#like at all??? and they brought on MORE people and they want ME AND HER TO TRAIN THEM...WHEN WE GOT HERE A MONTH AGO

[neellscapsule]

seven minutes in heaven

summary | clark likes to know what other people think of 'superman'. he very much wishes to know your thoughts of him as well.

pairing | clark kent x female!reader

warnings / tags | pure fluff with a bit of suggestive stuff (language & actions). reader knows clark is superman but he doesn't know she knows. making out. reader is scared of the dark

word count | 5k

authors note | hi there!! english is not my first language so there might be some mistakes, or not, it can depend :)

i've written this with david!clark on my mind but you can picture him hoverer you want.

DAILY PLANET, METROPOLIS – 8:43 AM

Clark had arrived early—earlier than most. He always did. Something about watching the city wake up through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the bullpen made him feel a little more… human. There was serenity in it. Metropolis, with all its chaos and stories and rush hours, looked a little kinder before nine a.m.

Jimmy was already typing away at his desk, which faced Clark’s. Lois stood between them with a coffee in hand, already on her second espresso of the morning, clearly gearing up for whatever press conference or mayoral disaster awaited her by noon.

“Can we just talk about it?” Steve Lombard’s voice carried from the bullpen’s break area, hands waving through the air like someone who had opinions and no shame about unleashing all of them.

“No,” Lois replied, not even looking up.

“C’mon! You can’t tell me that wasn’t a complete disaster. Superman literally ruined the game.”

“He didn’t ruin the game, Steve,” Clark said, trying not to smile. “He saved fourteen people from a collapsing skybox.”

Steve waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah, lives were saved—great. But Metropolis Monarchs were this close to winning against Gotham, and the game got suspended. Suspended! Who’s gonna compensate me for my front-row seat, huh?”

Lois sighed and walked over to her desk.

Jimmy muttered, “You had front-row tickets? Thought you said those were too expensive.”

“I know a guy,” Steve said smugly.

Clark tilted his head, amused. “I thought you said the guy owed you one.”

“He does.”

“Because you broke his nose in college.”

Steve gave a noncommittal shrug. “Tomato, tomatoe.”

Lois rolled her eyes, flipping through her tablet with one finger and sipping from her Planet-branded mug. “You cannot be seriously blaming Superman for that. Many people could’ve died. Including your precious Monarchs.”

“I’m just saying,” the man muttered, crossing his arms, “he could be a little more considerate of sports fans.”

Jimmy laughed. “You are so lucky he only gives interviews to Clark.”

Clark looked up, blinking at the sound of his own name. “I, uh—what?”

Steve waved a hand, grinning. “You’re his buddy, Kent. You tell him I said this. Tell him: stop saving people during prime time.”

He smiled politely, the way he always did when someone brought up his strange closeness to Superman. If only they knew. If only you knew.

Clark glanced toward the elevators just as the doors dinged open, and then—he blinked. And blinked again.

And there you were.

Late, as usual. Jacket flung over one arm, white shirt oversized and slipping off one shoulder, hair pulled up like you’d only had five minutes to get ready, and jeans baggy in a way that somehow made you look like you’d just walked off a photoshoot. You moved through the room like you’d always belonged there.

You did, of course.

But still, Clark’s heart did that thing it always did when he saw you—stuttered once, then settled into a nervous rhythm. You had no right looking that good before nine a.m. Or smiling like that. Or knowing exactly how to roll your eyes at Perry without getting chewed out for it.

And despite all that confidence, all that spark, you still had that soft, impossible kindness that made Clark Kent—alien, invulnerable, Man of Steel—feel like he was back in high school with a stupid crush he didn’t know what to do with.

“YOU’RE LATE,” Perry’s voice boomed from his office before you even reached your desk.

You paused mid-step, lips twisting into a smile, and turned toward the glass wall. You gave him a dramatic bow, jacket swinging behind you like a cape.

“Fashionably,” you called.

Perry looked like he wanted to protest, but instead muttered something unintelligible and waved you off.

You walked past Clark’s desk, dropping your oversized canvas bag onto yours with a thud, then straightened up and stretched. The white shirt you wore shifted, revealing just a peek of your baby blue undershirt. Clark didn’t stare. He just... glanced. Briefly. Respectfully.

You turned toward Steve. “So. What’d I miss?”

“Oh, you’re just in time,” Steve said with a grimace. “We’re dragging Superman for ruining last night’s game.”

You raised an eyebrow, slipping out of your jacket and hanging it on the back of your chair. “Dragging Superman? Wow. Bold of you.”

“I’m serious,” Steve grumbled. “Game of the year, and the dude shows up in the sixth inning. Collapses the whole upper deck just by flying too close to it or whatever. Whole stadium cleared out. Half the fans didn’t even get a refund. It’s outrageous.”

You didn’t speak for a moment. Instead, you leaned against your desk, arms crossed, eyes flicking toward Clark for a second—just one.

Clark looked down at his keyboard, willing his pulse to slow.

Jimmy said under his breath, “Here we go…”

Lois was already smiling, sipping her coffee like this was her morning entertainment. Clark watched you carefully. Waiting.

You tilted your head at Steve. “Let me get this straight. You’re upset because Superman stopped a structural collapse and saved a bunch of lives… during a baseball game?”

“He could’ve done it more subtly!” Steve argued. “You know, landed softly. Whispered the building back into place. Something!”

You blinked once. Slowly. “Are you okay? Like, do you need to lie down?”

Steve sighed. “I’m just saying, if he really wanted to be helpful, he’d learn how to rescue people and not ruin the entertainment. Even you, a fan, has to admit that.”

That grin of yours twitched wider. “A little more than a fan.”

He groaned. “Please don’t say something corny like he’s the last hope of humanity or some garbage. You know he ruined my evening.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” you said gently. “Did Superman interrupt your boy’s hang out?”

Steve groaned and threw up his hands. “See? This is what I’m talking about. You’re all obsessed with him.”

You turned fully now, facing the group. Clark kept his eyes carefully on you, letting himself observe but not linger. But then… he saw it. The little gleam in your eye. That something that always said, I’m about to cause trouble for fun.

“Would it kill you to admit he’s kind of hot?” you asked sweetly.

Jimmy nearly spit his coffee out. Lois choked on hers and coughed, wiping her mouth. Steve gave you a scandalized look like you’d just admitted to setting fire to a church.

Clark… froze.

You hadn’t looked at him, not even once. But his mouth went dry, and the collar of his shirt suddenly felt too tight.

“I mean,” you went on, still very casual, very chill, “he is. Come on. The suit, the hair, that whole boy scout, punch-you-through-a-building-if-you-deserve-it thing. You’re lying if you say that doesn’t do it for you.”

Steve blinked. “That is so messed up.”

“You asked for my opinion,” you said, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m giving it.”

Clark managed a weak, baffled laugh. “Wait… wait, so… you do like him?”

And then—you looked at him.

He barely had time to register it before your eyes landed on his, steady and warm and just a little bit mischievous. You licked your bottom lip, slow, like you were thinking. That tiny action somehow scrambled the words in his brain and made his gaze flick down briefly before he jerked it back up.

You shrugged, casually pulling at the first button of your oversized shirt. “I mean…”

Another button popped.

He blinked again. “What—what are you doing?”

You didn’t answer. You just unbuttoned the next one.

The fabric slid open slightly. Beneath it, a glimpse of soft blue peeked out. Baby blue. Thin cotton stretched over your frame like it was painted there.

Clark’s thoughts turned to static.

Then came the third button. The shirt parted fully at the center.

Revealing, in pristine red and yellow print, the iconic Superman emblem—bold across your chest.

Clark forgot how to breathe.

Jimmy whistled. “Daaaamn, Y/N.”

The shirt rode up just a little as you moved—just enough to show a small sliver of your lower belly. And the world tilted slightly on its axis.

You grinned, the mischief now fully bloomed on your face. “What makes you think I don’t like him?”

Steve stared in horror. “You have merch?”

You nodded proudly. “Limited edition. They only made fifty in this exact cut. Got it at a charity auction.”

Jimmy gasped. “Was that the one with the signed cape?”

“Folded neatly in my closet,” you said, smug.

Lois just shook her head. “Don’t encourage her.”

You gave her a wink. “You love it.”

But Clark didn’t laugh. He was still blinking, caught halfway between flustered and something deeper. Something dangerous. Like longing.

You turned to look at him again. The smile softened a little.

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to sound relaxed. “So… you’re a fan.”

You arched a brow, folding your arms slowly. “Big fan.”

Clark looked down, caught himself smiling at his shoes, and glanced back up at you. “I’ll, uh… let him know.”

You laughed once, under your breath. “Yeah. You do that, Kent.”

“I'm just saying he could've been more careful,” Steve grumbled again, still sulking at his desk like a man personally wronged by fate.

“You sound just as annoying as Lex Luthor right now,” you replied, sliding into your chair with a little huff, spinning yourself halfway before letting the chair settle again. “Just thank that nothing worse happened, Lombard. The game is going to be replayed anyway.”

Steve shot you a glare from over the partition, opening his mouth as if to retaliate, but Lois interjected first without even glancing up from her screen. “Don’t waste your breath, Steve. She’s right. You’re wrong. End of story.”

You smirked, clearly pleased with yourself, and Steve muttered something under his breath that sounded vaguely like “brainwashed Superman fan club,” to which Jimmy snorted and almost dropped his camera lens.

Clark stayed quiet, because truthfully, there wasn’t much else to say. He watched you lean forward, elbows on the desk, your fingers already dancing across the keyboard. Your hair fell forward, framing your face, and you absently blew a strand out of your eyes as you typed.

He knew you were busy. You always looked busiest when you were trying not to look distracted. But every so often, your gaze flicked up just slightly—to see if he was still looking.

He was. Always.

Hours passed, swallowed up by the endless hum of deadlines.

Clark was knee-deep in editing an article about zoning disputes in Metropolis’ Old Town district (riveting stuff, truly) when Perry’s booming voice once again demanded someone’s attention, this time calling for a meeting upstairs. Lois left first, muttering about how the man had a sixth sense for interrupting her flow, and Jimmy followed with his camera bag. Steve remained at his desk, grumbling and crumpling up another candy wrapper.

You? You stood, stretching your arms above your head and letting out a quiet groan that had Clark’s ears twitching before he even realized it. “Break,” you announced to no one in particular, grabbing your coffee mug. “If I don’t get caffeine right now, I’m suing.”

Clark glanced up, hesitated for a beat, and then rose from his chair too. He wasn’t sure if you noticed, but the way your lips curved just slightly told him you probably did.

The coffee machine was at the far end of the bullpen, tucked into a narrow room where the lighting was slightly softer and the noise of the office faded into a hum. You reached it first, fumbling with the old buttons.

Clark lingered behind, holding his own mug, not entirely sure what to say yet. He liked these moments—moments where it was just you and him, without the others. Moments where the air seemed quieter, your voice the loudest sound in the room to his ears.

You glanced over your shoulder, catching him standing there. “You following me, Kent?”

He smiled, sheepish. “Maybe. Or maybe I just really need coffee too.”

You smirked, turning back to the machine as it sputtered to life. “Convenient timing, huh?”

Clark stepped closer, close enough now to catch the faintest notes of your perfume—a warm, subtle scent he couldn’t name but recognized instantly. He didn’t need super-hearing to notice how your heartbeat kicked just a little faster when he leaned down to grab a stack of sugar packets from the counter beside you.

“So,” you said, filling the silence, “Steve’s still salty about Superman ruining his baseball game, huh?”

Clark chuckled softly. “I think salty might be an understatement.”

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head as you stirred sugar into your coffee. “It’s ridiculous. The guy saved lives, but oh no, a game was delayed. The audacity.”

Clark leaned a shoulder against the wall, watching the way your eyes brightened when you said it. You always looked lighter somehow when the topic of Superman came up, like it was something you could cling to when the world felt a little too heavy. He didn’t think you even realized you did it.

“You really like him,” he said, more softly than he intended.

You paused, spoon clinking against the ceramic as you looked up at him, head tilted slightly. “Of course I do. Don’t you?”

He cleared his throat, suddenly conscious of his own heartbeat picking up. “Yeah. I… I guess I do.”

You smiled slowly, and Clark swore it reached your eyes before anything else. “Good answer, Kent.”

He ducked his head, fighting the urge to grin like an idiot. “Do you, um… do you think he’s careful enough? Like Steve said earlier?”

You rolled your eyes so hard it could’ve been audible. “Steve’s just being Steve. Superman’s careful. You can’t save as many people as he does and not be. Does he make mistakes sometimes? Sure. He’s not—” you caught yourself mid-sentence, but the pause was deliberate, “—well, you know. He’s not perfect. No one is. But he’s close.”

Clark felt a strange warmth settle in his chest, the kind that wasn’t entirely about pride, though maybe part of it was. Hearing you defend him, not Superman the idea, but Superman the person, did something to him.

He watched you sip your coffee, the steam curling between you. “You, um… you light up when you talk about him,” he said before he could stop himself.

Your brow arched, and for a second he thought he might’ve crossed a line, but then you smiled—soft and a little teasing. “What, jealous?”

Clark blinked. “No! No, I just—”

You laughed, cutting him off. “Relax, Kent. I’m kidding.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, flustered. “Right. Yeah. I knew that.”

The machine let out a final sputter, and you stepped aside so he could pour his own coffee. He reached for the pot, but your hand brushed his first, and the contact was electric. He nearly dropped the mug.

“Sorry,” you murmured, not sounding sorry at all.

He swallowed, managing a small smile. “It’s fine. I… I don’t mind.”

Your gaze lingered on him for a beat longer than necessary, and then you tilted your head, playful again. “You know, for someone who’s Superman’s best friend, you don’t ask a lot of questions about him.”

Clark froze. “I—uh—well…”

You leaned a hip against the counter, holding your mug close, the Superman emblem peeking from beneath your still-unbuttoned shirt. “If I had that kind of access? I’d be grilling him constantly. What’s it like flying? How does he hear things from so far away? Does the suit ever get uncomfortable?”

Clark’s ears went warm. “I, uh… I think he’d probably be okay answering some of those. Maybe not all at once, though.”

You smirked knowingly. “You’ve asked him, haven’t you?”

“Maybe once or twice,” Clark admitted, fiddling with the handle of his mug.

You stepped closer then, not enough to crowd him, but enough that he could feel the warmth radiating off you. “Tell me one,” you said softly, leaning in just slightly. “Tell me something about Superman only you know.”

Clark’s mouth went dry. “Only I know?”

“Mm-hm.”

He hesitated. He could think of a hundred things, but every one of them was too revealing. He couldn’t tell you about how he’d memorized the rhythm of your laugh from rooftops far above the city, or how much he wanted to tell you the truth just to see your reaction.

So instead, he said, “He, um… he really likes dogs.”

You blinked. “Dogs?”

“Yeah,” Clark said, nodding quickly, grateful for the distraction. “He, uh… he once rescued this Great Dane from a flood. Spent half an hour drying him off with his cape before the owners came.”

Your lips parted, and then you laughed softly, shaking your head. “That’s… actually really sweet.”

Clark smiled, a little bashful. “Yeah. He thought so too.”

You nudged his arm gently with yours, that soft fabric of your shirt brushing his sleeve. “Thanks for telling me, Kent.”

He looked at you, really looked, and for a moment it felt like the world had slowed down to match the pace of your heartbeat, steady and warm and impossibly close.

“You’re welcome,” he said quietly.

You stared at him for a second longer, something unreadable in your gaze, before pulling back and lifting your mug. “Come on,” you said, walking ahead of him, “if we stay gone any longer, Lois is going to start a search party.”

He followed, his own mug forgotten in his hand, wondering how you made everything so damn complicated and so simple all at once.

You stopped by the break room door and turned the handle. Or tried to. The knob rattled but refused to budge, your brows furrowing as you tried again.

“Uh,” you said, giving it another twist, “that’s… not good.”

Clark frowned, stepping up behind you. “What’s wrong?”

You jiggled the handle, your voice flat. “The door’s stuck.”

He blinked. “Stuck?”

You pushed against it with your shoulder. “Yeah. Like, won’t-open stuck.”

Clark set his mug down on the tiny counter and stepped closer, towering behind you in the narrow space. “Here, let me try.”

You stepped back just enough for him to reach the door, but the break room was cramped—more like a glorified closet with a coffee machine—so the movement brought you shoulder-to-chest with him. Your elbow brushed his side as you shifted, and Clark did his best to ignore how warm that small contact felt.

He gripped the handle and gave it a firm twist. Nothing. He tried again, harder, leaning into the motion. There was a loud clunk followed by a snap.

The handle came off in his hand.

Clark froze, staring down at the now-detached metal knob like it had personally betrayed him. “…Oh no.”

You stared at the handle, then up at him, then back at the handle. “Did you just—”

“It was already loose,” he said quickly, holding the broken piece up in weak defense. “I barely touched it!”

You groaned, running a hand down your face. “Great. Just great. I told Perry the door was making weird noises every time someone opened it. Did he fix it? No. Did he even pretend to care? No!”

Clark set the handle carefully on the counter, trying not to look as flustered as he felt. “Okay, it’s fine. We can just… wait for someone to walk by, right?”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the tiny stretch of counter space. “Clark, you realize the bullpen’s probably empty right now? Everyone’s upstairs in the meeting.”

He glanced around the small room, taking in the reality of their situation. It really wasn’t built for two people. You stood on one side, your back against the counter, and he was barely two feet in front of you with his shoulders nearly brushing the opposite wall.

Your eyes darted to him, and he could swear there was the tiniest flicker of amusement hiding behind your annoyance. “So we’re stuck,” you said.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah. I guess we’re… stuck.”

A beat of silence passed. You lifted your mug, sipping slowly, eyes locked on him. “This isn’t awkward at all,” you deadpanned.

Clark rubbed the back of his neck, heat prickling at his ears. “No. Totally fine. Completely normal situation.”

You set the mug down on the counter with a little clink. “Well, at least it’s you and not Steve.”

He blinked. “What?”

You smirked, leaning forward just slightly. “If it was Steve, I’d have to listen to him complain about baseball for the next hour. You’re at least tolerable.”

Clark laughed softly, ducking his head. “Thanks. I think.”

Another step closer, and you had almost no choice but to brush past him. The narrow room left little space, and your shoulder grazed his chest as you reached for the upper cabinet, pretending you needed napkins. Clark pressed his back into the wall to give you room, but it barely helped.

“Sorry,” you murmured, your voice soft.

He shook his head quickly. “You’re fine. It’s… it’s a small room.”

You pulled the cabinet open, grabbed a handful of napkins you clearly didn’t need, and turned to face him again. “Do you think anyone’s gonna notice we’re gone?”

“I hope so,” he said, then winced at how that sounded. “I mean, eventually. Not that I’m, um, in a rush to…”

Your lips curved, the beginnings of a smile tugging at your mouth. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

Clark blinked, his entire brain short-circuiting. “…What?”

You tilted your head, studying him. “I said—”

“I heard what you said,” he blurted, his face warming.

You laughed quietly, the sound echoing softly in the tiny room. “Relax, Kent. I’m just teasing you.”

He tried to smile, but it came out sheepish. “Right. Teasing. Got it.”

You leaned back against the counter, sipping your coffee again. “So, any bright ideas, Mr. Superman’s Best Friend?”

He forced himself to focus, scanning the door. “I could try forcing it open, but that might, um… break it worse.”

You arched a brow. “Worse than a missing handle?”

“Okay, good point,” he admitted, glancing at the hinges.

You shifted, your knee brushing his leg this time, and Clark froze like someone had hit the pause button on him. You didn’t move away immediately; instead, you tilted your head, eyes flicking up to his.

“Don’t worry, Clark,” you said softly, “I don’t bite.”

He swallowed hard. “I didn’t think you did.”

Your gaze lingered on him a second longer before you stepped back, giving him a little more space—but not much. There wasn’t much to give.

“So tell me,” you said, setting your mug aside. “What would Superman do if he was trapped in a room with no way out?”

Clark chuckled nervously. “He, uh… he probably wouldn’t get trapped in the first place.”

You grinned. “True. But if he did?”

“He’d… probably wait. Someone would come eventually.”

You laughed softly. “That’s your plan? Wait?”

He rubbed the back of his neck again. “Well… yeah?”

You pushed off the counter, stepping toward him again until there was barely a foot between you. “That’s boring,” you whispered conspiratorially. “You’re telling me Superman wouldn’t have a better plan than that?”

Clark blinked down at you, every nerve in his body screaming at how close you were. He could feel the warmth radiating off you, smell the faint trace of your shampoo, hear the subtle uptick of your heartbeat—

Focus, Kent.

He cleared his throat. “I, uh… I think he’d be more focused on making sure the other person was okay.”

You arched a brow. “So you’re focused on me, then?”

Clark’s breath caught. “I—uh—yeah. I mean, yes. I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

You tilted your head, that mischievous glint in your eye. “You worried about me, Clark?”

He looked away, embarrassed. “A little.”

“That’s sweet,” you said softly.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The hum of the old coffee machine filled the silence, and Clark could’ve sworn the space between you was shrinking by the second.

Then you smirked, stepping back just slightly. “So, Kent,” you said lightly, “what are we gonna do while we wait for someone to rescue us?”

Clark opened his mouth, unsure what he was about to say—

The overhead lights flickered once, twice—then blinked out completely.

The break room was swallowed in darkness.

You went still instantly. Clark could hear it—the way your breath hitched softly, the quick flutter of your heartbeat like a drum in the sudden silence. You didn’t move, and for a split second, he wondered if you’d even blinked.

“...Okay,” you said softly, voice a little too tight, “that’s not ideal.”

Clark’s head tilted as he adjusted to the dark—though truthfully, he didn’t need to. His eyes cut through the blackness as easily as midday sunlight, and it was easy to see you standing rigidly by the counter, your mug clutched in one hand like it might be a weapon.

He took a cautious step closer. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” you said quickly. Too quickly.

Clark’s brow furrowed. “You don’t sound fine.”

You let out a quiet breath through your nose. “I just… don’t really like the dark. Like, at all.”

He was already moving before you’d finished, closing the gap between you with careful, measured steps so he didn’t startle you. He could feel the tension radiating off you even from a foot away. “Hey,” he said softly, “it’s okay. I’m right here.”

You shifted slightly, shoulders hunched. “I know. I just…” You trailed off, as if embarrassed. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” he said firmly. He stopped just in front of you, close enough now that your shoulders brushed his chest lightly. “The dark can be scary.”

You gave a shaky little laugh. “You don’t sound very scared.”

Clark smiled faintly even though you couldn’t see it. “I’ve had a little more practice.”

You blew out another breath, trying for humor. “Great. So I’ll just… stand here and quietly panic while you’re all calm and mysterious.”

Clark chuckled softly, deliberately letting the sound warm the air between you. “I’m not that mysterious.”

“Mm. Debatable.”

“It’s probably just a blown fuse.”

“You’d think in 2025 they’d have figured out how to stop doing that,” you muttered.

“Well, this is the Daily Planet. We still use fax machines in some departments.”

You laughed, barely, but it cracked through the tension like a flicker of light. “God. Don’t remind me.”

He could tell you were still tense, though, your heartbeat still a little too quick. He wanted to help, to do something—so he leaned just slightly closer, lowering his voice like it was a secret. “You want me to tell you something embarrassing about myself? Might distract you.”

You hesitated, then whispered, “...Yes.”

He smiled. “Okay. One time, in Kansas, I… accidentally burned a hole in my favorite pair of jeans trying to iron them. Like, all the way through. Had to go to school with half a knee exposed.”

You let out a surprised laugh, your shoulders loosening just barely. “That’s it? That’s your embarrassing story?”

“Hey,” he said, mock defensive, “it was a traumatic day.”

You huffed a breath, finally moving. He could see your outline turn, just slightly, toward him.

“Clark?”

“Yeah?”

A pause. Then:

“You know I know you’re Superman, right?”

Silence.

Complete, still, shattering silence.

You were still facing forward, your expression unreadable in the dark. “I mean, I’ve known for a while,” you added, quieter. “I just… never said anything.”

Clark’s mind spun. “You… what?”

You let out a nervous breath. “I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

He stepped back, startled, his heart thudding hard enough that he swore you could probably hear it. “How—how do you—”

“Clark.” You turned toward him now, blindly, like you were following the sound of his voice. “It’s not like you’re subtle. You’re always disappearing when he shows up. You’re the only one he’ll talk to. And…” Your voice softened. “I just knew. I don’t know how, but I did.”

Clark turned toward you, panic curling behind his ribs. “Does anyone else—”

“No. Just me.”

He felt the temperature in the room rise a degree. Not from heat, not really. From tension. From the fact that he could hear his own pulse hammering behind his ears.

“Hey,” you whispered. 

You slid your hands up slowly, feeling your way to his shoulders, then to his neck, until your palms found his cheeks. You cradled his face gently, grounding him.

“Breathe.”

He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until you said it.

“There,” you whispered. “See? Nothing’s changed.”

Clark swallowed hard. He could feel your thumbs brushing the edges of his jaw, the heat of your hands warm against his skin. You were so close now that he could feel your breath against his lips.

“You’re not in danger,” you said gently. “You’re not exposed. I would never do that to you.”

His hands came up to your waist instinctively, anchoring himself. He could barely think. Your touch was soft, thumbs brushing lightly at his cheekbones.

You tilted your head slightly, trying for levity. “Feels a little like seven minutes in heaven, huh?”

The words hit him like a freight train. His throat worked, but no sound came out—just a thick swallow as his pulse spiked.

You bit back a small smile. “I was joking, Kent.”

He huffed out a laugh, though it was thin and a little shaky. “Right. Joking. I knew that.”

“You’re really bad at hiding things,” you teased, still holding his face.

Clark closed his eyes briefly, leaning into your touch without meaning to. “You don’t seem very scared of me,” he murmured.

“Should I be?” you asked softly.

He hesitated. “…I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m not,” you said simply. “You’re still you. Clark.”

That name on your lips sent a shiver down his spine. He opened his eyes, and even though you couldn’t see him clearly, you didn’t flinch. You just stayed there, steady, holding him like he was something precious.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

You smiled softly. “Anytime.”

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The dark seemed to press in around you, but you didn’t feel scared anymore, not with him this close.

“Clark?” you murmured.

“Yeah?”

“If you’re gonna kiss me, now would be a good time.”

His breath hitched, and then he was leaning in, closing the final inch between you. His lips brushed yours lightly at first, tentative, but when you sighed softly against his mouth, he kissed you deeper.

You kissed him back instantly, your hands still cradling his face as you pressed up onto your toes. Clark’s hands found your waist, strong and steady, and before you knew it, he was backing you gently toward the counter.

Your back hit the edge, and he lifted you effortlessly, setting you on the cool surface as his body pressed closer. The kiss deepened, a low sound rumbling in his chest that made you shiver.

You pulled back just slightly, breathless, your forehead resting against his. “Wow,” you whispered.

Clark’s lips curved in a small, almost shy smile. “Wow?”

You laughed softly, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone. “Yeah. Wow.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, savoring it. When he finally pulled back, his voice was low, warm. “I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he admitted.

You smirked. “Liar.”

Clark chuckled, ducking his head. “Okay. Maybe I hoped.”

You leaned forward, brushing your lips against his softly. “Me too.”

The break room was still pitch black, the hum of the coffee machine the only sound besides your mingled breaths.

And for once, neither of you minded being stuck.

[luvingjeanie]

What’s that on your neck? | f.m. x fem!reader

Synopsis: Nobara and Yuuji see something on Megumi’s neck.

Warnings: nothing. this is just probably shit and not proof read bc i wanna get something out lol

“Fushiguro?…” Yuuji drawled out, a growing smile on his face. He reached out to poke Megumi’s cheek, but his hand was swiftly swatted away as Megumi did nothing but grumble incoherently.

“Stop trying to poke people.” Nobara quipped with an exasperated sigh to Yuuji, manicured nails clacking away on the screen of her phone, not even looking at the two boys.

However, Yuuji had spotted something. Something good. Something interesting, something Nobara would definitely want in on. So, with his grin unusually sly, he leaned over Megumi, only irritating the boy more, to speak to Nobara. “Look at him from my side!” He urged.

Finally, Nobara raised her head, eyes drooping with exhaustion from Yuuji’s usual antics, “What? So I can see his scowl from a different angle?”

“Why are you getting her to look at me anyway?” Megumi deadpanned, leaned back on the bench of the shopping strip with an annoyed brow cocked.

Yuuji ignored him, still yapping to Nobara. “Kugisaki, I’m serious! C’mon, look! Look!” He whined, his eyes similar to that of s child trying to convince his parents to buy him an expensive toy.

Huffing, Nobara stood up, quite quickly, and rounded the bench to sit by Yuuji’s side. Her eyes shot to the spot on Megumi’s neck that Yuuji had been eyeing with mischievous glee.

Lipstick. Faint, a little worn off, but still visible. Rounded and puckered in a kiss, leaving a dark red, almost black, stain on the pale, smooth expanse of skin on Megumi’s neck; right under his jawline. Intimate. Romantic. All the words that neither of his friends had even ever thought to associate with Megumi.

“No fucking way-“ She choked out, reduced to what could be called a cackle. Absolutely hysterical as Yuuji shook Megumi’s shoulders, bombarding him with childish, curious questions.

“You have a girlfriend? And for how long?! Why didn’t you tell us? Is she hot?” He cried, nearly throttling Megumi with the sheer force he was unintentionally using to shake his shoulders. “Why’s her lipstick so dark?” Then Yuuji gasped, “Ohhhh, is she like an emo? Or a goth? Which one?!”

Fighting back, Megumi finally succeeded in ripping Yuuji’s hands off of him as Nobara gasped, trying to collect herself as fat tears of laughter risked ruining her makeup. “What the fuck- What are you talking about? Lipstick?”

“That.” Yuuji and Nobara pointed in unison, speaking eerily synchronously.

Scrunching his nose up, he raised a brow. “I can’t look at down at my own neck. What is it?” He droned.

With her hysterics reduced to stifled giggles, Nobara fished for a compact from her pocket. A small, black mirror, and handed it to Megumi, “See for yourself.”

In the same manner as a child, he snatched the compact from her, expecting them to be losing their minds over nothing particularly funny as usual. Maybe there was a stain on his shirt he didn’t realise was there, or maybe somehow toothpaste had gotten onto his neck. So, flipping the compact open, he brought it to his neck. It took him a few different angles to find what the pair had been laughing so hard at, but eventually, he saw it.

Oh.

You and your fucking lipstick.

A little something you had accidentally— or knowing you, absolutely on purpose— left on his neck before he went to meet up with his friends who had demanded he join them for the day.

He clamped a hand over his neck. “Here.” He muttered, jaw tensed and his gaze averted to the ground as he reached over Yuuji to shove the mirror back into Nobara’s hands.

“You’re not gonna explain?” Yuuji sounded absolutely bewildered, betrayed that Megumi would withhold this information from them; completely forgetting the fact that Megumi was most likely emotionally constipated. Not at all known for being open about his feelings, about himself or towards others. No shit he hadn’t told them he has a girlfriend yet.

Leaning forward so that Megumi could see her over Yuuji’s wider and larger frame, Nobara added, “How long have you even had a girlfriend? I mean, I get not telling Yuuji but c’mon-“

“Hey- Whadd’ya mean you get not telling me?!” Yuuji interrupted, turning his attention to Nobara, once again looking utterly baffled and hurt.

“You know exactly what I mean-“ She began to retort, meanwhile, Megumi took this chance to escape.

Waiting a few seconds to estimate how long the two would spend bickering, he soon alowly rose from the bench, quietly slipping away. And he made a good go of it. Quickly walking away, hands in his pockets as he looked over his shoulder every second of the way, no clue where he was going, but almost fearful the interrogation would continue.

“Hey, wait-“

“Fushiguro, c’mon!-“

He began to walk quicker.

[motomamita]

how does fugitive!könig feel about naive!farmer!reader? does he love her or is he pretending? how did he help her during her pregnancy? I love your texts!💞💞

fugitive!könig × naive!farmer!reader

part 1

warnings: +18, smut, sex pregnancy, emotional manipulation, murder!

after that encounter in the barn, the relationship between you and könig changed. he promised you he'd take care of you and that you should trust him, which you did.könig didn't have to hide his feelings for you anymore; you were all his now.

he took advantage of every situation to tell you how much he loved you and, in the process, to fuck you until you were almost breathless. you let yourself be carried away by him; after all, you loved him and were going to trust him completely.

your belly soon began to grow as the weeks passed. at first, you didn't understand, and your concern grew at the lack of your period. were you sick?

when you told könig, his eyes shone with excitement at the news. he reassured you, saying that you shouldn't worry about anything, that "that's normal when two people love each other," he said.

the news reached you when he took you to the village doctor and confirmed your pregnancy. you didn't have time to ask questions because könig convinced you it was good news, very good news.

könig saw the need for the two of you to get married as soon as possible. the ceremony was at home, intimate and simple. now you bore not only his last name but also his baby's. thus began married life.

as your pregnancy progressed, könig made sure you rested and didn't overexert yourself, taking the utmost care of you. he would get up earlier in the morning to prepare your breakfast and begin the farm chores. however, he also took care of you during the day, massaging your feet and holding your swollen belly to relax your back.

könig decided to change his appearance, growing a mustache and slicking his hair back. his body had also changed, gaining muscle and a few pounds, but still remaining the tall, strong man he was.

for your part, the pregnancy had only made you more beautiful, according to könig. your hair and skin shone, and your breasts had grown in a way that made könig drool every time he saw them.he fell asleep caressing your belly while sucking on your breasts, moaning happily until he fell asleep.

your hormones made you start to desire him more, asking him to stay with you for five more minutes before he went to work outside. and könig couldn't refuse.he made sure to fuck you in the way that was most comfortable and pleasurable for you. his favorite position was cowgirl, so you set the pace and he could see your breasts bouncing near his face. he loved hearing you moan his name every time he spoke to you.

"look at you, riding my cock like a bitch in heat. so full of me, but always wanting more..."

his large, calloused hands caressed your buttocks, helping you fuck yourself with his cock. and they could go on for hours on end, your arousal never going down, and könig would get hard just seeing you carrying his child.

you gave birth to a baby girl in the spring. you named her daisy. könig was over the moon, happier than he'd ever felt.

soon, you grew accustomed to motherhood and the housekeeping that könig had so insisted you follow. you passed by the house, carrying daisy on your hip as your dress blew in the breeze. könig continued working on the farm, knowing that when he entered the house, he'd see you there, waiting for him, excited to tell him what daisy had done during his absence.

"you're such a good mom, fuck, feel how you make me feel."

könig brought your hand to his crotch so you could feel his hard member. daisy was already asleep in her crib, so it was time for you to take care of him.

"at this rate, i think i'm going to put another baby inside you."

könig was on top of you, fucking you at a slow, deep pace while you caressed his back. one of his hands massaged your breast while the other rested on your stomach, feeling his cock slide in and out of you.

"do you feel it? do you feel how deep inside you i am? i'm going to fill you up again until you give me a little brother for daisy."

everything was going great until a young sheriff arrived in town. everyone was happy to have someone to look after them, even you, except for könig.

the problems escalated when he showed up at the farm one day with the idea of meeting everyone in town. you let him in and even offered him a glass of iced tea, which was meant for könig. the sheriff kept asking questions that seemed innocent to you. how did you meet? when did you meet? have you lived here long?

könig instantly noticed the way the sheriff looked at your chest through your blouse, not to mention the mischievous smile that formed on his face when he saw you blush at his not-so-innocent compliments. that idiot wanted to fuck his wife, you.

before könig could act, the sheriff showed up one afternoon when you and diasy were out in town.

"i know who you are. i saw your face on a most-wanted list."

the sheriff spoke, trying not to seem intimidated by könig's size.

"oh yeah? and what are you going to do about it?"

"i'm going to arrest you and save that young woman from a monster like you. in fact, i'm going to take your place."

before he could get the handcuffs out, könig had already smashed his head in with a shovel.

that night before going to sleep, you approached könig, who was cradling daisy in his big arms.

"love, we need to feed the pigs."

"don't worry, i've already taken care of that. they have enough food for several weeks."

[merrybloomwrites]

Find Your Pleasing

Summary: As Harry’s girlfriend, you’re often asked to test Pleasing products before they hit the store. The newest product you’re asked to test is a bit different than the others.

CW: sex toys, vibrator, smut

Word Count: 1.8K

AN: Obviously had to write a story about the newest Pleasing drop. I’m sure there are others out there but I haven’t had a chance to read any yet, so if this is similar to another one I promise it isn’t on purpose

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Being Harry Styles’ girlfriend came with a fair number of responsibilities. There was plenty of traveling, supporting him at shows and movie premiers, helping behind the scenes when needed.

Ever since the start of Pleasing, you’d gained another role. Product tester.

Harry respected your feedback, and always asked your opinion on everything they were working on. He’d spend hours in meetings with the development team and still come home and talk about it more with you.

You might not have an official title in the business, but Pleasing wouldn’t be the same without you.

He never let you go easy on him either. He wanted honest feedback. If you didn’t like a nail color, if a perfume smelled off, if you thought a product wasn’t up to a high enough standard, he wanted to hear it. He asked you to be his harshest critic.

But for some reason, Harry is being quite secretive about the latest meeting. He won’t tell you what they talked about, or what products they’re hoping to drop next.

“You’ll see!” He’d said. “I promise the wait will be worth it.”

After that, he’d taken you to bed. The two of you spent the following hours having a very enjoyable evening, one in which Harry brought out the fun bag of toys hidden away in the closet. By the end, you’d completely forgotten about his earlier secrecy.

But you now realize that you should have put some clues together. Because it’s a couple of weeks later, and Harry just surprised you with a prototype of the newest Pleasing product.

A sex toy. Specifically a vibrator. More specifically, a double ended vibrator.

“Finally giving the people what they expected, huh?” You quip as you begin to look at it.

“I mean, we all knew this would happen eventually,” he replies.

“Yea, a former boy band member turned solo pop sensation was bound to release a sex toy sooner or later. It’s the logical progression.”

“Hey, if Gwyneth Paltrow can release these things so can I,” he defends.

“Oh of course. But I have to admit, her brand name really pulls the customers in.”

“Goop? You think Goop is more attractive to consumers than Pleasing?"

You can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the current conversation. Finally you both pull yourselves together again and Harry hands you the prototype.

“Judge it harshly, okay? This thing needs to be perfect,” he says.

“You want me to use this? Test this out?” You ask incredulously.

“I mean, you are our product tester. And I can’t exactly test it out myself so I could really use your feedback. More important now than ever,” he explains.

“Ah yes, the pleasure of your fans is now in my hands,” you joke.

“Literally,” he replies, smirking and pointing at the vibe.

“Are we doing this right now?”

He gives you a suggestive look but then says, "Only if you want to. Don’t feel pressured.”

It’s that, the fact that his top priority is your comfort, that has you wanting to help him.

“I want to,” you reply.

He smiles and leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He soon deepens it, his arms going to your waist to pull you flush against him. In doing so the box gets squished between you, reminding you both the true objective here.

“Let’s go get comfy,” he says, taking your hand and leading you to the bedroom.

You climb into your bed, laying back against the pillows. Harry lays on top of you, kissing along your neck, his hand teasing your thigh, slipping below the hem of your shorts.

He’s effectively warming you up. Getting you ready.

Soon you’re eager to test the new product, and you pick it up from where you’d left it on the bed. Getting the hint, Harry moves to help you slip out of your shorts.

“You’re excited huh?” He teases when he sees the unmistakable damp spot on your underwear.

“Let’s see what that can do,” you invite.

“It’s double sided,” he says.

“You thought of everything,” you reply.

“Ready?”

“Mhmm.”

He presses a button and you hear a telltale buzz. It’s a bit loud, and you make a mental note to ask him if that can be fixed.

And then it presses to your core. It’s nice. But not the best you’ve had. He presses the button a few more times, showing you the four different modes. The first two are okay. The third is better, and gets you close. The fourth is almost a little too much, and you know it would overstimulate you if you used it too long.

After giving you time to test out all of the modes, he switches back to the one you liked best. Now it’s no longer about product testing, it’s about getting you off. He leans in to meet your mouth in a messy kiss and uses the vibe the way he knows you’ll like. Soon, you’re falling apart, panting and moaning, your nails digging into Harry’s skin.

You catch your breath, and after a few minutes Harry says, “So, what did you think?”

“Well, I really liked that one setting,” you reply with a smile.

“What else?”

So you explain your thoughts, what you liked and what you would change if you could. He takes out his phone and writes down notes, promising to work on fixing the problems.

A few weeks later, Harry comes home with another version of the product. As always, the two of you test it out together. This is better than the first, and you even get to test the other end. Which ends up needing some adjusting. You once again give Harry your feedback, and he listens intently.

The pattern continues, two more versions are tried, and each time you enjoy it more and more.

Finally, he comes home one evening, a large grin on his face and a bag in his hands.

“It’s ready,” he says, causing you to look at him in confusion. That feeling only lasts a moment because a second later he pulls out a box. And right away you know what’s inside.

You excitedly open it, and gasp saying, “I love the color!”

“I know,” he replies, his voice smug. There had been many colors brought up, and you’d really loved the pink and burgundy combination. It’s another choice by Harry that makes you feel special. Like your opinion is what really matters to him.

“Wanna try?” He asks suggestively.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice coming out breathless. You lean in to kiss him, and unlike the fire and lust Harry was expecting, this kiss is full of love and admiration. When you pull back you say, “Thank you, for including me, for listening to me. You don’t have to do that, but it makes me feel like I matter.”

“Of course you matter baby! I could never do this without you. Your support and your feedback with this, with music, with everything, it means more to me than you could ever know.”

You kiss him again, and the two of you stand in the room making out. Things grow heated, and Harry leads you upstairs, making sure the box is still in your hand.

As always, the foreplay is amazing. Harry is attentive, worshipping your body. And then comes the toy. He turns on the top part and brings it down to your core, teasingly running it everywhere but where you need it the most. Finally, he places it against your clit, and your entire body arches off the bed at the jolt of pleasure it brings. He slowly works you up, and soon you’re coming, stars dancing in your vision and moans spilling out of your mouth.

He doesn’t pull away, but instead turns the toy up another notch. As he does that, he begins sliding his fingers inside of you, simultaneously adding to the pleasure while also opening you up. Just minutes later you’re tipping over that edge again, your nails digging into Harry’s arm as waves of your orgasm roll through you. He turns the toy off and pulls it away.

“Good?” he asks.

“Amazing,” you reply.

“Ready for another round?”

“Too sensitive,” you answer. You want more, but both you and Harry know that your clit gets over sensitive after a couple of orgasms.

“Well, I was thinking we use the other end,” he informs you.

Your head pops up to look at him, smiles spreading across both your faces. Because that puts you back in the game. You nod, and Harry brings the other end to your entrance.

“You sure?” He asks.

“Yes, please, want it!”

Harry slides the tip inside, watching your reactions, happy to see the way your eyes roll is pleasure. He pushes more inside, and can tell by your moan the exact second he finds the right place. Knowing the bulbed end is nestled against your g-spot, he turns on the vibration.

“Fuck!” You explain as your back once again arches off the bed. Harry places a hand on your lower stomach to press you back onto the bed, and the added weight makes it even more intense.

He can’t wait any longer, and turns the other end on as well, lining himself up to get some much needed friction on his now weeping cock. He thrusts gently, and his hips against the toy push it in and out of you, giving you the friction needed as well.

The angle adjusts slightly, and your orgasm hits you suddenly. You shout out, and your hips move instinctively to chase the pleasure. After you come down, you gently push Harry’s hand, letting him know to slide out.

He does, and his one hand moves to grip his shaft, quickly moving up and down to chase his own orgasm. His other hand holds the vibe to the crown, and you sit up to take it from him, holding it just right to help him reach his peak. When he comes, it’s with a series of quiet moans, and his cum landing in the wet spot you’d already created.

You turn the toy off, and the only sound in the room is the labored breathing from both of you. Harry pulls you into him, and you readjust to lay together, away from the wet spot.

“So, think people will like it?” He eventually asks, causing you to laugh.

“Oh for sure. It’ll sell out in minutes,” you reply.

The two of you then head to the bathroom to clean up, and Harry meticulously washes the toy, just as he always does. And when this new box joins the others in the closet, you know it will be taken out and used quite frequently.

Afterall, how many people have boyfriends who custom design a sex toy with their girlfriends in mind?

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AN: thanks for reading, hope you all have a lovely week!

[springismss]

“I try to make sense of your thousands of pages of writings. You really do write like you're running out of time” Okay because hear me out rq Dabi x reader but Dabi dies in the war and while going through his room/ stuff the reader finds notes/ letters made for her, but they are all messy and kinda just all over the place because he knew he was running out of time

ᱬ⛧ running out of time ~ dabi

pairing: dabi x girlfriend! reader

content: sfw - angst, post-war setting, implied grief feelings, just reader missing dabi.

word count: 1.3k

links: requests masterlist | bnha/mha masterlist | masterlist

a/n: thank you for the request, anon! i hope this is something like what you wanted. tried to be as messy as possible but not so much that it took away from the flow of the request. enjoy! as always, likes, comments and re-blogs are deeply appreciated.

The one person you wished to be by your side for the rest of your lives until you both grew old, your ride or die, the person you gave every single part to, was gone.

As quickly as they entered your life in a ball of flame, they exited the same way. Your heart beating painfully as you stood at the door of their room, hand resting on the handle as you fought your inner battles. You didn't want to be here, doing this, but you wouldn't let anyone else.

Sucking in a breath, you let it out in a shaky sigh as you pushed the handle down, opening the door that groaned as you opened it further. Stepping into the dark room, you closed the door behind you with a click as you turned on the light.

It was a mess, clothes scattered everywhere, cans littering the desk and pieces of scrunched paper flung across the floor. While it would have normally bothered you, you took a moment to find a small comfort in the familiarity.

Carefully stepping forward, you bent down and grabbed some clothes, bringing them up to your face to smell. They still smelled like him - cigarettes, spearmint and a cologne he'd never tell you the name of until he was ready, something you'd never know the name of now. A smell that had tears pricking at your eyes as you brought the clothes to your chest, trying to remember how he felt against you.

It had only been a few days since Dabi had left the fucked-up world, leaving you behind to try and find your way. Not that you wanted to without him by your side.

Taking a few more steps forward, you reached his bed and let the clothes drop from your hands, reaching for the hoodie he always wore whenever he was lazing around. You took a moment to take your jacket off, pulling on the item of clothing in your grasp. The familiar feeling of his presence washing over you.

You stood there for a moment, trying to take in everything before you glanced over your shoulder, seeing drawers in the desk. Opting to start there, you turned on your heel and walked over. "Guess this is as good as any place to start".

Pulling out the chair, you gripped the handle of the top drawer and pulled it open, the force shaking the desk slightly. Glancing inside, you saw a mixture of things: empty cigarette boxes, half-filled lighters, broken pencils and pens, bits of paper with random words scribbled on. Reaching in, you grabbed hold of the small stack of papers, placing them on the desk before picking up the top piece.

'Since the very first fucking day'.

Raising your brow, it didn't make much sense on its own until you glanced at the piece of paper underneath it.

'I always knew it was you, doll. Is this what people call love? I don't dislike it yet'.

You felt your eyes burning, tears threatening to fall as you placed what you had in your hand to one side. Taking in a shaky breath, you slowly exhaled, trying to calm yourself before moving another piece of paper, eyes glancing down to the messy letter written, scribbles, and doodles etched on the page.

My sweet little doll;

I think we both know how much I fucking suck at trying to express my feelings, so let me try this way.

From the moment I met your ass in that warehouse back when it was just the two of us, you looked so timid and scared, and I thought you looked weak as shit.

Turns out I was wrong and I'm fucking glad I was.

You're more than someone who I love with all of my fucked-up mind and broken heart, you're my better half. The one person I know I can rely on, no matter what happens with these losers. The only person I've ever given all of myself to, only to receive nothing but your pure love back.

You don't look at me like I'm the most disgusting person on this fucked up planet. You look at me like I'm the reason for your smile and the gentle touches. Like you love me more than you've ever loved anyone before.

True, I may act like a fucking asshole, but in your weird way, you understand that's how I show you mean to me when we're around other people.

I guess I want to say, don't stop being you. My little doll,

I fucking love you.

Dabi

The ache in your heart increased as you scanned the words. It was true, he was an asshole, but you knew that was his way of showing you he loved you; besides, when the two of you were alone, that's when he'd open up.

You shuffled through more of the papers and his stuff, coming across more notes and letters, words that he wanted to say but never got a chance to.

'Was so fucking happy here, want to go back' - was found on the back of a photo of the two of you together, taken by Toga when you managed to sneak into the fairground before it opened. Dabi's arms wrapped around you as you gripped onto them, pulling a face, only for him to look down at you like you were the most precious thing in his world. He looked happy, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, a smile only you would ever get to see.

'Wish I had more time, please wait for me' - scribbled on a note folded neatly, signed with Touya, the one name he trusted you and only you to know before everyone else.

'I keep writing these things, you're not going to find them unless I'm gone' - written on a scrunched-up piece of paper you'd picked up off the floor, the edges charred slightly like he tried to burn it but changed his mind.

A crossed out 'I love you', 'wanted more time' and 'I wish I could have given you something better', followed by soft words of 'I believe you now, I am human. I wish I could take you somewhere calm and peaceful. Somewhere where the air is clear and smells like a fresh crisp morning. That's where I'd hold you until the end of our time. Away from the ashes' - written on a half-torn page in his journal, almost like he was ready to give it to you.

'The way your smile lights up my world in a way I never thought possible' - written on a piece of cardboard, ripped from a box you'd given him one day.

'Your voice, your lips, your touch. Doll, you do things to me you don't even know. I...' - Written in the photo album you gave him, an album full of photos that only he would ever get to see. The last few words were illegible, smeared by what looked like water.

The more you looked, the more you discovered. Little snippets of how Dabi was feeling at the time, or how you assumed he was feeling. Scribbled out words, charred edges and drops of black dye covering half of the words. The way he still lingered in the air the deeper you looked.

Your heart broke with each thing you found, each memory he kept, each word written. You wanted him back, wanted him in your arms as you both lay in bed together, limbs wrapped around each other as you gave into the pleasure only he could give to you.

His smell, his presence, you could feel it slowly slipping away, fingers dragging around what you found in a desperate bid to cling onto what little you had left of him.

A broken sob passing your lips as you gripped onto the hoodie you wore, your knuckles turning white as you tried to console yourself. The only person capable of doing such a thing was now missing from your life.

Your mind was a mess from the messages you found, the notes scribbled, and the letters penned. Not ready to take the leap and read any more, you couldn't take the heartache to know he was gone.

© springismss 2025 - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

[disapprove]

"I was not scared!" She exclaimed in defense, chuckling as she kicked off her boots and threw a small, decorate cushion to Chase as he laid on the bed. "You're so full of yourself. My dad only likes you because he used to be a quarterback, too. But do tell me what he said, I'm curious to find out what you spoke of." She mumbled with a roll of her eyes, moving towards the bed to sit beside him. "Tomorrow morning we'll feed the animals and then I'm taking you with me to the farmers market. We'll get some groceries, we can do some horse riding, and I have a surprise for you later that night." Abigail said with a wiggle of her brows, looking down at him with a smile. "I like having you here." Abby admitted. "Because I brought you here because I thought you'd like it, escape your life and the business and all that. None of this was for me, or my status or whatever. I just wanted you and me to have some other time, you know? To be ourselves." Other time? She probably meant having him actually for herself, being with him without any of their friends with opinions or people she compared herself to, exes she needed to worry about. And be able to get to know him a little more. Abby felt like he needed to know that. That she wasn't using him for anything to bring him here. "So feel free to explore the place, relax. And if you don't like it, also feel free to go." Abby said with a smirk, fingertips moving through his dark locks for a few seconds. "But I'd rather have you stay because I - really like you." The words left her before she realized and her cheeks flushed heavily, a short and breathy laugh falling from her lips. "Having you here, I like having you around." Shut up, maybe? :) She thought to herself.

chase could hold a conversation with just about anyone, and he hadn't found himself getting easily scared so it had come as second nature when he was speaking her to father. but it was still nice to know that he didn't hate him, seemed to take the conversation well and chase had relaxed a little more. dinner had gone off well, getting to know everyone a little bit more as he also answered any question they might have about him, but chase also liked just listening to abigail talk and catch up with her parents. once they were done eating and cleaning up the pair had returned back upstairs, as chase found himself falling back against the mattress, looking over to her standing there.

❝ told you they were gonna love me, and you were scared. ❞ he grinned, winking over to the girl as he relaxed into the mattress. obviously this wasn't something that friends typically did, coming home and meeting the family, but he had to admit that he liked that she had wanted him here. even if he did have to show up a little later than her. ❝ what's on the schedule for tomorrow? should i be worried that i'm going to be forced to do manual labor? ❞ 

[mmatchadd]

YOU CARE ABOUT EVERYONE BUT YOURSELF, STOP IT.

requested by @hufflepuff-girl-1996: Haikyuu boiz are at the trainig camp with nekoma ect. It's BBQ day and reader helps serving food and stuff like that. Whenever reader offers to bring Tsukishima some food (cause the others are fighting for it like hell) ore something to drink, he's like how he is... something like 'thanks but no thanks, not necessery and something like that. At noon she makes him food and place it in the fridge. That's where he comfronts her. Cause he notice that she cares more for others but not for herself. And that's where the soft but lightly heated confess beginns... 😊 (Well if you like... of course)

a/n: idk why it didn’t allow me to answer your ask in my inbox, so sorry about that AND the wait😭 I was busy and I love your request lol! So I hope you enjoy it love 💕

Your job as manager was to keep the players in check, make sure they had all their equipment and were overall prepared. So you didn’t mind cooking for them at the BBQ, honestly, it was fun! You had the chance to talk to other female managers from the other teams— it was nice but a short lived moment before you had to hit the grill and prepare food for the boys. As you’re walking around, passing out drinks and utensils to the people who needed it— you noticed Tsukishima, sitting on some steps minding his business, like always. You approached him with a small smile and a plate of food. You and Tsukishima have never really talked to each other, nothing more than an “are you okay?” or “here is your water bottle.” He had his usual annoyed or stoic look on his face, although he was pretty intimidating at times: you had no choice but to converse with him since this is who you’ll be taking care of for the rest of the season.

“Hey, Tsukishima. Are you hungry? This meat is fresh off the grill” you say with a smile, trying your best to come off as an inviting and warm person. He looked at you and fixed his glasses before saying “yeah, no thanks y/n, I’m okay” before averting his attention else where. Your smile faltered before regaining a smile that was plastered on your now concerned face “Are you sure, tsuki? They’ll be plenty more left.” You asked. “Yes, y/n..I’m sure.” He said. You noticed the tone in his voice “was he annoyed? Was I being pushy? Or overbearing?..no, he’s always like that!” With a small sigh, you smile and nod before walking away, passing the plate of meat to the next person who’d want it. Even while you were preoccupied with making sure your team ate and had fun— you made a mental note to make food for Tsukishima still. Even if he said he wasn’t hungry or it wasn’t necessary, he was bound to get hungry eventually. You made it your job for your team to be satisfied. He couldn’t help but eye you down as you walked away, internally beating himself up for the way he spoke to you— the stoicism in his voice, the agitation in his throat- god why was he so stuck up! He doesn’t even know why he was agitated. He saw the way your smile fell and how you brought it back just for the sake of it. And that’s what he liked— no loved about you.

sometime later, as the sun is setting by the hour and the chilly winds pick up— everyone goes inside after helping clean the outside area. You and few other managers were the last to come in after cleaning up some of the mess the others missed on the blacktop and tables. You stayed behind a bit to fix Tsukishimas plate, some food you put to the side for him because you still remember to fix him something before the day ended. Even if it meant staying outside a little later to cook for one person. Obviously, this did not go unnoticed by Tsukishima— he was still by the door talking with the other first years as you finished up the cooking.

They left before you could put a lid ontop of his food and make your way to the door. Everyone had gone to their rooms or walked around the campus by now, but here you were, taking care of a stubborn Tsukishima past his bedtime. You didn’t mind but you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed..at what though? You couldn’t think of a valid reason to be annoyed at the moment, probably besides the fact that you haven’t ate yourself. You were too busy running after your team to make sure they were content with their meal rather than sitting down and eating yourself when you had the chance to. As you opened the fridge and made space for his container of food, you could feel a presence behind you. And to your surprisement, you look back and see Tsukishima. You give him a small smile with the little energy you had left in your body

You turned around to face him, that little smile still on your face. He eyed you down and studied your disheveled appearance, how your shirt was a bit dirty from condiments and charcoal, your forehead slightly glistening with sweat due to standing infront of a hot grill for the longest and walking around in the heat with plates and drinks. You saw how he looked at you and quickly the tension became thick and suffocating. Before you could say anything, he spoke first “Have you even eaten, y/n?” you couldn’t lie to him, because if you did he’d call you out on your bullshit— whatever lie you were thinking of quickly slipped through your train of thoughts when he spoke again. with a sigh he said: “you’re always running around for other people, you don’t even realize you look a mess right now.”

Taken aback you look down at yourself and he was right: your shirt is dirty, so are your hands and your shoelaces are undone. You were undeniably lost for words, you hope he isn’t here to criticize you for doing your job..but the way he looks at you while telling you about yourself—tell you a different story; he cares. He wouldn’t bother you of all people if he didn’t care. You look up at him, messing with the hem of your shirt..you don’t know what to do or say in this situation.

Tsukishima sees your body language and immediately straightens himself out. He purses his lips and sigh “I..just don’t like how you run around for other people but not yourself, y/n.” He looks down at you— eyes softer than ever. He closes the gap between you two as you muffled out a sorry, because in reality: he was right. No one has ever went out their way to do anything for you, even when it wasnt needed; they didn’t care about you. You would spend your own money on the team..buying them food and sometimes new equipment whenever theirs broke. But whos doing anything for you? You knew what you were doing but maybe you needed to hear it from someone else.

Tsukishima was never one to be so physically and emotionally vulnerable to anyone, not even his close friend or family. So the hug he’s pulling you into is from his heart, it’s a genuine gesture something he knew you needed. You didn’t sob into his chest but he noticed how jagged your breathing was, the inconsistent heaving of your chest like you were trying to catch up to your breathing. He stood there hugging you, no words spoken just a flat silence as you hugged him back. No more words needed to be said or uttered, he sees you and hears you.

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Love Letters & Prank Calls

Joe Burrow x Black Reader/OC

Des: During Venus’ Media Tour for ‘Tell Me You Love Me’ she stops by Elle and they have her play a little game.

TW | 18+ : Language, Pranks (duh), Use of Looney Tunes characters as insults, suggestive messages, crack treated seriously, comedic relief besties, green flags and major crashouts.

WC: 2,890

More: #Track9 Masterlist | J. Burrow Masterlist

Walking into the ELLE Magazine building, the air shifted from a muggy NYC morning to a fresh, lilac scent as you and your assistant were escorted to the elevator.

"So we're going to get you into hair and makeup first, not that you really need any." Emma, ELLE's project manager, smiles as she runs through today's visit.

"I'm on day 6 of this twist out, all it needs is some water and mousse. And y'all are more than welcome to doll me up, I love getting my makeup done."

Emma lights up and sends a message on her phone. "I'll let them know upstairs. We're very excited to have you here."

You smile softly, "I really appreciate that. Thank you for having us."

"Zelma," Emma looks to your raven-haired assistant. "Thank you as well for sending us Ms. Venus' measurements and preferences."

Zelma nods bashfully, pushing some of her leave-out behind her ear.

"And please just call me Y/n, I love my alter ego, but it's a little too early for that diva." You chuckle as the elevator reaches the 12th floor.

Emma nods respectfully, then leads you out of the elevator and into a makeup chair. You glance briefly at a wall clock, 8:07. Entirely too early for your liking, but the shoot must go on.

Once the ELLE team introduces themselves and gets started on making you look more alive, time seems to move much faster- or maybe you fell asleep. Either way, they worked smoothly, and the finished product was beautiful. The base was lightweight and had a natural finish, complementing your everyday dark liner and pink glossy look, while the eyes took center stage with a bold purple winged shadow and glitter on the lid.

"Oh, I look hot, you guys are going to have to teach me how to recreate this. I probably wouldn't do it justice though." They chuckled as you shamelessly posed in the mirror.

"We freelance too, just so you know. We have no problem hitching a flight to the Midwest for you." One of the artists, a dark-skinned woman named Sheila, winked.

You meet her smirk with your own. "I like you. I'll have Zelma collect your information. I am still looking for a team to take on tour with me."

Both Sheila's and her partner's eyes sparkle at the idea. The latter, Paula, spoke up first. "We'd be honored to tour with you. Send us the details, and we'll work it out perfectly."

"I leave you for an hour and you're already stealing my artists." Emma grins, her heels softly clacking on the marble floor as she enters the room like a boss with her iPad of plans.

"You have very good people here, sharing is caring, you know." You tease as a wardrobe follows behind her.

"Indeed, it is. Let's see how many of these you'll steal."

The answer: all of it.

The rack immediately spoke to you. Vabriant jumpsuits range from rosy pink to fuchsia and deep purple, paired with platform rhinestoned heels to match, and the jewelry they brought in... You needed it all. This was no longer a photoshoot; you were shopping now.

You tried on every pair of heels, posed in your favorite pieces, and found yourself having way more fun than you imagined during this shoot.

Soon, the photographer was replaced with a videographer, your makeup was touched up, and you put your glasses back on for the next segment.

"Alright, 'Phoning It In', our version of prank calling. We'll read you a challenge; you can say no if it makes you uncomfortable. We do not want to create any problems for future collaborations. You'll be able to use your phone, but you have to tell us who you are going to call for each one." Madaleine, the producer, says as they change around some parts of the set.

"Sounds fun, you guys are professionals, so I trust you." You agree to the terms. "I do have to warn you, my friends have potty mouths. Prepare to censor out a lot of language. I also apologize if I slip up."

"No worries, it happens all the time. We want you to act as naturally as possible on the phone. We will censor anything you need us to." She reassures.

"Fantastic, let's get rolling then!"

“Hi, I’m Venus and I’m here at ELLE to play a game called Phoning It In. I have a list of challenges that will be putting my very novice acting skills to the test as I prank some of my closest friends.”

“Have you done anything like this before?” An off screen producer asks.

“Was I the one who started prank-calling people at parties? No, but do I know how to star 67 numbers…” She smirks, looking away from the camera.

“That wasn’t the question. Anyway! I think this is going to be fun. I love any excuse to go full theatre kid, so I have a good feeling about this. I will say, I am usually the friend who has their phone on DND, so hopefully they don’t immediately clock me.”

“Oooo okay… I’m gonna text Leon Thomas, he’s the main producer on the album, so he’ll definitely have the best worse reaction.” She chuckles, opening her phone and calling him on speaker.

“Hey V, what’s going on?” Leon cheerily picks up after two rings.

Venus takes a deep breath and tries to get into her acting bag. “Oh my god, you will not believe what happened.” She fake sobs.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s wrong? What happened?” Leon’s tone shifts instantly.

Her voice hitches. “My PR found unreleased tracks on SoundCloud… Only you had access to the final cut of the album… D-Did you leak the record?” 

The line goes silent for a few seconds. “Ain’t not god*mn way. I ain’t leak sh*t V. Are you serious? What the f*ck man?” 

“It’s almost all out there- I’m looking at it right now…” She covers her mouth to keep her giggles in check while she hears freakishly fast typing on the other side.

“Hell nah, I’ll fire this dumb*ss intern today if the shit- V I don’t see shit on here. What’d they leak it under?”

“You didn’t? Oh, okay.” She drops the act. “Because if you did, we’d have a major problem considering this was a prank.”

“What?! Aw hell, V, you got me hot, that’s not right.” Leon groans in relief.

“I’m sorry, bro. I’m doing a bit for Elle, they asked me to cry and ask if you leaked the album.” She chuckles.

“Aight, you better not do that shit again or Imma really leak some shit. Remember T****?”

Her eyes widen. “Woah woah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I promise not to prank call you anymore. Love you, byeee.”

He laughs harder. “Deuces.” 

“Lord, could y'all bleep out the last thing he said?” She chuckles nervously.

“Is T**** something from the vault?”

“Oh girl, deep in the vault and should never see the light of day. If y'all ever hear that one, I’m not gonna be the one singing it.” She snorts, shaking her head.

“Alright, what’s next?”

“Oh I know the perfect person for this. I’m calling my best friend, we came up with the title together while lying on my living room floor.” She smiles, calling her up.

“Well, look who’s finally calling me back. I was about to subtweet you, b*tch.” Mars’ voice comes through colorfully, laced with a joking tone.

“Oh I’m sorry, a b*tch’s been working all day. I have an album to promote, remember?”

“Yeah yeah yeah. Heard it all before…”

“So you know it’s true. Speaking of the album, I was thinking about changing the name of it.” She smirks to the camera.

“Ummm it’s coming out in like a week. Isn’t it a little too late for that?”  Mars asks, perfectly skeptical.

“Nah, but hear me out, though.”

“I’m listening, as always.” She says somewhat thoughtfully.

“The Events Leading to Track 9.” Venus says straight-faced. “So…? What we think- oh my god she’s FaceTiming me.” 

After answering the FaceTime, Mars goes off. “Y/n. Y/n Y/m Y/n.”

“Damn, just put my full name out there, why don’t you?” She playfully rolls her eyes.

“Girl, shut up. That’s either the best PR trick you could do or the f*cking worst. Don’t you dare change the name of that album.” Mars glares at her.

“But why not? It’s technically true.”

“It’s not though, it’s dumb. It should be ‘The Events After Track 9’.” Mars smirks, they both start laughing.

“Not you trying to help this ridiculous idea.”

“B*tch if I remember correctly, the whole track 9 dilemma was the ridiculous idea.” She points out, rightfully so.

“You went along with you- in fact you encouraged it.”

“Well that’s what happens when an evil spirit has influenced you.” 

Venus scoffs, not hurt but a tad annoyed. “B*tch, f*ck you. This was a prank, by the way, and that was foul. Take it back.”

“Can’t it’s already in the world. Since when do you prank call people? You hate calling people in general.”

V nods to the Elle camera. “That’s very true. I hate being on the phone. I’d rather burn my processor up with FaceTime. Anyway, I’m with Elle. Say hi.” She turns her phone towards the camera.

“Oh, heyyy! Wait, y'all didn’t make her sing? I swear to God, this girl lives for song association; she just starts belting out the first thing that comes to mind. Watch V.” 

She chuckles, facing the camera again. “Hit me.”

“No, tell me Lose My Breath didn’t just start playing in your head?”

“It did…” She throws her head back in giggles. “The second I said it, the drums came in.”

“Wanna sing some of it?” A producer asks.

“Yesssss make her sing!” Mars encourages.

Venus shrugs, looking around like she’s thinking. “I don’t know… it might be in- 

‘Can you keep up, baby boy. Make me lose my breath…”

“Y'all think you’re slick. I wonder who I should call.” She snorts, throwing the card. 

“We have no idea what you could be talking about.” Everyone in the background laughs.

“So who’re you gonna call?”

Venus sighs dramatically, then picks up her phone. “I’m calling my boyfriend, get ready to censor some of this out.” She smirks as the phone rings.

The producer hands her the lyrics to her song, which she accepts gratefully while the dial tone plays.

“If this man doesn’t pick up-

“Baby hold on, gotta get rid of the strays.” Joe’s calm, deep voice comes through the speaker.

“Oh no, here we go again…” She sighs, taking the opportunity to start the prank realistically.

“I know, I know. Alright, I’m in the car. How’re ya doing, pretty girl?” 

“I don’t know, still fighting over what I said? I’m sorry.” 

He sighs remembering the brief argument they had before she left. “Baby, Y/n, we don’t have to talk about this over the phone.”

“I’m sorry.” She mutters against the speaker, then winks to the camera.

“You have nothing to be sorry about; we both make mistakes and get upset sometimes,” Joe says softly, his voice full of understanding. 

Venus frowns, mouthing, ‘he’s too good for this.’

“I’m bad at love, I’m not good at this.” She continues.

“Y/n stop,” He sighs, “I don’t want this to bring you down, you know how I feel about your bouts of self-deprecation. Especially when I’m not there to hold you and make it all better.”

“But I can’t say that I’m innocent.” She adds a scoff-like laugh. “Not hardly, but I’m sorry.”

“Babe, what is this about? Are you okay? Do you need me to come to New York, cause I’ll jump on a flight right now.”

*Everyone behind the camera coos in awe. Venus throws her head back kicking her feet, everyone in the room can tell this is killing her. But she’s committed.

She takes a deep breath, both in necessity and for drama. “All my friends they know and it’s true..” She sniffles. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

“Impossible, you might be the love of my life but that’s not all you are. You’re an incredible songwriter, a beautiful kind person and the best singer I have ever heard. Without me, you’ll always be a star, I’m here to make sure you shine brighter.” Joe’s voice is full of love and warmth that ultimately makes her crack.

“Oh my god, baby. I can’t do this.” Y/n shakes her head and switches to a video call.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong now, beautiful?” Joe fills the frame with a soft but concerned smile. His hair slicked back with sweat and only the top of his white tank top can be seen, his lightly tanned skin flushed since he just finished working out.

“Yes, babe I’m so sorry I put you through that. It was a prank. I’m here with ELLE, say hi.” She explains turning her phone so he can see the camera crew.

“Hi everyone.” Joe sighs of relief, a small chuckle following. “Jesus, babe. I thought you were about to break up with me or worse. I’m glad you’re okay, even though you scared the shit out of me.”

She laughs guiltily. “I know, I’ll make it up to you when I get back, promise.”

“I’ll be looking forward to that.” He does the oddly attractive eyebrow thing.

“Oh my god, bye babe. And don’t tell Ja’Marr yet, I might have to prank him next.” 

“Got it, you know your acting has gotten way better than you think.”

“I’ll absolutely take that compliment. Bye handsome, I love you.” He responds softly then she ends the call. “That was f*cking brutal. What’s next?”

“Since you already have someone in mind…

“Oh f*ck, the second that leaves my mouth he’s going to call Joe. Yall are about to trigger this man. No one here is prepared for an Uno crashout. Brace yourselves.” Venus giggles as the phone rings.

“Yo V, what’s up? Miss me yet?” Ja’Marr’s cocky and annoying ‘little brother’ tone comes through the phone easily.

She rolls her eyes. “No bighead, I need some advice. Like real advice, no bullsh*t.”

“Real advice? Why me though? What about Joe?”

“Well, its not exactly news he’d like to hear.” She says unsettlingly.

“Oh lord, hit me.”

“So my agent called and told me ABC is considering me as the next Bachelorette. What do you think I should-

“HELL NAH! UNLESS SHIESTY IS JOINING YOU BETTER TELL THEM FOOLS NO.”

Y/n holds back her laugh trying to maintain her composure. “This could be a big opportunity for me. My audience could grow, think about the publicity.”

“THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE WORRIED ABOUT? DIDN’T YOUR LAST ALBUM GO PLATINUM?”

“Jay, that’s not the point.”

“THE HELL IT IS. I'M CALLING JOE- ACTUALLY HE JUST PULLED UP, STAY ON THE DAMN LINE.” They can audibly hear the door slam as Ja’Marr leaves his house to go next door. Y/n mutes the call to let out the giggles she couldn’t hold in for much longer.

“I predicted this! He lives next door to us by the way.” Then they all hear it.

“BURROW, YOU NEED TO HEAR THIS SHIT! YOUR GIRL WANTS TO GO ON THE F*CKING BACHELORETTE! I think- NOPE I know she’s lost her mind. I don’t know what the hell you were fighting about before she left, but you need to fix this shit. HERE.” The phone is shoved into the quarterback’s chest. Joe smirks and holds it up to his ear.

“Hey baby, the bachelorette huh?”

Y/n unmutes the phone, chuckling. “It’s a good one right?”

“Oh yeah, Uno’s lost his sh*t. Told you acting might be your next mission.”

Ja’Marr scoffs, his voice softer, but no less enraged due to the distance from the phone. “Acting? On REALITY TV? That's the dumbest f*cking sh*t, I’ve ever f*cking heard! Wait, why the h*ll are you smiling for? I swear if y'all pulling that break up shit on me again…

“JA’MARR, call the hell down. It’s a prank, daffy.”

Joe bursts out laughing while Ja’Marr snatches the phone back. “F*ck you, you’re the d*mn Looney Toon. That shit wasn’t funny. You and your damn boyfriend deserve to go to h*ll for that.”

“It wasn’t that bad.” Joe says out of breath from his laughter.

“You nasty ass bunnies deserve each other. Get the fuck off my lawn Burrow.”

“It’s mine too, asshole!”

“Okay that’s enough, they will bicker for hours.” Y/n snorts ending the call. “I hope yall are entertained.” 

‘It was everything and more.’ The producer chuckles.

Venus shakes her head as they give her the cue to do the outro.

“Thank you guys for watching, I hope you enjoyed. And make sure to check out my new album ‘Tell Me You Love Me'. Bye…”

“AND CUT!”

‘Do you mind telling us what this mystery argument was about?” Someone asks.

Venus just smirks. “I refused to give him a back rub the night before I left. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, ya’know?”

A/N: Send me some love if you enjoyed this not so mini/bonus chapter. More bonus content will be found at the bottom of #Track9’s official masterlist (which is linked up top). 🩷

[rekino2114]

Dandadan idea: momo and aira are fighting over m!reader and at a certain point the group gets attacked by a yokai/alien and the girls get ready to protect him but when they get hurt too y/n turns in his yokai form and beats the enemy with their help and later explains to the girls that he was actually cursed by a yokai at a young age and so now can use its powers and didn't tell them because he was scared of how they'd react (they actually think he looks really hot in his yokai form)

Momo and Aira seeing your yokai form for the first time

Pairing:momo ayase x male reader x aira shiratori

A/n:to be honest I have no idea why I got so much into writing this and this is so long, I think I just really wanted to write for dandadan and also just like writing action scenes. Also you basically take okarun's place in this.

I really enjoyed writing this and kinda feel like this could be part of a series so let me know if you have any ideas for more parts also first dandadan post so hope you enjoy!

"Y/nnnnn~"

You could recognize that sweet if fakely innocent voice anywhere so you sighed and turned around seeing exactly what you expected, aira running towards you with her arms extended

"I knew you were here"

You sighed and a bit reluctantly hugged aira back

"Hi aira"

After she let the hug go on for way too long aira pulled back and looked at you with a wide smile before emitting a clearly exaggerated gasp

"Wait don't tell me you don't have anyone to have lunch with!?"

"Actually i-"

"How cruel! Did all your friends really leave you?"

"I just prefer-"

"Well luckily for you, I have some free time, so I'll gladly keep you company, I even brought you a bento in case you didn't have anything to eat"

She started searching through her bag presumably for the aforementioned bento, but you stopped her by putting a hand on her shoulder

"It's fine, I have my own food, let's just sit somewhere and eat"

Aira smiled even brighter seeing that you agreed to her proposal and hugged you again causing you to blush

"Thanks! I promise this will be the best date ever"

"....h-huh? W-wait date?"

[Timeskip brought to you by chibi y/n cutting chibi aira's hair in her silky acrobat form......only for it to grow back immediately]

"And then she tried to tell me it was my fault! Can you believe it? *sighs* sometimes being born this beautiful comes with its issues"

".....s-sure"

You considered yourself a friend of aira's. sure she was vain and two faced at times, but you knew that inside, she was a genuinely nice girl and a good person, especially because lately for whatever reason she started being...nicer than usual, she only rarely used her influence and popularity to put others down (and when she did it was always against momo for some reason) and stopped flirting with random people.....in fact it seemed like her flirting moved to only one person:you

Because the mellowing of her more negative traits seemed to be accompanied by her flirting with you increasing exponentially, at first you thought it was a joke or something like that but she had been doing it for so long that that answer became much less plausible

"So anything new happened lately?"

"Oh nothing, same boring life, what about you?"

Aira seemed to contemplate your question for a bit before putting her free hand on her hearth in a gesture you didn't understand and looking up at the sky

".....yeah...same boring life"

".....o-ok"

Aira closed her eyes seemingly lost in thought before she laid her head on your shoulder making you blush even more

".....You're warm"

"T-thank you I guess"

You considered gently pushing her away but something inside you told you not to, her earlier gesture confused you but it also somehow made you understand that she went trough some hard times so she probably needed the comfort and so you let her rest there for a while

"HEY! WHAT'S GOING ON OVER HERE!?"

Well that was a very short rest

"Oh momo"

You opened your eyes to see the brown haired girl staring in your direction with an angry expression

"What's up?"

"You even have the courage to tell me th-"

"AH THE DEMON IS HERE!"

Suddenly you saw aira opened her eyes too, dug in her back again and took out....a crucifix?

"STAY AWAY DEMON! I WON'T LET YOU BRAINWASH Y/N FOR YOUR EVIL PURPOSES!"

".......what?"

"Still with that story? Do I have to remind you that now you're more demon than me now?"

Aira gasped and momo widened her eyes and looked you as if realizing she shouldn't have said that in front of you

"Stop spreading lies about me demon!"

You....didn't know what was going on but you had seen momo and aira fight enough times (weirdly enough always when you were around) that you knew you had to stop them, so you both hands on aira's shoulders causing her to look back at you

"Come on aira, stop it, momo didn't do anything"

".....y/n"

She looked back at momo and put back the crucifix in her bag as if that would allow her to get closer

"You're lucky y/n is so generous to give you a chance, but don't try anything ok? If you hurt him in any way i'll-

"Yeah yeah I get it"

Momo purposely sat in the middle of you two blocking your contact

"So, what were you doing here?"

"Having lunch"

"In the courtyard?"

"I saw y/n had no one to eat with so I accompanied him here"

"I just like eating alone more, but if it's with you two then I don't mind"

Momo and aira both blushed before immediately resuming to glare at each other

".....why are you so hostile to each other?"

"It's obvious! I'm trying to stop this demon from ending the world!"

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm not a demon!"

"That's exactly what a demon would say!"

You immediately regretted asking that question and just let them argue while you ate in silence

"And why are you getting so close to y/n huh? Know he'll never join you! And I won't let you hurt him"

"I'm not gonna hurt him!"

"Can you please stop?"

Your pleading got completely ignored as they continued arguing and screaming so you just sighed and put back the container of your food in your bag before getting up from the bench and starting to walk away, once they saw that momo and aira starting following you while still fighting

You sighed and continued walking until you saw something that made your eyes widen

"......hey girls.....where is the school?"

"Huh?"

The two girls looked ahead of them and saw that a giant display of tress covered everything their eyes could see

".....w-what the-"

"Since when is there a forest here?"

"I swear we were in the courtyard just a while ago and....h-huh!?"

You turned around and saw that trees were behind you too and on your right and left as well

"W-wait the forest....is all around us?"

"I can't even see the bench anymore! The hell's happening!?"

"......this is definitely......a yokai's doing!"

You and aira's eyes widened at what momo said, aira's even more than yours as she fully understood what she meant

"....w-what are you talking about?"

Suddenly momo turned around and pointed at something

"I-i can feel its presence!"

What she pointed at seemed like a wooden doll of an old woman at first, it had holes in all of its wooden "skin" even two eye holes that were completely empty and white hair that seemed made of leaves. It didn't move for a while, giving you time to admire how it swayed with the wind before it lowered the wooden scepter it was holding in one hand, and the entire atmosphere changed. The wind stopped and the figure raised its head when suddenly two green orbs appeared in its eye holes to seemingly mimic a pair of eyes

".......w-what the fuck is that?"

Momo looked at you in surprise

"Y-you can actually see it? Now that I think about it, the fact that you were pulled here in the first place would mean-"

"Respect nature"

The deep, raspy voice coming out of the wooden idol made you stop your conversation and look towards it. As soon as it finished uttering those words, the tree branches changed, they got sharper and longer, even the roots expanded and moved in your direction trying to stab you. You closed your eyes and braced for impact only to be surprised when nothing happened

You opened your eyes that the roots stopped in mid air, it looked like a giant hand was holding them in place right in front of you

"Ngh!"

You turned around and saw that momo was holding her hands up in your direction before she waved them and the roots dislodged from the tree and flew away. you didn't know what happened, but you knew momo saved you somehow

"M-momo?"

"Aira! Transform!"

"Don't order me around, and don't act as if I wouldn't have done that in the first place"

You couldn't believe your eyes as you saw aira grow much taller, her hair did the same, growing until it reached the ground and not stopping even there while becoming a more reddish color. The most noticeable difference, however, was the strange mask that resembled a skeleton that started to cover her mouth and the left side of her face, leaving aira with a sharp array of teeth and one hollow eye

"As if I would let anything hurt my beloved"

As she said that her voice became much deeper and distorted too

"A-aira!? What the!?"

In a flash aira wasn't in the same spot anymore and when you looked around you saw her move between the different trees at incredible speed until she moved behind the wood creature ready to land a kick.....that did almost nothing when it connected

"Eh-"

With a swing of the yokai's stick, aira was sent flying in the opposite direction. When this happened, momo screamed her name and focused her powers on the yokai, making it crush into a nearby rock formation, giving aira enough time to go back near momo, wiping blood off her face and breathing heavily

"What happened?"

"That yokai....it's so resistant! I kicked it and it did nothing, it felt like hitting an actual tree!"

"What? Then how the hell are we supposed to beat it!?"

"Don'task me! Aren't you the yokai expert!?"

"No! I-"

Before they could continue their arguing further, they saw wodden spikes sprout from the ground. Before they could grow even more, momo held out her hands, pointing at you and aira

"No don-"

Both you and her felt a force push you away from there, making you avoid the spikes who instead all hurt momo

When you stood back up you saw momo cough blood and lay down holding her arm, the spikes had hit her in the throat, the chest and her right arm

"M-momo!"

"Why the heck would you-"

"Shut up! Focus on defeating the yokai, if you let it kill y/n I swear I'll kick your ass in the afterlife!"

Aira grunted but turned around and faced the yokai with a determined look in her one visible eye

"...it's nice to know that we at least have the same priorities, damn demon"

Suddenly, aira's incredibly long hair started moving on its own, going in different directions and ending up wrapping the yokai's hands and feet, rending it immobile

"I'll kill you......and then y/n will see how strong and cool I am!"

Both you and momo narrowed her eyes at what aira said, momo was especially mad while you were just surprised that she would say that knowing you're literally nearby.

But after that aira sprinted towards the yokai and readied a punch, just as it was about to land the wodden creature readied its own punch and broke the restraint made of aira's hair surprising her greatly

"Wh-"

The yokai punched aira in the stomach, sending her tumbling on the ground near you. She started coughing blood too, and you saw parts of her skull mask start to crack

"A-aira"

"N-no i-i have to protect y-"

She started coughing even more

"Shit! I think it hit me in the lung! A-ah!"

With one last cough aira fell to the ground unconscious, you tried to go to her side but were stopped by momo yelling at you

"Y-Y/N NO!"

You looked in her direction and saw that momo got up again and was pointing her hands at the yokai who now had started walking menacingly towards you

"I...can....still....get it!"

Before she could activate her powers, however, momo was struck by some tree roots hitting her from the ground right on her hands, causing her to lose focus and fall to the ground exhausteded

"M-momo!?"

You turned back and saw the yokai still approaching you and the two girls on the ground causing you to panic and sweat profusely

"W-what the hell do I do!? Momo....aira I.... can't let them die!"

You wanted to do something....anything to save them but what were you supposed to do? You were powerless, unable to protect the people you held the most dear to your heart.....you just couldn't give up like this

"Hey, old bitch! Look at me!"

The yokai stopped to look at you with its empty eyes for a second

"What!? Too scared? Do you only go after unconscious girls!?"

Momo who was still up heard you and tried to stop you

"N-no y/n please don't..."

However, that was too late as the yokai already leaped towards you and readied another puch, you closed your eyes, expecting the punch to give you a quick and at least as less painful as possible death, but after a while of still no pain coursing through your body you opened your eyes and were met with a completely different being in front of you

"You've got guts, I'll say that"

It was a vaguely humanoid figure wrapped completely in purple fire from head to toe. It was sitting down with its legs crossed, and you could sense it looking at you even if it had no visible eyes

"You wanna protect those girls right?"

Some part of you wanted to ask explanations, but you ignored it. Somehow, you felt this could lead you to saving momo and aira

"....yes....they're really important to me"

".......got it"

The being put its hand on your chest and miraculously it didn't burn you in the moment

"I'll give you my power ok? Mind you I'm not doing this out of kindness or anything, if you die I die...like actually, that's it. And I kinda wanna keep my afterlife....that's what I get for possessing the first child I see"

"............."

"Do you accept?"

"......yes"

".....nice choice"

The being pressed its hand further into you and now the fire fully enveloped you, however it still didn't hurt

"Just don't waste my power"

You nodded resolutely....and then woke up

When momo opened her eyes again she saw something that made her want to widen them again even if that was almost impossible with the injuries, the wood yokai was standing on the ground, it looked browner than before, almost charred as it backed away

However, perhaps the most shocking thing was that in front of her, there was something or someone new. It was a human, or at least that was what she thought at first before seeing the ring of purple fire surrounding it and the flaming hair. It looked like a yokai, but there was something far too human to be one....something even familiar, and she understood what once it or rather he turned his head to look at her

There were purple flames covering the entirety of his mouth almost like aira's skull but those eyes and facial features, there were the same ones that vaguely reminded her of Ken Takakura and that she had loved for all this time

".......Y-Y/N!!!??"

You turned to look at the yokai who was now readying another attack

"....you still don't give up?......what a hassle... You're really pissing me off"

"WAIT A SECOND! YOU DON'T GET TO BE ALL COOL LIKE THAT WITHOUT GIVING ME AN EXPLANATION!"

".......I dunno"

"......Eh?"

"This is the first time this is happening to me, I guess the yokai inside me gave me its powers"

"YOU HAVE A YOKAI INSIDE OF YOU!?"

".....I guess"

"HOW ARE YOU SO CALM ABOUT THIS?"

Before you could answer her, you saw the wood yokai sprinting. However, it wasn't going towards you, but the unconscious aira, you quickly went towards that same place, too, standing over her body

"......I won't let you touch her"

You extended your arm in her direction and a blast of purple fire came out of your hand burning the yokai but still leaving it alive even if all burned and charred making it back away to regain its strength

"..............."

You went over to aira and picked her up in your arms, you don't know if it was because of the contact or just a coincidence but she opened her eyes in that moment

".........an angel?.....am I in heaven?"

"....aira...."

Suddenly, aira's body was engulfed in flames, too, causing momo's eyes to widen. However, before she could say anything, the fire disappeared aira looked totally fine

".......what?"

You placed aira back down much to her disappointment

"Can you walk?"

"H-huh....yeah"

"Does anything hurt?"

"Not by much"

"......good"

You walked away from aira and approximately momo trying to touch her

"W-wait a minute, what did you do to aira!?"

"I cauterized her wounds and filled her body with spiritual energy, she should be more than fine now......I think"

"You think!?"

"Hey I told you this is my first time too, do you want your wounds to stay like that!?"

".....fine"

She held her hand out to you and blushed when you touched her only to burn up completely, too, for a while before coming back to normal unscathed

".....did that feel alright?"

"Wow.....It didn't hurt at all, and I do feel better now....thanks"

Momo smiled at you, and you did too, even if it was hard to see under the fire. You both then turned around to see the yokai still weakened and burned, trying to get away from you

".....can you two still fight?"

You saw aira slide at your side now in what you assumed was her yokai form skull mask long hair and all

"As long as it's for you, I can go for however long you want"

".....can you stop being so annoying?"

"You're just jealous he actually picked me up instead of giving me a measly touch on the arm"

"Am not!"

You saw the yokai stand up and look at you menacingly

"....uh...so any ideas on how to beat this thing? I can burn it but I think it's gonna need to stay in range for a while"

The two girls stopped arguing and pondered your question for a bit

"....hey aira, do you remember how we defeated silky dancer?"

"......no"

"Oh yeah you were dead"

".....wait what?"

"It's a long story, anyway y/n do you think you can burn aira's hair wh-"

"NO WAY DEMON! YOU'RE JUST TRYING TO MAKE ME LOOK UGLY IN FRONT OF Y/N!"

"No, I have a strategy!"

"As if I believe you!"

"Aira, can you at least hear momo out for a while?"

"......fine....if you tell me to"

"Thank you, anyway, how about this? Aira traps the yokai with her hair then y/n burns it and-"

"The fire should spread and burn the yokai completely!"

"Exactly"

"Are you sure it will work?"

"It should"

"Well I guess we have nothing to lose anyway, you ready aira?"

"This better work"

Aira started moving her hair and wrapped the yokai's arms and feet in it like before, but this time, she went the extra mile and completely wrapped its neck and torso

"May I?"

Aira blushed even if you couldn't tell under the mask and started to murmur to herself

".....he's even asking for permission....so respectful........y-yeah go ahead"

You touched aira's hair and watched as it got engulfed in your fire. To make sure it didn't spread to the girl, you immediately cut it in the point you touched. However, to your surprise, it grew back immediately, still leaving aira with her long red hair in this form

"Oh it grows back?"

"That's nice to know"

You looked back at the yokai and saw that your strategy worked its wodden body was completely on fire now along with the hair surrounding it, it moved in pain and screamed for a while before it got on its knees and just fell down and stopped moving. You thought it was dead, so you deactivated your powers, causing the flames to disappear

".....is it dead?"

"I can't sense any more spiritual energy so.... probably"

You were about to approach the body, but before you could do anything, a flash of light blinded you, causing you to raise your hands to cover your eyes. When you looked back, you saw something was sprouting from the yokai's body...at tree

It was a giant tree much bigger than any other one in the forest, it was beautiful too it's green leaves blew with the wind and caused a breathtaking scene, maybe it was the feeling of having won the fight and of being safe, of having been able to save the two people you care about the most but it felt relaxing, therapeutic in a way

Eventually, the roots fully consumed the yokai's boody making the tree look completely indistinguishable from any of its kind except for its length

When you looked back down from the tree you saw momo and aira (now back in her normal form) knelt down with their hands together and their eyes closed...they were praying

You quietly mirrored them and placed yourself in the same pose too

[Timeskip brought to you by chibi momo forcing chibi y/n to have a Ken takakura movie marathon]

"DON'T TAKE ALL OF THE ONIGIRIS FOR YOURSELF!"

"I'M ONLY DOING IT BECAUSE YOU STOLE MY SEAWEED SALAD!"

"......can you two be quiet?"

After fighting the yokai momo invited you to eat dinner at her house (she technically only invited you but aira felt entitled to come too) both to help you regain your energy and so you could talk to her grandma to figure out more stuff about the yokai inside of you

"Besides I wasn't saving them for myself, I was gonna give them to y/n"

Aira moved closer to you and pushed the rice ball near your mouth

"You must have burned a lot of calories when you transformed....here!"

"Hey that's my food! Also don't feed him!"

".....no thanks, I don't think that's how it works.....also give momo her food back"

"Eh?"

"You heard him"

Aira reluctantly gave momo her onigiri back and the three of you resumed eating normally while making conversation

"By the way, since when did you have that yokai?"

"Such an insensitive question momo ayase! What if it's rooted to a traumatic event in his life?!"

"Shut up"

"Well......both of my parents died when I was young"

Hearing that the two girls quieted down while aira looked at momo with an "I told you so" expression

"I spent most of my time near their graves.....and sometimes I saw some little purple balls of fire in the cemetery, no one believed me but....I knew they were there, one day they just kinda.....fazed through me, it didn't hurt but I guess that it was a yokai that somehow possessed me"

".......i-i'm so sorry I shouldn't have asked"

"No it's fine you couldn't have known"

You felt a hand gently wrap around yours and looked to your right to see it was aira

"I'm sorry for your loss but.....if that helps... I lost my mom when I was young too"

"O-oh really?"

"Yeah.....so....I guess I get the feeling, well not as much as you of course"

Aira flashed you a genuine sweet smile and you did the same, you could genuinely feel that she understood you

"It's a hitodama"

You looked towards the voice that just spoke and saw that momo's grandma had finally started talking

"....what?"

She took a drag from her cigarette and spoke again

"The yokai haunting you it's a hitodama, it's basically a will-o-wisp that appears after people die...it doesn't usually possess people though, I guess you must have some pretty strong spiritual power kid"

".....thank.....you?"

"Momo also told me you transformed in that right?"

"Yeah, and I could shoot fire and stuff, it was pretty cool"

"It usually isn't that strong either.....although the fact that it's been possessing you for so long probably strengthened it"

"I see"

"Luckily exorcising it is a cakewalk, I hope you like cold water though cause you're gonna need to take a bath in it for almost 2 hours"

".........what?"

"W-wait exorcising it?"

"Isn't that why you came to me?"

"......w-well, I guess"

"Plus I really don't want another kid with spiritual powers running around, two is already an headache"

You suddenly raised your hand catching the attention of the women in the room

"......sorry if this is too much to ask for....but if it's possible......I'd prefer to not get exorcized"

She took another smoke before answering you

".....why?"

"....I don't know I guess it would be taking away what makes me.....unique if that makes sense"

"...Eh?"

"Fighting that yokai was the most fun I had in a while.....plus the fact that momo and aira have the same powers...it was nice....I feel like I can relate to them....I don't that connection taken away from me so..."

You suddenly lowered your head, bowing in respect

"Please, don't exorcize me, I'll fight other yokai, I'll use my powers for good I promise! I just.....don't want to go back to a boring life"

You didn't hear an answer, so you assumed she didn't approve and raised your head when you did you saw a scene you didn't expect

Both momo and aira were bowing down on the floor in front of momo's grandma in the same position you were in before, before you could start wondering what they were doing they started speaking almost as if they rehearsed this

"Please grandma"

"We humbly ask you"

"Please don't exorcize y/n!"

"......momo....aira"

"Eh? You too?"

"He could be a great help if we run into another yokai! He was really good at controlling his powers!"

"Yeah! And that yokai is the last connection he has to his parents! Are you that heartless to tear him from that too!?"

She sighed before smoking again

"And what do I gain from this?"

"I'll do all the chores for a week!"

"A month"

"What?"

"And pink hair too"

"Eh? I don't even live here!"

"Do you want your boyfriend to be exorcized?"

"H-he's not my boyfriend.........yet"

"What?"

"Anyway, we accept"

"E-eh? You didn't even consult with me?"

"Come on momo, we're doing this for y/n! I'm sure even your demon heart can understand that"

"Easy for you to say, you'll only do chores when you come here!.....but if it's for y/n then....I guess it's fine"

"OK, great you can start by cleaning all the dishes"

Momo and aira looked back towards the giant stack of dirty plates left after your dinner and sighed in desperation

While they were doing the dishes you joined them and started cleaning plates too to their surprise

"Y/n? What are you doing?"

"Helping you, isn't it obvious?"

"Yeah but.....we were the ones that agreed to"

"But you're doing this for me, helping you is the least I could do to thank you, speaking of........thank you so much....you have no idea how much what you did means to me"

They smiled at you and continued cleaning

"Don't mention it, we're a team now after all"

"Y-yeah, all those yokais don't stand a chance with us"

"Speak for yourself, I'm only in this alliance to make sure you demon don't harm y/n in any way"

"Whatever"

"So......you are on the team"

"Of course, I'm the leader"

"Hey wait who decided that!? I am!"

"No way! You're a demon you could never be!"

"Can you stop it with the demon talk? It's getting really old!"

"I'm just saying the truth!"

While they continued arguing, you sighed louder but smiled happy that you were now fully part of a team who accepted you in every way and that you were going to have a lot of fun hanging out with

[crowsofdarkness]

The Void: Two

-gif not mine. credit to owners-

Pairings: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x BlackWidow!Enhanced!Reader

Content Warnings: violence, language, blood, angst, and 18+ smut.

Summary: Hydra used her as a weapon, then, becoming one of the original widows, Zima was ready to live the rest of her days in hiding. When someone from her Red Room past comes looking to cash in on a favor, she has no choice but to strap up to face this new enemy threatening New York. Even if one of the people asking for her help was the one who trained her in Hydra, the one whom she swore she would kill the next time she saw him. The Winter Soldier. The only problem? Bucky doesn't remember her.

Authors Note: this series will take place during Thunderbolts*, so I don't think it will be a long series. It is a reader insert, but "Zima" is the name she went by in the Red Room and Hydra due to her white hair. according to Google Translate, Zima means winter. tags are open!

Tags: @lisiliely @muchwita @tellybearryyyy @fries11 @multifandomgirl2018 @daddyyy88 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @herejustforbuckybarnes @stell404 @onlydearmas @cluvsya @svtbpbts @lover-rep-fanfic

The Void Masterlist

READER A.K.A ZIMA

“Holy shit. This is exactly what we need to save Bob!” 

Breathing heavily, I snapped my gaze over towards the left of me where I saw two more people standing in the middle of my lawn. Sparks flared at my fingertips, the anger surging through my veins and amplifying my powers stronger than ever before. It had been years since I needed to use them in a way to protect myself. I wanted to question who those other two people were but my attention was back on the ghost of a person standing in front of me, a look of pure shock on his face; a face that looked much older since the last time I saw him. 

The Winter Soldier. 

Although, what I saw in front of me didn’t look anything like the soldier I left behind all those years ago. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I sneered, ready to strike another lightning bolt at him, only to be stopped by Yelena who stepped in between us. 

“Woah, calm down. Why the hostility? I thought this would be a friendly reunion,” she said. 

I raised a brow at her, perplexed on why she thought that. It had been years since I’ve seen her, even longer since I was around The Winter Soldier. That especially did not call for anything friendly. Not given our past together in Hydra. Surely, he would have told Yelena about our past before coming to find me. 

Right? 

“Friendly?” I scoffed. “Do you have any idea who you brought to my island, Yelena?!” 

“I’m not that person anymore,” the man over her shoulder shook his head, the familiarity of his rich voice bringing chills to my skin. 

Flash memories of our time together in Hydra replayed in my mind, more so the good ones than the bad, but I very quickly pushed them away. I refused to be sucked back into the part of me I so desperately locked away. The Winter Soldier and I had a shared past that only ended in one thing. 

Death. 

“I highly doubt that. The last time you claimed to be different, you nearly killed me,” I spat, electricity surging through me once more. 

The other man, the tall blonde one in the knock off Captain America suit, pointed between the Winter Soldier and I. “You know Bucky?” 

“Who the hell is Bucky?” I questioned. 

The Winter Soldier raised his hand. “I’m Bucky. Bucky Barnes.” 

I rapidly blinked for a few moments, trying to understand everything that happened within the last few moments since Yelena and her group showed up. While I’d been on the run, living in solitary most years, I did what I could to stay up to date on the current events of the world; which alien species decided to take over or what super God destroyed a city. But due to the fear of being found by Hydra, I never got involved. I wanted to stay far away from those things in order to keep myself safe. In fact, the second I saw The Winter Soldier standing in front of me, I thought Hydra finally found me and sent him to capture me. 

No, not The Winter Soldier any longer but Bucky. Bucky Barnes. 

“I’m so fucking confused,” I rubbed at my temples, letting out a long sigh. “I need a fucking drink.” 

“Vodka?” Alexei asked, holding up the now very empty bottle of vodka. 

With a snarl, I shot a bolt towards the bottle and watched as it shattered to a million pieces leaving everyone around me shocked. 

“You all need to leave. Now,” I demand, before stalking towards my house. 

There were too many things running through my mind and I needed some peace and quiet to fully understand what the hell was going on. Yelena and Alexei were back, needing my help with some kind of plan they did not specify. They brought with them two strangers and a soldier who I thought at a time in my life would be the end for me; in life and death. 

Yet it seemed like he could not remember who I was. I knew all about his memory wiping during his time in Hydra because I was the one who did it. Hydra created my powers for that sole purpose; to bring pain to The Winter Soldier. 

“You said you would help us!” 

I whirled around on my heels to face Yelena, my eyes now sparking with fury. “That was before you brought not only these strangers but The Winter Soldier to my doorstep, Yelena!” 

“I’m not that person anymore,” Bucky spoke, softer than before, as he took a few steps closer towards me. “I’m sorry. It seems as if we have some kind of history but I don’t remember you.” 

Tears gathered in my eyes, threatening to spill over upon hearing him confess he didn’t remember me. I assumed that was the case with how things have gone the last few minutes but knowing he truly didn’t remember me cut so deep. It cut the young woman who was trapped in that hell those first few months and the only sliver of light she had was him. 

“If I ever hurt you due to who I was back then, I sincerely apologize,” Bucky took another step towards me. “I promise you, I’m not that person anymore.” 

“Don’t!” I held up a finger. “Don’t come any closer.” 

All I could hear when I looked at him were his screams of agony as I sent a thousand electric bolts into his head. 

Bucky understood and held up both of his hands. “Okay. I’ll stay right here.” 

While he stood at the bottom of the steps to my home and I stood right outside my front door, it was then I noticed his left hand and how different it was. No longer did he have the arm Hydra specifically made for him but a different one. 

“Yelena said you used to be in Hydra,” a woman stepped forward, the one who’d been standing next to the Captain America knock off. “Were you in with Bucky? You know, they erased his memory quite often. That could be why he doesn’t remember you.” 

“Wipe him. He cannot remember who you are. Or your pathetic excuse for love.” 

The disgusting voice of my captor back in Hydra crawled over my skin as I began to replay more of those memories. I felt sick to my stomach but refused to let the others know. Instead,  I snapped my head towards Yelena. 

“Did you tell everyone my business?” 

She sighed while running a hand through her short hair. “Yes but with good reason. We’re in a bit of a time crunch here so if you let us inside, we can talk and I can give you the run down on the plan.” 

“Plan?” I chuckled while ripping my hair out of the braid. “There is no plan, Yelena! I’m not obligated to help you in any way. I don’t have to help any of you!” 

I was seconds away from stepping inside of my home to lock them all out when her voice made me halt in my steps completely, a new kind of hurt weighing my heart down to the depths of my stomach. 

“Natasha.” 

With a flick of my gaze over my shoulder, I bit the inside of my cheek knowing that Yelena was right. With that single utter of a name, I was obligated to help her. I owed her. I had a debt to pay after all. 

“Fine,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Only you can come inside to tell me what this plan is. The rest will wait out here.” 

Not bothering to wait to hear who objected, I allowed Yelena to follow me inside before finally locking the door. 

BUCKY

I watched the front door to Y/N’s house long after it shut, trying to reach deep inside of my mind as to where I knew her. From the moment we stepped foot out of the jet onto this remote island in Greece, there was this phantom feeling which washed over me. My heart began to race and my palms gathered sweat when I came face to face with Y/N. Only one thing rang out inside of my mind when her eyes met mine. 

Zima. 

“I’ve always wanted to visit Greece. Not the tourist spots but the hidden parts. The places no one knows about.”

“Bucky?” 

“Hm?” I snapped out of my thoughts and glanced over towards Ava, who has a guarded look on her face. 

“Is Yelena safe inside with Y/N?”

I parted my lips to answer but snapped them shut when I realized I truly didn’t know if Yelena was safe or not. It was clear Y/N knew who I was and there was some short of underlying animosity on her end towards me but I wasn’t lying when I told her I didn’t remember who she was. The white hair and name Zima were familiar but when I tried to think of how, all I was met with was a void. 

Alexei, who’d been lounging on the front steps of Y/N’s house let out a long yawn, absentmindedly scratching at his belly. “Yelena can take care of herself. I raised her after all. Y/N is harmless.”

Walker let out a laugh. “Harmless? She damn near eviscerated Bucky with a lighting bolt!” 

Ava sat down on a step next to Alexei. “Are we sure she was in Hydra? Bucky doesn’t know who she is.”

“She could have been after his time,” Walker suggested. “But she does know who he is.”

Alexei shrugged. “No one knows exactly when Y/N was with Hydra given her records were sealed tight. She did a lot of heavy shit, some say she killed a president. Only Draykov knew the truth after he started the new Red Room with her in ‘99 but those secrets went with him to the grave. There were rumors dating back to the sixties of a woman with white hair zapping people to death. Again, only rumors.” 

“The sixties?” Walker asked, astonished. “Y/N doesn't look a day over thirty. There’s no way she's over ninety years old unless she’s-.” 

“A super soldier,” I finished for him. 

I had a suspicion she was some kind of Hydra soldier, like me, given her powers, but I didn’t expect our timelines in Hydra to cross over. Maybe that’s why the name Zima was familiar. She must have been held on some other hidden base and I heard one of the guards speaking of her in passing. 

“Y/N said you nearly killed her the last time you saw her. You don’t remember that?” Ava asked. 

I rested my hands low on my hips and shook my head. “No. Trust me, I’ve been trying to rack my brain on how that could have happened but I’m starting to think she has me confused with another Winter Soldier. Hydra made many of us.”

The other agreed but something about that answer didn’t sit well with me. I noticed the way her gaze lingered on my arm. I could hear how fast her heart beat when I stepped closer to her, fear filling her veins. There was a history between us, one she remembered but I couldn’t. 

“How does Natasha fit into all of this? As soon as Yelena said her name, Y/N agreed. Why?” Walker pressed his questions towards Alexei. 

His old and tired eyes expanded over the horizon, looking far off into the distance of the ocean, as a sad expression covered his features. The mention of Natasha brought up something so raw inside of Alexei, I could see the way his breath caught in his throat as he tried not to cry when he thought about his deceased daughter. 

“That is not my story to tell. That is for Zima if she decides to,” Alexei finally answered, voice wavering. 

Silence fell between us four for a long while, the sounds of the waves crashing to the shore below the cliff's edge and the sky was soon painted in a midnight glow as the moonlight blanketed Y/N’s home. Alexei had fallen asleep still perched against the steps, Ava was near the cliff so she could watch the darkness of the waves, and Walker was constantly checking his watch while muttering how we were wasting time. 

I stood near the front door, straining my super soldier hearing in order to listen in on Yelena and Y/N’s conversation. All I could hear were bits and pieces, them being too far into Y/N’s house for me to hear more details. 

“How sure are you that this plan will work?” 

Y/N. 

“I don’t know if it will but what I do know is that Bob needs our help and you have a debt to pay. Not for me but for Natasha.”

Yelena. 

I wasn’t exactly sure what happened between the three of them and how it was so severe that Y/N owed the Romanoff sisters something so important as a deal like this one. If Steve was still here, I could ask him. Unfortunately he decided to throw everything away for Peggy fucking Carter and left me here alone. Yes, I had Sam but he wasn’t Steve. No one would ever understand my past like Steve could. 

Was I still bitter about him leaving all these years later? Yes, absolutely. The wounds were still so raw it caused me to have these moments of self doubt if I was ever good enough for anyone. If I couldn’t get my best friend to stay with me, how could I get anyone else to? 

Before I could sulk anymore, the front door to the small house opened and Yelena walked out with a somewhat proud smile on her face. Slowly, Y/N followed but didn’t look anywhere near as happy as Yelena did. 

“So?” Ava asked after she came rushing back from the cliff's edge. 

Yelena looked towards Y/N, urging her forward. With a sigh, she placed her hands on her hips. 

“I personally think this idea is fucking stupid. You guys want to go save some guy you just met a day ago? You don’t know anything about him or what Val’s plan is for him. Can we even trust she won’t try to kill us in the process?”

“Val has done a lot of questionable things but she won’t go as far as to kill us,” I answered. 

Instantly, I noticed the way Y/N’s spine stiffened when I spoke. The air around us all was thick with static as her fingers twitched at her side, trying hard not to use her powers. She was a few feet away from me and with the sudden shift of wind, her scent engulfed me. There was a familiar note in her scent, something I couldn’t quite grasp. Not citrusy or hard. Something soft, feminine, and floral. 

Lavender? 

Suddenly, only for a moment, it felt like my soul had been sucked back to a time buried so deep into my subconscious, it was as if I wasn’t in my own body. All I could see around me was darkness and I couldn’t breathe. The only sliver of light was bright white hair and the smell of lavender. My limbs felt so cold, I couldn’t move, almost as if I was back in the cryo chamber. 

“Bucky?” 

Snapping out of it, I looked towards Yelena. “I-I-Did you say something?”

I knew I worried her because the way her eyes studied me for a few long beats gave way that she knew something was up but decided not to press the issue. 

“Can you prep the jet? We’ll be leaving as soon as Y/N is ready.” 

I did my best to nod before looking towards Y/N, my stomach dropping when I realized she wasn’t anywhere near us. Faintly I could hear she was inside her house, rummaging around, while muttering expletives under her breath. 

“This is so fucking stupid.” 

“I’m about to risk my life for people I don’t even know.” 

“I can’t let Hydra find me. They won’t let me go again.’ 

My brows furrowed at the last thing she said. Had Y/N not known Hydra was no more? Yelena mentioned earlier that Y/N had gone so deep into hiding, she didn’t know much on what was going on past her secluded island. 

“She’s not happy about going, by the way,” I mentioned to Yelena as I walked past her, bounding down the steps towards the jet which was parked on the far side of the island. 

“Yeah well she won’t admit it but she needs us more than we need her,” Yelena’s voice was so quiet, if it wasn’t for my super soldier hearing I would have missed what she said. 

As I reached the jet, one far off voice danced in my ears, a familiar warm breath tickled the side of my neck bringing chills to my body. 

“You are my only solace in this hell, Soldat. Don’t ever leave me.”

[writing-disability-with-cy]

[ID: An illustration of a red basketball wheelchair with a tall frame, low backrest and slanted wheels, sitting in front of an orange background. White text beside the chair reads: "Disability tropes: Sporting mobility aids as all-purpose ones"]

A visual trope I've noticed popping up more often as of late, is the tendency for artists and character designers to give their physically disabled characters mobility aids specifically made for sport as a daily-use aid. It seems to happen most often with leg amputees, being given running-blade prosthetics or wheelchair users being given basketball, rugby or tennis wheelchairs, but that could also just be because that's what I'm most knowledgeable about and so I just notice it more.

So what's the problem with that? Well, mobility aids designed for sport aren't like, say, running shoes where they're designed for one thing, but can be used for another. They are designed for one thing, and one thing only. trying to use them for literally anything else will... well it won't get you far.

Running Blades

Now look, I get why people want to draw these on their amputee and limb different characters, they look cool as hell AND they make you fast! I pestered my prosthetist for years to let me get a pair, admittedly, mostly because of the aesthetic so trust me, I get it.

But running blades are made to run, and only to run. Sometimes to jump, but mainly to run. You see, running blades look the way they do, because they aren't actually based off of human anatomy at all. The original running blade was inspired by the hind-legs of animals like cheetahs, dogs and other fast-moving land mammals. As the furries among us would already know, a lot of these animals have something called digitigrade legs, meaning they don't stand with their entire back foot on the ground. What we see as their paws is actually just the ends of their toes, and their ankle is held up off the ground. The reason so many animal species evolved with this trait is because it makes you really fast (among other things). The entire leg essentially works like a spring, giving the animal more force to push themselves forward, at the cost of the limb being a little less stable to stand on. that isn't an issue when you have another two legs out in front, but it's part of the reason why you don't see many bipedal creatures in nature with digitigrade legs.

Running blades took this general digitigrade leg layout and kind of simplified it, functionally making the athletes run on their toes. The blades are made out of very strong and very flexible carbon fibre sheets, and when the "toe" of the blade hits the ground, the force of the impact causes the whole blade to bend, then rebound, using the runner's own force and momentum to push them forward again. However, unlike most animals, humans don't have another set of legs out in front to keep us stable, so when the person with the blade prosthetic stops running, they either become very unstable or will fall over. This is because, in order to get that spring-like motion, these prosthetics can't have a heel and the way our body's weight is distributed means we kind of need that. Some leg amputees are able to walk a little bit in these running blades, but its not easy and is generally pretty uncomfortable to do, and for double leg amputees, it's exceptionally difficult.

There's also the fact that the running blades need a lot of force applied to them to actually work. A friend of mine brought her blade to an event we were both at, and you could not get the arch of the blade to bend with your arms. At all. One of the other guys at the event was a Paralympic powerlifter, and even he couldn't do it. even leaning on it with all our body weight wasn't enough to make it bend and push back. The only way to get it to bend was by landing on it while running at full speed - which is no small amount of force. Anything less and it won't budge, making these essentially very poorly balanced peg legs when used for anything other than running and jumping. This was actually the reason my prosthetist never signed off on me getting a pair of running legs, because I had an issue that made my stumps too sensitive to withstand the forces needed for them to work properly.

So unless your amputee character is going to be running everywhere at a full sprint, they don't need and probably won't benefit much from having blades in place of a regular prosthetic foot. However, if you want some extra speed for your amputee character, without the significant balance issues that come with a blade, hybrid feet do exist! These hybrids are made out of the same carbon fibre sheets as the big blades, but are shaped more like a regular leg and ankle, with an additional piece attached to the back to give you the stability of having a heel. These hybrid feet, often called active feet or high-mobility feet, take the best of both kinds of prosthetic, while also allowing their user to wear shoes, thanks to the rubber foot shell that goes over the top. They aren't as great for running as the big blades, but they're a lot better than most other prosthetic feet.

The one exception to all of this is if your amputee or limb different character isn't actually human. Quadrupedal mammals like dogs and cats who have their hind legs amputated often get something that looks like a running blade prosthetic as the shape mimics what they'd naturally have without the need for expensive (and completely impractical for animals) electronic parts. When it comes to furry and anthropomorphic animals, I personally make an exception here as well. Technically, the same rule should apply; they're bipedal, so they shouldn't be able to easily stand on a running blade and it wouldn't be practical. However, that rule should also apply to any furry with digitigrade legs, they should be equally unbalanced on their natural meat legs because that kind of bone structure isn't great for a bipedal creature, but it's just kind of an accepted thing to ignore that within the furry community, as long as you can make it look good. In this case, a running blade is the closest a digitigrade furry could probably come to a functional prosthetic without robotics, so I'm more inclined to let it go in that case.

Sports wheelchairs

The wheelchairs used in basketball, tennis and rugby are all different, but the features I see getting used in character designs are, for the most part, in all three, so for the sake of simplicity, going forward I'm going to refer to them all collectively as sports chairs. "Sports wheelchair" is an umbrella term that encompasses a lot more than just these three types, but I don't think I've seen anyone confuse a racing or golfing wheelchair for a general use wheelchair, so for this article, I'm mainly going to be using it to refer to those three. Likewise, going forward, I'm going to be calling normal, non-sports wheelchairs "day-chairs," which was a popular way of shortening "daily-use wheelchair" when I played wheelchair sports.

Just like the running prosthetic, sports wheelchairs are made to do one thing very well, and only that one thing, which is why people who play wheelchair sports of any kind need to have an entirely separate wheelchair to play in. The wheelchairs designed for Rugby and basketball are made to go on perfectly flat, perfectly smooth, indoor basketball courts. Likewise, tennis chairs are made to play on perfectly flat and smooth tennis courts. But it's pretty hard to find anything that smooth and flat outside of those specific spaces and these chairs don't handle any other type of environment well at all, even including the entrances and exists to the courts. These sports chairs are so bad at dealing with anything else, in fact, that people who play these sports will usually stay in their day-chairs, right up until they're on the court's sideline, then swap into the sports chair only when needed.

This is because the features that make these wheelchairs so good for their respective sports, tend to cause a lot of logistical problems anywhere else. For example, when most people think about sports wheelchairs, one of the first things that comes to mind is probably the big, tilted wheels. The wheels on all sports chairs are angled outwards, with the wheels closer at the top, and wider at the bottom - this is called wheel camber. A standard day-chair, though, usually has no, or very little camber - wheels that are not tilted outwards. Giving sports chairs camber has a lot of benefits, with the main one being added stability. When you're playing a game like wheelchair basketball or rugby, which are contact sports, you need to be able to take a hit without falling over, and a wider base of support helps with that a lot. The larger wheels on these chairs also tend to sit pretty far forward, which shifts the chair's centre of gravity, making it way easier to do precise, tight turns. However, this makes the chair much less stable, which the camber also helps with, which is one of the big reasons you see tilted wheels on tennis chairs too. Finally, you also need your hands and fingers on the wheels to move, but if someone crashes into you, having the wheels tilted this way keeps your hands out of the way of being crushed on impact...usually.

As you can see, this feature has a lot of advantages, but you'll notice that having the wheels tilted also makes the chair very wide. So wide that they don't actually fit most doors, except double doors. When I played basketball, to even get our sports wheelchairs inside the courts we practiced on, which only had standard, single doors for some reason, we had to sit in our day chairs and push the basketball chairs in front of us with the big wheels removed, or they wouldn't be able to fit inside. I'm sure you can see now why this makes these wheelchairs impractical for daily use. It's hard enough getting a normal day-chair through some building's doors, let alone through crowded or tight places like shops with narrow isles or down narrow footpaths. You will occasionally see a day-chair with a very minor tilt on their big wheels, but it's usually only done on very thin chairs with active or experienced users, and it's almost never more than a 2 - 5° tilt (whereas sports chairs can have as much as 15° to 20°, depending on the sport).

But tilted wheels aren't the only thing that makes them impractical for daily use. Another feature of these chairs is their anti-tip wheels; little wheels at the back that stop you from falling backwards out of your chair. A lot of day-chairs have anti-tips too, but the ones on day-chairs are usually positioned so that the wheelchair can still be tilted back enough to get up things like curbs and small steps and mildly rough terrain. However, remember how I said sports chairs have their big wheels moved further forward to help them turn easier? this will cause the chair to tip back way easier, and to account for that, the anti-tip wheels on sports chairs have to be basically touching the ground. If they weren't, every time you pushed forward, you would loose a bunch of your energy and momentum from tipping back slightly. You'd also probably damage the courts after a while too from forcibly slamming your front and anti-tip wheels into the ground repetitively. So they make the anti-tip wheels as close to the ground as practically possible to stop that, and also so you can lean as far back in the chair as you need, without having to worry about falling back but this means the chair is prone to getting stuck on everything and anything if the ground isn't perfectly flat and smooth. Even trying to take one of these chairs down a tiny curb-cut ramp is likely to result in your front wheels getting wedged on the road, while the anti-tips get stuck on the ramp with your big wheels (the ones you use to propel yourself forward) getting stuck in the air.

Finally, there's also the size. Even without tilted wheels, these chairs are often quite a decent bit larger than a day chair, mostly to protect their user. Most sports wheelchairs have a protective bar in front and around the sides of the chair, and the anti-tips add quite a bit of extra length to them in a lot of cases. The bar protects your feet in the event of a collision or fall, and makes the chairs more bottom-heavy to prevent them from tipping over whenever you make a sharp turn, and the anti-tip wheels need to extend a decent way out of the back of the chair or else they can't do their job. These things don't matter too much on the court, but once again, out in the real world, it makes a big difference.

There are a few other little differences too that can, in some cases, make them less practical. things like the fact breaks are never included on sports chairs (anymore) because they just weren't needed during the games and increased the risk of hand injuries - I lost a few thumbnails from snagging them on my day-chair's breaks when I was pushing fast. Sports chairs also can't fold down, as making them able to do so is a safety hazard since it weakens the frame of the chair. So that, combined with their larger shape means they can really only be transported by most people by putting them in the back trunk of the car, whereas even day-chairs that can't fold are designed to be able to be placed on a car seat, meaning they're easier to get in and out of a car when you don't have anyone to help you.

I speak about all of this from experience, by the way. As a teenager, my first wheelchair basketball coach intentionally didn't explain the above points to me when he lent me my first ever sports wheelchair. He knew the first thing I was going to do was try to take it to school, and he knew I wouldn't listen if he just told me not to try it, so it was just better to let me figure it out on my own. My old English classroom's door still has a big chunk of paint missing from where I tried to force this extra-wide sports chair through almost 10 years later, and I was late to every single class that day because the school's elevator had a small lip by the door I kept getting stuck on. Not to mention the several times I got stuck on the curb cut just trying to leave our local courts the day he gave it to me.

Sometimes kids just have to learn through trial and error, and I definitely tried, which is why it's so funny to me when I see wheelchair using characters in fiction either using just a straight-up sports wheelchair as a day-chair, or who's day-chair was designed by someone who very clearly just googled "cool/sporty/fast wheelchair" and slapped a bunch of features they saw onto a more standard wheelchair without understanding what those things actually do.

Conclusion

Honestly, as far as disability tropes go this one is mainly harmless. Personally, I find it more funny than annoying or harmful like most of the tropes I talk about, but it does come across to those of us who have used these mobility aids that you haven't really done much more than superficial research.

[marauder-misprint]

Ohh hii! I have a request for Remus Lupin x Fem Slytherin reader if you accept? They've known each other for a long time and have been dating for a while. Even though reader may come across as a bit cold and intimidating on the outside, she's a good and kind person deep down. (We know the general image of Slytherin. The reader is very uncomfortable with it.) She knows about the werewolf thing and not afraid of it, always supportive. But Remus remains afraid of unintentionally hurting her, feeling insecure. Unable to bear these worries, Remus decides to break up with her and they confront each other. But the reader thinks that the security issue is not the only problem. She also thinks that it may be related to her, to being a Slytherin, because there are still some difficulties. The reader thinks, ' They (especially for marauders) can keep their friends, but I have to lose my lover and throw away all those years. Will that really help me or us?'

Hello! ❤︎ Thank you for this request - I hope this is along the lines of what you were looking for. Remus is a self-fulfilling prophecy. What. an. idiot.

But we love him.

hope y'all enjoy ❤︎

'You'll always have me'

Remus Lupin x Slytherin!reader

3,2k words

cw: fluff, angst, no Y/N

Remus had always been in your life. You literally couldn’t remember life without him. Living just down the street and your parents being friends, he was your first friend. Before the Marauders. Before Hogwarts. Before he was bitten. 

And when he was bitten, he did a good job at hiding it. Days after full moons were just days his parents didn’t let him come play because he had chores or wasn’t feeling well. New scars were supposedly from tripping over his mum’s gardening tools in the shed or some old metal in the basement. You were completely in the dark for years after he was bit. You only found out because he slipped up.

“Do you want to have a bonfire tonight? That storm last week knocked down a ton of sticks,” you said as you walked down the street with him. 

“Can’t. It’s a full moon tonight.” Remus’ eyes went wide when he realized what he said, but he kept his gaze straight ahead.

“Full moon? What’s the moon phase got to do with it?” 

“Um, I didn’t say that. I said, erm, full schedule…”

You gave him a confused look. “No?” 

“I just… I can’t tonight.” 

“Okay.”

You more or less put two and two together the next day when you didn’t see him at all. You didn’t bring it up for a few days. You waited until you were skipping stones on a nearby pond. 

“You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?” you asked, snapping your wrist to send a smooth stone across the water. 

You could see him freeze in your peripheral vision. He didn’t say anything. 

“I don’t mind. Just curious.”

“You… don’t mind?” he asked slowly. “How do you not mind?” 

You shrugged and threw another stone. 

“You’re not like, scary.”

“You haven’t seen me when… I… you know…” 

“I guess that’s my point? I don’t know, how long have you been one?”

“A few years at this point…” he said quietly. 

“Okay, and we’ve been friends for longer and it’s never been a problem. Don’t see why it’s a problem now.”

“Because you know that I’m a… a… a monster.”

“The most harmless one, if at all.” You smiled at him and Remus got the message he wasn’t getting rid of you any time soon. 

He couldn’t even get rid of you when you got sorted into a different house than him at Hogwarts. You’d sit with Remus in the library for hours. He was always studying and you would do anything but. You told him that you hated how everyone thought Slytherins were cold and mean, which meant people assumed you were cold and mean before getting to know you. He told you that he was scared about anyone at Hogwarts finding out what he was. 

“Hey, you’ll always have me,” you assured him.

Two years later, his roommates, who had been amazing friends to Remus, found out. You were barely into your third year and Remus was terrified that he’d be kicked out of his dorm. You grabbed his hand after classes and brought him to a room hidden behind a tapestry that you had found last year. 

“So they said they don’t mind that you’re you know. What’s the problem then?” you asked, leaning back against the wall. “I told you I didn’t mind and I still don’t. And I’m still your friend.”

“But you don’t live with me. When they come to their senses, they won’t want to live with a monster.”

“If they want you out of the dorm, you can come to mine. You’d make it more tolerable.”

He gave you a sad look. “Does your dorm allow boys? Gryffindor’s stairs turn into a slide if a boy tries to go up them.”

You bit your lip and thought about it. You had never seen a boy around the girls’ dorms. 

“Possibly. Then… we can fix up that place you go for your transformations. Make it all nice ‘n’ stuff.”

Remus huffed a laugh. He shook his head and leaned against the opposite wall.

“It’s a shack. I can’t live there.”

“Well, if they kick you out of your dorm, we’ll deal with it together. You’ll always have me.” 

“Thanks.”

“Now, that Astronomy essay? Why? Why was that assigned? Were star charts not enough?” you complained. Remus appreciated the change of subject. 

No shocker to you, but his roommates didn’t kick him out. It looked like they surrounded him with more support and friendship than they did before. When werewolves came up in class, they made sure that Remus was okay and they spoke out against stereotypes. It was nice to see. 

Your friendship with Remus didn’t change as he got closer with the boys. While they had him more during the school year, you still had him to yourself over breaks. Even if the boys invited him over, his parents were hesitant to let him go, telling him it was safer for him to stay home. You listened to him rant about it. But his parents didn’t know that the boys knew about Remus’ lycanthropy. He’d tell them eventually, but not at 14. He didn’t want to risk losing the friends who were becoming his brothers. 

Then, it did change. You were laying in the grass with him. It was a classic set up: your head in his lap as you watched the clouds and he read. Something made you reach for his hand, the one not holding the book. You brought it to rest on your stomach and laced your fingers through his. It was frankly quite a bold move from you. It made Remus freeze for a moment. He looked down at you with a softness in his eyes and a small smile.

“This okay?” you asked. 

He nodded.

Neither of you actually said anything for that summer, but you felt the shift. He grabbed your hand when you were walking somewhere. You rested your head on his shoulder when you were sitting next to each other. Unspoken but together. 

You were both trying to work up the courage to kiss the other. The pressure built slowly. There were a few almosts where you thought he was going to but chickened out. 

In late August, you went to Diagon Alley with him, and your families, to get your school supplies. As usual, your parents let you and Remus loose in Flourish & Blotts. They went to find the books you’d need for the school while you and Remus got lost in the shelves looking for something you could read for fun. It was in those shelves that Remus kissed your cheek for the first time. It was very unceremonious and very out of the blue. You had been reaching for a book. Remus grabbed it for you and after handing it to you, he kissed your cheek. You both turned bright red before you started giggling and smiling as widely as you could. Your parents, thankfully, didn’t question why you were both so red when you handed them the books you wanted. 

A few days later, the night before going back to school, you and Remus were sitting on the steps behind his house. 

“We’re dating, right?” you asked quietly. 

Remus looked down at your interlaced hands and then at your face. 

“I thought we were.”

You nodded with a sigh. “Okay. Good. I thought so too.” You took a breath. “Are we still dating tomorrow?” 

“Why wouldn’t we be?” 

“Because tomorrow I’m a Slytherin and you’re a Gryffindor? Here, we’re just us.”

Remus chose then to lean in and kiss you. It was a few seconds of pure awkwardness. It was simply lips touching and neither of you really knowing what you were doing. You looked shocked when he pulled back.

“I’ll date you until you realize that I’m actually dangerous.”

“Then you’ll always have me,” you said with a small smile. 

You sat with Remus on those back steps with your head on his shoulder and his hand in yours until your parents called for you to come home and go to bed. 

A few days later in the room behind the tapestry, Remus would tell you that he still wants to date you, but he can’t tell his friends. They hate all Slytherins, including you despite his attempts to convince them that you’re great. 

“I told you,” you said sadly. “But, I said you’ll always have me and I mean it. I’m yours, even if no one knows.” 

So you told no one. Your roommates knew you were dating a non-Slytherin. You disappeared enough for them to figure that out, but you refused to tell him who. And Remus would take the map with him when he met up with you in that room behind the tapestry. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. You treasured those moments that you got to have him to yourself. 

But mid-spring, something changed. Remus met you at your usual time in the hidden room. He looked nervous, like a bird ready to take off at any sudden sound. 

“Remus,” you said, standing up to hug him.

Except he stopped you, holding you at arms’ length for a moment before dropping his arms. 

“I… I can’t date you anymore. It’s not safe.” You opened your mouth to object but Remus kept talking. “I know you think it’s fine, that I haven’t hurt you in the past. I… I can’t risk it. It’s not safe to be around me, for anyone. And we’ve just been lucky so far. I’m so sorry.”

Then he left. The cloth flapped gently in his wake as your heart shattered. You thought everything was good between you. You knew Remus worried about hurting you, but you never went out when it was a full moon. You always waited for him to come to you, or to ask for you so you’d know it was safe. You weren’t about to risk your life. You weren’t dumb. 

You didn’t know what changed. 

If you had been paying more attention to Remus and his friends, you would’ve seen a change in all of them. It wasn’t just Remus. And it wasn’t just Remus and you. It was like he was pulling away from the boys as well. Somehow you missed the rumors that Severus Snape went out looking for a werewolf and found one. You missed how Snape was apparently tipped off by Sirius and James stopped him from getting too close. You heard none of that. 

Part of you hoped that you could still be friends with Remus at home. But no. Remus stayed inside more that summer than he ever did. He deliberately avoided you. It was killing you. It didn’t help that your parents didn’t understand what happened between you and Remus and would bring him up, asking if you’d seen him recently. Nothing like almost breaking down in tears at the dinner table. 

Words couldn’t describe how painful it was to see Remus at King’s Cross station, and in the Great Hall and then in classes. Somehow worse was seeing him with all of his friends. James, Sirius and Peter flanked him nearly everywhere he went. He was never alone. And you were. How was he too dangerous to be around you and not them? It didn’t make sense. 

There were nights when you couldn’t sleep. You were trying to figure out why Remus really broke up with you since it clearly wasn’t because Remus thought he was dangerous. Were you not pretty enough? Not fun enough? Did he suddenly despise your personality? Had you said something that didn’t sit right with him? Were you not trying enough? How could you not be trying enough when he was the one who wanted to keep your relationship a secret? 

You kept coming back to why Remus wanted to keep it a secret. Your house. Remus couldn’t stand the fact that you were a Slytherin. He’d always said that he knew you, that he knew you weren’t cold and mean and overly proud. He said he’d eventually get his friends to warm up to you. He said… 

He must’ve been lying the whole time. He must’ve hated that you were put into Slytherin, believed it was a sign of your true character, that you were just as bad as everyone else and was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And he just got tired of waiting. 

It was mid-October when you snapped. The full moon came and passed and Remus didn’t appear to push them away at all. You saw him napping on Sirius’ shoulder during History of Magic. He’d be completely vulnerable with him but wouldn’t even sit with you in the hidden room anymore. 

You waited until your last class of the day. You marched over to Remus’ desk, where he was still putting his things away. James, Sirius and Peter were all there. Their conversation died the moment they saw you, smiles dropping from their faces. 

“What do you want, snake?” James asked dryly. 

“We need to talk,” you said, only looking at Remus despite him looking anywhere but at you. 

You grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the classroom. The other three boys called after you, asking where you were going and what you needed to talk to him about. You kept walking. You didn’t look back. You dragged Remus all the way to the room behind the tapestry. And even in there, he wouldn’t look at you. 

“Remus.” 

Nothing. 

“I swear to Merlin, Remus, look at me!” 

He slowly raised his eyes to meet yours. He didn’t look happy, eyes glassy and hands fidgety. You’re grateful that he didn’t look scared, but he used to be happy when he spent time with you in this room. 

“I… I just want to know what happened. Between us,” you said with a defeated sighed. 

“I’m too-”

“Dangerous? Too dangerous for me but not for Peter? Not for James? Sirius?” 

And he was no longer looking at you.

“I know why. I just need to hear you say it.” You hugged your chest, although Remus perceived it as crossing your arms. 

“I can’t bear the thought of hurting you,” he whispered. “The boys… They enjoy putting themselves in danger and won’t let me-”

“I know you broke up with me for more than that sorry excuse. I told you that you’ll always have me and I mean it. So don’t give me that excuse. I know it’s not the real reason you broke my heart.”

Remus looked pitiful as he peered back at you. He looked sorry, which you expected, but also confused. In his mind, he had broken up with you purely because he couldn’t bear the idea of being in love with you and then hurting you because of what he is. He had no idea what you were going on about.

“I… I don’t understand?” His voice sounded weak. “What do you mean ‘real reason’?” 

You laughed, but it was pained. It hurt Remus to hear it. It had hurt Remus to see you in the aftermath of the breakup. That was part of why he avoided you all summer. He couldn’t bear to see you looking so brokenhearted. He had hoped you would be back to yourself by now. 

“You got tired, Remus. Tired of pretending you’re okay that I’m a Slytherin. How could you be friends with, let alone dating, a Slytherin? Because we’re all horrible people, right? Right?” Something broke in your chest and you fell to the floor in tears. Your voice cracked as you continued to talk. “I just wish you had the guts to tell me the truth. I know that you are what you are and it means nothing to me. And I guess I thought you knew what I am when you kissed me. Held my hand. Held me.” A sharp breath shook your body. “You said we’d be fine. Then you tell me that you can’t tell anyone about me because of what I am. I… I just need to hear you say it so I can move on.” 

Remus took a tentative step toward you. His knees popped as he squatted in front of you, just within arms’ reach. He wanted to reach out, to comfort you, but he didn’t know his place at this exact moment. It didn’t help that the sight in front of him broke his heart. 

“It was never about your house,” Remus said softly, trying to find the words to say. “I know not every Slytherin is a criminal-in-training. I know that because I know you.”

This time, it was you who couldn’t bring yourself to look at Remus. It hurt to hear him say that when you knew it was a lie. 

“You were the best thing to ever happen to me. You’re lovely and beautiful and brilliant and determined and you stuck with me even when I warned you that you could get hurt. I just can’t risk you getting hurt. I know you want to risk it, but I really can’t. I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you.”

You shook your head. Tears were streaming down your face as you lifted your head. 

“The werewolf didn’t hurt me. It never has because I’m not an idiot. I’m not going to put myself in danger. You hurt me. You’re still hurting me. I know you’re lying.”

Remus let himself fall onto his knees so he’d be closer to you. His hands found yours. 

“I don’t think you understand,” Remus said, practically pleading with you to listen to him. “I would never have left you if I thought you could be safe around me. I almost killed someone last year. I don’t know what I would’ve done if it had been you. I don’t know how I could live with myself if I killed someone I love.” 

“Wh-what?” 

“Severus Snape knows what I am. He… he was there when I… and if James hadn’t…” Remus couldn’t bring himself to fully describe what had happened in the spring.

“Someone you love?” 

Remus stared at you with his mouth agape. 

“I tell you I almost killed someone and that’s what you-”

“Someone you love?” you repeated louder. 

Remus let go of your hands with one of his so that he could rub the back of his neck. 

“Yeah, I love you. That's why I need you to stay away from me, because I’m not safe and I cannot hurt someone I love.” 

“Snape’s an idiot for approaching a suspected werewolf on a full moon. That would never be your fault. Not in a million years,” you said, circling back to what Remus deemed the more important part of the conversation. Then in a softer voice, “You love me.” 

“I do. You’re the best damned thing on earth. Probably in the whole universe. How could I not love you?”

You sighed. “Remus John Lupin, you are an idiot. You are the most careful person I have ever met. You wouldn’t hurt someone, even Snape, if you had a drop of control. And I’ll be damned if I let you leave this room without you knowing that.” 

“But if I hurt you-”

“You hurt me by pushing me away. And if those idiot friends of yours can get around that, so can I. You’ll always have me. Because you love me and I love you and it makes zero sense for us to not be together. Got it?” 

Remus nodded. You took the hand still holding yours and brought it to your lips to place a soft kiss on his knuckles. 

“You owe me for breaking my heart though.”

tags: @navs-bhat, @faceache111

[thezombieprostitute]

Blueberry scones sounds delicious! How does your persnickety boss (of your choice) react when you bring him in a scone with his morning coffee?

Per the poll results, the boss of choice is going to be Ari Levinson!

Uncalled For

Warnings: Angst, Bad boss. Please let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Reader is gender neutral. No physical descriptors used.

The company is about to close out a major project and it's got everyone edge. Especially because Mr. Levinson's pushing everyone. No one gets a break until this thing is done and done well. Morale is low and he either doesn't notice or doesn't care. Everyone knows Mr. Levinson is a workaholic but with the deadline in sight, it's been getting out of hand.

You're not one to make waves or go against the boss. You have your job and you like to stick to it. Your coworkers even barely seem to notice your existence until something goes wrong. But seeing everyone so miserable has you trying to think of things that can lift spirits.

It might not be much, but you can do some baking. Everyone loves free baked goods, right? Plus, it'll be better for people than the all-caffeine diets they seem to have switched to.

When you finally clock out for the day, you make yourself go to the grocery store to pick up some ingredients. Delightfully the blueberries are on sale! You can make scones and muffins with them! Those will be great snacks for the office, right?

Staying up far too late, you labor over the baked goods, making sure there's enough for everyone. It isn't easy but, hopefully, it'll help everyone at the office.

The next morning you set up the scones in the breakroom along with the ingredient list so people can be wary of allergens. You take one for yourself, grab a coffee and sit at your desk.

As more people come in and find the scones, the atmosphere feels more relaxed than before. It's still tense, but nowhere near so miserable as before.

At least not until Mr. Levinson finds the scones.

"Who brought these damn things in?!" he shouts to the office, holding the container of scones. "Well?!"

"I...I did, Mr. Levinson," you quietly admit, raising your hand.

"This is uncalled for! No rewards until this project is done! We have to earn these things. And if you've got time to go home and bake, clearly you've got time to do more work!"

Mr. Levinson dumps the scones into the trash and you start crying. He slams the container onto your desk before stomping into his office.

"Oh fuck this," one of your coworkers mumbles before shutting down their computer.

He stands up and shouts towards Mr. Levinson's office, "hey asshole! I quit!"

Everyone can see Mr. Levinson's glare from his office but your coworker doesn't let it bother him as he grabs his things and walks out.

"You know what? Me too!" another coworker shouts, shutting down her computer.

"Seriously, what the hell kind of asshole boss does that?!" another coworker gripes loudly, preparing to leave.

At this point, Mr. Levinson looks furious and he stands in the doorway of his office trying to order people to sit back down, trying to explain his reasoning, his style of leadership. It only leads to more people walking away.

As the room empties, you're still too stunned to move, unable to stop crying. Mr. Levinson runs his hands through his hair as he processes what happened.

He stomps over to your desk. "Why did you even make those damn things to begin with?"

"I wanted...wanted to...to help, Mr. Levinson," you sniffle. "Everyone was just...just so miserable. I thought it might...might help people out."

"That's not your job," he huffs. "You're only supposed to do your job."

"But...I just...I wanted to help..."

"And thanks to you, everyone's walked out and you should leave with them!"

"Well that is uncalled for, Ari." You recognize the voice of Mr. Laufeyson. His department is next to yours and he undoubtedly heard the commotion. "Maybe you should leave. You just cost the company a lot of time and money with this. Maybe they can get some of these people back, but it will still set the project back quite a bit. I don't think the higher ups will take kindly to that."

"You've been after my job for years, Loki," Ari bristles.

"And now you've handed it to me on a silver platter," Mr. Laufeyson grins. "I warned you about the dangers of pushing your people too hard. Little treats do wonders for the soul."

As Mr. Levinson storms back to his offce, slamming the door closed, Mr. Laufeyson turns to you.

"I do hope you aren't scared off. I could use the help of someone such as yourself as I take over this department. How would you like to be my assistant?"

"I...I dunno, Mr. Laufeyson. I'm...I'm not..."

"There will be a significant pay increase."

"Put it in writing and I'm in!"

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @iwudbutnah; @kmc1989; @lokislady82; @peaches1958; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63;

[shianobuff]

Diabetic!Mira and Rumi Headcanons

My Diabetic!Zoey Headcanons got me thinking about the other Huntr/x girls having diabetes.

CW: needles (Mira’s), body dysmorphia and slight non-explicit eating disorder (Rumi’s)

A/N: this can mostly be read as platonic or polytrix, except for a tiny bit of Rumi’s HC! The content warnings are mostly for safety, they are pretty light, but Rumi’s HC is a bit angsty.

————————————————————————

Mira

Mira’s family has a history of being diagnosed with diabetes in early adulthood

Her parents fretted about a potential diagnosis damaging her chances at a good marriage

So Mira found it hilarious when both she and her brother were diagnosed

Even with the shame and stigma, she had a relatively easy time adjusting to taking medication and watching her blood sugar

She’s watched her family members deal with it all her life and she figured she had a decent chance of getting it eventually

It’s desensitized her to needles

Rumi and Zoey still don’t understand how she’s so calm during injections and blood draws

They get so nervous for her; Zoey still has to shut her eyes whenever a needle gets close to Mira and Rumi goes a little pale (she also glows post-movie)

So Mira ends up reassuring them that she’s okay, not the other way around

Mira brought up her diagnosis to Rumi and Zoey within a few weeks of them meeting almost as a test to judge how vulnerable she could be with them

The way they so quickly accepted her was the first indicator that she’d found a family in them

Mira’s a dancer: she’s in tune with her body and she knows how important it is to listen to its cues

The problem is that she’s developed hypoglycemia unawareness

Before she gets a continuous glucose monitor (cgm), it scares the living daylights out of her girls

What do you mean Mira is going low enough to put some people in a coma and she can’t feel it??

Getting a cgm is life-saving for her

And Rumi and Zoey definitely check her sugars with the companion app more than they need to

But Mira finds it endearing; it’s proof that they love her

Mira doesn’t have a huge sweet tooth (except for chocolate), so her favorite hypoglycemia fixers are tteokbokki and ramyeon (or any kind of savory tteok)

Although, those aren’t exactly accessible on the go, so she can settle for Zoey’s American snacks, like hot cheetos

or Takis fuego (the Mexican ones, not whatever bs the UK tries to sell), which Zoey also introduced her to

While Mira definitely prides herself on her appearance, she understands how malleable the human body is and would be the least affected by any changes due to medication

She also genuinely does not give a fuck about what anyone thinks of her body as long as she can continue to dance

Years of living with her parents taught her that she either needed to be confident enough in herself or cave to the plastic surgery-filled, extreme dieting lifestyle of her family

She can still pull off all the same moves as before? Good enough for her

Being hot is a mindset, not a physical trait

Unlike Zoey, I think Mira’s publicity with her diagnosis would be very different

She’s much more blasé about it

Not in the sense that she doesn’t care, but more that she thinks people need to get over it

Her pancreas doesn’t work right, so what? Diabetes isn’t caused by an individual’s “failure,” bodies just do weird shit sometimes and people need to get used to it

Mira gives absolutely no fucks about what haters think about her diabetes, but she has a soft spot for her fans

Any ounce of nonchalance is put aside whenever a fan tells her she’s inspired them to be more confident about their diagnosis

Because, more than anything, that’s what she wants: for the fans to believe in themselves

Rumi

just like with her patterns, our girl hid her diagnosis for as long as possible

Doctors want her to tell the people close to her so they can help her in an emergency?

No, absolutely not

Idols can’t have disabilities, Zoey and Mira wouldn’t understand

And diabetes? The stereotyping alone could ruin Huntr/x and any chance they have at sealing the Honmoon

So Rumi sneaks around until Zoey finds needles in her room

And being the American she is immediately worries Rumi has an addiction

Cue intervention that turns into all three of them sobbing because Rumi finally tells the girls

Rumi wasn’t really allowed to have sweets as a child, so her go to hypoglycemia snack is whatever junk food Zoey has stocked at the moment

She also enjoys sikhye, a sweet rice drink

None of these girls would be good at taking care of their lows, but Rumi would be the best

Hear me out

Rumi is used to being hypervigilant about how her body feels because she’s constantly monitoring for signs she’s becoming more demonic

stress exacerbates her demon qualities and hypoglycemia = major stress for your body

So she shifts some of her awareness to her blood sugar

I do think Rumi would suffer the worst with body image issues

She grew up constantly surrounded by the idol industry with strict beauty standards and she deeply internalized all of that

Zoey and Mira have to force her to eat carbohydrates in the beginning post-diagnosis, even though she knows she needs them to sustain her hunting and performing

She also logically understands that carbs are essential for normal human nutrition and function, but it’s a lot harder to practice that herself

It takes a lot of reassurance from her girls that she’s still worthy and beautiful and loved even if she’s gained a little weight

And that her self-worth should never be tied to her physical being (like her patterns, cough cough)

Bobby gets Rumi into therapy so fast when he finds out, stigma be damned

His girls are the best, and they deserve to feel that about themselves

Therapy helps, but Bobby, Mira, and Zoey are the biggest driving factors in Rumi healing her relationship with food post-diagnosis

She still has days where she’s hesitant about eating, but they’re few and far between and she has Bobby and her girls there to support her

Rumi doesn’t fully reconcile with being diabetic until post-movie when the world (and her girls) finally see all of her

A bunch of her shame came from thinking her patterns (and therefore her body) were wrong, and that compounded with being chronically ill did a number on her psyche

Sorry, this one’s a bit horny: and you know Zoey and Mira take their time worshipping her, patterns and weight gain and all. They love her regardless of her body, but they also love her body, no matter what it looks like

Rumi wouldn’t be as vocal as Zoey or as nonchalant as Mira if she had diabetes

I think she would find a quiet confidence in it

She doesn’t decorate her diabetes equipment, but she doesn’t hide it either

Like her patterns, it’s another part of her

She may never speak up about it directly, but she makes it obvious she’s not ashamed

That in itself is enough in a world where simply existing with a disability is difficult

[infericon]

Just a random thought: I don’t really see Miraak as straight-up evil. Yeah, he’s power-hungry, arrogant, and kind of a jerk, but to me, he’s more of a guy who just wanted control over his own life.

He served the dragons for who knows how long, then turned against them and almost got killed for it. Then Hermaeus Mora stepped in and "saved" him, but that just meant being stuck in Apocrypha, serving a different master for literal centuries. So it’s not like he ever really got to be free. Can’t really blame him for wanting out.

By the time he meets the Dragonborn, he’s bitter, resentful, and desperate, like someone who’s been trapped for way too long and is clinging to whatever chance he has to take back control. And honestly? I think he’s jealous, too. The Dragonborn shows up with all this potential and freedom, and it probably reminds him of what he lost, or never really had. That’s gotta sting.

So yeah, Miraak’s definitely not a hero and far from a good guy, but I don’t think he’s just some evil villain either. More like a tragic character who never got a real shot at choosing his own path.

That’s also how I headcanon him with my Dragonborn, Norana. She frees him from Apocrypha and offers him the chance to help her take down Alduin together, giving him a shot at being remembered for something good, not just as a traitor or a servant, but for saving the world from the World Eater. At first, they didn’t get along at all. He pretty much used her for his own reasons. But the more time they spent traveling together, the more fascinated he became with her, especially her natural, alive, and carefree way of living, so different from everything he’d known.

In the end, he chose to stay with her, not out of obligation or manipulation, but because he wanted to. It was his first real, honest choice. And that’s what makes it meaningful.

They also shared the same burden: being Dragonborn. The loneliness that comes with it, the pressure, and the way others treated them more like tools than people. That unspoken understanding slowly brought them closer.

[miseria-fortes-viros]

listen i’m pretty strong emotionally and i can probably handle a lot more than the average person can when it comes to shit like that but sometimes something small will strike me inexplicably and i’ll suddenly have the same paper-thin composure i had when i was nine and people kept telling me to stop crying and grow up. like last night my cat brought another mouse in through the hole in the screen door and usually when she sets them down i can fawn over how fast and scary she is while i gingerly pick them up and set them back outside, because usually they’re terrified but otherwise unharmed, but this time i was in the middle of cooking and didn’t manage to get to it before it got over its shock and disappeared under the couch. and neither of my cats can get under there, and any mouse would know that, really, so there was no chance it would come back out, so i had to tell my mother and she came down with a pack of mousetraps. she opened them and had me help her set one up (she stuck the handle of a dirty fork into my jar of peanut butter. irrelevant but continues to perplex me. what the hell mom. my peanut butter). i didn’t want to put it out right away because it had only been half an hour and one of the cats might catch it again and then the problem would be solved, but even though i have my own space it’s still in my mother’s house and she wasn’t about to let mice run around freely. she reminded me that traps kill almost instantly as she stuck it under the cabinet in my living room, near the couch, and i tried to forget about it.

the trap went off while i was folding laundry in the next room. it was louder than i thought it would be, so it must have been like a gunshot to littler ears. everything seemed quieter in the moment right afterwards. and i didn’t want to but i got down on the floor in my living room anyway and shone my flashlight under the cabinet, and sure enough the trap had not gotten the mouse by the neck but instead had snapped shut on a hind leg, grotesquely twisted up and over in a way that would surely be fatal after a while, and little black eyes stared right at me like it knew i had done this, and a spot on the top of its head pulsed with its heartbeat, hinting at an even more sinister injury that was invisible to me. i called my mom down and she used a paper plate and a piece of cardboard to drag it out because she didn’t want to see it—what a privilege it is to not have to look the things we hurt in the eye—and it started squeaking right when she was trying to get all of that into a plastic bag, shock wearing off for the second time in only a few hours. i wiped a tiny red handprint off the floor and my mom took the mouse outside to drown it.

i keep thinking about bones smaller than toothpicks and even easier to snap, and about beady black eyes that had never seen blood before, teenage boys broken and bleeding while their lungs fill up with water, thousands of mice that probably die exactly like this. i think about snap traps and glue traps and poison and how nobody ever has catch traps, because people would rather deal with blood and guts than run the risk of a released pest returning, and about how that tiny thing might still be running through the grass now if i had been a few seconds faster finding a place to set the spatula down. and inevitably someone will say this is why you have to keep your cats inside and to that i say first of all, it wasn’t even hurt when she brought it in, they never are, she just wanted to show me, and secondly, you try keeping former barn cats inside, it’s impossible; at least if i allow them out they’re willing to stay where i can see them. they’re the ones that are kind enough to play and release. we’re the ones that kill without reason and then throw out the bodies after. but i patched up the hole in the screen door with cardboard so now they can’t come back in without knocking, per se. that should keep live mice out for a while. but there’s still a tiny spray of blood under the cabinet in the living room, too inconvenient a place to clean, and so it will remain there long after everyone’s forgotten where it came from. i keep tearing up at my desk over this damn mouse. on my way home from work i will stop and buy catch traps, and when i get home i’m tossing the rest of the snap traps away. i don’t care. or maybe i care too much. too sensitive. grow up.