#the other two were in the drafts for a while…

[fleurfiles]

TREAT YOU BETTER. ft violet

୧ ‧₊˚ vi is the best roommate and friend that you could ask for. however, it's hard to keep your feelings for her a secret, especially after her and her girlfriend break up.

pairings and aus. roommate!vi 𝑥 fem!reader

warnings. friends to lovers. no verbal confession of feelings, but implied. pining. fluff. some swearing.

gabi’s quick thoughts. hi this was rotting in my drafts for three weeks so...lol, here you go.

word count. 2.5k

masterlist ‧₊˚ taglist

IT’S A SUNNY SATURDAY MORNING. the birds call to each other outside your windowsill, the curtains in perfect harmony with the swaying of the wind, the ac blasting and the fan whirring, the same exact sound that had lured you to sleep the previous night.

there’s a thick sense of tranquility in the air, and you turn over to your side, the covers crinkling as you reach for your phone. you blink the rest of sleep out of your eyes and thumb through your notifications, your eyes catching two missed calls from your best friend and roommate, vi, followed by a couple of text messages.

[vi, 10:48 am]: i’m assuming your ass is still asleep because i literally called you twice 

[vi, 10:48 am]: anyways

[vi, 10:48 am]: i’m at the store, ill bring groceries 4 dinner 

you smile, sending her a quick thank you text, and teasing her for finally paying attention to your list that you specially curate every week, instead of buying things on a whim.

violet was the perfect roommate. before the pair of you moved in together, you were both living in separate apartments, but always spending the night at each other’s places, so often that you had half of your wardrobe and a toothbrush at vi’s place. she had a few of her belongings at yours as well, but you had always preferred violet’s home, due to it’s comfort and larger space.

one early morning while you were sitting in her kitchen, eating up her food and wearing her borrowed clothes, vi had stumbled in to sit with you, half-asleep and hungry, rummaging through her cupboard to find something to snack on before the two of you settled on grabbing brunch together before work. 

“we should honestly just move in together,” you had suggested with a laugh, taking a bite of your cereal and dropping the spoon back into the clean bowl. you slid it across the counter, the very one that vi was leaning against, and she grabbed it to place it in the sink, “i’m not against it, honestly,” the red-haired girl spoke, shrugging, “though, i will have to kick you out when my girls come over, unfortunately.”

“you’re so disgusting.” you had spoken with a warm laugh, and you assumed that though the idea was out on the table, nothing would ever really come from it.

until not even a week later, vi had showed up to your apartment in a cropped muscle tee and shorts, the kind of wear that she only used to work out or fix her car in– so you knew she was preparing for something active. at first, you had assumed that she just got back from the gym, until you eyed the literal u-haul that was parked right next to her car.

“wait, violet!” you screeched as she playfully pushed past you into your home, already gathering things in your kitchen and putting them into piles to making the process as quick as possible. literally that same day, your belongings were all transported into vi’s home, and just a few short months afterwards, your apartment was back up for rent and you were splitting bills with vi.

she was probably the easiest person to live with. she, for the most part, was very clean, and made sure that neither person was doing more work than the other– everything was fair. sometimes, though, she’d leave her dishes in the sink or clothes on the floor after a shower, but she got it together eventually when she got exhausted from you constantly scolding her.

however, as time went on, things between you and vi got…weirder, at least from your perspective. 

for starters, she had a brutal staring problem. every time you’d catch her looking at you, it wasn’t in a way that was just normal eye contact or attentive listening– no, she would look at you like you were the only thing that existed. and vi being vi, she knew that you had caught onto whatever her problem was, but she didn’t care. not one bit. her eyes would dart all over you, examining you until she had to say something in response to whatever you were talking about. and often times, it would end in her blinking harshly and murmuring, “huh? sorry, repeat that?”

vi also found a way to be around you as much as possible. if you were showering, she’d claim that she needed to brush her teeth before bed or that she was sad and really wanted some company– so she’d take a seat on the toilet and talk to you while you showered. it didn’t strike you that it was necessarily abnormal at first, until one day, you had forgotten your towel and told vi to close her eyes so you could step out and grab one, but when you pulled the curtain back, her eyes were wide open.

she had apologized to you for days after that, claiming that she didn’t know you were coming out right that second, and she thought that you would’ve told her when to actually close her eyes– but you literally did. however, after you assured her that it was fine and she had already seen your body before, it wasn’t all that serious to you, and the both of you never talked about it again from that day forward.

stuff died down after the fact. vi had met a girl, and from the bottom of your heart, you genuinely hated her. no– actually, hate wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe how you felt about violet’s girlfriend. 

it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to like the girl– you had, and had even pushed your immediate thoughts and opinions about her to the side when you met her initially. but as time stretched on, the ability to tolerate her had waned significantly.

the first thing that turned you off from her was her words. she was an overly negative person, and always found something to complain about, whether the situation was even that serious or not. she always pushed her dissatisfaction onto vi, which led to your roommate often coming home to you angry crying or pissed off due to a stupid argument or fiery disagreement.

you knew that actions spoke louder than words, so you tried to give the girl the benefit of the doubt, but those didn’t reflect good character either, and you were honestly beginning to grow unsure of what vi even saw in this girl. you didn’t strike her as the type to tolerate shitty characteristics, but vi seemed like she was genuinely head over heels for this girl.

her girlfriend was also often touchy with other people, and not in the way that can pass as mere friendliness, but in the way that blurred the lines between a relationship and a friendship.

vi being vi, though, her mind was always focused elsewhere, especially on work. you doubted if she even liked vivienne, but she always got offended when you would ask about anything related to her, so you kept your quiet.

well, for as long as you could.

one day, vi came home so fueled with anger that she nearly toppled you over when trying to grab something from the cabinet next to you in the kitchen, and you finally lost it. all of this bickering and attitude that she was giving you– yeah, you had plenty of enough of it.

“okay, what the fuck is going on with you?” you asked, tossing the towel in your hand down onto the counter. vi didn’t even look at you, pulling the cabinet door open so hard it slapped the adjacent one, and you could tell that whatever happened when she was out was enough to send her over the complete edge.

“nothing,” she had snapped, grabbing a half-full bottle of tequila and setting it on the counter with a loud thud, “just a long day.”

“i’m calling bullshit.” you crossed your arms, unconvinced, “you’ve been walking around like a firecracker for weeks, i mean– vi, you practically knocked my shoulder out of its socket just now. you’re not fine.”

vi ignored you and reached for a glass– though it wasn’t really a glass, just the nearest coffee mug– and poured without saying a word. her jaw was tight and locked, and she looked like she was trying to swallow every emotion down with the liquor that swished in her cup.

you watched her take a long, hard sip, the muscles in her throat worked, her fingers curled tight around the handle, and you swallowed thickly. 

“it’s vivienne, isn’t it?”

that made her pause.

she didn’t say anything right away. she just set the mug down gently, which was such a major contrast from her demeanor just seconds ago. she stared at the tiled floor, not saying a word, and you felt yourself burn with guilt from pushing her too hard.

you softened, “vi…”

“i caught her flirting with someone else,” she finally said. her voice was low. a little hoarse. “like, actually flirting. not her usual weird fake-friendly shit. she gave this girl her number.”

your heart cracked. not because of vivienne, but because of the way vi was looking at the floor like she was mad at herself for letting herself finally be vulnerable with someone.

“gosh,” you whispered, “i’m…i’m sorry.” 

“yeah.” she laughed once, sharp, but it was obvious that she cared. though her mug was still half full, she pushed it into the sink, the clinking of the porcelain not phasing her at all. she turns around and leans up against the counter, her hands gripping the granite so harshly that her knuckles bleed white. “and i still stayed. can you believe that? like a fucking idiot. i trusted her and she threw that away like it was worth nothing.” 

you moved toward her slowly, arms uncrossing, “oh, vi…you’re not an idiot. you let yourself love, and that’s a beautiful thing. it’s okay to be upset, but she’s got some personal issues, ones that have nothing to do with you. i’m sure you’ll find someone who will actually appreciate you for all that you are.”

yeah, you. 

“i feel like one.” she looked up at you, and her eyes were rimmed red. not from tears— but you could tell that she was close, “gosh, i just wanted it to work. i wanted something to last. but every time i try, it just ends like this.”

your chest ached and throbbed against your ribs. you knew how deeply vi felt things, even if she pushed out this front of being stoic and heartless— it wasn’t the real her. you knew how much she craved loyalty, even if she pretended not to care about it, and you knew this was the first time that she didn’t leave before she got hurt. 

“you deserve more than that,” you said with a light shrug, “i mean, really— you’re an amazing girl, and vivienne didn’t deserve even an ounce of what you gave her.” 

vi blinked at you, pushing on her palms to prop herself up onto the counter. she then placed her hands in her lap, letting her feet swing naturally, and the room felt quiet for just a few, comfortable moments. she looked up at you with full, teary eyes, “you think so?” 

“i know so,” you affirmed, making your way over to her slowly, positioning yourself between her legs. you avoided eye contact, feeling your heart race as you tried to focus on anything other than her. you bit your tongue, knowing that if you said anything else, it would become more obvious that you had some type of feelings for the redhead. 

vi raised an eyebrow, but she says nothing. you’re both engulfed in another beat of silence, the only sound present being the faint whirring of the air conditioning and the machines working in the fridge. 

you attempt to enlighten the moment, “plus, i never liked her.”

vi scoffed, a real laugh breaking through as she wiped her thumb underneath her cheek, “yeah, no shit.”

“but seriously. she made you cry twice in one week. who the hell does that to you?”

“guess i’m just that lovable,” vi murmured, but the joke didn’t quite land. you frowned, your fingers brushing against  her wrist, trying to add a comforting touch, but you pulled back when her breath hitched. 

“i’m sorry,” you said softly, but with quickness, immediately withdrawing your hand and shoving it into your pocket. you stepped behind you and turned to your side, pretending to be interested in whatever was going on in front of you. 

but truth be told, you were nervous now. you had pushed a little too far, a bit too close for comfort, bad you weren’t sure how vi would react to that. she’s heartbroken and more vulnerable than ever, and now wasn’t the time to try to slide hints at her or make moves when she was clearly grieving someone she loved. 

“…come here,” she whispered out, arms beginning to stretch open. though hesitant, you obliged, stepping  into her arms, and she buried her face in your neck. the hug was tight— a little desperate, her fingers curled into the back of your shirt like she didn’t have any intentions on letting you go, and you didn’t want her to, either.

you stay like that for a while, buried in vi’s arms, your head falling into your shoulder, and hers did the same to you. she smells like smoke and musk and something darkly floral, and it makes your skin tingly. she’s warm and comfortable, and you wished you could stay in this position forever. 

all good things come to an end, though, and she pulls back, eyes searching your own. she sighs, “can i…stay in your bed tonight?”

you nodded, “yeah. of course.”

you spend the evening curled on the couch, head fallen onto vi’s shoulder as you watch some show that’s rolling on TV, but you’re not really watching it. you catch her eyeing you a couple of times when she thinks that you aren’t looking, but you are. you always are. 

and that night, she didn’t fake flirt or tease or make light of anything at all, she just curled up next to you under the covers like she belonged there, like this was something routine that you guys did on the regular. 

in the hush of the dark, while you eyes are fluttering close and your mouth is slightly parted out of relaxation, you feel a hand graze yours, a whisper floating through the dark. 

“i think it’s always been you.” 

₊⊹ taglist: @drunkinyourbenz

[fluffyfluffytime]

Look Up In The Sky! Is It A Bird? Is It A Plane? No It's... (Part 2) | Bob Reynolds x fem!Reader

Chapter summary: How Bob is handling the aftermath of the rejection.

Author's Note: I'm quite surprised how well-received part 1 was. I’m sorry part 2 took so long, I did a complete 180 with the draft. Anyways, if you would like to be in the taglist, let me know, I'll add you

Part 1

The team weren’t always the type of people who needed breakfast. However, given that they were gone for a month, where meals were sporadic, it was nice to a relatively normal eating schedule. Ava silently chewed on her cereal, with sleep in her eyes– enjoying sleeping in for once. Next to her sat John, who sat slouched while devouring his traditional American breakfast of eggs and bacon. Across from him, Bucky who sat upright while quietly flipping through today’s newspaper, his coffee half empty as an article caught his eye. Across the room, Alexei loomed over the pot on the stove, wearing an apron that said ‘kiss the chef’ and humming some russian song. A calm morning given the rambunctious group.

The quiet broke with the soft hiss of the door opening. Yelena strode on, her hair a mess– given she too had decided to sleep in, and made a beeline for the fridge 

“Bob’s not in the mood for breakfast”, she announced, grabbing the orange juice and letting the fridge door swing shut.

A chorus of groans followed

“He seriously needs to get over it,” John muttered, stabbing his eggs with unnecessary force. 

“He said he’ll go on walk, said it will help clear his head” Yelena replied, twisting off the cap and pouring it into a glass “But that’s probably bullcrap. He’s gone 20 walks this week”

Alexei let out a deep chuckle from the stove, “Don’t worry. When he comes back I give him cure for broken heart” he said, adding a pinch of salt into the stove.

Yelena leaned over, peering into the contents of the pot, face scrunched. “Is that suppose to be Ukha?”

“Yes”

“And exactly where is the fish?”

“Ehhh… had no time for market” He responded, “So I double everything else for replacement”

John raised a brow “How is a fishless fish stew supposed to help him?”

“Because I put extra of this,” Alexei lifted a bottle high, the overhead light causing it to shine like a gemstone

Ava squinted at it, her face morphed to an unimpressed expression at the realization of what it was “Vodka? Seriously?”

“What… it will make his heart burst,” Alexei declared, striking a fist across his chest. “With flame re-started, he will find passion with other woman”

Yelena, now settled at the table, next to Bucky, with her breakfast and a glass of orange juice, rolled her eyes. “With that soup, you’d probably give him actual heartburn”

“Actually,” Bucky muttered, not looking up from his newspaper, “with the serum, alcohol wouldn’t even affect him”

“At least I am trying to lift Moody Boy’s spirit,” Alexei huffed, giving the soup a stir “You people complain complain complain”

John waved his fork. “He got his heart broken by a crush, not his wife. He’ll live”

“Are you speaking from experience” Ava raised an eyebrow, with a little smug look on her face.

John paused mid chew. “What? No– shut up”

“I say we hunt down that waitress”, Yelena offered, only half-joking.

“With you on her trail”, Ava replied dryly, “she better start counting her day”

John dropped his fork, dragging a hand down his face. “Not this again,” he groaned, letting out an exasperated sigh. “She did nothing wrong”

“She did hurt Bob,” Ava said between chews of her cereal

“His feelings. It's not like she skinned him”

“She could’ve been nicer,” Yelena chimed in, arms crossed as she leaned back in her chair

John pointed a finger, jabbing it in their direction. “You two are both hypocrites”

“We are not”  “This is different”

“Yes.You.Are” John jabbed the table. “Apparently ‘no means no’ doesn’t apply to a nice, awkward guy”

Yelena rolled her eyes. “She gave him mixed signals. She was practically flirting with him”

“She’s a waitress, Lena! Of course, she’s gonna be nice. She works off tips,” John snapped, “Unbelievable. You two have never worked in the service industry, so you don’t get a say in this.”

“She could have been nicer”, Yelena muttered

“How much nicer do you want her to be?” John shot back. “She was honest. She told him why she said no– which by the way, she didn’t even have to do”

Yelena rolled her eyes. “Bucky, come on. Back us up”

Without looking up from the newspaper, Bucky grunted, “I’m too old for dating dilemmas”

John pushed his chair back and stood up. “You know what? I don’t think the problem is her– it’s you”

Yelena scoffed, clearly offended by the insinuation “Me?” 

“Yes, you” John pointed. “You treat Bob like he’s some helpless kid. Newsflash– he’s a grown man. He doesn’t need to be coddled”

“I do no such thing” Yelena fired back “Unlike you, I watch out for people I care about”

Bucky sighed, finally looking upfrom the paper “Okay, break it up, you two”

John ignored him “No. No, no, no, she needs to–”

He was cut of by a faint rumble, it hummed beneath the floor. Barely noticeable, just enough to make the surface of Bucky’s coffee ripple.

Everyone paused. Eyes darted. Not a single word uttered

Then came another wave– this one stronger. The floor gave a light shudder, and a few utensil clinked against their plates

Ava first to break the silence. “...You guys feel that too, right?”

Alexei, with the bottle of vodka gripped in his hands, tense. “Is it an earthquake?”

John braced himself against the table “Doesn’t feel like it”

Just then, everyone’s phone buzzed in unison. One by one, screens lit up with a red notification.

EMERGENCY ALERT 

An evacuation warning has been issued in your area. Remain vigilant of any threats and be ready to evacuate. Gather loved ones, pets and supplies. Continue to monitor local weather, news and the webpage

Yelena scoffed, “As if that answers our question ”

Bucky’s phone rang. Without a word, he stood, sauntered to the side and answered, his expression tense. “Mel?”

There was a long pause on the other end. Judging by the way Bucky furrowed his brows and tightened his jaw, whatever Mel was saying wasn’t good.

“Seriously?” He asked, his voice clipped and his shoulders square. “Put Valentina on the phone”

“You made us the new Avengers,” he said quietly, but clearly on edge, given how hard he gripped his phone. “So let us handle this”

He lets out a sigh when the call ends. Lowering his phone with deliberate slowness. His jaw was squared. He looked at the others “Everyone, suit up. Manhattan is under attack”

Yelena shot up, eyes wide “Bob! He went out for a walk”

The room froze.

—

 Bob wasn’t really sure where he was going. He’d been walking aimlessly for the past half hour, hands in his pockets, head down.

 The warmth of the morning sun did feel nice against his skin, but it did little to thaw the cold pit in his chest. He knew he shouldn’t be too bent over a rejection, you had every right to turn him down. But it wasn’t just the prospect of a romantic relationship that got him down. Outside of the tower, you were the closet thing he had to a friend.

The two of you would talk about the latest book, show or movie consumed. He was always interested hearing your opinion on it, even if they were horrible. 

You’d also gotten to the point where he told you more about his personal struggles, albeit he did leave some stuff out. Surprisingly, it felt good telling you, even though all you did was listen, like a weight had been lifted off his chest

 He loved hearing more about you. The shenanigans you got up to as a kid from the country side reminded him of the main character in a book her read as a child. The story that got him laughing the hardest was the one where you tried sneaking in Betsy, your favourite cow, into the house

In his world of tragic backstory, spies, missions and experimental procedure. You were the normalcy he didn’t know he craved. It was refreshing

 Stopping in his track he realized, maybe he should just head back. Instead of lifting his spirit, his mind kept wondering back to you. He couldn’t stand the ache echoing in his ribs.

Then–

He felt it. A faint rumble beneath his feet 

Bob paused. It was subtle. Barely noticeable. Looking around, people seemed unbothered. Was it just him who felt this

But then it came again– stronger this time. The vibration made the storefront window hum and loose pebbles skitter across the pavement. People stopped walking and looked around. Alright so it wasn’t just him.

A military trucked tore past the intersection ahead, followed by another. A helicopter roared overhead, the sounds of it’s blade chopping through the air. Sirens began to scream in the distance.

Bob turned, confused– just then his phone buzzed violently in his pocket. Pulling it out, he was met with a notification

EMERGENCY ALERT 

He stood there, blinking at the screen. Around him, the street had erupted into chaos—people running, yelling, trying to reach their cars or get underground. The world was spinning too fast. He didn’t register the police officer yelling at him until the man grabbed his arm.

“Sir, you need to evacuate—now!”

Bob nodded automatically.

He started running with the crowd, feet pounding the pavement. His phone buzzed again—this time a call. Probably one of the team.

He fumbled for it, but a sharp bump from someone behind him knocked it from his hand. It clattered to the ground.

“Shit–!”

He dove to grab it, but another person crashed into him, then another. Then he realized— the crowd was changing direction

That’s when he saw it,

In the distance, looming above the buildings, it’s armored legs crunching down onto the cars– piercing though it like tin can. It was a massive scorpion

The stinger looked modified, turned into a canon given that it glowed blue. With a shriek it fired a beam of raw energy down the street. Taking down the line of tanks and soldier that just arrived. 

It shrieked once more, it’s stinger arched and aimed. This time shooting at the rooftop of the building he was standing next to. Bob threw his arms up, expecting to be crushed by falling rubble–

But it never came.

No pain. No impact 

Just wind

He opened his eyes. 

For a split second, he thought he was dead. Instead of being buried beneath rubble, he was surrounded by clouds. Feeling the cool wind on his face, he felt weightless

Then, a flicker of dread crawled up is spine. Wait, he’s felt like this before, at the vault. 

No. No, no, no–

Had the Sentry taken over?

He squirmed, heart pounding fast.

That’s when the grip around him tightened, he realized that he was cradled securely in someone’s arm.

Then he looked up. 

His breath hitched at the very sight of her. Her (y/c/h) hair whipped wildly against the wind. Her (y/c/e) eye were mesmering but they were rimmed red.

A single tear rolled down her cheek.

“I didn’t know angels could cry,” Bob uttered, his voice hoarse.

The woman blinked, startled for a moment. Then broke out into a smile, like relief had washed over her. “Are you okay?”

Bob could only nod back, throat too tight to speak. Still, mostly confuse with the situation– not really sure if he was ascending to the afterlife or not. 

“Good” she sighed in relief, eyes scanning ahead. 

Moments later, she touched down on the roof of a building, far away from the chaos. There were already people gathered, most covered in dirt and dusk– likely other civilians she’d rescued.

“You should be safe here.” She said as she let him down gently.

Before Bob could thank her, she was gone– a streak of blue and red vanishing into the sky, heading back to the chaos.

Bob stood frozen, breath shallow, the imprint of her hand still lingering around him.

Who was that?

---

Taglist: @yagurlannastasia @yyiikes @one17 @abbyrxx @hiraethmae @msfirth @cherrypieyourface

[deadhands69]

By a Thread part 3

Tomura Shigaraki x Witch Reader

fluff inspired by the prompt: "listening to the other's heartbeat" thanks for sending it anon, sorry this one took a while to update! I usually try to keep things relatively blank/fill in your own info for a lot of x reader but at some point that becomes really boring or difficult to write. in this case, the dog didn't have a name initially but after editing this, she does now because this part is pretty dog heavy and there are only so many times of saying "the dog" before it sounds less like an included character and more like some rando dog that you barely know and don't care about. so anyways, her name is Hazel like witch hazel! (both for the name + Tomura finds her soothing)

[previous] [series masterlist]

Spring has fully taken off, which means you've been here for weeks now.

The transition to moving in with Tomura went smoother than expected. Not only do you have your own bedroom with a door and everything, you now have fancier furniture than you know what to do with. 

Sure, you had a bed in your cottage but it was hard and rustically made, to put it nicely. It’s all you ever knew before this though, so you were used to it. This one is wool that you sink softly into. The sheets are soft and smooth against your skin. Every night, you’ve had dreams about sleeping in a cloud – which makes sense, you basically are.

Even Tomura’s chairs are nicer, plushy where yours weren't. It's taken you some time to get used to the luxuries, but Hazel has adapted fast – not wasting any time before cozying into her own small bed placed in your room. 

Of course, there is still so much you miss about your cottage. 

Your belongings. Your garden. The warmth of your small space. Particularly on windy nights like tonight when the old house holds a draft that can't be easily quelled. The window sashes shake against the force of the salty air coming off the ocean.

You’re happy to have somewhere safe to be though, in spite of it all. 

Living with another person has been less jarring than you expected as well. Neither of you are particularly intrusive – he mostly keeps to himself, leaving for solid days without warning, holing up in the study, and spending hours in his room doing...something. If you’re being honest, you’ve barely seen him since the two of you arrived here. 

Tonight you hear him. The sound of him scraping at something in his room turns to footsteps creaking on the old stairs. You peek your head out to make sure he’s okay. 

Tomura stands at the window, staring out. Absentmindedly, he pets the dog’s head when she rubs against his leg.

Things have felt different since you’ve arrived. Maybe it was always like this. You did only know him for one night before moving in and of that night, you spent most of it asleep. Still, there’s a certain tension in the air that you don’t recall from before. His gaze never quite meets your eyes but you catch him stealing glances when he doesn’t think you’re looking. It’s probably normal, all part of adjusting to having another person in your space.

“Night,” he mumbles before continuing up the stairs to his room. You go back to yours, staring out the window for a while. There's something else out there after sundown. It doesn't permeate into his yard, but you can feel it all around. There's a distinctly different, dark energy on everything. 

It almost feels like it’s getting stronger.

By the time you wake up, the wind has died into a gentle breeze – it’s time to get to work, you have a long day ahead of you. 

Even with the on and off rains, you’ve been busy rebuilding something close to a temporary replacement for your garden. While you don’t intend to stay here forever, you have no immediate plans for where you’ll go yet. Thus, it made sense to have a small patch here – at least for this year. Tomura was happy to let you use whatever space you’d like to and, while he never actually said it, his eyes lit up at the prospect of fresh fruits and vegetables. You wonder the last time he made himself an actual meal. From what you’ve seen, there’s been nothing but quick to heat grains in the house until you arrived. Even now, there’s not much more you can make with what limited supplies you have.

There’s a windowed area built onto the side of the house that makes the perfect greenhouse. It’s a bit overgrown and, like everything else here, in some state of disrepair, but you don’t mind. It’s still spring so there’s a bit of time left to get most seeds going. Beets, peas, and sunflower shoots are all spilling over the edges of their pots. Some have been transplanted already, you’re slowly moving what you can into the plots you dug up. Hazel came out and helped, but it’s unclear how much she understands of the situation and you think she may have just wanted an excuse to play in the dirt.

What you’ve been able to grow will have to do for now, considering that they’re the only seeds you had stuck drying between the pages of your grimoire. Soon you’ll also need to go into town for more seeds, you’re not sure when that will be safe though. Tomura knows you need the seeds, in addition to other necessities, and said he has an idea. That was the second day you were here. Neither of you have brought it up since then.

In the meantime, you’ll have to go back into the forest to forage. It’s the least you can do to repay him for allowing you to stay.

You’re not really sure what Tomura is doing this morning, but you’d like to take advantage of the nicer weather. The breeze is warmer than the past few days and the clouds look unassuming. While your magic has never been perfectly in tune with the weather, you have no concerns. It’s as good of a day as any for a walk. 

After feeding yourself and Hazel then tending to the new plants, you’re ready to go. In the few weeks you’ve spent in this house, you haven't seen a basket anywhere so you bring an extra piece of cloth to wrap what you gather for the return trip.

When you walked here before, you were exhausted. Sure, you remember some of your surroundings, but you didn’t get a close look at them.

Tomura’s house is the only one remaining in what used to be a small town by the looks of it. Outlines of the houses still remain. Neither you nor your dog move closer to investigate. You can see well enough from the road. Their blackened foundations are etched into the landscape by a powerful dark magic. It feels similar to what you saw Tomura use the night your cottage burned down, but more concentrated. Part of you wants to ask him about it, but given that he’s the only person you’ve seen out here, you could probably guess. It’s hard to wrap your head around it, this was done by the same person who so easily took you in when you were in need. He’s not someone you’d describe as warm or friendly, but the juxtaposition of his doings still feels incomprehensible. You can see why they call him the symbol of fear.

The darkness appears to stretch over the entire peninsula. By the time you’ve reached the end, you’ve almost gotten used to the vacant lots. The rolling grass hills feel out of nowhere. 

Up you go, following a faint path to the top of the ridgeline. Rather than going back out towards the town, you continue straight into the forest. The trees become less windswept, growing closer together. Soon you’re back in your element.

Recent rains, followed by the warmer weather brought up a huge crop of mushrooms. The faint orange clusters stand out against the detritus. You cut off what you can carry, stuffing them in your makeshift bag. A few bunches of fiddlehead ferns catch your eyes as well. You take some of the tender shoots that have yet to unfurl. The cloth wrapped around your shoulder fills easily as you collect. With any luck, this should last you a few days.

Following Hazel further into the forest, you come across a stream. The two of you stop for water before continuing further up the hill. Light shines brighter through the trees and the sound of water grows louder. In a few more turns, the stream widens beneath a waterfall. It’s not massive by any means, but still just as pretty. Water trickles down boulders between vivid green moss. Hazel jumps in immediately. You watch as she plays in the water, taking off your boots to do the same. 

There’s something about beautiful spaces that makes you forget time. Hours slip by faster and before you know it the sun is settling behind the trees much sooner than you expected. Warm light illuminates the stream as you follow it back down the hill towards the peninsula. It looks like a golden snake slithering its way down to the ocean. You turn as soon as the trees begin to thin, in search of the faint trail that led you here. 

The sunset fades to pink, then darkens quickly.

Too quickly. 

A sense of foreboding overwhelms you as you rush down the grass covered hill towards the house. Once more, you curse yourself for not knowing more protective spells. Summoning some small amount of energy from the surrounding plants, you cast a thin shield over yourself and Hazel. It’s not much but it will be better than nothing. You hope the feeling is all in your head.

By the time you reach the road, darkness surrounds you. It’s as if the air you breathe is closing in around you. Everything goes cold, you’re shivering as you rush as fast as you can. But fast isn’t fast enough. It feels like a dream when you’re trying to run and being held back. You feel the spell you cast being pulled off of you. Then, warm hands on your shoulders. 

Startled, you turn to find yourself face to face with Tomura. 

“Take Hazel and run,” he growls. 

“What about you?” he doesn’t respond, shoving past you.

Through the haze, you manage to follow your dog towards the house. Your legs move easier now, but you still feel yourself in the grasp of an entity you can’t quite place. Focusing on throwing one foot in front of the other, you make it to the end of the peninsula.

As soon as you stumble through the gate, the world expands. Goosebumps disappear from your skin as the temperature rises back to normal. Hazel stands nearby, panting while watching something outside the fence. She seems to have fared better than you in all of this, whatever it is didn’t seem to hold onto her the same as it did to you.

Just as you start to get worried, Tomura stumbles through the gate, slamming it shut behind him. You jump up to help him, noticing a slew of new cuts over his face and hands. The two of you make it a few steps with you supporting his weight before falling onto the grass.

His arms hang limply over you, holding you to his chest. His breathing is slow, shallow. You listen for his heartbeat. It beats wildly, calming over time as the two of you catch your breath. He begins to stir, allowing you to roll onto your back.

“What was that?” you gasp.

“Nothing you need to deal with,” he grumbles, “why did you leave here without me?”

Hazel has settled in on his other side, head resting on his shoulder.

“To find dinner,” you say, pulling the nearly forgotten bundle of food from your shoulder.

“Next time come find me, I’ll go with you. No one should go into that forest alone at night, especially not you.”

“Why me?” you ask, “I notice whatever it is didn’t go for Hazel in the same way.”

“You have magic.” He sighs, sleepily. “And as of now, you’re also tied to me. So he wants you more than before.”

“So, having a connection to you makes him more interested in me?” 

“Forget I said anything,” Tomura mumbles.

There are so many questions you have that would take days to answer, but you know you won’t get anything out of him tonight. Instead, you lay here staring up at the stars. Eventually, he breaks the silence.

“Do you think all of this would have happened anyways, without the potion?”

“Maybe,” you say. “I mean, it’s quite the coincidence that you just so happened to be passing by my cottage at the times you were. If it wasn’t the potion, something brought us together.”

“Like fate?” he asks.

“If you believe in that sort of thing.” All of your conversations with Tomura up to this point have led you to believe he's too practical to buy into such things.  

“The fact that we can have our destinies tied together by a potion implies that fate is real. And if fate is real, wasn’t I always destined to end up on your doorstep somehow?” He’s moved closer, pressing up onto his elbow to face you. Of course he would have some sensible reasoning but it's a surprise to you how much he seems to have thought into your intertwined lives. Initially, he shrugged it off like he didn't care. Maybe he feels more than he lets on. Suddenly, you're aware of the closeness between the two of you. 

“Hmm,” you say slowly, giving yourself time to think. You wish you had more experience with conversations like this. “I never thought of it that way.” 

“No? How do you see it then?” he presses. Not in a demanding way, more like he's insatiably curious. It's an interesting feeling, it's not that you've never spoken with people, you have, but no one has ever wanted your opinion on something. Not like this. 

“I don’t know, the future feels like some nebulous cloud of possibility. This just solidified a direction.”

“So you do believe in fate?” His eyes scream 'I'm right' but his smile remains playful. Something in you melts against your will, making it hard to find the right words. 

“In some way,” you contemplate, “I think there are still some choices within it. But I guess so. This was always an outcome.”

“Does that matter to you?” he asks, leaning in closer. You can feel him a short breath away. 

“Does fate matter?” you ask. 

“No, does it matter if it was a potion or not? You're the first person I've ever been close with and I'm assuming it's the same for you. Does it bother you that this is all from something you created?” a flash of genuine concern crosses his face before you open your mouth to answer. 

“No.” You state it definitively, bringing the curiosity back into his features. “No, it doesn't bother me. If we're going through our lives like this regardless, I'd rather not let anything cheapen it. This is how it is and we'll never know otherwise. Besides, we create everything in our lives. Some of us just have other means of making things happen.”

His eyes narrow at you as he smirks, “is that not what got you into this mess? If you weren't making love potions for half the town–” he drops it, realizing the last half of his sentence is less fun than he intended. “Uhm, speaking of the town,” he continues, more seriously. “I am still working on that.”

“How's that going? Unless you can transform us, I don't see how we won't stand out immediately in that crowd.”

“Don't worry,” he assures you, “I have it all figured out.”

[series masterlist] [bnha masterlist]

i picked the prompt for the next part (i saw it and really wanted to write it for this!), but still accepting prompts from the lists on the masterlist or any i've shared to continue the story after that

taglist: @kitkat13001 @kennys-partner @amira-44820 @its-evee16 @thesecond2demonking

@shigarakislaughter @dance-with-me-in-hell @minniessskii @vaval3ntin @ykyouluvme 

@dummi666 @lotus-flower420 @nonominchan @softnfuzzy @mysticalhills 

@reireitaka @crwavee @baby-pink-flowers @drlucichen @frieren-imposter

 @lou-the-naga-queen @multifandomidk @love-for-yoosung-kim  @xytraxpy @venom-barf 

@shiiigaraki @thetinas21 @spam-1

[vxnillabxn]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ knight!caleb x gn!reader ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ fluff, a biiiit of angst! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw (alcohol briefly mentioned)! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚this one has been in progress for a while !!! mind you, i have quite a lot of drafts, so i'll be posting as i correct them. but omg !! i just love this trope, lebbie is perfect for it. a man who yearns? yes, please ♡ ꒰ˆ◞⸝⸝◟ˆ ꒱੭ﾞ

he'd watch you for hours.

ever since you two were the same age, he'd watch from afar. when you were by the dining hall, learning which utensils to use first.

when you were gracefully learning to walk with a pile of books balanced on your head.

when the servants took your measurements, only for your skin to later carry the most luxurious fabrics.

he'd admire how breathtaking and regal you were. of course, as royalty, you had to be. it's not like you had much choice. but he's convinced that even if you weren't royalty, you'd still carry that same elegance and charm, the kind that draws everyone in.

he now stands by the floor-to-ceiling doors leading to the main salon, where you dance and quietly mingle, despite not having any fun. he remains upright, his posture firm, his gaze unwavering —always focused on your safety.

he's a loyal knight, after all.

but he sees it; the weariness in your expression, the way your smile never quite reaches your eyes.

he notices.

so when you finally slip away to the gardens, he must follow too. it is his duty. or at least, that's the excuse.

you notice. it's hard not to, when a bright pair of violet eyes are fixed on you with quiet intensity. and truth be told, it doesn't bother you.

maybe it's the wine.

you fan your warm face and glance at him, deliberately, your gaze soft and teasing. he stands straight, poised, unshakable, or so he tries to seem. your lips curl into a grin as you curtsey. he blushes. he quickly bows his head, eyes closed, before his gaze remains glued to the floor.

you cover your mouth to hide the giggle threatening to escape. a rather... interesting reaction from one of the strongest knights, you must admit.

the music still plays behind you: an upbeat mix of violins and a fast piano melody that keeps the nobles dancing. but you simply breathe in, savoring the sweet aroma of peonies and the nearby apple trees heavy with fresh produce.

he looks up when he hears your sigh, concern instantly flashing in his eyes. what could be troubling you? what could he possibly do to help? his hands twitch slightly at the thought, before he forces himself to remain composed.

he is a man who yearns, after all.

he wants nothing more than to fulfill his duty to protect you. or, well, the royal family. that's what he tells himself.

so when you extend your gloved hand toward him, eyes gleaming with mischief —though never with ill intent— and a soft grin playing on your lips...

he's stunned.

you're inviting him to dance. clearly, you'd rather do anything else than speak with another noble, so why not be a little bold?

he doesn't answer right away —not because he doesn't want to—, because for a moment, he truly believes he must be dreaming. but five minutes later, you're both tucked behind a tall wall of vines. you giggle quietly as he holds your waist with one hand and your delicate fingers with the other. he's elated. he feels like he's floating. therefore, he makes you float too, spinning you gently with ease.

it feels forbidden, but innocent enough. he's taking this dance seriously, though.

and as you try to muffle your laughter, he looks down at you with all the intensity he keeps locked behind armor. the tips of his ears are red.

he wishes he could draw emotions, that he could sketch the way your hand feels against his, the way your laugh echoes in his chest, the way your playful, mischievous eyes could convince him to burn down a kingdom. because then, he would be able to carry a book full of messy sketches of you and what you do to him.

after all... he is, in fact, just a man who yearns.

after the brief dance, duty calls. you must return to the salon. you curtsey once more, and disappear. he remains frozen. stunned. and now, more determined than ever. determined to protect you. to keep you safe. to preserve the playfulness you so freely gave him tonight, so it might happen again.

because he'll keep watching you for hours, and hours, and hours...

until one day, you start watching him back with the same longing.

[peelingpaint-heavyheart]

im such a slut for pink seonghwa, and him looking like that in that one ghp2 concept photo had me feral LIKE THE BODY CHAINS???? HELLO?? youre gonna ignore how this was in my drafts since those concept photos released back in like november

tags: dom! reader x sub! hwa, grinding, dirty talk, cowgirl, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), pet names (baby, toy) if i missed anything let me know, this thing isnt beta read so...

warning~~ it is alluded that hwa and reader were drinking before hooking up but not to the point of being drunk, just tipsy yk? but still, know your boundaries and as always, don't like don't read!

~ 2.0k words (not proofread)

--

when seonghwa was invited to this party tonight, he would have never have bet that he would end up like this, let alone with his best friend's sister. you two barely knew each other, only catching glimpses of the other when seonghwa was over to hang out with your brother. but one thing you noticed, every moment you saw seonghwa, he always looked too good to be real.

and when you caught sight of him downstairs in that low cut black crop top and silver body chains catching the strobe lights, you couldnt allow yourself to miss the opportunity. you had quickly shot the rest of your drink back before abandoning your red solo cup and approached him through the crowded living room.

and somehow between your mutual fumbled flirting (and slight intoxication) you managed to drag him upstairs to the nearest empty bedroom, pushing him down on the bed as you crawled between his legs. wandering hands exploring every surface they could reach while you made yourself at home nestled beneath his sharp jaw, tongue laving over his hot honey skin. the sounds that those actions withdrew from him only served to turn you on, spurring you on to hear more and more, pushing him to the limits of pleasure.

now the bass was booming downstairs but it was nothing but a muffled afterthought as you had seonghwa below you, panting hard as you grind over his stomach. your slit caught the glinting silver of his body chains as you moved your hips in their slow, smooth rhythm, a trail of slick marking his stomach down to his lower abdomen.

the sight of seonghwa was like witnessing art being created in real time, his head laying back against the pillow, cotton candy pink hair splayed around him and his bangs sticking to his forehead in sweaty clumps. his pretty glossy lips were caught between his teeth to keep his voice down and he was fighting to keep his eyes trained on you as you moved above him. his fingers were dug into your hips, not guiding you but simply holding on, for reassurance you were really his in this moment.

"y-y/n~" seonghwa whined, resisting with what little willpower he had left not to buck his hips, "please, stop teasing."

you smiled wickedly from above him, purposefully pressing down harder as you slid down his abdomen. you moan without restraint as the chains disappearing below his v-line into his pants caught your clit, pleasure shooting through your veins. you slide a bit lower than usual, your ass meeting his neglected erection still restrained in his pants, and the moan that falls from his lips is the most sinful music you've ever heard.

"pretty baby, can't take it?" you ask with faux sweetness, your movements unrelenting. seonghwa tried to focus on you, bless his heart, but his fucked out gaze was barely following yours.

"can't, y/n, really can't," he said desperately, pulling your hips down further to rest your bare cunt over his erection, uncaring for how your juices were ruining his pants. with how hard he was right now, he was sure his pants would've been ruined by his precum already with how he was surely leaking through his boxers.

you chuckled, entertaining his shortlived control. you both knew he wasn't leading in this situation but you won't punish him for this just yet. "you can't take this but you think you can handle being inside me?"

seonghwa seemed to struggle for an answer, his hips twitching with need below you. "well... i just... can't y/n, please no more. i need it." and you believed him, with how well he had been holding back, listening to you when you first told him not to explore, only hold, his shining round eyes dilated with lust, the way his nails were digging into the skin of your hips. you wouldn't be surprised to find little crescents there tomorrow morning.

"tell you what," you suggest playfully, pressing down on his bulge to taunt him as you speak, "you can be inside on the condition that i tell you when to cum."

seonghwa's entire face lit up as if you had just gifted him the moon and the stars. he nodded frantically, holding your hips down to maintain the pressure over his cock he'd been craving. "anything, i swear," he agreed breathlessly, his body shaking with anticipation of finally feeling your heat, "i'll do it."

you smirk, leaning down to ghost kisses down the unmarked column of his neck, his back arching up as your hands worked on pulling his pants down. you weren't even bothered to properly undo his belt, loosening it enough to allow you to free his desperate cock. you lift your hips up, staving off any contact in favour of teasing him even more.

"such a good toy, agreeing so quickly." your hand found the zipper of his crop top, pulling it down the rest of the way to the reveal the expanse of his chest to you. it was only fair you got to see as much of him as he did of you, the only difference was you got to touch, to savour it.

as the black fabric fell apart from his body, you subconsciously licked your lips, admiring his slim yet broad figure. your hands made their new home on his searing skin, sliding up his ribs before planting on his shoulders. you adjusted yourself, his fat tip intentionally catching your folds making him groan.

receiving the reaction you were looking for, you finally go down on him, sinking down on his cock smoothly until you were comfortably sitting on him. if someone didnt know any better, they couldve mistaken it for you sitting in his lap. your tight walls fluttered around his aching cock, making him bite his lip to resist moving inside you.

"please can i move? let me move," seonghwa pleaded, practically trembling from how he was holding back. you leaned forward, kissing the corner of his lips, your tone full of condescension as you shushed him.

"i said you could be inside, not move. just relax and take it." you experimentally rolled your hips, getting the feeling for him inside you and his cock twitched, a breathy "fuck" falling from his lips.

seonghwa was sensitive, that much you knew, but it still didn't prepare you for the purely pathetic moan that echoed as you start to bounce on him. its raw and needy and his hands tightened around your hips as he desperately held onto the remains of his conscious thought lest he started bucking into you against your command.

your teeth bite down momentarily on his earlobe before leaving just as quickly for you to place wet kisses along his sharp jaw. the delicious drag of your walls around seonghwa's thick cock further pushed any rationality from his mind, surrendering his body for your use. if anyone had seen the two of you downstairs, they would've assumed that you would be the one gasping for air and begging to cum, not the other way around.

"more, more," he whined, already sounding thoroughly wrecked. you lick over the most recent kiss you planted on him, making him shiver beneath you.

"relax, baby. you're getting impatient." you ducked back down to his neck and found purchase in the unmarked honey skin. you take him slow and deep, rolling your hips against his so he could feel every inch of himself against every inch of you. when you suck a hickey onto his neck, seonghwa throbbed, the sweetness of release a fog behind his eyes he couldn't quite dispel. it was something in your mean tone, coupled with the neverending teasing, you dangling his pleasure just above his head, out of reach, that turned him on so much.

you recognised the thick cloud of lust in his eyes as he attempted to stay still, to continue letting you use him as you desired. he wanted to be good for you, and by god was he trying his best to please you. and you believe begging and obedience should never be left unrewarded.

"i'll let you cum inside... you can fill me up, can't you, baby?" you say sweetly, the former sharpness melting away as you wantd to push seonghwa over the edge. if he was so pretty downstairs getting riled up by your teasing, and so gorgeous while you played with him now, surely he must look stunning, angelic even, if you were to made him cum. you wouldn't miss the opportunity for the world.

seonghwa's eyes fell closed as he could just almost taste the sensation he was chasing as you started bouncing on him faster. oh, what he wouldn't give to feel your walls milk him dry as he painted your insides white, his load dripping between your thighs. he wanted to see you full of him, the mixture of your cum and his stuffing you to the brim and no doubt would make your lower belly bulge. the fantasy was driving him insane as he was almost there, his newly awakened dream seconds from becoming reality, if only you would just let him.

this denial, this control you had over him, it thrilled seonghwa knowing you decided whether he could cum, or leave with the most painful boner he's ever had. if you so wished, maybe he'd truly discover the pain of blue balls and have the coldest shower of his life while jerking himself off.

even the thought of getting himself off after you denied him felt wrong, a betrayal even if you weren't present. if you hadn't let him cum, then what right did he have to go against your word even after the encounter was over?

"i-i can, i will! just please let me, i'll show you, i need to," seonghwa begged, teetering so close to the edge he couldn't restrain himself anymore from bucking into you. still, there was that one thread that held him together, one he craved to destroy so that he may lose himself in you completely. that one thread that only you could snap as you had him wrapped around your finger while you were wrapped around his dick.

your lips curled up into a smirk as you completely drank in his desperation, drunk on this feeling of being so consumed in one another and the pleasure you were sharing. your hands slide up from his shoulders and into his bubblegum pink locks, his soft hair and your fingers intertwined as you spoke against his lips, caught between his heavy breaths. the movements slow as you become almost gentle in how you swirl your hips and clench around him.

"go ahead, baby, i know you want it. cum inside me." as if an animal in heat, seonghwa's grip turns to iron as he bucks into you, his cock reaching impossibly deep. it has you seeing stars as you both let go together, basking in your combined pleasure as you press your chest to his, eliminating any and all other space between you.

your shared moans are exchanged in your interlocked lips, stuttered swears and groans of each other's name barely caught as you both cum, the thread inside seonghwa snapping finally with your permission. youre filled with his sticky warmth as you soak his cock, soiling not just his lap below you but the sheets of the bed as the last of the wet clapping of your bodies finally halts.

you pull back from seonghwa slightly, only enough to take in his pure blissful expression. surely no one has ever looked so devastatingly beautiful. you actively feel your own heart softening and you lean in and kiss his lips sweetly, the earlier intensity simmering, cooling.

"did so well for me, my perfect toy." your thumb ran down his v-line, collecting your fluids from his skin and smearing it on his lips. at the sensation, seonghwa's eyes open, heavy lidded and still shadowed with lust as his tongue cleans the mess on his mouth. the sweetness of you blooms on seonghwa's tongue, makes his mouth water for more. he's gotten a taste of you, a tease of everything he could have, and he isn't afraid to be greedy.

as his mind clears, he vaguely thinks he's never come so hard so fast before. you've shown him the tantalising euphoria of being under your control, he's already addicted and he cant stand to go without it now that he's hooked.

--

not 100% happy with the ending but im tired of procrastinating this and i wanted to put it out but anyway i hope you liked :3

[hanjicakes]

꒰ 𝜗𝜚 ꒱ beware

synopsis .ᐟ - you and chris were never meant to work out, but when he shows up again, can you actually resist?

content info .ᐟ - nonidol!chan x gender neutral!reader, but the word 'girl' is used for reader once but in a slang way yk?, they both ain't shit, lots of mentions of alcohol, reader has canonically been to jail and has an alcohol problem, chris is an alleged cheater, chan referred to as chris

word count .ᐟ - 4.1k words

author ' s note .ᐟ - hey... it's been a while... my phone broke so lowkey wasn't focused but i'm here now!! this was in the drafts for a while and also can we tell i CANNOT write toxicity?? go easy on me guys

my mastrlist ૮₍›ᆺ ‹ ₎ა

You should’ve listened to your friends.

Your subconscious replays those words over and over again. You weren’t made for each other. You were terrible for each other. What made you think this could possibly work? Jealousy seeped into your bones, ran through your veins, and ruined every relationship you ever had. This time wasn’t any different— it never was.

You lean against the cool bar as you down the most recent drink you ordered. You had lost track of the number of glasses you sent back to the bartender. It didn’t matter much, anyways. They weren’t going to stop a paying customer, no matter how intoxicated they already were. The loud music doesn’t help the pangs in your head. The bass rattles through your core. It feels like you’ve been chucked into a giant blender with all the hateful words, the sour tears, and the glass bottles you finished alone and the only thing you can do is continue to drown yourself.

Slowly, you move away from the bar and towards the dance floor. Drunk, sweaty bodies crowd together to thrust and grind against each other in a practice that is nowhere near elegant or appropriate. You know you came with your friends and you glance around in hopes of spotting one of them. You spot one of them squished in a leather booth with a man you certainly didn’t know. Their mouths are connected in an almost animalistic way and they don’t seem to be letting go anytime soon. You look away and shudder slightly. Turning around to return back to your sanctuary at the bar, you recklessly run into a man standing off with his friends.

You barely recognize that you spilled your drink until the coldness seeps through your outfit. You mentally curse yourself for wearing something that stains easily. Your mind whirls with a possible response for this accident and the one you choose is to get defensive. You immediately stand up to your full height and grip your glass.

“Why the hell are you standing in the middle—” You begin, only for the words to die on the tip of your tongue. Bile bubbles inside your gut as you look eyes with the man who wasn’t much of a stranger at all. He stares down at you with a furrowed brow, his plush lips curled downwards into a disappointed scowl.

“You drink too damn much, you know that?” Chris says. His voice is low and you’re sure you are the only person who heard him. Despite all the music blasting, his words rattle through your core and shake your mind into a jumbled mess. You try to speak up again but nothing escapes your mouth except a weak whine. He looks at you as if you were nothing more than a waste of time— a disappointment who drained the life out of him. On one hand, you did. You sucked out everything he had to offer and then more. On the other hand, he made your life a living hell.

Maybe you were meant for each other. In some sick, disgusting way.

The crinkle of fast food wrappers is almost like music to your ears. You and your friends had just spent the last few hours walking around the new shopping mall in your city and were, quite frankly, worn out. You sat on the hard, plastic food court chair, slurping on your slushy while two of your friends bickered over which movie you all would see later. One argued that a thriller was getting better reviews online. You didn’t care too much about what you guys would go see. You reach across the table and break off a piece of the soft pretzel you purchased.

A warm feeling of comfort settles over you as you watch your friends chatter away with each other. Life had gotten so busy for all of you that you rarely spent time together anymore. As the argument over movies gets more heated, you decide it’s time to intervene before they claw at each other’s throats. Parting your lips to speak, a deep masculine voice speaks up and causes your friends to go silent.

“You guys are trying to go see Scream?” He asks. His lips raise into a smile and he shows off a pair of teeth that are white enough to make even a dentist envious. His cheeks dip slightly and two dimples make their appearance. He was undeniably handsome with slightly ruffled hair and loose curls. He had an accent when he spoke, too. You weren’t sure where it was from— it wasn’t British but it didn’t seem American, either.

“Yeah… What about it?” Your friend, Sana, speaks up. There’s a slight smile forming on her face as she looks over him. You almost chuckle at how she isn’t able to hide her attraction. Part of you can’t blame her. He looks like he could’ve been sculpted out of marble. His smile widens a bit at her sharp response. Your head tilts slightly as you watch him formulate a response.

“Me and a few of my mates,” He says, gesturing to two other men sitting in another booth. One wears a black tank top while the other is basically drowning in his hoodie. “We were plannin’ on seeing that movie too, y’know? Thought you guys might want to see it with us.”

You glance over to your friends and raise your eyebrows. You weren’t completely opposed to going out with them… This man— who you still didn’t know the name of, oddly enough— seemed nice enough. You lean in closer to your friends to whisper between each other.

“He’s cute.” You mutter, letting your eyes flicker over his sturdy frame for a second too long. He spots your gaze easily and gives you a small wave.

“Please, don’t start right now…” Soyeon says. Out of the quirky characters that made up your friend group, Soyeon seemed to be the most level headed on. She was headstrong and made the better decisions of the group. Still, most people didn’t take her advice.

“We should go.” Sana blurts out, “Him and his friends are cute. And, the movie theater is a public place. They can’t axe murder us there, right? We could use some fun…”

After a few moments of hesitation, Soyeon nods her head. The three of you pull back and look back at the man in front of your table.

“What’s your name?” Soyeon asks. Her tone doesn’t allow him any chance to avoid the question.

“Just call me Chris, yeah?”

︶︶︶︶

The movie theater is almost dead silent as the audience waits for the unexpected twist. Unfortunately, the movie wasn’t as good as the reviews made it seem. While it did have a few comedic moments, the plot was rather predictable and the same as any other slasher movie. Your fingers drum on the side of your leather recliner and your eyes are glued to the screen. You know if you look away, you’ll make a fool of yourself. After a minor argument with Sana, you managed to claim the seat next to Chris. She and Soyeon sat next to his friends, who were decent guys in their own right. 

You can’t help but steal a glance at him. He seems to be focused on the movie. Your nails dig into the seat before turning back to the large screen in front of you. Just as you were about to forget about the ungodly handsome man beside you, he leans in to whisper to you.

“Are you nervous?” He mutters. His warm breath fans over your ear and you swear you feel goosebumps form over your skin. You take a moment to mentally prepare yourself to look at him.

“No,” You lie. You were nervous, just not because of the film. You were nervous because you were already ridiculously obsessed with a guy you know damn near nothing about. Your mind ridicules you for being so careless with these things but Lord knows you could never stop wearing your heart on your sleeve. “Just… Bored, I guess. This movie is kinda shitty.”

He snickers at your statement and that simple sound sends butterflies whirling around inside your stomach. A small grin forms without your control.

“Shitty, yeah? Well, I’d have to agree with that.”

“Mh…” You hum. “Uh, hey… Where are you from?”

He lets out a faint hum in acknowledgement of your question before actually responding. “Australia. Why?”

“You just have an accent. I couldn’t figure out where it was from.”

“Yeah, I mean, I get that a lot. Have you ever been to Australia?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“I could take you, y’know.”

You look over to him and meet his eyes. Something in you tells you he is being dead serious and you furrow your brows.

“Why would you do that? We just met, you don’t know me.”

“Yeah, well…” He murmurs, glancing back towards the screen. The main character is trying to find a hiding place but clumsily trips over a loose extension cord. There’s a few quiet groans emitted from the audience. Chris turns back to you.

“Maybe I want to get to know you.”

The bitter taste of cheap alcohol lingers in your mouth and forces you to lick your lips. Your mouth felt so damn dry, it was insane. You pull your knees up to your chest while shifting slightly over the leather seats of Chris’s car. You weren’t sure when you left the party. Part of you could still hear the music ringing in your ears so mauve you were just parked outside? All you really remember was your friends telling you not to leave.

“Girl, we just got here!” Sana protested. Soyeon stood beside her with crossed arms and a grimace.

“Are you seriously leaving us for a man…?” Soyeon muttered. She sounded like a mother. One who was most certainly disappointed in the choices her too drunk daughter was making. You rolled your eyes.

“We’ll only be gone for, like, five minutes… We’ll come back before the party ends, alright?”

The words were pretty disingenuous. You weren’t sure when you and Chris would come back and, frankly, you didn’t care. He could keep you all night if he really wanted to. You are pulled back to your reality when you feel soft tugging on a strand of your hair. Chris is sitting beside you in the backseat, mindlessly fidgeting with the locks of hair. You brush his hand away and stare at him slightly. The corners of his eyes were tinged with red, but he held a big gummy smile on his face.

You poke your finger inside his dimple and chuckle slightly. “What are you smiling for? We’re just sitting here…”

“Well,” He murmurs, “You’re pretty and I’ve got you in my car. I think that’s a reason to smile.”

“And, why exactly are we in the car…?” You question. Your hand moves down to caress the curve between his neck and shoulder. He leans faintly into the touch and you feel his hand begin to roam over your back. His palms were soft and warm despite the air being on in the car.

“Why don’t you tell me why?” 

The both of you are quiet for a second. The alcohol flowing through you has you feeling a bit bold— more bold than you probably should. You snake your hand into his dark brown locks and tug on the curls. He lets out a faint grunt, one that you probably wouldn’t have noticed if it were anyone but him. It’s like all of your senses are on high alert around him. You don’t want to miss a single detail about him. You pull his head down a bit so you can meet his lips in a drunken kiss. It’s rough at first, trying to guide his head, but you both manage. His lips are soft and the faint taste of bubblegum and beer linger on his tongue. His fingers dig into the soft skin of your hip as he leans in closer, absorbing the heat you emit.

“Damn,” Chris mutters. His words only add fuel to the fire inside your gut and don’t let him go— not until you both are breathless and weak.

You pant lightly while pushing back some of your hair. Looking up at Chris sends a slight shock through your body. How could one kiss leave you feeling electrified?

“Do you wanna head back now…?” You ask quietly. The whirl of the air conditioning in his car fills the quiet between your words.

“Nah, I think we can stay here…”

︶︶︶︶

Six months was a hell of a long time. You weren’t sure the last time you committed to something for that long, but you managed to commit to Chris. Unsurprisingly, many people doubted that you would last. Well, basically everyone did. Your friends always told you to take things slow and now to rush things because that’s how you get your heartbroken. It’s safe to say you didn’t listen because after two months of dating, you had already met his parents. Now, on the six month anniversary, you were about to make the biggest commitment of your life.

“A tattoo!?” Your friends say so loud, it makes a few people standing nearby uncomfortable.

“It’s not like it’s going to be his face or anything…” You murmur, stirring around your coffee with a wooden stirrer. “It’s a cute thing, stop acting like I’m fucking crazy.”

Soyeon scoffs and rolls her eyes. “You sure as hell are if you are getting a tattoo with this guy. It hasn’t even been a year! You always rush these things and—”

“You’re going to be looking for tattoo removal places in three months, y'know. Your relationships never last…” Sana says.

You groan heavily. “You guys always do this. I’m happy with Chris, alright? Stop meddling, we are fine… Maybe for once, you guys could be supportive?”

Sana and Soyeon share a concerned glance before Soyeon speaks up. “You know, the last time we did that, we had to bail you out of jail.”

“That guy was an asshole! Chris is different…”

“Maybe,” Sana says. “But, you are also… Reckless, when it comes to break ups.”

You bite your bottom lip slightly. They were being ridiculous, they always were. You never did anything that was unjustified— at least, in your eyes they weren’t unjustified. Maybe you did have a problem. Everyone else did. You raise your coffee mug to your mouth and continue your outing in uncomfortable silence.

Maybe you were too reckless.

The bright light from your phone screen illuminates your face as you scroll on Instagram. Okay, scrolling is a slight understatement. You were stalking. A bad habit, you know, but it was necessary.

You shift under your blanket as you scroll through your boyfriend’s following list. Your eye twitches whenever you see him following another girl, but you try to ward off that feeling. Eventually, you decide it’s time to give up. You didn’t have any reason to be worried, after all. You power down your phone and begin to focus back on the movie you had turned on. It was a Scream sequel, and it was just as bad as the original. While you reach for your bowl of chips, your phone vibrates with a message from an unfamiliar account. You stare at your phone for a while before picking up the device and reading over the message.

"hey, ik u dont know me, but ik chris and like hes been flirting with this girl all night and ik u two r dating, so i thought u should know"

You chuckle slightly at the message, not completely believing it at first. This was just some random person trying to ruin your day. You begin to type out a response to give them a piece of your mind when another message pops up. A series of photos, all of them depicting Chris being comfortable with a pretty girl in a green dress. Too comfortable, you think.

Your eyes scan over the photos again and again. It looks like Chris, but maybe it’s photoshop. Maybe it’s AI. Maybe you are just being paranoid. But, you remember seeing him leave in that jacket earlier. And he’s wearing the same watch he always does. Your lungs hitch when you see the final detail— a dark butterfly tattoo on his wrist. One that matches the butterfly on your ankle. It seems like the world around you quiets and disappears, leaving only you and the images. After that, all hell breaks loose.

You barely have time to think when you open your contacts and press the dial. You call his phone again and again to no response. That’s when you open your messages.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

R u joking me rn? Ur fucking CHEATING on me??

U have to be insane

This is crazy

UR CRAZY

Do u want me to die?? Is this how u treat me??

Answer ur damn phone Chris

Miserable fucking bastard

Chris <3: What the hell are you talking about?

Answer my damn calls

Where are u right now??

Ill find u rn

Im going to kill u

In the middle of your next spew of texts and violent threats, your phone rings. You hardly think before pressing the answer button and immediately yelling into the speaker.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? After everything I’ve done for you—”

“First of all, you haven’t done shit. Why are you blowing up my phone?”

His voice is quick to cut you off and his tone is sharper than you’ve ever heard. He’s pissed off, probably just as much as you are. Your grip on the phone tightens.

“Why am I blowing up your phone…? Are you serious? You’re out all damn night, feeling up other girls, and I should just stay quiet? What, did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

“I’m not with other girls? I told you I was going to Changbin’s party. Stop acting fucking crazy.” He retorts.

“Crazy?” You repeat. Something about the word sends waves of heat running through your body. You push back the blankets and sit up. “You think I’m crazy? I’ll show you fucking crazy. Don’t call me again.”

There’s a faint scoff on the other line. The sound of house music can be heard muffled in the background. “Yeah, wasn’t planning on it.”

︶︶︶︶

You weren’t ready to accept that your friends were right. You fell in love too fast and ended up getting burned. The last few days have been spent hiding away in your apartment, trying not to rip your own hair out. Part of your heart yearned to crawl back to him, like a dog looking for water in Arizona heat. Another part of your heart wanted to watch him suffer the same way you were. You still watched his stories on a burner account. Seeing him still go to parties, still visiting friends made you outraged. You were supposed to be the best thing that happened to him—  He got a tattoo for you, after all. You were supposed to mean something to him.

The familiar taste of hard liquor helps you manage the stress, though. As unhealthy of a habit it was, it worked surprisingly well to help you forget. Well, you could never forget. You could never forget the lingering kisses and longing touches that set your skin on fire, but you could numb the pain of missing it.

You fidget with the empty, your mind blurred with heavy thoughts. You couldn’t understand the strange feeling of grief in your heart. How could you miss someone so badly when they only lived a few blocks away? At the thought, an idea pops into your head.

You slowly move from the couch and towards the storage closet in the hall. It was just as messy as your life was, but that wasn’t the point. You search deep into the back until you find exactly what you were looking for. Your old softball bat.

The walk to his house felt enthralling. Your entire body buzzed from head to toe with adrenaline and it seemed like for once, you were able to forget all about how upset you were. You could hardly care about the time of day, or night for this matter. Your feet drag along the concrete as you turn the block and spot the house he shared with a few buddies. Parked just outside the garage was Chris’s car. The same one that you shared your first kiss in. That was where you bawled your eyes out or indulged yourself in all his sweetness. The sight of it brought back a disgusting amount of memories. Memories you were ready to destroy.

Approaching the vehicle, you glance up towards the house. All the lights were off, so you assume everyone must be asleep. You let out a shaky breath and wind your arm back before swinging full force. The way the steel warps from the hit is almost mesmerizing. You wind up again and take another hit. This one sets off the blaring car alarm. You could care less if someone wakes up from it. You move to the side and take another hit, knocking out the passenger window. 

“What the fuck are you doing!?”

You are pulled from your stupor at the sound of someone yelling at you. Not someone, Chris. You could tell before turning around and even then, the sight of him looking at you from his open window brought a drunken smile to your face. His brows were so furrowed that they basically became one. He still manages to ignite such a fuzzy feeling inside of you no matter how much you convince yourself you hate his guts.

“Get the hell away from my car!” He shouts out, his hands gripping the windowsill. A few of the neighbors have begun to peer their heads out their doors or look through the blinds. You could care less about their eyes watching you. All you could focus on was Chris.

“I told you I would show you crazy, didn’t I!” You reply to him, holding out the bat for him to see. “This is your last time calling me crazy!”

Chris stares at you for a moment, completely bewildered. He grunts before slamming the window shut. You can only assume he’s coming down to stop you so you get your arm ready for one last hit. You raise your bat before slamming it down on the windshield. The glass cracks around the spot of impact and just as the front door opens, you take off running.

In a split second, you are returned back to that club. And he’s in front of you again, staring at you like you are nothing but garbage from his past. Your mouth is suddenly dry and it feels like no amount of alcohol will help it. You finally break eye contact and look down at the ground. In your peripheral, you noticed his bare wrist. He must have rolled his sleeves up. Despite that, something sticks out to you.

“You kept the tattoo…?” You murmur, looking back up at him. His face relaxes slightly and it was obvious he wasn’t expecting that question from you.

“Reminds me not to make mistakes. Like you.” He says, his tone flat.

“Geez, you’re still a dick…”

“You broke my fucking car windows.”

“I wouldn’t have to do that if you didn’t cheat on me.” You say. His lips twitch slightly like he wants to say something. He doesn’t. The air settling around the two of you is heavy.

“Something tells me you aren’t ready to let go.” He says as if it were fact.

“Really?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, really.”

You bite down on your bottom lip. Something in you didn’t completely trust him. You know you shouldn’t. But, you know he’s right. Even months later, you weren’t ready to let go. You weren’t ready to let go of the memories and the dreams. You weren’t ready to let go of the man who gave you the best few months of your life.

“You ruined my life.” You say.

“You ruined mines, too. Let’s call it even.”

“... So I can call you again?”

Chris tilts his head at your question. After a moment, though, a sly smirk forms and you catch a glimpse of those beautiful dimples.

“Yeah, you can call. Only if you lay off the alcohol.”

[fameandfiction]

IMAGINE PART I: “Respectfully Down Bad” — Reneé Rapp x Reader

— Reneé Being Effortlessly Hot and Unimpressed by It.

It was a casual thing. A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it motion. A throwaway moment in the middle of an otherwise unremarkable Thursday morning in Reneé Rapp’s house. She was standing in front of the fridge in one of her many tragic tank tops, having a personal war with a block of vegan cheese.

And then it happened.

Right there—in the wild—she reached under the strap of her tank top, slipped two fingers between the fabric and her chest, and readjusted her bra with one smooth, single-handed motion.

Back arched.

Hip popped.

No warning.

Your brain short-circuited.

You were sitting on her counter, minding your gay little business, sipping cold coffee and thinking about absolutely nothing when your body was electrically hit with a physical reaction so visceral you almost dropped your phone.

You couldn’t even speak.

You just blinked and stared like a man in a medieval painting discovering lust for the first time.

So you did what any emotionally repressed GenZ with Wi-Fi would do.

You tweeted.

[@/you] MY GIRLFRIEND JUST DID THE HOTTEST THING EVER!!! HOW CAN I CONTROL MYSELF???

You slammed your phone down like it was on fire and immediately chugged the rest of your iced coffee like it could extinguish the lesbian meltdown brewing in your bloodstream.

You didn't expect a reply.

You especially didn’t expect a reply from her.

[@/reneerapp, reply] I literally just readjusted my bra????

The silence in her kitchen after that was deafening.

You looked down at the notification like it personally attacked you. Which, in a way, it had.

You were still sitting there. On her counter. In her hoodie. Watching her chew dried mango like this was any other normal moment in your normal life. And meanwhile, the timeline was dragging you.

“why do i feel like she tweeted this while making direct eye contact with her.” “no bc the gay urge to lose your mind over the most mundane hot girl behavior is SO real.” “she’s just like me fr.” “reneé is wearing one of her 3 bras today??” “screaming because this is me watching a girl open a can of seltzer.” “how do i get a gf who thinks my bra-adjustment is tweet-worthy 😩”

“I can’t believe you ratio’d me in my own thirst tweet,” you mutter, phone face-down.

Reneé raises an eyebrow and tosses a mango slice at you. It hits your shoulder.

“You tweeted like you needed medical intervention. I was doing a basic adjustment. Like... for comfort.”

“It wasn’t basic, Rapp.”

“You looked like you were about to explode.”

“Because you did it with technique.”

She snorts. Walks over. Leans against the counter between your legs.

“You’re obsessed with me.”

“It’s so unfair that you know that.”

“You tweeted it, babe.”

“That was private.”

“It had 12K likes in five minutes.”

You slide your phone off the counter with a dramatic sigh.

“Can you delete your tweet?”

“Nope.”

“Can I delete your tweet?”

“I’ll pin it.”

“Reneé!”

“Should I respond again? Like ‘she moaned when I opened the dishwasher’ or something?”

You grab her by the hips.

“Do not turn my downfall into a thread.”

“Too late. Caption’s already in the drafts.”

“I hate you.”

“Liar.”

She leans down until her forehead presses to yours. There’s a smirk on her mouth and syrup on her breath.

“You love me so bad you can’t even watch me fix my bra.”

You let out a strangled sound.

“I’m taking your phone away.”

“No you're not.”

“I will deadbolt the Wi-Fi.”

“Then how will you tweet your next horny crisis? Hm?”

You glare.

She kisses your cheek.

Twenty minutes later, you’re scrolling Twitter again while she makes toast.

The top tweet on your feed?

A screenshot of the thread.

Captioned:

“The femdom-submissive energy in these tweets is outrageous. Like girl. blink twice if you’re okay.”

You show it to Reneé.

She laughs so hard she chokes on her jam.

That night, she’s laying on top of you like a weighted blanket, phone in one hand, a smug grin on her face.

“Should we just tweet ‘we’re dating btw’ and see what happens?”

You freeze.

“...are we?”

She shrugs. “Maybe.”

“You didn’t even like my tweet.”

“It scared me. You were too down bad.”

“I WAS SITTING NEXT TO YOU!”

“And still couldn’t contain yourself.”

You press your hand to your face. “I want to disappear.”

She hums, pressing a kiss under your jaw.

“You’d miss me too much.”

You pause.

Then whisper:

“Still doesn’t mean I was wrong.”

She smiles into your neck.

“Didn’t say you were.”

[black-and-yellow]

As you wish. Here is the 16th chapter under the cut(draft so it's subject to change) for your viewing pleasure.

Bone apple teeth.

Ch.16

Cass drew her coat tighter around her shoulders and kicked at the thick central leg of the pedestal table in front of her.

She gritted her teeth and impatiently checked the time again. Mal was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago.

She glanced around the establishment. A ramshackle takeaway joint a few streets away from the hotel. It had an overwhelming stench of grease, but whoever was back in the kitchen could whip up a mean chow mein.

Cass shrank back into her seat in the corner. There was nobody else here and she’d finished eating a while ago. She was getting a little worried that she’d be asked to leave before her company even arrived.

She was about to start picking at the remnants of her meal in the cardboard takeout box on the table when the bell at the door chimed and the tall, lanky figure of a man ducked inside.

His hair was scruffy, black streaked with a few stray greys, and a respirator mask covered the lower half of his face. The various belts and drapes of his long coat trailed behind him as he made a beeline over to the only occupied table in the place.

Cass’ heartbeat quickened. The situation felt a little more real when he was stood right before her. He looked down at her, one eye bright green, the other clouded over with a cataract.

“Cassiopeia?”

“Um. Yeah.”

The man’s face brightened. At least, by what Cass could see of it, and he held out a bony hand.

“Mallory Doyle. Sorry I’m late... had to grab some juice... Brought you some, too,” he said as they shook hands, and then deposited two cans of orange juice on the table with a heavy thud. He swept down onto the chair opposite Cass and pulled his mask down from his face. “Good to meet you in person. Sorry it’s not under better circumstances.”

“It’s okay. Thanks for agreeing to all this, by the way.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Mallory waved a hand as he dug an old laptop out of his bag, “To tell you the truth, I don’t think I could pass up the offer to work on some android systems. That’s a once-in-a-lifetime type deal, y’know?”

Cass scoffed quietly and couldn’t help but smile.

“Not back in my town, it’s not,” she told him, and held up four fingers, “I know four androids back home.”

Mallory’s eyebrows raised in astonishment as he flipped open his laptop, which looked as if it had seen much better days.

“Four, you said?”

“Leo, Felix, Henry, and Mason of course.”

“Well, I… I’m at a loss for words, Cassiopeia.”

“You can call me Cass. Everyone else does,” Cass told him. Then the reason she was here re-entered her mind and she quickly dug around in her pocket for the drive Felix had given her and placed it gently on the table.

Mallory’s eyes flicked to the drive, up to Cass, and then back again.

“Is that it? The data?”

“Yeah.” Cass cleared her throat. It pained her a little to hand it over, to watch him pick it up, and cling onto the hope that it was the right thing to do.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Mallory seemed to have picked up on the tension she was feeling, “She’s in good hands.” He held his hands up as if to prove it and gave her little grin as he plugged the drive into his laptop.

That was what doctors always said, Cass remembered. What doctors said when things were looking grim, and they knew they couldn’t make any promises. She fidgeted in her seat, the suspense killing her slowly, keenly watching Mallory’s expression from the corner of her eye.

“Here we go…” he said as everything loaded up, then she watched his eyes grow wider, flickering around the screen like a cat watching a laser pointer. He coughed once in surprise, which then cascaded into a series of wheezing chokes until he pulled his mask back up over his mouth and steadied his breathing, valves clicking open and shut.

“Sorry, this is…” he shook his head and rasped out a short laugh, “I’ve seen some unconventional code in my time, but this…”

Cass’ face fell.

“Is it bad? Is it really bad?”

“No, no, it’s… I mean it is, but no, I can work with this.” Mallory hunched over to take a closer look at the screen, brow furrowed in concentration as he attempted to decipher how the language itself even functioned.

Cass watched and chewed her lip. Judging by the look on his face, this wasn’t a good start.

“Man…” she thought to herself, turning away, “What made me think this would work..?”

Seeming to pick up on her agitation, Mallory’s gaze flicked up from the screen to her face, and back down again.

“Tell me about your android friends.”

Cass looked up again, a little surprised at Mallory’s sincere curiosity. It hadn’t really occurred to her before that living with androids wasn’t so common amongst the general population.

“Well… There’s Felix, he’s very shy. He tends to get pushed around by people a lot since he’s so reserved, but my friend Orion has been helping him come out of his shell a bit. He’s really sweet once you get to know him. Then there’s Leo…” a smile crept back onto Cass’ face, “Complete hopeless romantic. Always dressed like he’s attending some fancy-schmancy event. He’s a singer at the pub in town, you should hear him. Great cook, too, he hosted dinner for all of us the other night as a welcome to Henry. I’ve only just met Henry, but he’s great, even though he works for my brother, and he’s been a real help with all this… stuff. And Mason…” It occurred to her that in that tiny box in front of her was everything that made Mason who she was, her entire self all stripped down to bare bones. DNA, Mallory had likened it to. She lightly nudged the hard drive on the table, “That’s Mason.”

Mallory sat back in his chair and regarded her for a minute, hands still hovering over his keyboard, and raised an eyebrow.

“Well, you’ve pretty much met her already, right?” Cass clarified, “Looking through all that.”

“Don’t do her such a disservice, Cass,” Mallory told her, returning to his work, “I might know the basic components that make up Mason’s character, but I haven’t met her, I don’t know what she’s really like. Androids are more than the sum of their parts, just like us.”

Cass cracked a smile. Mallory’s evident respect for androids put her mind at rest a little, knowing Mason – or, her code – was in safe hands.

“She likes espressos,” Cass said at last. “And learning things, and fixing stuff. And she saved my life when I was a kid. She’s sort of been my guardian ever since. Like a kind of rock.”

Cass hardly remembered the fire at this point. She had only the vaguest recollection of being pulled to safety, standing out on the drive at the front of the house while Mason slipped back into the furnace devouring it to find her father. She returned alone, of course, with the left half of her face dripping off like cake batter. The years surrounding the event all seemed like a fuzzy, far-off bad dream. But she knew Mason was there through all of it.

“She must care about you a lot.”

“That’s not what my brother would say.”

“Your brother…” Mallory mused, “You mentioned him before. What’s he like?”

Cass gave a groan and grabbed her drink from the table, fiddling with the tab on the can in her hands, shaking her head.

“I can’t stand him,” she admitted, “This whole thing is his fault.”

Mallory gave her a look like he wanted her to continue, so she did.

“I only met him a few days ago. He went to boarding school when I was a baby, so I don’t remember anything about him from when we were kids. I was so excited when I found out he was coming to visit. I did everything I could to welcome him, I tried so hard to be a good sister, but…” She shrugged, “He’s always hated Mason, I don’t know why. Well, I do know why, sort of, but I don’t really get it. Anyway, he… he’s the one who made this virus.”

She decided against mentioning Atlas’ plans for ‘Project Cirrus’. Best to focus on one world-shattering event at a time.

For a minute the only sound was the muffled sizzling noise of the kitchen behind them and the hum of neon lights around the ceiling. Outside, a quiet back street, travelled only by those local to the area, who knew where they were going, lined with shuttered shops and the occasional apartment building. A pocket of relative silence in the clamouring city. Homely, even.

“I’m sorry.” Mallory shook his head in a mournful sort of manner, “A lot of androids are quite unlike like your friends back home. They’re utilitarian, specifically programmed with a distinct lack of personality. A professional detachment, you might say. But your father made something special.”

“I know.”

“Cass…” He addressed her soberly, with a sudden seriousness to his demeanour, and he reached over to place a bony hand on her shoulder. “We’re gonna get her back.”

(bonus Cass doodles for fun)

Would anyone enjoy an excerpt from my (original) book I've been working on. Just for funsies. Just for sillies perhaps. If you will.

[kr-yoongi]

Colin Morgan in season 1 of Humans I want you.

(Timelapse below)

[superbat-lmao]

Jason Todd never gets picked up by social services when Catherine dies. Instead, the alley protects its own.

Jason had spent most of his daytime hours looking after his neighbors kids. He was basically family. They paid him in meals and a shared bed when Willis would kick him out sometimes.

When people hear his Mom died, he couch surfs amongst families with small children that need supervision while their parents are at work. He manages well enough, and he rotates what families he stays with so CPS never catches wind. He’s the alley’s secret amongst working immigrant families.

It also means he knows how to deal with kids.

So when he watches one tumble off a fire escape on the roof opposite where he’s been smoking, he knows he has to check it out. Make sure the kid’s alright.

When he finally gets a good look at him, both his camera and leg are busted.

More convoluted take below the cut!

Tim, who broke his leg actually, is too little to be taking care of himself or get himself home. He needs to be looked after.

He gets the kid to Leslie, lies and says he’s watching him over the weekend and the kids parents will be back Monday, and gets the kid in a cab before figuring out where he lives.

Tim isn’t super aware of what’s going on around him since he was given something for the pain, but he knows there’s someone asking him a lot of questions. When he is more awake, the following morning after waking up on his living room couch, he realizes there’s a kid watching him.

Tim feels like hell and while he appreciates Jason taking him home, he can handle himself.

Jason snorts at him, asks if he’s ever had a broken leg or knows how to use crutches, and what he wants for breakfast.

It takes two days before Tim is willing to admit his parents won’t be home for a few months. They’re lucky school’s out or someone would have noticed Tim’s absence.

Jason becomes Tim’s babysitter, or as much of one as he can be without Tim’s parents finding out. Jason takes care of him the whole time his leg is healing. Tim teaches him to play videogames and Jason reads to him.

When Tim’s finally healed, he wants to go back out at night to chase after Batman. Jason gives him an unimpressed look, but asks if the kid wants to tag along to his babysitting gigs in the alley. He misses some of the little twerps and thinks there’s a few Tim would like.

Tim and Jason become brothers early, going from apartment to apartment looking after other people’s kids. Jason gets someone who follows him around, gives him shit, and is almost as good as wikipedia in a pinch. Tim gets someone who gives a shit about him, a social life full of people who aren’t snotty high society brats, and Jason’s special brand of aggressive caring.

What the two don’t know is that Two Face has been looking for Jason’s dad. No one had been able to rat him out when he was staying with Tim because no one knew where he was.

It takes a while, but when the wrong people figure out where Jason is, it isn’t pretty.

They interrupt him while sitting an overnighter. There’s a loud knock at the door and when Jason checks the peephole, it’s two of his Dad’s old buddies. Jason rounds up the kids, yells “just a minute!”, gives Tim a kitchen knife and tells him to sit tight and lock themselves in one of the bedrooms. Tim doesn’t hear anything after the front door opening and an initial shout. He waits 15 minutes before he’s sure the coast is clear. Then, he rounds the kids up, puts them to bed like Jason does, and heads up to the roof.

He knows Batman’s patrol routes well enough to find him and try to flag him down. Who he actually gets is Robin, who he has to explain to that Two Face took his brother. When Robin finally listens and takes the kid seriously, he radios Batman. Batman, who recognizes the neighbor kid and knows he doesn’t have a brother. By this point Tim is almost in tears of frustration trying to explain that Jason Todd is his brother but Batman also recognizes the missing kid from one of his reports and it’s enough of a corroboration that Tim gets put in the back of the Batmobile while they go to rescue Jason.

He doesn’t get to see any of the fighting and he doesn’t leave the car, but when Robin is half carrying Jason out of the building, Tim leaps out of the car to hug his brother. Jason’s got a few bruised ribs and his face is beat to hell, but it’s all something Leslie can fix.

What Leslie can’t fix is the legal fact that Jason is a missing kid, not Tim’s biological brother. Batman sits with the two, explaining how everything is going to work once they take them to the police.

Three things happen at once:

1. Jason accuses Batman of dropping kids off with traffickers. It’s why he didn’t let CPS pick him up when his Mom died.

2. Robin asks if the two will get to stay together, if they can ask Gordon not to separate them.

3. Tim says they will be doing no such thing, Mr. Wayne.

[crystallizsch]

BRAIDS BRAIDS BRAIDS BRAI (mayu by @anbaisai || fayrouz by @fell-fell) :3c

i imagine yuusha gave the girls both their braids

[sysig]

Maybe something with Mousey being jealous of Hunter and Smoker for one reason or another? hehe

Day 7 - There might be a reason for that

Bonus:

[joogios]

I won’t even defend this one with a cool caption guys.

[sukugo]

everytime sukugo gets called a crack ship i suffer +10 damage

[emily-mooon]

Jonathan in my Itakiss AU:

[secondpersonpoetry]

you’ve probably already read it before, but the poem Party by Kim Addonizio really got me tonight. first thought was “oh man. yeah” and then my second thought was “how can i make this about my hockey guys somehow………..”anyway! have a good one! 

oh. oh.

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