at you with wide eyes.

“Don't you have more important things to do?” You asked, the question seemed harsh, but its harshness dissipated by the lightness of your tone, echoed by the stone hall in the moonlit night. He had opened his mouth but it was a moment before he responded, seemingly not expecting conversation, he turned away clearing his throat as he set himself to rights.

“OF COURSE NOT, THE SECURITY OF THESE GROUNDS IS OF THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE. CONSIDERING THE DISASTER FROM TWO WEEKS AGO ITS MORE EFFICIENT TO DO IT MYSELF.” 

You hummed, continuing to walk, listening to the sharp sound of his footfalls a step behind you.

“Would it not be better to split up then?” You asked, your tone still light, your eyes observing him with a knowing glint.

“W-WELL YES, BUT FOUR EYES ARE BETTER THAN ONE, AND IT WILL SAVE TIME IF WE DO SPOT SOMETHING AND NEED A MESSENGER.”

And your guess proved right, his reasoning was weak at best, there was no need for both of you to do rounds together - you could clock a threat miles away even in the pitch black, and you knew for a fact that Black could handle himself well enough, and yet he seemed to want to be in your shadow all the same, you chuckled, but did not voice your thoughts. 

Your relationship seemed to steadily improve after that, every now and again you would walk the shelter grounds together, and every now and again you'd exchange conversation albeit a short one, but it beat the awkward silence that was there in the beginning.

Mutt was different, he didn't seem to hold as much intrigue towards you as his brother, he was more so there by default as he seemed to almost always stay by his brother's side, in fact the only time you saw either of them apart was when Black joined you in securing the premises. The taller brother was an enigma, you had not heard him speak once since your assignment, a part of you wondered if he even could. But he didn't seem outwardly volatile either, more so apathetic towards the goings on around him. That opinion switched one busy day where a scheduling error had made the three of you take an overnight shift guarding a group of pompous diplomats. It was a nightmare, twelve straight hours of listening to empty boasts and endless rants about the economy, even you had begun to space out, this was probably worse than those month long scouting missions in Siberia you were forced into back in training.

 You noticed the brothers were reaching their limit as well, you worried Black would leave indents in his skull with the force he was gritting his teeth and you were sure Mutt was half asleep as he wobbled on his feet, skull falling every odd minute or so. 

It was a couple hours later when you found out you were scheduled for two more babysitting sessions except they were both at the same time, and both had human and monster envoys, Black seemed to mirror your frustration as you checked and rechecked the schedule. 

One way or another you had organized a lower ranking mage qualified for escort duty to take your place for one of them, and Black had given his brother the order to attend the same one as you as he himself took the other, rushed words of “IT’LL BE QUICKER IF EACH OF US TAKES ONE.” after which you parted, the vote of confidence made you chuckle.

It was another four hours when you wondered if Mutt had passed away standing on his feet, he hadnt moved in a good hour or two, and skeletons didn't need to breathe so he remained deathly still. He stood behind the officials chair like a statue carved from marble, quite an unsettling sight considering the early hours of the morning and the sharp looming shadows casting off of him. The human envoys seemed to agree with you, considering the nervous glances being cast his way amidst the conversation, and you couldn't help but find the situation amusing. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep or the frustrations of your job but you decided to hurry the meeting along with a mischievous play of magic, lest you join Mutt in his nap. A moving shadow here, the caw of a crow there and what do you know, suddenly all business has been magically taken care of.

You had woken the looming skeleton with the good news and watched as he attempted to stifle a yawn, he had checked his phone and noted that his brother had not been graced with the same fortune as you. You had asked if he would wait - a nod, you offered your office - a moment of silence, but after a while, another nod.

It was another hour at your desk, finishing up some paperwork when you heard gentle snoring on your office couch, a comfy thing that had served you many times for a bed in the days where your job kept you from home, the sound made you blink slowly to the skeleton that occupied it.

Your own exhaustion made you zone out in thought, the sight had an enviable peacefulness to it, it's perhaps why you didn't notice the phone that fell with a quiet thump out of Mutts pocket. It vibrated, once, twice, then for a third time, screen lighting up repeatedly. You rose from your seat, bones popping as you sighed and made your way over, if it was Black then it was probably asking where Mutt was, you should wake him.

Is what you thought anyway, what ended up happening was you being trapped in an iron grip stuck to a dead asleep skeleton. It happened so quickly and out of nowhere that you didn't even have time to process it, the long hours awake didn't help either. One second you're reaching for his shoulder and the next you're halfway on top of said skeleton, limbs wound around limbs. You blanked, what even was this situation, you never took Mutt for a cuddler, his grip is crushing, impressive for someone with no muscle, wait hold on.

You attempted to pull away, but the answering growl and tightening hold let you know that the skeleton didn't agree with that choice of options, subconsciously or not. Waking him up seemed a thing that you should do, but the option flew right out of the door once you thought about how this would all register with him once he woke up, it was embarrassing really. You attempted once again to move off of him but he turned, and dragged you along with him further into the couch. Ah, you had made it worse. Couch cushions pressed in your back and a very large and a very asleep skeleton pressing you into his ribcage, it seems he intended to keep you for a body pillow, now what.

The door slammed open and you blanked once again, this was a nightmare, you prayed it wasn't some disgruntled diplomat come to complain to you about something. You attempted to lift your head to see but the grip on you made your back pop and you groaned, breath knocked out of you.

“MUTT! WHAT IN TORIEL'S NAME ARE YOU DOING GET OFF THIS INSTANT!! NOW YOU DOG! OFF!” The yelling was familiar and for a second you felt relief, and then dread all over again as vertigo hit you. In his panic he had rolled, rolled right off the couch and onto the cold hard ground and had taken you with him. You groaned again as you attempted to get your bearings, lifting your gaze only to be met with bright purple, you blinked and watched as slowly but surely confusion turned into realization and then straight into horror, the brightness of the flush on Mutt’s face was there for half a second before he was gone, disappearing into thin air. 

It took you a while to process the whole thing , even longer to reassure Black that it was an accident on his brother's part and that you were partly to blame for the situation as well. By the end of it all it was safe to say that you were exhausted, so you had locked up and went home, it was the morning after that you noticed that the lanky skeletons phone was still innocently laid on your carpet. You snorted, wondering whether or not the silent guard dog would come knocking on your door before late, or if it would be his ever principled brother in his stead.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Home is Where the Mouse is

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

Summary: Ghost and Mouse begin their big city adventures!

Warnings: Language, Fluff, minor angst, smut (oral, M receiving), nudity, kissin, lovin, all that good stuff

Word Count:3K

A/n: now that the fuckin 8 months of darkness are finally over i've got more motivation and i really hope the creativity starts flowin cause mama wants to write. BUT ANYWAY here they are your fav pairing ghost and mouse, in the beginning of their big city adventures (im gonna update masterlists soon i suh-wear!) anyway thats all, love ya hope ya enjoy!!!

The Story of Ghost and Mouse

~*~

The concept of 'home' doesn't really exist to you.

Home.

You'd looked it up once, during one of those endlessly long days when your Ghost was away.

Home.

Noun.

the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household.

Home.

Something that hasn't existed to you, at least not in a positive way, for your entire life.

But now, somehow, you're discovering this 'home'.

Creating it, even.

You've landed, exited the helo, and are now standing just inside the doors leading home.

Simon's fingers tugging on your sleeve pull you from your thoughts, your dreams, and back to the present moment.

"Here." He hands you a box wrapped haphazardly in brown wrapping paper.

You eye it warily, looking up at Simon for some sort of explanation.

"S'not much," Price chimes in, "just a little going away gift me an' the boys put together for you."

You go to hand it back to Simon, but Price stops you with a gentle hand on your forearm.

"We put it together for you, Mouse. Not for him."

You frown, looking between the box and the Captain.

It takes you a few moments to process this, but eventually, you pull the box in toward yourself.

"Thank you," you finally murmur, unease settling heavily on your chest.

The older man gives you a gentle smile, then takes a half-step back.

"Well, you two stay safe. Stay outta trouble, Mouse." Soap gives you a gentle pat on the shoulder in farewell, and Gaz gives you a wave, and then you're standing there alone with your Ghost.

Slowly, you turn to face him, eyes wide and full of wonder and fear and excitement.

His gaze is locked on yours, face covered by a black medical mask, but his eyes. His eyes are there, they always are.

Brown and soft when they rake over you, full of softness he's kept hidden for years, decades even.

And now it's all yours, spilling through the cracks in his cold hard exterior. A pot of love and light and all the good things he can muster, boiling over on the stove of his heart.

And you're the one who lit the fire.

"C'mon, Mouse. Let's go home."

The entire drive through the city, your eyes are trained out the window. Looking at anything, everything. The gloomy clouds that spit a few tears every now and then, the stragglers walking wherever they need to go

A fire truck races past in the opposite direction and you swivel around in your seat, craning your neck to try and follow it as much as you can. 

And Ghost says nothing. 

He’s silent the entire drive, as he usually is, but this time it’s different. So different. This time he’s not going home alone. 

No, now he has you, his sweet little mouse. And the last thing he wants to do is pull you from the window where you sit and stare in awe. 

“Look!” You exclaim suddenly, a smile spreading widely across your face.

He follows your finger, brows drawing together as the car slows to a stop at a red light. 

“Look look look!” You point harder, pressing your finger firmly against the glass. 

“What is it, love?” Simon asks curiously, rolling down your window. 

You gasp, looking at him with pure bewilderment written across your face as if he’s just performed witchcraft before your very eyes. 

“There! That one!” 

Finally, he sees what you’re pointing at, and he can’t help the sad smile that tugs at his lips. 

“That’s a school bus. Kids get on that and it drives them to school. S’where they go to learn how to read and write… do math. That sor’a thing.”

The more you learn about that world, the more you realize you’ve missed out on. 

All of this, every single thing, is brand new to you. The giant glowing signs in the sky, the vehicles - some different shapes and colours, the supermarkets, banks, hotels, train tracks. 

The reminder of your bleak upbringing tugs on Simon’s heartstrings, and he reaches across to rest a hand on your thigh, giving it a loving squeeze. 

Your eyes drop down to where his hand meets your leg, and then you lift your gaze up to his face. 

The car starts moving again, but Simon glances over at you every now and then. 

“What’s goin’ through that head a’ yours?” He asks after a few moments of silence. Moments spent, mostly, staring at him. 

“What do we do now?” You finally ask, voice small. 

He gives your thigh another squeeze then gently rubs his thumb back and forth against you. 

“Now we do whatever we want. For a bit, at least.”

He’s got three weeks off. Three whole weeks to spend with you doing whatever the two of you please. 

“What does Simon want?” 

A number of things happen in the few heartbeats that pass between your question and his answer. The first being him falling even deeper in love with you. 

The second thing that happens is a deep contemplation of your words. 

What does Simon want? 

You. That’s what. 

He doesn’t care if you spend the next three weeks in his bed too fucked-out to move. 

He doesn’t care if you want to go to Saskatoon, Paris, or the moon, for that matter. Whatever you want is what he wants. 

Whatever makes you happy he’s sure will make him happy. 

And so he answers as honestly as he can. 

“I want you, sweet Mouse. S’long as ‘ve got that ’m a happy man.”

The smile that stretches your cheeks is the same smile that melts his heart. 

His hand moves from your thigh to your hand and then he’s lacing his thick calloused fingers through your small, fragile ones.

He tugs your hand over toward his face, chapped lips kissing your skin for a long moment before lowering your hands. 

“How ‘bout we go home, spend a few days there, and take it from there. How’s that sound?”

You give his hand a squeeze and settle into your seat a bit more.

“We go home,” you agree, sighing softly and turning to look out the window again, this time with a lovesick smile on your pretty pretty face. 

~*~

‘Home’ turns out to be a small one-bedroom apartment in what Simon describes as an ‘affordable’ area of a rainy city that you wouldn’t be able to point out on a map. 

The people here sound similar to your Simon, but none quite have the same accent. 

It’s a short trek up three flights of stairs and down a damp hallway, but then he’s unlocking the door and motioning for you to enter first.

You hesitate just in front of the threshold, unsure eyes darting up to his and waiting for his confirmation before you take another step. 

He watches you for a moment, then gives you a gentle but definite nod.

You step inside, breathe your first breath of home, and it’s nothing but Simon. 

His scent clings to the cold air in his apartment, wrapping around you when you take another step further inside. 

“Sorry for the cold. No point havin’ the heat goin’ when m’ not home.”

You don’t answer him, far too amazed by all that surrounds you. 

Now, Simon makes good money. Far more than he really needs, but that doesn’t mean he splurges. 

He’s away from the apartment more often than not, so why buy expensive furniture, or soft area rugs, or more than one chair for his kitchen table? 

His apartment, though impeccably clean, could compare to the shit-holes he’d often find you living in. 

But to you? This is luxury. 

Simon sets his bags down and locks the door, leaning against it and watching as you slowly and carefully explore your new home. 

You drag your fingers over every surface you can reach, tears prickling your eyes at the beauty surrounding you. 

The walls are intact and don’t have a single bullet hole. None of the windows are broken, and the couch might be the softest thing you’ve ever touched. 

Simon follows you as you venture over to the balcony, peering outside curiously. 

The view catches you off guard and you quickly look over at Simon, as if confirming that this is real, you’re not dreaming.

He only gives you a soft smile and a gentle nod.

Taking a shaky breath, you continue exploring. 

You dust your fingers over the bookshelf, across the spines of well-loved books about who-knows-what.

And then you’re venturing into the kitchen, curiously opening cupboards and then peering into the fridge. 

“We’ll go grocery shopping together. Get you some real nice snacks.”

You nod absentmindedly, leaving the kitchen and heading toward the other two rooms, opening up every single closet on your way. 

Simon can’t help but chuckle when he hears you turn the water on and off and on and off and on and back off in the bathroom. 

When you make your way into the bedroom, he follows, moving silently and watching as you trace your fingers over his bed.

Your bed, now. 

Besides that, there's a single nightstand with a lamp on it serving as the only other piece of furniture in the room. Another thing he plans on changing now that you’re here. 

“So? What do you think?” He asks after a moment, watching the way you stare at the bed, topped with an old duvet and one single pillow. 

Another thing he needs to change. 

“Home,” you murmur, pressing your hand flat against the bed and then looking over at him. 

He nods and makes his way over to you. Two strong, deadly hands push your hair away from your face, and then they’re gently holding you, tilting your head back. 

Your lips part and your lids flutter closed, and Simon marvels at how easily you let him touch you, handle you. 

“S’right, Mouse. We’re home. Jus you ’n me.”

He catches the falling drops as you melt into him, cradles you against him and presses kiss after tender kiss to your head. 

The two of you stand there for a long while, long enough for him to groan when you finally pull back to look up at him. 

“‘M’gonna shower. Care to join?”

You nod up at him eagerly, slipping your fingers under the back of his shirt and humming when you feel his warm skin. 

A chuckle rumbles in his chest.

“‘F I didn’t know any better I’d think you just want me naked,” he muses, slowly walking the two of you backward. 

You follow his lead effortlessly, your eyes focused up on his as a mischievous smile spreads across those lips that he wants to kiss. 

Your wish is promptly granted. 

Soon enough, the two of you are bare beneath the spray of the water. Water that will get warm and stay warm, unlike what the two of you are used to. 

Simon washes your hair for you, massages the three-in-one into your scalp then rinses it while trying to remember the last time he bought shampoo. 

Another thing he’ll need to change. 

The list grows with each room he sees you in. 

A toothbrush for you, a new tube of toothpaste because his is not looking the best. 

Another mug, because maybe one really isn't enough. 

He’s pulled from his thoughts by those soft hands of yours, wandering down his belly, following the happy trail. 

He sucks in a sharp breath when your little fingers wrap around the base of his semi, quickly chubbing beneath your delicate touch. 

You look up at him with those wide, innocent eyes, and he sways a little on his feet with how quickly the blood rushes south. 

Curiosity cocks your head to the side and pulls your hand upward, then slowly pushes it back down. 

Simon pushes a heavy breath through his nose and drops his head back as one hand grabs your wrist while the other braces against the wall. 

The water rains against your back as you slowly stroke his shaft, bottom lip tucked securely between your teeth as you watch the big man before you slowly come apart.

The hand on your wrist tightens but doesn't stop you nor does it push you to pump him faster. 

No, he’s more than happy to take things at your pace, to let you have your way with him, do what you want to him. 

And that’s exactly what you do.

Slowly, you sink to your knees in front of him, a position he’s only ever imagined you in, and one he’s not sure you knew about. 

One day you’ll tell him about the website you stumbled upon that someone must’ve left open on the tablet, but today is not that day. 

Instead, you push your hair back and stroke his length a bit faster, leaning forward to place a gentle kitten lick on the tip.

His hips stutter forward and his knees buckle the tiniest bit and you can’t help but giggle.

“Fuckin’ hell. You tryna kill me?”

You grin up at him and lick your lips and fuck if that isn’t the sexiest thing he’s ever seen in his life. 

He has half a mind to stop you so he can grab his phone and take a photo of you and make it his lock screen. 

Wet hair clinging to your face in some spots, eyes wide, back arched, chest up, pretty hand around his cock and prettier lips pressing against the tip. 

The thought leaves his head though when you wrap your mouth around the mushroom tip, tongue swirling around experimentally while your hand continues stroking him. 

His abs flex, shoulders hunch forward and his breathing becomes laboured. 

Water runs down the strong bridge of his nose, falling over his lips only to be blown away with each pant of air. 

The hand on your wrist moves to your head, not pushing you down but certainly stopping you from pulling back (not that you had any plan on doing that).

Encouraged by his reaction, you flatten your tongue against the underside and slide down his length as far as you can go, stopping only when you feel like you may gag. And then you pull back and do it again. And again. And again. Each pass brings you further and further down his heavy cock until your nose is nestling in the blond batch of hair at the base. 

Your eyes water as you fight your gag reflex again, but the look on his face is so worth it. 

His eyes are squeezed shut and he’s flushed pink from his chest to the tips of his ears. 

You hum around a mouthful of him, coughing when he snaps his hips forward the tiniest bit, forcing more down your throat. 

You pull away, gasping for air, and he opens his mouth to apologize but all that comes out is a choked moan when you immediately drop your mouth back onto him.

“Fuck!”

You don’t stop, mimicking what you saw in the video, and it seems to work because in no time Simon is gripping your head with both hands and trying his hardest not to fuck his cum down your throat and into your belly. 

It surprises you a bit, the thick warm salty ropes that spurt in your mouth and down your throat, but it’s not unwelcome.

It tastes salty and so distinctly Simon that you can’t help but moan and greedily suck it out of him. 

This time he can’t control it - his hips stutter forward when you continue sucking and licking at his oversensitive cock, not stopping until he physically pries you off, and even then you whine up at him like he ruined your meal. 

You stay on your knees, warm water raining down on you, lips covered in spit and cum and fuck you’ve never looked better. 

Simon leans his shoulder against the wall, panting heavily as one hand reaches out to stroke your cheek lovingly. You lean into his touch, humming softly, and he feels himself wrap around your finger a little bit tighter. 

“C’mere,” he whispers, reaching for your hand and tugging you up to your feet. 

Your legs ache a bit, but that disappears the moment he presses his lips to yours.

He kisses you with such fever you squeak in surprise, the sound quickly silenced and devoured by his hungry mouth.

His hands, big and warm and so made just to touch you, to feel you, find your waist and pull you flush against him.

You melt against him as the warm water beats against your back, rivalling the intense heat radiating from his chest.

Finally, when your lungs are aching, he lets you break away from him.

Your heavy breaths mingle in the damp shower air, and you can't help but giggle softly up at him.

Blond hairs dangle close to his eyes, water dripping from them as the corners of his scarred lips tug upward.

"What?" He asks, "Somethin' funny?"

You shake your head and tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, then gaze up at him with wide eyes full of admiration and adoration.

And in his eyes, you find an exact mirror of your own.

Home.

[burntoutangel]

A guardian angel who’s been with her charge for years. They practically grew up together, and ever since she realized she could see her, they’ve both been there for each other. Keeping her safe from the dark, telling her jokes on boring car rides, supporting her in transition. They’re like best friends or sisters, and even if they Angel isn’t around 24/7(everyone needs privacy now and then. Girls do, and even angels do), she’s only a name away.

And so she’s not entirely surprised when she’s called to chat on her charges smoke break. Manifesting her form in a grimy alley behind the shitty restaurant she’s been working at, calling out a few lines about the virtues of patience and humility, and how she should really quit smoking. What is a surprise is her girl grabbing the back of her neck and muttering “Angel, I need some *real* relief right now. Not just pretty words”. They’ve never touched like this before. And her voice has never been so gravely and full of… want. And so the angels first experience today in the physical world is her bare knees grating against the damp and grimy concrete, hands against the faded concrete, whimpering and grinding her hips as her charge, the girl she’s been with for years, uses the hand not holding a cigarette to fuck her throat until the angels nose is buried in her crotch~ it smells like sweat and precum and grease and smoke, this is far beyond what an angel, especially a *guardian* should do but fuck it just feels so good

The five minute break seems to stretch to eternity until a final shove hilts every inch of tired, underpaid girldick into her angelic throat, and the angel has her first whimpering shuddering pathetic orgasm at the feeling of her humans cum coating her mouth from throat to tongue, dripping the last remnants of it onto her eager lips. “Fuck honey, that was amazing. Look, my shifts about to start again but. You teleport to our place when im done, and I’ll make it up to you ok? Thanks for always being there for me” her girl says with a soft kiss to the cheek before turning quickly into the back door of the building, almost managing to hide her neon blush in the process

It takes a fair few minutes for the angel to collect herself. Dusting off her bruised knees, shyly licking the last of the cum off her lips and hands. Trying to get any remaining ash or dust off her robes. That was definitely more than a guardian was allowed to do. But she hardly cares. All that matters is the thought of her charge coming home and fucking her senseless again ❤️