#y’know of all these the stranger was by far the hardest

[catwingsthespatula]

Collective Nouns for TMA Avatars

(Note: these are all actual collective nouns for a type of animal, which in each case is indicated in parentheses. Many types of animal have more than one accepted collective noun; I have followed this convention to a point, but limited myself to two collective nouns for a group of avatars of any given Entity.)

Buried: an earth (foxes) or a bury (rabbits)

Corruption: a plague (locusts)

Dark: a shadow (jaguars) or an eclipse (moths)

Desolation: a destruction (wild cats) or a scourge (mosquitoes)

End: a murder (crows)

Eye: a gaze (raccoons) or an intrusion (cockroaches)

Flesh: a mess (iguanas) or a mutation (thrush)

Hunt: an ambush (tigers)

Lonely: a singular (boars), although Lukas family funerals are probably about the only time you’ll need this one

Slaughter: a pandemonium (parrots)

Spiral: a confusion (wildebeest) or an implausibility (gnus)

Stranger: a parade (elephants) or a parcel (penguins)

Vast: a descent (woodpeckers)

Web: a covert (coots) or a skein (geese in flight)

[bernraccnt]

little red and the wolf (wolf x afab! reader)

dm requested:  HI!! can i request a NSFW/smut mr. Wolf x fem reader if thats ok and thanks!! 😁😁

i literally had the hardest time writing this but I DID IT

before u read: smut (+18), switch wolf and switch reader, reader and wolf are brat coded i don’t make the rules, still using they/them 4 reader, 2nd person pov, i really enjoy this reader’s characterization if you can’t tell, i also tried not to take it super seriously bc im not a big fan of serious sexy times, i suck at describing things my b

you once heard someone say that nightclubs bring out the most primal instincts in people. and sitting here, at the bar and being blinded by the lighting in the dark, crowded space, you felt inclined to agree with that.

when you were dragged out to the club by an old friend of yours, you wanted nothing more than to drink yourself into a coma and force them to drag your drunk ass home. hell, you were planning on throwing up on their shoes just to make them reconsider ever asking you to do this again.

but, when your eyes trailed along the partygoers, sweat and musk heavy on your nose, and you saw a slim figure already staring back at you, you decided to stop thinking about your future victim and take in how fucking attractive this man was.

even in the shadows of drunk people and a shitty remix of lady gaga’s telephone and shakira’s hips don’t lie blurring your senses, you could tell this guy was a wolf. long grey snout, golden eyes, and a row of teeth-- oh my fucking god, you were nearly salivating over those teeth.

you darted your eyes away before you could be considered a creeper, frantically bringing your glass of whatever bitter drink your friend forced you to order to your lips and chugging. god damn, either you are really thirsty or that man is really fucking hot.

you buried your head into your arms, trying to hold yourself together. even with liquid courage, you could never build up the balls to go over there and lay it thick on him. hell, even if your life depended on it, you’d probably still coward out.

“your outfit’s really nice.” the four words were spoken from a deep voice, one you didn’t recognize. picking your head up, you turned to your right and blanched upon seeing the wolf man leaning against the bar, now a foot away from you. he gave you an almost knowing smirk, “i’m digging the red.”

oh, of course you’re wearing red and talking to a wolf. next thing you know, you’re gonna watch him swallow your grandma. “eh, just threw on the first thing i saw.” you played off, swirling your drink and reeling back your panic. “though, it’s quite ironic that you’re talking to someone in red, ain’t it?”

he seemed to like this connection, let out a chuckle that you found attractive as well. god damn it, why couldn’t he have an ugly laugh? “what can i say? i seem to like the trouble that comes with the color.” fuck, why was that attractive? or were you just drunk? “my name’s wolf. it’s my first time comin’ here and honestly this place is a little too rowdy for me, but if you’re a regular, i feel like i’d reconsider.”

“shit, you think i come here regularly?” you guffawed in his face, smiling far wider than was probably socially acceptable for strangers. you then told him your name, “my friend dragged me here tonight, i don’t go clubbing.”

he mirrored your grin, showcasing a grin full of sharp teeth as he slid into the barstool next to you. “more of a homebody, eh? yeah, i get it.” wow, this guy was speaking your language. “i used to not go out much either. not many people are a big fan of me, y’know how it is.”

the dangerous glint in his eyes made you flustered, but also nagged at the back of your brain. somehow, you knew this guy from somewhere. the mannerisms, the ego, all of it was familiar to your tipsy brain.

but, you chose not to address it, only kept smiling. “that’s surprising! you seem pretty alright to me.” you took another sip of your drink. “what brings you here? i hope you’re not a poor soul like me.”

“eh, wanted to see what all the hype was.” he shrugged, resting both arms on the bar. he waved over the bartender and ordered some fancy drink, something you didn’t care for. “my friends would never drag me anywhere, i do all the dragging.”

“ah, a leader type.” you hummed before you could even stop yourself. “hot.” fuck, why do you say the things you do?

wolf took it in stride, in fact, he even seemed to be elated in your blatant attraction. “glad you think so. you’re not too bad yourself.” he leaned in, as if he was about to tell you a secret. “though, i’d prefer seeing the full masterpiece you are, without clothes that is.”

if this was any piece of shit in this club, you would’ve socked the living hell out of them. but wolf wasn’t exactly ordinary in your standards, so instead, you felt your stomach clench in excitement and had to school your expression.

“we’ll see where the night goes, wolfy.” you teased with a playful wink.

the next few hours of your night was spent sitting right on your spot on that barstool and laughing it up with your newest stranger turned acquaintance. you were so entranced by the charming wolf that when your friend came over and said they wanted to go home, you did a double take.

“ay yo? what time is it?” you fumbled for your phone, eyes widening when it showed you it was nearly four in the morning. “oh shit, we gotta go get an uber.” you grunted under your breath, turning to wolf with an apologetic smile. “hey, man, i’m sorry to cut this short but this dumbass behind me can’t even walk straight.”

“fuck you.” your friend muttered, slurring and swaying as they stood to your left.

wolf let out a hearty laugh, waving you both off. “it’s alright, i’m just sad it couldn’t have been longer.” you physically perked up when he pulled out his phone and tapped on the contacts app, creating a new one before your eyes. “is it alright if i get your number?”

“fuck YES it is.” your mouth spoke before your mind could come up with an actually alright response to his question and you snatched up that phone like it was the last piece of candy on halloween. wolf had trouble hiding his snickers as you frantically typed out your number, made your contact name “hottie at the club”, and took a blurry selfie with flash as your contact photo. that made you giggle so hard it hurt your stomach.

wolf watched with the widest grin as you left the bar, dragging your friend by the back of their hood. never before had he been treated so nonchalantly, so nicely, by a stranger. it was odd that you didn’t recognize him, but he chalked it up to your own drunkenness getting in the way of the fear that consumed most people.

and despite all the signs that he probably shouldn’t shoot you a text, lest you become a suspect by the m.p.d. or if you report him to the m.p.d., he did so anyways, only less than two days after your first meeting.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: hey! it’s wolf, the guy from the club on friday, i hope you were successful in throwing up on your friends shoes

while he was mulling over his decision with mild anxiety, you were sitting on your couch, rewatching your favorite movie for the day. when you saw the text, your eyes popped open, and you choked on the chips you were munching on. your fingers rapidly pressed against your phone, movie forgotten.

hottie at the club: OH FUCK I TOLD YOU ABOUT THAT???

wolf let out a loud cackle that startled the other bad guys at the kitchen table around him. if he tried hard enough, he felt like he could hear you shrieking that with a panicked expression.

you added xxx-xxx-xxxx as furry!

furry: sure did. all the way down to which alcohol you were planning on chugging to get the grossest effect

hottie at the club: i am so sorry you listened to me scheme against my friend

you let out a long groan, burying your head into the couch cushions and screaming as hard as you could. you even threw a few punches in there for good measure. god, you were such an idiot.

furry: dont be it was funny

furry: anyways i was wondering if you wanted to do something sometime soon? 

him. you wanted to do him.

furry: like a movie?

hottie at the club: sure! i don’t really like movie theaters but we could do something at one of our places if you want!!

oh fuck, wolf thought, it’s like you were made for him. he breathed a sigh of relief, as he was dreading being seen in public. he didn’t want to scare you away now, not when he’s just started getting to know you.

furry: yours might be better. my roommates are kinda nosy lol

and speaking of nosy, webs peeked over wolf’s shoulder with a huge grin. “oohhhhhh” she drawled, laughing at the glare she got from the bad guys’ leader. “who’s the ‘hottie at the club’?”

“mind your fucking business, that’s who.”

hottie at the club: how about this friday at 8?? i can pick u up if needed :)!

aw, he mentally cooed at your use of emoticon. that was kinda cute.

“oh, wolf’s gotta partner now?” and now shark had joined in peering over wolf’s shoulder, eyes wide with curiosity. “oh, is that a date?” meanwhile, webs had looked at the number listed next to the contact and was now looking up the person wolf was texting discreetly.

furry: works for me! i’ll text you my address then

furry: excuse me for a second i have some heads to bash in

wolf had sent that last message and quickly pocketed his phone before webs and shark could relay any more information to the others. “not a word--”

“WOLFY’S GOT A DATE!” shark gushed like a teenager, balling his hands against his face. “are they cute? when did you meet them? do we know them?”

“pfft, as if.” snake sneered, but wolf didn’t take it seriously. it was his way of joking. “you think wolf can reel in any person?”

“like you could, boomer.” webs retorted before wolf could. he was mildly thankful for her interjection and gave her a small smile of gratitude.

which quickly fell when webs turned the computer around and showed your citizenship file and everything else related to you, ranging from social media to past jobs.

“what-- webs!” he was utterly scandalized when he saw a glimpse of what looked to be a private twitter account, with many retweets of porn related things. “knock it off!”

“oh, and they’re freaky.” piranha was impressed, reaching forward and clicking on the tab with your twitter, scrolling through it. “lots and lots of sex stuff here, chico.”

“eugh, don’t turn the computer this way.” snake gagged, hiding the computer screen from his eyes. “i don’t wanna see this.”

“piranha! snake!”

“they seem to be a keeper.” shark took over the trackpad from piranha and clicked open your instagram, looking through the far and few photos of yourself on there. “really good looking. good job, wolf.”

“shaaark.” this one came out as a groan.

the group of four snickered at the puddle their boss was melting into. it was oddly hilarious to see the typically cool and calm wolf was dying at the sight of his friends discovering his future date.

“so, what? you hoping to fuck or...?” snake decided to ask the question of the hour, quirking an eyebrow over at his friend as he buried his face into his hands. “because, no judgement here, man.”

“shut up, for the love of god.” his deadpan tone caused a domino effect of laughter at his expense.

unfortunately, wolf didn’t stop getting teased all the way up to the actual date, where he took the car and drove it to a nicer part of town, partially to escape his friends and partially to not give away where his homebase was. he let his fingers drum against the light pole he was leaning against, waiting patiently for your “bunk ass car” (your words, not his) to make its appearance.

he was surprised to see that your car, was in fact, a bunk ass vehicle. not exactly the best condition and there were dents here and there, but he couldn’t complain. not when you had that adorably large grin from your spot in the driver’s seat.

“what’s up, wolf?” you hummed, happily bobbing to a song on the radio. wolf recognized it as something webs enjoyed listening to. “you ready for this sick ass movie date?”

he buckled himself, trying his hardest not to sniff aggressively. the car had a uniquely you smell, it made his mood brighten instantly. “depends. what’re we watching, red?”

you gave him a sideways glance. “red?”

“like the thing you were wearing when we met?” he explained, glancing over. his eyes caught onto your shoe against the gas pedal and smirked. “and apparently the same color as the crocs you own.”

to your credit, you didn’t immediately crash your car as you leaned down and frantically ripped off the red shoe wear, throwing them over your shoulder and into the backseat. “fuck you, i’m just gonna stop wearing clothes around you at this point.”

wolf’s grin turned evil. “i wouldn’t mind that.”

“of course you wouldn’t, you pervert.” you scoffed, but your grin was an exact mirror to his.

wolf turned so his upper body was fully facing you and leaned over the center console. “you can call me a pervert, but i think you’d probably enjoy it too.”

you had stopped at a red light, giving you the opportunity to reached over and tug him by his plain shirt’s collar, now inches apart. “fuck around and find out.” all the breath in wolf’s lungs escaped him as he saw the power trip you currently were taking.

shit, you were his equal in every single way. he laughed, your lips brushing against one another. “i have a feeling we’re not gonna be watching anything when we get to your place.”

the only thing that stopped you from making out with him right there was the light flashing green. you released your grip on his shirt and returned to being a safe driver. “like i said, fuck around and find out.”

when you were about five minutes from your place, wolf reached over and set his hand on your thigh. everything but that part of your body tensed up and you had to fight the urge to pull over in a random parking lot and fuck him right there.

needless to say, as soon as you walked inside your apartment, you snatched wolf by the shirt and shoved him up against the wall next to your door. he gave you an equally eager grin, grabbing the back of your head and smashing your lips against one another.

it was a clumsy kiss, teeth bumping and with way too much tongue, but neither of you really cared. your hands wrapped around his neck, entangling your fingers into the fur on the back of his head, while his own hands shoved themselves up your hoodie.

his nails lightly scraped your stomach, dull enough not to scratch you, but also sharp enough to hurt if he grabbed you too hard. he leaned back against the wall and moved his hands down to your ass, giving it a quick squeeze.

you could feel him smile into the kiss as you jumped, then shivered at this motion. “asshole.” you muttered against his mouth, still jumping when he prompted you to. his hands caught the underside of your thighs and he pulled back, panting. you both looked equally roughed up.

“where’s your bedroom?”

“furthest door down the hall.” you instantly responded, moving to press kisses against his neck. wolf wasted no time, speed walking across your messy apartment and all but kicking your door in when he reached it.

one moment, you’re mouthing at his neck, and the next, you’re flying through the air and onto the bed. you let out a loud shriek-laugh, smiling widely when wolf dove to land on top of you. you both still were smiling at one another.

once again, you guys found yourselves kissing, your crotch moving to slot against his and you grinded as hard as you could. the reaction was instant, a groan coming from his throat as his hips jerked.

he pulled back, giving you a playful glare. “hey, now.” he grunted, even though he was returning your motions with his own. you both sighed in pleasure when his dick rubbed you in just the right way, your head falling back. “fuck.” he whined.

“that’s what we’re doing.” you cheekily replied, still smiling the entire time. wolf, in retaliation, leaned down and started pressing his teeth into your neck, leaving bite marks. you sucked in a deep breath of air in response a rough bite, arching your back and gripping at the hair right underneath his ears.

“shit, you’re gonna be the death of me.” he said under his breath, pulling back far enough to start tugging your hoodie off. “take this off.” he demanded.

thankfully, you didn’t have a smart comment waiting for him, instantly sitting up and ripping off the article of clothing.

wolf’s jaw dropped when he realized that you weren’t wearing anything else underneath it, eyes zeroing in on your boobs. “you-- where’s your shirt?” he ears tilted back and he swore if he was capable of blushing, he would be neon red.

you shrugged with no explanation, tilting your head. “you were gonna see them eventually, might as well give you easier access.” you could’ve burst out laughing at how flabbergasted the poor guy was. one pair of boobs and he’s gone.

then you suddenly stopped smiling and looked at him with wide, fearful eyes. “wait, are you a virgin?”

he immediately started shaking his head frantically. “nononononono! i would’ve said something if i was.” he reassured you.

“oh.” was all you said.

and then wolf leaned forward, hands outstretched to your chest. you laughed at the mood shift and suddenly, you were back on track.

he gave an experimental squeeze and planted a kiss on your boobs before pulling back and taking off his shirt himself. he instantly was back to hovering over you and hand his fingers wrapped around the waistband of your pants and underwear. “normally, i’d take it slow, but i just wanna see you, red.”

“go for it, mr. big and bad.” you gave your consent, picking up your hips and allowing him the proper space to pull off the clothing. he gave you no time to adjust to the sudden naked state you were in, already tugging your thighs over his shoulder. his eyes zeroed in on your pussy, your slick glinting in the light of your bedside lamp.

you could’ve disintegrated when he started placing small nips and bites on your inner thigh, the pad of his thumb coming up and resting on your clit. you sucked in a hard breath as he stared at you, maw closing over the plush fat on your thigh.

he pulled back to tell you, “i can’t finger you with these,” he wiggled his fingers, more specifically motioning at his nails, “so you’re gonna have to do the hard work for me, sweetheart.”

you groaned as if he asked you to go do the dishes. “damn it, i was gonna have you do all the hard work--” you let out a choked moan, cutting yourself off as wolf pressed his finger back against your swollen clit. “alright, i’ll do it, shit--!”

you propped yourself up on your left elbow and shoved a few of your pillows under your shoulder to make it a little easier for you. lying back against them, you slowly dragged your fingers down your stomach, eyeing the way wolf’s eyes were locked onto them.

trying to hide your growing smirk, you traced the outside of your pussy with a finger, entertaining yourself with the way his eyes just wouldn’t look away. he did snap out of it when he heard you hide a snicker and glared up at you.

“sorry.” you muttered, pushing one finger inside of you and arching your back at how good it felt. “give me a sec, i’ll have it all figured out in no time.” from the way you were talking so casually, one might expect you to be doing literally any other activity.

wolf gave you a look you couldn’t quite discern. “no, go slow.” he demanded.

“what the fuck-- do you wanna fuck me or not?” you retorted, glaring as you pushed the finger in and out.

“i do, but i also wanna see this.”

“...fucking weirdo.” you grumble and flopped back, trying to move at a steady pace. wolf hummed in accomplishment, pulling one of his own hands away and using it to take off his boxers as he watched you with eager eyes.

when you pushed in a second a finger with the first was when it started feeling really good. curling them like the expert you were, you let out soft moans. wolf’s eyes took in how your hips rose to meet your fingers and how carried away you were getting as you tried to prepare yourself for him.

“yeah, just like that, baby.” he murmured, pushing your hips down and holding you to the bed. his thumb returned to your clit, with slow circles, and you let out a long whine, head falling against your pillow. “oh, you’re so pretty like this.” he beamed when you let out an embarrassed huff that melted into a groan.

“please just fuck me.” you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut from the mixture of yours and wolf’s motions. your fingers rubbed against a specific part inside of you and your vision went white for a second. “please, please, please!”

“alright, alright.” he spoke as if he was being inconvenienced, but you saw the way he moved to sit up immediately. he took his thumb off and then paused, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your clit, making you jolt from the sudden pressure. “sorry, just giving you a good luck kiss before i destroy your guts, little red.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever, loser.” you chortled, pulling your fingers out and pushing the pillows underneath you away. when you laid back down, flat on your back, you brought your legs up and presented yourself to him with a wicked smile. “now come over here and fuck me with your big bad cock.”

wolf didn’t even get the chance to fully comprehend what you had just said to him before he burst out into hysterical cackles, falling face first into your chest as he laughed and laughed. you were no better, tears streaming down your face as you let out a long wheeze.

“my WHA-HA-HAT?”

“BUAHAHA!” you both were losing your minds, clinging to one another like you were going to disappear if you didn’t.

and when you had cooled down and wiped your face dry, you and wolf stared at one another, trying to catch your breaths. you then snorted and that’s what started another laughing fit, with wolf’s laugh going super high pitched.

then, after recovering from that, wolf had picked out a condom from his pants and tore it open, rolling it onto himself with a chuckle. he looked like he wanted to laugh more about your comment, but the throbbing of his dick reminded him of the task at hand.

“you’re so ridiculous.” he muttered, returning to his position above you. both of his hands moved to hook your thighs over his and you could feel the tip of his dick pressed against your pussy.

your heart thumped with anticipation. “don’t go easy on me, wolf. i can handle a little pain.” you teased, making him roll his eyes.

“after all the shit you just pulled, i don’t think i even have it in me to consider going gentle on you.” and then he pushed in. both of your jaws dropped as he moved at a semi-slow but steady pace until his hips had met your own. the hands that held your thighs open were now gripping hard enough to hurt.

“oh fuck.” you moaned.

“ditto.” he agreed, eyes fluttering shut. “shit, this might become a regular occurrence.”

“fuck, if your dick feels like this every time, i might make it a daily one.” you spoke in a breathy tone. your back arched and you shimmied your hips up, attempting to set a pace.

wolf met your motions with his own and soon, you both fell into a steady movement. every time you fell down and the tip of his dick rubbed against your sweet spot, you felt like you were going to pass out. he wasn’t like anything you ever had before, his dick shape unique enough to make just enough of a difference.

wolf, meanwhile, felt like he was in heaven. every clench and every sound that left you made him reach the edge far faster than he’d like to admit it. he was holding back with all of his might at every thrust, snarling to himself. fuck, he was about to start paying to be around him all day if it meant he got to do this whenever and wherever.

he leaned down, still thrusting at a consistent pace, and started marking up your body, wherever he could. one hickey on your stomach, another few on your boobs, and more littering your neck. he couldn’t get enough, he needed to be smothered in you.

so, he stopped thrusting and held you close to him, chest to chest. “what, why’d you stop--” you let out a surprised shriek when he flipped you both over, with him now at the edge of your bed and you straddling him.

“ride me.” he gasped, looking up at you with such desperation. “god, fuck, ride me.”

you didn’t even bother trying to act smart, using your knees as leverage and bouncing up and down on his cock. from this new angle, you felt him even better, his tip rubbing against your gummy walls at just the right pace. fuck, now you were embarrassingly close.

“shit.” you two cursed in unison, making you both snicker through the moans.

“i’m-- fuck-- i’m already close, red.” wolf murmured in disbelief, returning to his task at marking you up.

“glad to know it’s mutual.” you sighed, eyes squeezed shut and thighs beginning to tense uncontrollably.

it was like a wave of static crashed over you after a particularly good thrust, your entire body losing feeling except for in your pussy. you squeezed harshly and that’s what made wolf let out a broken moan before he came as well. he fell back, grabbing your back and dragging you with him.

you moaned into a rather clumsy kiss, riding out the waves of pleasure that felt like they would never end. eventually, you both had to pull back and while panting, you calmed down from the sensitive high.

wolf stared up at you like you were a god, smiling when you swiped the sweat off of your forehead. “pretty good, right?” he asked, both joking, but also making sure you enjoyed yourself.

you nodded rapidly, dispelling whatever worry he had. “oh yeah, i enjoyed that.” your voice was now gravelly, over-exertion from all the moaning and groaning ruining it.

you then moved to sit up, hands planted against his chest. “pretty good fuck for a criminal, i gotta admit.”

wolf blanched, eyes popping wide. you let out a half shriek, half laugh at his reaction, covering your mouth and leaning away.

though he probably should be shitting his pants, wolf just let out a long groan, wiping at his face. 

fuck, you were lucky your pussy was talented, or he would’ve ran out the room.

[sweetdreamsshifter]

Dustin Henderson x male reader reader hurts his foot and Dustin carry him EVERYWHERE like in scholl to home to bed unit his foot is better

The Fall

Dustin Henderson x Male!Reader

A/N- Oh my gosh, I LOVE this idea! I don't often write for Dust Bunny, but I will try my hardest! Also, I'm SO sorry it took me so long to reply, I finally got my computer working and am able to use it to write instead of my phone! Yay!

Word Count- 721

Y/P/N = Your Pet Name

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It wasn’t uncommon for Y/N and Dustin to be dangerous together. They figured that if they just pretended that they were invincible, the universe would take a hint and leave them alone. It worked for four years, even keeping them safe from the Upside Down, but it would seem that the universe is inevitably an uncalled for ass. 

“FUCK!” Y/N shouted as he fell from the tree. Today was a normal outing for the two boys. They’ve climbed this tree so many times they could climb it with their eyes closed and hands tied together, so there was no reason for them to worry about the sturdiness of the branches. Y/N didn’t realize that last night’s rainstorm had weakened his favorite branch to perch on until time slowed and he watched Dustin’s shared expression of fear grow smaller and less detailed.

“Y/N! What the shit! Oh no, no, no, no, no…” Dustin quickly climbed back down the tree, making sure to avoid any weak branches. The young boy scrambled to Y/N, who could barely keep his eyes open, and pulled him into his lap to inspect his face.

“Shit, are you okay? That was such a far drop, I can’t believe that I let this happen-” Dustin was stopped by a hand covering his mouth. Y/N moved out of Dustin’s lap, sitting up and brushing the leaves off his shirt.

“I’m okay, Dust, I promise. It was just a fall. Higher than normal? Yes, but nothing I can’t hand- Ah!” Y/N attempted to stand up, but the weight on his right ankle made standing unbearable. 

“I KNEW IT! I knew that fall was worse than you let on! Shit, shit, shit! Your mom’s gonna kill me! And your dad! Your dad already hates me! Oh god, okay, let’s go.” Dustin picked up Y/N and started making his way back to his house, hoping his mom would be able to help him. Y/N knew he was smaller than the rest of the party and had been picked up by Dustin before, but it didn’t stop his protests and insistent whines that he was okay.

“Dustin, let me down! I’m fine, really, I just wasn’t expecting the pain! I just rolled it, I promise!” When he got no response other than a tighter grip, Y/N gave up, his headache too strong to care. He knew he was alright, but it made his face warm and heart flutter to know that Dustin cared so much about his well being.

As Y/N suspected, he was totally alright. Well, not totally. He had fractured his ankle, but was to make a quick recovery. For the 7 weeks it took for him to recover, Dustin had insisted on carrying Y/N around, ignoring the whispers and stares of the strangers who saw them. It was no secret to those that knew the boys that they were together, but to the rest of Hawkins, it was an unconfirmed rumor that caused unnecessary talk. 

Even though it drove Y/N crazy at some points, he couldn’t have asked for his boyfriend to be better. Dustin had checked up on him everyday, always making sure to prop Y/N’s ankle on a pillow when he was sitting or laying down and carrying him whenever he could. He loved Y/N and didn’t want him to suffer any more than he thought he already was, when in reality, Y/N had never felt better. Not a single person who saw the two together would ever think that one of them was unhappy, but especially not when Y/N was blushing in Dustin’s arms. 

“Y’know, it’s nice to be out of that cast, but… but I’ll miss being in your arms everywhere we go.” Y/N said. The two boys were huddled under a pillow fort made in Y/N’s bedroom, trying not to fall asleep as the rain outside fell harder.

“All you have to do is say the word, Y/P/N, and you’ll never have to take another step.” Dustin replied sleepily, hugging Y/N closer to his chest as the two finally gave into sleep with blush on their cheeks and butterflies in their stomach. While it was hard to keep their relationship private from the prying eyes of small town Hawkins, it was easy to love each other when they knew the other would always lift them up.

[whaleofatjme1920]

Seeing Him Smile and Kiss Someone Else (Hoodie X F!Reader)

[Hoodie/Brian Thomas X F!Reader]

[Warnings: none]

[AN: Howdy! I cross post these on quotev under ‘Elsie I Guess’ and on AO3 under ‘Whaletales1920′ under the title ‘The Places You Shouldn’t Be’. Just thought I’d start uploading them here too.]

Part 2

Proxies aren’t supposed to do a lot of things: speak back to their master, challenge hierarchical roles, have relationships with each other of that caliber, and never, never ever absolutely never have romantic relationships with humans. 

Why? It’s a losing game. Everyone knows that. Should proxies seek any kind of attachment, platonic, romantic, even sexual, their best bet is to stay within their own kind: other proxies. It’s the polite thing to do. It’s the right thing to do. 

When you first came in, you bonded almost immediately to your group of four other individuals. There’s Masky, your group leader. He’s really sweet when he wants to be and seems to care the most about you - it’s probably because you’re new. Toby is akin to the middle child. He’s always buzzing around you a lot like a bumblebee. While he has his jerk moments, he’s got an eye out for you. So too does Kate, once the group’s newbie/runt. She’s the one you replaced. She’s relatively quiet and sticks to herself, but she’s never a stranger to helping you out and immersing you in the culture and world you’ve found yourself entangled in. 

And then there’s Masky’s right hand, a proxy named Hoodie, but you know him as Brian. Out of all your group members, Brian was the hardest to warm up to. He hardly acknowledged you when you were first placed in his group and was amongst the hardest in the hazing process (you’re still technically going through). But, after some time and getting to know each other, the two of you became the closest of friends, even going so far as to rival Masky’s friendship with him. It’s safe to say you got a bit of a crush on him, in simplest terms. 

Three times. Three times you felt you liked him.

The first time was when you were about to head out of your safe house on a grocery run. Proxies don’t have any leads, so cards are absolutely off the table. You walked out of the safe house, yawning slightly, and barely made it down the driveway when Brian had popped back out of the house. 

“Reader,” he called out, slowly moving to lean in the doorway of the empty house the five of you were squatting in. 

“Yeah?” You asked sleepily. 

“Forgetting something?” He holds up his hand - it’s the wallet. 

You feel heat rush to your cheeks as you speed walked back to the front door to retrieve it. “Guess I’m still kinda tired,” you admittedly awkwardly with a small chuckle. 

Brian shrugged slightly and threw you a smirk as he met you halfway, “Think I’ll accompany you this morning,” he said with a wink. 

The two of you began to walk as you mentally mulled over the man walking beside you - his hands in his pockets. You’d never really thought of him like that before, but the way he smiled and that wink… It planted a seed. You weren’t quite sure you were going to acknowledge it or if it was just a fluke, but the thought stayed, and then it remained. 

As the two of you traversed the grocery store for various things your comrades had asked for, you and Brian traded conversation about everything that popped into mind. 

“Oh, like you knew any better in high school,” you wheezed before tossing in a box of brownies. You’d just been discussing how terrible and how gods awful high school relationships can be and how at one low point, you got into one. Brian had said he knew better than to mess around in high school, but you had retorted that ‘we’re all young and dumb once.’ 

Brian raised a brow at the box but allowed it anyway. “I most certainly did and I knew how things were gonna play out before they even happened.” 

“On what basis? It’s not like you have future vision,” You snorted. You watched as he pushed the cart forward as you plucked items you needed from the shelves. 

He shot you a look. “I’m a guy, it’s practically flowing through our veins,,” he said as his eyes raked over the list. “I’d most likely be the reason those things are happening to begin with and knowing that is like it’s own future vision..” He flashed his smile at you. “Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever grew out of the dumb part,” he chuckled. 

Your heart skipped. 

The second time you thought you liked him was when you were in the car with him, heading back to your safe house (in an entirely different part of the country). The two of you were more than exhausted after clearing a house whose occupants the Operator wanted dead for one reason or another and Brian decided to steal a car. So, there you sat in the passenger seat. 

“Something on your mind?” He hummed, arm resting on the console. His hazel colored eyes flicked over to you with interest. 

You shrugged, “just thinking.”

“Dangerous for people like us,” Brian chuckled. “Care to get specific?” 

You sighed slightly and turned your eyes to the passing street lights overhead as the car pulled onto the late night expressway. “Thinking about all the things I’ll miss,” you admit. 

Brian nodded from the corner of your eye. “I think about that stuff too,” he said, a small frown pulling onto his face. “You were finishing up college?” 

“Yeah,” you said. “I mean, I guess I’m getting out of the college loan debt but… Y’know,” you trailed off slightly, your posture changing slightly. “Maybe I would’ve been normal. Get a cool job, live a non murderous life, have a family and a loving partner. I don’t know, like, whatever the American dream says we should have. Anything but this.” 

Brian laughed slightly, “sorry. It’s not - it’s not you,” he explained. “It’s just awfully similar to what I wanted.” 

You turned your attention from the passing lights over to Brian. “White picket fence is your thing?” 

“More or less,” he hummed. “Wanted to live the rest of my life like a normal person.

Certainly died like one, more or less,” he finished. 

You mentally hummed, already knowing what he was referring to. Died and got resurrected. “Don’t think falling from a floor up counts as normal.” 

“Hey, it worked out for…. Something nice,” he quickly chirped. “Fell and met an angel.” 

He briefly turned his head to look at you and flashed a grin. 

“Oh that’s so bad.” 

“You love it.” 

You really do.  

The third time was when the two of you were on the rooftop of some house you’d been spending a lot of time at. It was kind of nice to be able to settle down in one place for more than a month - it’d been going on close to a  year. It was your roof, the one you shared with Brian. Late in the night, when the crickets sang and the stars danced, the two of you snuck up against Masky’s best wishes to talk about the world and life before. 

When summer was giving way to autumn and sending cool breezes throughout the night, you and Brian had been up there once again. 

“You think EJ will be around?” You asked, looking up at the stars you barely knew the names to. “BEN did say he was in the area.” 

“Gonna say yes,” Brian hummed back, momentarily pausing to point out Altair. “He’s always had a soft spot for our group,” he noted. “Why? You looking forward to seeing him?” He chuckled, hand reaching out to ruffle your hair. 

You laugh as quietly as you can and shake your head, “we’ve hardly ever spoken!” You giggled. “I just think he’s cool.”

Brian snorted in response and nodded, “yeah, I think so too. Though, where’d you get the opportunity to talk with BEN?” 

“There’s a little computer cafe in town,” you said, eyes flicking towards the direction of said cafe. “I’ve been spending a lot of time there. Mostly to use the internet,” you admitted, a slight heat coming to your cheeks. Proxies really aren’t supposed to use the internet. “Toby also sometimes tags along.” 

“So that’s where he’s been getting those weird references from,” Brian said with a tone of understanding. “Next time you go, let me know. I’d love to see what you children are up to online,” he teased. 

You laughed again and nodded, “sure thing.” 

The two of you continued to talk before a particularly hard gust of wind came in. On instinct, you shivered - though you weren’t really cold. 

Upon seeing you shiver, Brian took no hesitation in taking off his hoodie, much to your chagrin. 

“Oh, you don’t have to-” you began as you attempted to push it towards him. 

“I insist,” he had said, already popping the thing over you. 

You relented and allowed the giant hoodie to envelop your form like a warm hug. It smelled just like him - something woodsy, smoke, and the faintest of graphite. When you looked back at Brian, he was staring up at the stars, a small smile on his face. His eyes did not leave the inky blueish-black, not even when your hand came within millimeters of holding his. 

All it took was three times. Three times to know you liked him, and once to know you’d lost him. 

As stated before, it is absolutely a losing game to get involved with humans. Humans are frail and prone to panic. They can’t understand the world the way you do, nor are they suited for life the way you are in their current form. In your society, humans are the lowest of the low, akin to cattle - albeit, sentient cattle. Only when they are lifted from their human status are they finally given the time of day. 

He never would have known about her if you never brought up that computer cafe. Truly, it was a mistake on your part. You didn’t mean to, but it had happened anyway. 

“Cute place, right?” You smiled, eyes traveling up and down the rows of tables. 

“The cutest,” Brian agreed with a small chuckle. “Do we go up to a counter and order or..?” He trailed off slightly as he inspected the place and took in all the minor details. 

“Just take a seat, a waiter will be around shortly,” you said, immediately pulling him to your preferred spot by the windows and tucked away into the corner. 

Brian followed your lead and took a seat next to you where he immediately powered on the computer. “It’s kinda weird that they let us have food this close to the electronics, no?” 

“Oh no, it’s super weird,” you nodded as you began flicking open tabs to get to the things you wanted - maybe say hi to BEN. “But, it works. So like, c’est la vie?” You giggled, fingers moving quickly across the keyboard. 

A few moments later, a waitress stopped by. You had already managed to pull up a chat with BEN and were so engrossed in catching up with him that you failed to notice her. You hadn’t even recognized she was there until you heard her giggling at something Brian had said. 

“Never thought I’d be that star struck,” Brian had finished the small anecdote with eyes that practically sparkled. 

Her smile only widened. “You? The star struck kind?” She teased lightly. “Have to see it to believe it.” 

Brian looked up at her, his lips now pulled up into a smile. “You’re looking at it right now.” 

It pulled you so hard out of your conversation with BEN that you’d accidentally sent him a half-baked thought. “Wait what?” 

Your sound of confusion had snapped the two back into reality. “Oh! I’m sorry, sugar,” the waitress apologized with a slight blush rising to her cheeks. “Was there something I could get you?” 

You blinked a few times, your eyes darting between the two before finally managing to stammer out your drink and pastry of choice. You watched as Brian’s eyes followed her out and when she came back in. 

Long after the two of you had finished, the two of you decided to head back. 

“That was fun,” you said. 

“It was,” Brian replied, thoughts drifting elsewhere. 

Ever since that moment, he’d been going to the café with and without you. Sometimes you’d find yourself heading there only to see him entranced in conversation with the waitress, and when that happened, you turned right back around. At first it was to give them space, and then it was to give yourself space. 

You wished you could allow yourself to weather through this one with grace and that it didn’t bother you, that it didn’t get on your nerves, but it did. Slowly but surely, it had chipped away at some odd part of you that you didn’t even know existed prior to. 

Masky was the first to bring it up. 

“Reader,” he began. “Can you wrangle Hood from that café? Operator wants us to do something - I just need him,” he said, barely looking up from his newspaper. 

“I can go if you want,” you suggested before poking your head back out from the refrigerator. 

“Hm?” That got Masky’s attention. “Are you sure?” He raised his eyebrow, giving you an inquisitorial look. 

“It’s no big deal,” you said with a small smile as you plucked your drink out from the fridge. “Besides, I think Hoodie’s busy.” You had to fight the unpleasant feeling that bubbled up in your chest after you said that. 

“Oh,” Masky gave a hum of recognition. “Toby did mention he was getting a little close to someone there,” he said in passing. 

You shot Masky a look. 

He shot one back. 

Internally, you both know that’s not the best thing - but Masky’s not going to stop his best friend. And you know you won’t either. 

Kate mentioned it next, though she seemed to be telling you that you’d get  over it. It came relatively out of the blue. See, the two of you were standing in the living room of a house painted in blood just chatting, waiting for the Operator to give you direction on what he wanted for the man he wanted alive when Kate got weirdly serious. She sat down on the sofa and invited you to sit down next to her. 

“You can’t keep avoiding him like that,” she hummed, her shoe digging into the man’s chest as he wriggled beneath her step. “I know it’s awkward, but he’s your comrade first.” 

You rolled your eyes and lightly pushed at her. “Come on, it’s not that serious,” you said, attempting to play off your feelings that were so gods damn obvious throughout the time you’ve been spending in this area. 

“Are you kidding me?” Kate chuckled. “Look,” her hand is on your shoulder as she digs her heel into the man’s chest, cracking his ribs slightly. “It’s uncomfortable. I get that. It’s why we don’t… Do that kind of thing.” She rubbed her thumb in little circles on your shoulder as she grounded you. “It’s probably for the best, even though you can’t see it right now.” 

You sighed and gave her a look of slight pain. “You’re probably right.” 

“I know I’m right.”

It’s not that Toby is bad at reading a room, but it’s that he’s really bad at reading a room. When the two of you went to the computer café for your outing, he was excited to see the girl Brian was ‘seeing,’ as he somehow managed to miss her from every other precious visit. It was so obvious that they had been - her perfume was practically embedded into his skin now - and his smile was brighter than the sun after seeing her. 

And here you were, not even wanting to know her name. 

It’s Fiona. 

“Toby!” She greeted as she bounded up to your table. “Reader! What a nice surprise!” There was no malice in her tone. She was genuinely happy to see you. “What can I get you two today?” 

“C-Chocolate croissant and some h-h-hot chocolate please,” Toby said. He then turned to you, and as if he read your mind, gave her your order as well. “H-How have t-things been?” He asked. 

“Really good,” Fiona replied. “He’s such a sweetie, got me this necklace.” 

Your eyes immediately left the screen and travelled to her neck. There it was. Beautiful necklace. Silver chain with a hunk of rose quartz at the bottom in the shape of a bullet.You remembered seeing that pendant. It hung on his mirror for such a long time. You once overheard him saying to Kate how it was your possible birthday gift. 

“It’s so pretty,” you smiled, eyes not quite following. 

You were damn certain if you were suffering from hanahaki you would’ve choked on flowers by now and died. The last nail in the coffin? 

Now. Right now. You came back to the safe house just wanting to relax, maybe star gaze for a bit and fall asleep outside - anything and everything sounded better than just being alone in your thoughts after the Operator had some harsh words to say to you on account of your performance slipping ever so slightly from his golden standards. You fix yourself a warm mug of tea and start making yourway to the rooftop. It’s the same path you’ve always taken: head up the stairs to the upper floor, last room on the left side of the hall, go in and open the study windows there and hang out on the roof. 

You make sure to take careful steps as you ascend, not wanting to spill any of your carefully made tea as you seek to unwind. With a deep breath, you start making it through the hallway, thankful no one else is here. Masky is away on business, Kate is doing something with Jeff and Toby left a few hours ago to meet with someone he deems important. Come to think of it, you haven’t had the house free in a while. 

But, as you step closer and closer to the last room on the left, you hear it. Giggling, whispers, conversation that’s so innocent and intimate at the same time. You notice the study door is closed. It’s never closer. You step closer. 

“You’re so sweet,” That’s Fiona’s voice. “You don’t have to get me all these things - I don’t even know where I’m gonna wear all of them.” She giggles. 

“Wear a different one every time I come to see you.” That’s Brian. “Gonna be burning through those things like crazy.” You hear the sound of a kiss. 

“You got a deal,” Fiona chuckled. Another kiss. 

You hear the roof shingles move slightly as they move closer together. Against your better judgment, you push open the study door slightly. Must you be so nosy?

There, sitting on the roof outside the window is Fiona and Brian. She’s wearing his sweater (it’s just polyester) and giggling as he peppers her face in kisses. When she’s decided he’s covered her in enough kisses for an entire year, she presses her lips to his. 

He smiles before kissing her back just as fervently. 

Without a sound, you begin to head back to your room. 

Perhaps tea in your room would be better. 

[nightklok]

8 Chuckles!

50Types of Kisses

I worked on this because i thought it would be short and sweet but NOPE (on the short part)-thanks for this it was cute writing this though! :D

8. Laying a gentle kiss to the back of the other’s hand. Trigger Warnings: drinking/alcohol use

The dethharmonic was a financial disaster to put it simply. Well, for the charity part it was actually quite successful. The costs regarding the clean up, reconstruction and compensation for the victims’ families, however, was something else. Even though it didn’t create much of a dent in their budget it was still a number Charles didn’t necessarily like to see.

So maybe concert charity events weren’t the best of ideas. The record label, the accountants, and people behind the scenes said that a charity event still needed to be done when the new year rolled around. And luckily, he knew how to play the cards just right to come up with a (hopefully) foolproof idea: a ball.

It sounded as unmetal as one would expect but it wouldn’t be just any ordinary  ball. Set it at Friday the 13th or a blood/full moon, make the theme gothic or give dark elements, have Dethklok perform an exclusive song, and it became the talk of the media once word got out about it.

The band surprisingly seemed fine with it once they heard they could help out with the theme and even pick out a charity. They had picked out a gothic gore viking victorian theme which was probably the hardest theme to ever try and match color schemes/aesthetics for. They picked a charity that set up music programs orphans and underprivileged children, which while was no children’s hospital was at least going to a good cause. A song was made in time for once as well, a song about some Victorian queen fighting the last viking but Charles wouldn’t complain about the odd choice of themes; a song was a song.

The date was picked, tickets went on sale only to quickly sell out the moment they were posted online, and it seemed like everything was slowly going to be smooth sailing from there.

Smooth sailing for the event itself. His personal life? Not so much.

Pickles was excited, more than usual, about the ball. He could’ve said it was because of getting a chance to drink all night long but knew it wasn’t because of that.

“I,ah, would need to remind you, Pickles, that our relationship still needs to be private.” Charles said to him.

“C’mon just one dance won’t hurt?” Pickles asked. He kissed him as he snuggled closer to bed with him. 

“I’m not sure,” Was all he really said, “But I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

In all honesty, it was his fault for setting Pickles up for disappointment. He should’ve told him that it simply wouldn’t be possible at the moment and save him the frustration and sadness. But he didn’t and went to bed feeling guilty like he was leading him on when he didn’t mean to.

The topic wasn’t brought up again and soon enough, it was finally the night. Charles had been dressed in Victorian attire; a light gray jacket over his white collared shirt and a dark green tie. It wasn’t that far off from what he normally wore but the jacket was very reminiscent of how long Victorian jackets normally wore. He had a historian fact check his outfit so it was probably the most accurate outfit of the ball. He greeted and welcomed the guests as he walked around the venue, looking for a particular redhead among the crowd.

It took a few minutes but he finally saw Pickles with the band enter. He had gone with a Victorian gothic look to match with the rest of the band. Of course he had to think it but he did believe he was the most strikingly handsome of them all. He had a long dark red jacket, imprinted with tiny skulls, a black shirt with a ruffled collar, no tie but he definitely didn’t need it in that outfit. He already had the stage make up on, presumably to make it easier to perform but it only added to the outfit.

He approached the boys with a gentle smile, “Looks like you boys really went all out on these outfits. I’m impressed.”

“Yeah, well I’m sure we would’ve looked better as vikings but someone had to disagree!” Murderface glared at Skwisgaar who merely shrugged.

“Vikings are...overrateds.” Was all he said.

“Well, regardless, you all look great. Why don’t you go enjoy yourselves while you wait for your performance?” 

The boys didn’t argue to that and quickly dispersed among the crowd. Only Pickles was left though, eyes glistening in excitement, “You look really handsome in that outfit.”

No stranger to compliments, he still blushed regardless, “Well, you do too. Might even be better than me even if your outfit is inaccurate.”

“C’mon, give me a break. Hard to find an outfit that will even top yours.” He grinned, ready to reach up to touch his arm but remembered where they were so he stopped.

He wanted to kiss him so badly but he knew that it would not go over well. He could imagine it now; the music and crowd would pause like a film. They would gasp and then it would be all over the news within minutes and their careers would be ruined.

He couldn’t risk that at all so he did keep his distance from Pickles even though both their moods had slowly soured. 

“I’m sorry,” Was all Charles was able to say. It was almost a whisper, inaudible by the sound of music coming from the DJ but Pickles heard it.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about me. You go enjoy yourself, okay?” Pickles gave him a sad smile and could only give an awkward wave before leaving.

Charles saw him disappear behind the crowd. Before he could even go after him, he saw some business exec from a country approach him. His politeness caused him to be stuck in a conversation with him and eventually a few other business people about some collaboration with wanting to bring back minidiscs or something. 

He wouldn’t see Pickles until they performed, but even then they never made eye contact. He tried to approach him after the performance but was once again swamped with people approaching him and he had disappeared once again.

___

The last of the guests left the venue which left only Dethklok, some of their dates, and the klokateers beginning to clean up.

Nathan picked up a passed out Toki from the floor and hoisted him over his shoulder. He looked at Pickles who was drinking wine and eating the last of the cinnamon rolls they had, “Well, uh, gonna take him to bed and then go to sleep. You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks, Nate.” He smiled up at Nathan who only patted his shoulder in return and left without saying another word.

Murderface seemed to have gotten lucky as he ended up approaching Pickles with Nathan and Toki’s dates by his side. He did bend down to whisper in his ear, “The guillotine’s not gonna be picked up for another thirty minutes. Just figured you’d wanna know.”

As tempting as it was, he had to reject that idea, “I’ll think about it. Go have fun.” 

Skwisgaar was nowhere to be found but Pickles had figured he picked up his, his own, possibly Murderface’s, and whatever other people he had flirted with to bring to his room. And while he would realize he was partially correct in that aspect, he would later learn that it was Skwisgaar that managed to get Charles away from his obligated casual meetings.

He was already finished with his dessert and was opening a bottle of wine to drink when he heard, “May I take a seat with you?”

Pickles looked up to find Charles standing there in front of him with an apologetic look on his face and he couldn’t say no to that. He gestured to the empty seat next to him with the opened bottle of wine, accidentally spilling some of it on the floor. He poured him a glass of wine as he sat down before drinking from the bottle for himself.

"Pickles, I’m sorry about tonight.”

“It’s okay,” He shrugged, “I mean, I know that we can’t just...be public ‘cause it’s not a good idea but it’s still a little disappointing, y’know?”

“I understand, I really do. I spent so much time tonight wishing I was with you rather than having to talk with so many people.” He placed his hand on top of the other’s squeezing it as if also silently reminding him that they were alone at least.

“Me too. Just sucks getting to see everyone dance with their fucking dates but we can’t even do something stupid like that.”

“It’s hard, I know. But it will be so worth it in the future, trust me. We just need more time to figure out when’s the right moment to tell such a thing. Even if the event is over, the night’s not quite over yet.” Charles said as he stood up from his chair. He offered a hand to Pickles, “May I have this dance?” 

Pickles looked up at him with a smile for the first time since the beginning of the ball and nodded. He took his hand and was led to the dance floor by him. 

The klokateer DJ didn’t need to be told anything and played a Testament song as there was no classical slow songs pre-installed as per Dethklok’s request. Close enough. 

Charles took his hands, kissing them gently before pulling him closer to kiss him deeply, “I may not say it enough but I love you, Pickles.”

“Don’t need to say it; I already know. I love you, too.” He smiled at him before wrapping an arm around his waist and taking the other’s hand.

Maybe having a private relationship wasn’t so bad, after all.

[infcstissumam]

Hello~! I was wondering if you can make a headcanon with era 4 ghouls + the ghoulettes on how they would treat a chubby female. Like if they would be protective with the reader. Thank you~! 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Hello, Nonny! How are ya? I definitely can do your request! 

I just wanted to start off your request by generally speaking for all ghouls:

There isn’t a single ghoul who’ll treat you any differently because of your size. People are uniquely shaped, and there’s nothing wrong with that, you are who you are and who you chose to be is far more critical than any clothing size. 

Furthermore, regarding ‘types,’ they don’t control a ghoul and their desire. It may make them go ‘daaaamn’ faster, but it’s never a deal closer. The way you treat them, carry yourself, etc. is. For instance, catch Mountain and Rain, making a B-line towards a person who carries themselves confidently but not confrontationally. Y’know?

Anyways, with that established, I’m going to extrapolate that you’re requesting them reacting to someone mistreating them because of their size. If I’m wrong, feel free to yell at me in the inbox! (also I’m guessing by era 4 ghouls, you mean the boysTM, so I’ve just done them + the gals )

Aether

Aether can’t exactly claim to know your exact pain. He’s never been in your shoes, and he understands that. Still, his experiences as a burly man, well, give him a bit more insight than some others. 

The snide comments and judgement from strangers, the looks when you try to go about your life, like some kind of spectacle. A fetish to some, a disgrace to others. The dehumanization of it all, it hurts, it wears away at your pride, and he knows. 

Still, he’s come to a point where he knows raising on his hackles does nothing but exacerbate the situation, the best response, yet the hardest still, is to just ignore it all. 

When the comments and glances come, he just pulls you closer to his side. You don’t see it, but he’s seething, he’ll lead you out of the situation with all the grace of a ballerina. 

If he notices the twinge of your lips pulling down, the way your eyebrows would slump in defeat and humiliation. He’s quick to reassure you you’re perfect as is. 

Dew

Oh good lord, Dew, to say he’s protective is an understatement, he’s reactionary. 

When the critics come to make their comments, he’s first to jump into the offence. 

It can be much, no, it is much when he’s stomping up to the jackasses to chew em out for their rudeness. The embarrassment flushes straight to your cheeks. 

In his eyes, the scene is worth it, he’s proving a point. His mate is gorgeous as is. They’re a dick, and everyone around them should know it, and they should nothing less than the crippling social shame and scuttle back to the shadows they came from. 

Still, you may have to urge him to back off, you know he cares and wants to defend you, but not like that. Maybe he can just stick to hissing under his breath as he moves in front of you, shielding those that don’t deserve to see you from sight. 

Rain

He’s so confused. New to human culture, he doesn’t understand why they did that. He’s smart enough to deduce it isn’t normal and realizes it’s hurtful but why?

He can’t wrap his mind around it, the cruelty is unnecessary, unwarranted. 

Even after the initial incident, it weighs heavily on his mind. He wasn’t the intended target, and it’s stirred such feelings in him. He’ll ask, long after you’ve left, how you feel about it all. 

When you remark that you’re used to it, you’ll notice how his eyes fall beneath the mask. 

If it hurts you, you shouldn’t have to be used to it. It’s not a problem you should have to face, their intolerance, their cruelty, you don’t deserve having it weigh on your shoulders. 

From there forward, you’ll notice how much more vocal he is with compliments and praise, you’re a bit taken aback, until you realize he’s doing it because he wants to equalize the negative with positive, so you know the little things that he sees that no stranger can discern at first glance. 

Cumulus

The most experienced in the subject, she can recall the way she’s been treated, reduced to her chubbiness as if that’s her only characteristic. She knows the comments thoroughly, long have they haunted her into the night. 

For a time, she even believed the problem lay in her, but, of course, this isn’t the case. 

It took years, but eventually, she found confidence in herself, in her body. The cruelty embedded in her from years of belittling for her appearance, lifted, even if only slightly from her shoulders and for once, she felt comfortable and satisfied. 

So, you can hardly fathom the pain she feels when you struggle with these same issues, this same cruelty. 

In you, she can see herself, your pain is hers and she’s irate.

She wants to walk up to that jackass and tear them a new one, but, unlike Dew, she’s conscious enough to understand that won’t help you, it’ll only make her happy. So, she bites back her anger and, like Aether, help you out of the situation. Whispering reassurances in your ear,

“ Don’t listen to these clowns, Pooh Bear, you look great,” 

Cirrus

Like Dew, protectiveness is her first instinct. 

It’s the baseline and a bit embarrassing for you, but she can’t help it when your face drops, dejected but not surprised.

The hot air of their words only fans her flames, she’ll pull them closer to her, her grip tightening around their hip as she retorts. 

Not with a flurry of impassioned words, but with equal comments, not towards their size, but their intelligence, fashion sense, etc. 

She’s cutting and clever, striking controlled blows against their ego. A fitting punishment for trying to degrade your self-esteem.

It’s impressive in all honestly, and even you can’t help but let your jaw drop with the sheer heat of her burns. 

[shedyou-blog]

Rush (Adonis Creed One-Shot)

Summary: A young intern has a rough start to her day, and running into a certain stranger is just the icing on the cake. 

Warning: Mild language.

Word count: 3,399

Notes: I might turn this into a series, but for now it’s just a quick one-shot that I wrote last night. This is my first ever piece of writing that I’ve shared, so I’m pretty nervous. Feel free to leave your feedback or any requests, as I’m keen on wanting to better myself as a writer. Also, thank you to my friend, Brittani, for being my proofreader/editor! I appreciate you! You guys can check out her material @killmongers-counselor ❤️

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ─── 

“Thank you so much, Greg!” I cried out to the barista behind the Starbucks counter as I made my way past the crowded sea of people trying to get their morning beverages and breakfast. Holding a piping hot cup of coffee in one and my briefcase in the other, I used my shoulder to quickly push the door of the Starbucks open and made my way on to the ever so lively, busy streets of New York City.

This morning had been a doozy, considering the fact that I overslept, and was now running late for work. As an intern for one of the top public relations firms in the country, I made it my mission to appear as professional as possible in order to achieve the career that I’ve always wanted, which was to be the best damn publicist in the entertainment business that the world had ever seen.

Glancing down at the rose gold Apple watch on my wrist, I cracked one eye open, scared to look at the time displayed on the tiny screen. “Fuck!” I let out a tumultuous groan as I proceeded to power walk down the congested sidewalk amongst other wayfarers trying to get to their individuals destinations. There was never a time where NYC wasn’t busy, especially during the weekdays. The streets were always filled with employees making their way to their nine to fives. I fret that I wasn’t going to make it to my job on time, becoming annoyed and panicked as I damn near sprinted, finally approaching the area in which my workspace was located. The only issue was that I was on the wrong side of the street and making it across the hectic street would prove a challenge. However, at this moment in time, I didn’t care about anything other than making it to my job, so I took my chances. Holding up my hand that was preoccupied by my briefcase, I began to jog across, passing by a few cars. The owners of the cars were obviously irritated, making sure that they honked their horns at me to let me know how dumb I was, but I didn’t care.

I was halfway across the street when suddenly, my heel got caught in a subway grate, causing me to lose my footing, but I quickly recovered by stretching my arms to my sides, which helped me with my balance. Once I got my body to stop swaying back and forth, I crouched down to try and retrieve my heel which was still stuck in the subway grate. “Oh, my fucking god, you have to be kidding me right now.” I harshly whispered to myself, thinking my morning couldn’t get any worse than what it already was.

“Aye, watch out!” I heard someone bellow out, but I was way too focused on trying to save my heel to pay them any attention. “Hey!” They yelled again, and that’s when my entire body crashed into the sidewalk. It was as if something, or more so, someone, had collided right into me.

I let out a shriek, bewildered and thinking over what the hell had just happened. A few seconds later, the weight that had slammed into me removed itself while I still laid on the hard, gray concrete. “What the fu- “I turned my body around and sat up, so I was sitting on my butt, and that’s when I looked up to see a well-built African-American man standing over me with his somewhat swollen hand extended to me. Before I grabbed his hand, I analyzed him quickly. His torso was clad in a skin tight, long sleeved black shirt, which was layered with a warm black leather jacket with beige fur lining the outsides. His jeans were a dark wash blue and they slightly sagged a little, but not too much to where they were falling off his ass. He adorned a pair of classic tan Timberlands on his feet. He was good looking, handsome, actually. I’ll give him that. Hesitantly, I took his hand into mine and he pulled me up, helping me stand to my feet. My feet. Underneath my left foot, I could feel the hard, cold, gravely pavement. I glanced down, finding that my shoe was no longer attached to my foot and my eyes immediately darted toward the street to see that it had already been ran over, and was continuing to be ran over by other vehicles making their way through town. “SERIOUSLY?!” I huffed out, sulking and stomping my feet, to which the male currently standing before me found to be amusing. I quickly shot him the hardest glare I could muster which only made him laugh even harder. If I wasn’t so angry, I would have noted how perfect his teeth were, but I was way more focused on giving him a piece of my mind than complementing his features. “I don’t see what it is that you find so funny. Now what am I gonna do? I literally have to be at work in three minutes and I’m missing a fucking shoe!”

With a shake of his head, he beamed down at me. “It was either gonna be you or the shoe. I figured you were worth more than an object that could be easily replaced.”

“Well that’s where you’re wrong, because that shoe was VERY expensive, limited edition actually, therefore it can’t be replaced!” I spoke loudly with an eye roll and with as much venom that I could lace into my voice.

“Listen, if the shoes mean so much to you, I’ll buy you another pair to cover the damages.” He said with an exasperated sigh, sensing my anger through the tone of my voice.

“What part of these are limited editions did you not understand? Did you not listen to a word I just said?” I was pretty much yelling at the guy now.

He cocked an eyebrow at me as he looked at me in shock. “You know usually when someone gets their life saved, they show a bit of gratefulness by saying thank you. You’re crazy to wanna risk your life over a shoe of all things.”

“Yet you’d risk your life for a complete stranger, someone who you don’t know and will probably never see again?” I inquired, raising my eyebrow to imitate his earlier facial expression. I knew I was coming off as extremely rude and bitchy, but I was too far gone in rage to even care.

He gave a slight shrug of his broad shoulders. “Well, I’d rather die as a hero than die as a moron.”

“Excuse me? The hell is that supposed to mean?” I questioned, getting offended by his smart comment.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head while waving me off. “It doesn’t mean anything. Just leave, y’know…. so you won’t be late for work.”

“Oh, I’m going! You don’t have to worry about that!” I clapped back, making sure the tone in my voice was dripping with nothing but sarcasm. I quickly turned around and limped my way to my destination, before growing even more annoyed and taking the remaining heel off. Once inside the building where my job was located, I scurried through the front lobby with my head down, embarrassed to be seen by my fellow coworkers in my current state. I could hear murmurs and whispers as I felt people’s eyes burning a hole through my body. After what felt like forever, I reached the elevator and climbed in with a number of other employees, squeezing my way through so I could press the button that would take me to the tenth floor of the building. Once again, I could feel eyes on me, so I concentrated on getting to my meeting on time, and also tried to come up with an explanation as to why I was walking into a professional setting barefoot. This internship meant everything to me and was the key to achieving my dream job. I couldn’t let this mishap cost me everything that I’ve worked so hard to get.

When the elevator doors opened, I lightly jogged to the conference room, walking in to see my boss, Mr. Addington, and multiple other colleagues sitting at the long, freshly varnished conference table. I nodded my head swiftly as a greeting, and hurriedly made my way to my seat.  “You’re just in time Ms. Bridges. I was starting to think I was going to have to let you go. We are waiting on our new client to arrive and then we’ll proceed with the meeting.” I sighed, giving him a light “okay” as a response, honestly exhausted from how rough my morning had been. I was just grateful he hadn’t noticed my missing shoes.

Once seated, I took a deep breath, trying to relax my thoughts. I looked around the table nervously and spotted that everyone had their required paperwork stacked in front of them, just in case the client decided to pick who he or she wanted to represent them. Then it hit me. When I got knocked over on the sidewalk earlier, my coffee AND briefcase fell out of my hands and onto the jam pact streets of the Concrete Jungle. “Shit!” I said under my breathe so no one around me could hear. I scooted my chair back and stood up, straightening my outfit which had been wrinkled due to my fall a few minutes earlier. “Mr. Addington,” I squeaked out. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but I just realized that I left my paperwork out- um, on my desk! If you don’t mind, could I go and get it really quick?”

“Go ahead.” He finally spoke after a few seconds of sitting in silence, which seemed like an eternity. I nodded, trying to make a beeline for the conference room door, but then Mr. Addington stopped me.

“Ms. Bridges?” He called out from behind me, resulting in me stopping dead in my tracks, shutting my eyes tightly in order to brace myself for what I knew was about to come. “Why on earth are you walking around in a professional setting without shoes on?”

Turning around slowly, I gave him the most apologetic look that I could assemble, opening my mouth to say something, but someone standing behind me decided to speak for me. It was him.

“It’s because I spilled coffee on them. I might have gotten some on her briefcase too.” I turned my head in the direction of where the voice was coming from, only to see the man I had encountered earlier standing before me, holding a pair of the very same shoes that had been damaged along with my briefcase. He sported a dazzling smile, showing off his pearly whites while handing the items over to me. “Here you go, ma’am. Sorry about all the trouble.”

My mouth was wide open as my jaw hung low, in complete shock and disbelief that 1) I would run into him again and 2) he had found the same exact limited-edition shoes I was sporting earlier. I struggled to find the words to say, until I saw him stalking over to the other empty seat at the table, that’s when the realization hit me. “Wait, you’re our new client?!” I whispered to him before he got too far out of ear shot. He turned his head slightly, winking his eye at me with a cheeky grin plastered along his face.

“Well then Ms. Bridges, if you don’t mind, could you please take a seat, so we can get this meeting started?” Mr. Addington suggested. “Y-yes sir.” I stuttered while clearing my throat, ecstatic that I wasn’t going to lose my internship and headed towards the table to take my seat.

  ───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

When the meeting was over, everyone in the room stood up from their seats and began to fill out of the room, including the man whose name I had already forgot despite him being the topic of discussion at today’s meeting. I was still wanting to hold on to a little bit of anger, but it was hard to do so after his grand gesture of retrieving my briefcase and finding me my prized heels. Apparently, he was really popular in the boxing world, being the gifted seed of another popular boxer who had died before he was born. He recently became the new heavyweight champion of the world and was in need of a publicist to help mold his public image to the world. It seems as if he was known by the majority of the employees in the conference room, except me, considering I’m not into sports like that. The meeting ended with him not deciding who he wanted as a publicist, so Mr. Addington decided that we’d have another meeting soon unless he made up his mind later on today.

I quickly caught up to the man in the hallway, tapping him lightly on his shoulder with a manicured nail to get his attention. “Excuse me.” I croaked out, slightly nervous and embarrassed that I had made such a fool out of myself earlier.

He stopped walking and turned his head halfway, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. I could tell he was smirking, his eyes held a glint of amusement in them. “Yes?” He responded.

“Um, h-how did you get these? They’re-“I began to ask before he turned around fully and cut me off.

“Limited edition?” He chuckled, finishing my sentence for me. His shoulders bounced lightly, finding the turn of events humorous. “Girl, you ain’t the only woman in this building with these. You know that, right? They aren’t as limited as you thought.”

I nodded my head, beginning to stumble over my words. “I mean, yeah but- I know b-but- “He cut me off again.

“Look, I bought ‘em off some woman’s feet ‘ight? Don’t even trip. There yours now so you should be happy now, right?” He answered in the most sarcastic tone he could convene, imitating how I was acting earlier. He started to walk away again toward the elevator.

“Thank you!” I blurted out loudly and he stopped dead in his tracks, his back facing me while his finger hovered over the button that would take him to the first floor of the building.

“What are you thankful for? The shoes, saving your life, or saving your job?” He cocked his head to the side. I couldn’t see his face, but I just knew he was sporting an exasperated look on his features.

“Everything.” It came out more like a question and he kissed his teeth in response. “Look, I was dead wrong to not say thank you. I know I came off as a bitch and I truly apologize for being so nasty to you. I was just really stressed out and I know that isn’t an excuse to treat you the way that I did. I’m really sorry.”

He was still turned around the other way, nodding his head as a sign that he accepted my apology. “’Ight, I forgive you, but you owe me for doing me like that.”

“I’ll do anything! Just say the word.” I quickly rushed out, only to ponder that what I just said could be taken the wrong way. “Except sex. That’s out of the question. Anything but that.” He spun around at that statement, letting out a hearty laugh, his eyes squinting and his nose crinkling a bit. I hated to say it, but he looked absolutely adorable. He reminded me of a little kid at that moment. When he finally calmed down, he let out a small chuckle, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat. “I promise no sex. Just dinner and movie… and for you to be my new publicist.”

“Wait, whoa, whoa, whoa. You mean like a DATE date? I asked, taken aback that he’d even mention that as an option. Not to put myself down or anything, but I considered myself to be pretty average compared to the women I’d assume were his type. He seemed to be out of my league. “And also, you want me to be your publicist? Nigga, did you see how we were butting heads earlier? Plus I’m just an intern. There are other people who were in that room that are way more qualified and have more experience than me. You really think that’s a good idea?” I said with hand on my hip.

He gave me a blank stare, kissing his teeth again. “Nah I mean a conference.” He responded sarcastically to my first question. “And how are you gonna get experience if you don’t go out in the field first hand? If you do a good job, you might get hired for a full-time position. I think it’s a great idea.” I nodded my head slowly, taking in what he just said. He was making a lot of sense.

“Well when you put it that way… okay, what the hell, I’ll do it.” I obliged, glancing down at the shoes that were now on my feet, clasping my hands together behind my back as I rocked back and forth on the heels of my feet to the tips of my toes. “And as for the date, I mean, that’s cool. I would love that…” I trailed off, trying to remember the name Mr. Addington referred to him by during the meeting.

As if he read my mind, he chuckled once again. “You can just call me Donnie.” He smiled, shaking his head lightly in delight.

“Donnie” I repeated under my breathe a few times, making sure his name was ingrained in my brain. I looked up at him, his gaze was slightly intimidating. “Well, I’m- “

“Amondi. How could I forget such a unique name?” He had a habit of finishing my sentences, I could see. It seemed like he always had a way of knowing exactly was I was going to say, and he just met me. “Wait, Mr. Addington never referred to me by my first name. How did you know?” I gave him a side eye, curious as to how he found out that piece of information.

“This morning must really got you frazzled.” He spoke, amusement lacing his voice. “It’s labeled on the front of your briefcase.”

“Oh… well yeah, that’s correct. So, uh, do you wanna take my number or should I take yours? My mom always told me that if a guy gives you his number, then that means he has nothing to hide and is serious about wanting to get to know you, but if he takes yours instead, then that means he probably has a boatload of other women and would rather have your number, so you won’t have such easy access to him. He can call you whenever he wants but you can’t do the same.” I gave him a knowing look, analyzing his face to see if I could gauge his reaction.

“Well then, you got a pen?” He raised a brow at me, a smirk slowly forming across his face. I nodded my head, reaching in to my briefcase to retrieve my favorite red ink pen. I was expecting him to hold his hand out, so I could scribble my number onto his palm, but was shocked we he briskly grabbed the pen from my hand, holding it in his to write his own number on my palm. I smiled at him for what was probably the first time today as he quickly wrote each digit one by one onto my somewhat shaky palm that he held still with his own.

I knew for a fact my mom would cuss me out and would continue to do so until the cows come home if she knew I had agreed to a date with a guy I barely knew, but he just seemed different. He actually seemed like he wanted to get to know me for me, plus he was encouraging me to step out of my comfort zone by being his publicist. Most of the guys I’ve been with could care less about my career.

And after all, he found a way to make the impossible, possible, and not just once, but three times.

Let’s just hope I’m right.

[ericsonclan]

When She Braided Her Hair

Summary: Prisha struggles to adjust to life with only one functioning arm. Violet helps her see that there's still hope.

Notes: Companion piece to “Braiding Her Hair”, this time from Prisha's perspective.

Read on A03:

Prisha sat alone in her dorm room at Ericson’s School for Troubled Youth, trying her hardest to keep perfectly still as she reached with her one good arm to stroke the brush through her hair. Every misplaced twitch had her seizing up in pain, the burning sensation from her shattered arm radiating throughout her entire body. It had already been weeks since the injury, but she was nowhere near recovered. She would never fully recover; she was maimed for life. Prisha gritted her teeth, trying to focus on the task at hand rather than the new grim reality of her condition. She might be an invalid, but she could still have neat hair. She wasn’t letting this injury take away the one part of herself she’d always maintained. Finally after several minutes of painstaking effort and barely contained gasps of agony, her hair had been thoroughly brushed out. All that remained was to braid it. Prisha reached behind her, groaning in pain as she attempted to pull her hair forward. She started her regular steps, separating the hair into equal portions on her left side, right and her back, then froze as the realization struck her: this wasn’t going to work. This method relied on her approaching the braid from both sides at once with two hands. Prisha felt panic rising within her once more, the same she had felt at Ruby’s words as she informed her of what had happened to her arm. The same she experienced as she watched Dana and Marie be taken away while the rest of her group bled to death on the cliffside. No. Don’t let yourself go back there. She would find a new way to braid her hair. Standing up, Prisha walked over to where she’d laid the brush on the desk. Perhaps she could use it as some sort of placeholder, a bookmark while she shifted her good arm to the next position. This could work. The panic subsided as she once again began to undertake the task of braiding her hair. It was soon replaced with anger however as the brush quickly proved itself ineffectual. It would either slide out of the place she wanted it to be or get tangled in the hair it was meant to hold. After a few rounds, the brush became particularly snarled within her hair. Prisha tried to pry it out gently, then grew angry, swinging her hair back and forth. Her crippled arm immediately retaliated with an absolutely debilitating pain, causing Prisha to cry out and crumple in half from the pain. The brush clanged against the metal bedpost and fell uselessly to the ground. “Prisha? Are you OK?”

She heard the door open and immediately straightened up, casting a venomous glare at the treacherous brush. The corners of her eyes stung with tears she was too furious to shed. “What’s wrong?” It was Violet’s voice. She was the one who had carried Prisha back to the school, the girl who had saved her life. For her to come at this of all times was utterly humiliating. Prisha let out a harsh sigh. “I asked Ruby for a brush since after three weeks in a braid my hair looks like it belongs to a mongoose. Silly me though, I forgot that I would need two hands to rebraid my hair, just like I need two fucking hands for everything in this goddamn world!” Prisha felt her chest heaving as her emotions swelled. Damnit, she couldn’t let herself fall apart now! “Y’know what? I can braid your hair. I may not know a fucking thing about hair care, but it’s just a braid, right?” Violet bent down to pick up the brush. “You can sit down on the chair or the bed and I’ll get it done,” Prisha felt dazed. In the midst of all the chaos, she’d been repressing her emotions for weeks now. Having them all come out at once like this was proving taxing. Shakily, she nodded then sat down on the bed facing the closet, pulling her legs up against her chest and wrapping her right arm around them, her left cradled uselessly by her side. She had to make sure she didn’t jostle it. One more bout of pain might be too much for her to manage. She could hear Violet crawl on top of the mattress and sit behind her. To greet that childish outburst with an offer of help… these Ericson survivors really were something else. In all her years on the road, Prisha had only met a handful of people who would offer a stranger a hand. They tended to be those who’d been denied the same kindness in the past and did not wish that suffering to fall on another. From the burn marks on Violet’s face, Prisha wondered if the same story held true for her. Violet hadn’t moved yet. “Umm, remind me of the first step,” Prisha felt a smile weakly tug at her lips. Of course the art of braiding’s been lost with the apocalypse. Everyone else had the sense to cut their hair short. “You need to separate my hair into three equal sections,” “Right,” She could feel Violet touching her hair, so gently it almost felt like she wasn’t there. Prisha wondered if Violet was worried about hurting her. Considering that the purplish bruising of her arm travelled far above her bandages, it was a valid concern. Violet was certainly gentler than Prisha than she’d been with herself in her efforts to untangle her hair. Violet had stilled again. “Do you need the next step?” “Uh, yeah,” “Start with the section on the left side and cross it over the middle section. Then take the right section and cross it the other way, then bring the middle section over. Then just keep repeating those motions,” “Alright. Here goes nothing,” It was sweet of Violet to be attempting something she was clearly uncomfortable with. Prisha could hear her whisper a cuss as one section of her hair slipped out of her grasp. She was such a fascinating person. Prisha hadn’t thought much of her in the months since their first meeting, but the same traits that had stood out in Violet then were present here as well: tenacity and tenderheartedness. The two qualities tended to be mutually exclusive after the world ended. Either you were soft and died or you were hard and survived. It was exceedingly rare for someone to embody both within themselves. Prisha suddenly realized how quite she was being. She’d been so drawn into the peacefulness of the moment she hadn’t considered that her terseness might be unsettling. Awkwardly, she cleared her throat. “Did you used to have longer hair… before?” “When I was little. My grandma used to put it in braids whenever she took me to church. I hated it,” Violet paused and quickly back tracked. “Not that braids are bad! Just on me. She did them so tight,” It was cute how quickly she’d corrected herself. As if anyone had time to be offended by braiding preferences in the apocalypse. “My mother braided my hair when I was little, but she taught me how to do it myself from a pretty young age. She said that braided hair was a sign of dignity for a woman.” Prisha reached up a hand, fiddling with a stray strand by her face. “I know it would be more practical for me to cut it, but something just stops me each time I consider it. Who knows. Maybe it’s just my way of saying fuck the walkers and fuck this entire shitty world. They can take a lot from me, but how I do my hair is still my own fucking choice. I may not control what I eat or where I sleep or…” She took a shaky breath. “Or the well-being of my own body, but dammnit, I still have my hair,” Damn, way to monologue, Prisha. “That’s sorta badass,” Prisha snorted. “Thanks, I guess. Everything’s going to shit and here I am being Indian Rapunzel,” “It works on you,” “Thanks,” Prisha felt a bit of warmth growing in her chest at the reiterated compliment. Violet didn’t strike her as the type to give compliments lightly. She should know better than to brush her words off. Prisha turned slightly so she could look back at Violet who was earnestly focusing on the braiding process. “You know, I can see why you hated them. The braids, I mean. Your hair looks good short,” “If by ‘good’ you mean ‘looks like some hay that a cow shit on’ then yeah, I guess it looks good,” Prisha scoffed. “No, it’s not like that at all. It looks like… y’know that tall grass that grows beside rivers? The kind with those wheat kernels on the end that you can’t eat? Then autumn comes and they turn this warm, light gold tone and just sway back and forth in the breeze…. Your hair is like that,” Shit, that sounded super gay. She hoped she hadn’t just freaked Violet out. “Your braid is done,” Violet draped it over Prisha’s right shoulder. “Thank you,” Prisha said, fiddling with the tail end of the braid. Not bad at all for a first attempt. “You got it perfect. Not too tight,” She turned around on the bed, leaning against the wall. “Sorry you had to come into the middle of my tantrum. Was there something you needed from me?” “Dishes,” Violet answered abruptly. “Omar wanted me to bring your dishes down if you were done with them,” “Oh, yes, of course. Could you tell him thank you for me? His cooking is seriously amazing. The best I’ve had in years,” “He’ll be happy to hear that,” Violet reached out to grab the small pile of dishes, moving backwards toward the door. “I’ll leave so you can sleep now,” Dang it. She shouldn’t have asked Violet what she came in for. “Alright. And Violet?” “Yeah?” Prisha found herself looking out of the boarded-up window, unable to meet the eyes of the girl who’d just helped her for fear of her voice cracking with emotion as she spoke. “Thank you. For dropping by. It helped,” “Anytime,” With that, Violet was out the door and Prisha was alone again. Well, there wasn’t anything else to be done tonight. Her hair was fixed and the tension in her body had finally dissipated enough that she felt she could sleep. Blowing out the candle by her bedside, Prisha lay down on her bed. Her future was still unclear, a fact that terrified her to her very core. But for the first time since she’d lost the use of her arm, lost her group, lost everything… for a few minutes things had been pleasant. Perhaps all was not lost just yet. She needed to stay practical and be prepared for the worst, but the people at Ericson hadn’t kicked her out yet. Maybe, just maybe they wouldn’t? It was too much to think of right now. With a sigh, Prisha closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to take her. She was glad that Violet had dropped by tonight. She’d given Prisha something she thought she had lost: the comfort of knowing she was not alone.

[fidelityrecords]

◊ ♫ ◊— look what the cat dragged in! that’s EMMYLOU MARTELL and SHE is an around 25-year-old CASUAL VISITOR to the store, but they’ve been in the neighborhood for 2 YEARS. I think they are an ARTIST & GALLERY CURATOR’S ASSISTANT and I overheard them listening to PAINTING (MASTERPIECE) by LEWIS DEL MAR, and, I dunno man, it seemed pretty fitting. Like, call me shallow but I look at them and think of NATASHA LIU BORDIZZO and BUTTON DOWN SHIRTS STOLEN FROM AN EX, NOVELTY TOTEBAGS, GRANDMA’S JADE PLANT, LINSEED OIL AND MILE LONG TO-DO LISTS. (ooc info: sam, she/her, est, 24)

Welcome to Fidelity Records! Is it your first time here?

Emmy pauses, looking up from a heinously stickered-up Beastie Boys record jacket. While she speaks, short nails pick away at one with a lifted edge. “I mean, I’m not like— here every day,” the brunette explains, talking too much as she often does. “But I’m trying to flesh out my collection, y’know? I want it to be super authentic or I’d just buy the album from the week at Urban. Record stores are dying out, being here is basically like recycling.“ She pauses, pressing her lips together when she realizes that she hasn’t answered the initial question yet. “No, I come like once a week after work.”

Where are you from?

“God, is it that obvious I’m not like— a true New Yorker? I swear, growing up fighting off subway rats just makes you different. It’s an aura thing.” Her hand touched at her collar bone, “I’m from New Haven, so not super far. Literally just close enough for my mom to threaten a visit once a month.”

Cool, cool. Okay, so, not to be one of those people, but what’s your star-sign? Or zodiac sign, whatever you want to call it.

“Pisces,” she answered over her shoulder, picking though other albums now. “March third.” Emmy’s hand lifted and she gestured nonchalantly, “Apparently that’s why I’m a cry baby. Water sign.” In truth, she didn’t know much about astrology, save for her frequent use of the #piscesproblems hashtag and fleeting obsession with Co-Star and it’s ominous daily reminders. One of the push notifications had told her to get rid of something one day, and she’d done herself the favour of simply deleting the app.

Fair enough. I’m a Pisces and, like, we’re known for getting our heartbroken. Anyone or anything break your heart lately?

“Oh my god, you too? I knew I liked this place. We’re Pisces babies, we’ve got to stick together.” Her smile faded as the question changed in mid-flight. “I guess it’s not super recently, but my college boyfriend broke up with me last year,” (it was 10 months and 14 days ago, but who was counting?), “And it totally blindsided me. I literally thought we were going to get married. I’ve kind of been just living my life since then. Vibing, reclaiming my twenties, going on terrible Hinge dates at least once a week. You know, the New York dream.”

Sorry to hear it. Well, we’re here for you. That’s why we have a bell over the door. Heard it helps with broken hearts because angels get their wings or some shit. I dunno. You got any weird superstitions?

“Only the normal ones,” Emmy’s tone was certain, as if all strange superstitions had a measure of what was acceptable and not. “I don’t open umbrellas inside, sing songs out of season, or take pictures with only three people in them.” She laughed, catching the strange glance she got. “That one’s from my dad, apparently the third person in the picture’ll die. It made family portraits super weird, we had to borrow the neighbour’s kid to run in the back of them every year.” She finally selected the first Beastie Boys album she had been toying with, stacking a Radiohead one on top. “The bell thing is cute though, isn’t that from that black and white Christmas movie?”

Thanks for humoring a complete stranger, my dude. You get a discount on whatever you buy if you tell me your favorite song.

She let out a breath, as if she’d just been asked the hardest question in the world. “God, I mean right now I’m totally obsessed with Lewis Del Mar. They’re from Queens and so talented. I can’t stop listening to that one song, Painting. I bought their album here like, a few months ago. Best purchase I made since my friend convinced me to try the Mekelburg’s chicken sandwich.” Emmy put her things on the counter. “So what kind of discount are we talking about?”

[knybits]

A Murder of One

Chapter: 

2

Summary: 

The New Year comes, and Akiko mourns with a new incentive in mind. Akiko remembers to find solace within another person, but she continues to drown in her thoughts. 

Previous Chapter | Origin | Next Chapter

“You better get your daughter under control!” 

“She’s your granddaughter!” 

“Hiratsuka… Let’s retire for the night, plea...”

Akiko hears no more as she slams the front entrance shut, tears streaming down her face like a broken dam. Her eyes shine under the house’s entrance lamp and she can hear the mention of topaz.

Villagers stop for a moment to whisper about Akiko before she shoots them a glare. They jump slightly before rushing off, continuing their gossip over why Akiko has returned from Tokyo wearing such mournful garb. 

It’s hard for Akiko to breath, and she’s freezing on this New Year’s night. 

“God this sucks,” She grumbles out, trudging down the streets of the village, drenching her poor choice of footwear with snow. 

Every time she looks up, she sees traces of herself with Tanjirou, and she blames her cursed eyes. 

The two giggling and laughing as they try to convince villagers to buy some coal. 

The two giggling and laughing as they share a bowl of udon they worked so hard to earn. 

The two giggling and laughing as they play with some stray cat. 

Akiko shuts her eyes from the world for a moment, hugging herself close to retain some heat as her tears freeze the minute she produces them. They hurt her face, but, as cliche as it sounds, Akiko finds that the pain in her chest is more unbearable. 

“Oh! S’that you Akiko?” A voice calls out. Akiko looks to her side to find that it’s one of the kinder villagers, older with a face more worn with worry over the constant need for money. 

“Baa-chan,” Akiko greets, but the villager frowns at her tone of voice. 

“C’mon in hun. I’ll make you some toshi-koshi soba, hm?” 

Akiko  is ushered in despite her feeble protests, but what’s she gonna do? 

Freeze? 

She can only hope. 

Baa-chan quickly fans the flames of the fire before scooping some broth into another bowl, dropping some mochi and buckwheat noodles. She forces Akiko to take off her wet socks before leaving them close to the fire place, then slides the bowl of toshi-koshi soba over to the girl. 

Akiko’s face warms as she places it over her steaming bowl, attempting to smile for baa-chan. 

“Do y’need ‘nother blanket? Your socks’ll take a while to dry by the fire, but I have spare ones if y’like. Your toes ’r so blue!” 

Akiko winces, reminded of the blue scarf she knitted Tanjirou for Christmas once. 

Though not a Japanese holiday, Akiko wanted to get him a present anyway. 

She stuffs her face with the soba, shaking the memory from her mind in respect for baa-chan. 

Akiko is wordlessly given seconds, and she really doesn’t want to eat, but the look baa-chan gives her is enough for Akiko to give up. Her stomach crawls at the thought of actually putting food into her mouth, but Akiko can’t tell if it’s out of joy or disgust. 

She hasn’t been able to stomach anything as of late, but that might be because she hates the Tamura manor. Traces and memories of Tanjirou linger within the manor, and the thought of him reminds Akiko of the rotting house and the puddles of blood. 

Nevertheless, she’s hasn’t eaten all week, and her grandma isn’t around. Baa-chan is far nicer, and it’s New Years after all. 

“Care to explain why you’s walkin through this snow at night?” Baa-chan interrupts Akiko, who hesitates a few seconds before slurping the rest of her soba. 

“Was it your grandma?” 

The face Akiko makes is enough of an answer, but she provides a verbal one anyway. 

“I told her to shut up after she kept bad mouthing Tanjirou and I,” Is Akiko’s simple reply, but saying his name is enough for her to choke up. She swallows the ball in her throat, but baa-chan offers Akiko a handkerchief to cry into for the third time. 

Baa-chan collects Akiko’s bowl before sighing, “You may not want t’hear this right now, but the villagers’ve been talking, so this one’s got information.” Akiko blows her nose in a highly unladylike fashion, to which baa-chan smirks at. 

City life, huh.

“Villagers say the Kamado family was killed by a man with a blue katana, scruffy black hair tied back into a low ponytail, y’know? His eyes are blue, but the most distinct part about him’s the two patterned haori. One side red ‘n the other orange ‘n green. He was spotted round the house some time near the murder, but those’r  just rumors dear.” 

Baa-chan looks over at Akiko, who has been eerily quiet the whole time. Not a muscle moving, but her face shadowing over with a look that baa-chan has never seen on Akiko’s usual joyous face. 

“...Dear?” 

“Thank you for the meal, baa-chan. I have to go home now.” 

“O-Okay. Warm your toes up at home, alright?” 

“Happy new year.” 

 “Happy new year dear. Any plans for the new year?” 

Akiko slips her getas on, her socks left by the fire side. She pauses for a minute before carelessly  smiling back at baa-chan. 

“Mourn, I guess?” 

--- 

“Mama! Papa! I wanna go shop!” 

Hiratsuka and Ray look down at their little daughter, who pouts and stomps all over the new manor in Tokyo. 

“Ah, Akiko please stop. You’re ruining the new house already!” Hiratsuka frets over her little girl, and Ray swoops her up into his arms with a laugh. 

“Now why does my princess want to shop, hm?” 

“I wanna go with the maids! Food!” 

“Sentences, dear.” 

Akiko screams in her father’s arms, struggling to roll out, but Ray has a tight grip on her to prevent her from cracking her head open on the floor. Or, that’s what he’s trying his best to prevent (worst case scenario for a parent-wise). 

“I’ve been here all week! I wanna see Tanjirou! I don’t wanna go to some stupid school with other stupid boys! Let me go outside! I’m a big girl now, right?! Eight is big!!!” Akiko screams and kicks again and the exhausted couple sighs in defeat. 

“Mika, take Akiko shopping with you please.” Ray calls out, and Mika steps forward with a calm smile. 

Akiko is gently put down and Mika brushes the imaginary dust off of Akiko’s western styled dress, all frilly and poofy like. 

Ray crouches down next to Akiko, a hand on her shoulder.

“Now don’t get lost, okay? Stay by Mika and listen to her-” 

—-

“I’M LOST!!!!” 

Akiko cries by the side of the road, suddenly caught within a sea of strangers that brush by her without a second glance. 

There’s snot running down her nose and she’s gripping the hem of her dress, crocodile tears bubbling down her cheeks. 

She keeps hiccuping, wiping whatever fluids run down her face with her cotton sleeves and quickly ruining her dress. But she stays where she is, knowing that it’s her best chance at getting home quickly. 

“Are you okay?” A sweet voice brings Akiko’s attention up from the floor. 

The stranger’s hair is pink, reminding Akiko of the cotton candy she had at a circus in England a while ago. 

Akiko slowly shakes her head no, fumbling with the ends of her dress and pouting at the floor, trying her hardest to contain her tears. She wants Tanjirou to be here, holding her hand and reassuring her that things will turn out alright. 

The girl crouches down to Akiko’s level, a bright smile on her face as she offers Akiko a rice ball with a plum in it. 

“Will this cheer you up?” 

Akiko blankly stares at the rice ball, sniffling a few times before snatching the rice ball and stuffing it in her dress pocket. 

“What the-“ 

“It’s for my fiance,” Akiko says. 

“...Wouldn’t you rather eat it now?” 

“No.” 

“...Come with onee-chan, yeah?” 

So Akiko takes the girl’s hand, waddling through the crowded streets of Tokyo with her new ‘big sister.’ 

Akiko doesn’t say much during the walk, her mind blank as she tightly grips the girl’s fingers. 

She sees that they’re cut up and calloused, a bit dirty but that doesn’t bother Akiko considering her own hands are covered in snot and tears. 

“My name’s Kanon! How about you?” 

“Akiko.” 

Kanon smiles wryly at the girl, a bit thrown off by her sudden emotionless nature, but decides that Akiko is probably trying to reset her emotions after getting lost. 

They walk a bit more before arriving in front of a big building, other people going in and out. There are a lot of foreigners, and Akiko notices a business partner or two of her father’s. 

“Welcome to my family’s inn! Don’t let go of onee-chan’s hand, okay?” 

Akiko nods, sniffling once more before allowing herself to be tugged into the inn. 

It’s lively, to say the least. 

Japanese and foreigners alike are milling around the lobby, talking and joking with each other and discussing other things. Some are eating japanese food while others are eating western food, and one has a plate of Indian curry in front of them! 

It’s not extravagant and Akiko doesn’t see a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling like the hotel she stayed at in France, but it’s warm and Akiko likes how the atmosphere makes her feel. 

There are a few people by reception and well dressed men with women on their sleeves; what Akiko can identify as a busboy rushing down the stairs who takes notice of Kanon. 

“Ah! Kanon! You’re back!” He cries out, and Kanon ruffles his hair with her spare hand. 

The boy peeks from behind Kanon to look at Akiko, “Who’s this?” 

“She got lost, so I was gonna bring her into the kitchen and make her something. Bring me a map of Tokyo, wouldja?” 

Akiko is quiet as she follows Kanon into what seems to be the kitchen, where an older version of Kanon is working furiously. The little boy returns soon with a map, and Kanon thanks him before he’s off to work again. 

“So what’s your favorite food? Your onee-chan will cook you something good, yeah?” Kanon smiles, leaning across the steel counter. Akiko look up at the ceiling before replying. 

“Carrots.” 

“Huh?” 

“Carrots.” 

“...Onee-chan will try her best.” 

Akiko spends her time waiting by swinging her legs back and forth, staring at Kanon work with unblinking eyes. Kanon is bothered, but she won’t say so in fear that Akiko will burst into tears. 

A few minutes later, a plate of stew with a bunch of carrots is placed in front of Akiko to enjoy. 

Kanon waits for Akiko to start eating, hoping that it will be something that Akiko enjoys. 

“...I’m not allowed to eat something a stranger gives me.” 

“THAT’S WHERE YOU DRAW THE LINE?!” Kanon gives up, throwing her hands into the air in defeat. She collapses to the floor and Akiko finally cracks a smile. 

“But onee-chan’s stew is really really good!” 

Kanon brushes her pink hair from her face, processing Akiko’s happy expression as she quickly finishes her food, even going so far as to lick her plate clean. 

A soft smile makes its way onto her face before she stands, taking the map nearby and folding it out for Akiko to see. 

“Let’s get you home, okay Akiko?” 

—-

“Akiko!” Kanon, now 16, cries out before hugging the seemingly lifeless girl. 

Kanon hasn’t seen Akiko since the day Akiko left for the countryside in a hurry, forgetting the New Year plans the two had made. 

But with all the rumors going in and out of the inn (which houses a few of Ray’s business partners) Kanon knows that Akiko isn’t in the right state of mind after the death of her fiance. 

Her black kimono is proof of that fact. 

“It’s been months! Where have you been?” Kanon pulls away from the smaller girl, holding both her hands in her own. 

Akiko smiles weakly, “Sorry. I’ve been busy.” 

“But it’s March now! Have you been with your grandmother the whole time?” 

The guilty look is enough for Kanon to know, but Akiko musters enough courage to shake her head and tell her that she returned from the countryside a week after New Years. 

“I need time,” Is Akiko’s only other answer, and Kanon accepts it. 

Kanon leads the ginko eyed girl back into the kitchen, a bright smile on her face as she talks to Akiko about what’s been going on at the inn. Anything to get Akiko’s mind off of the incident, really. 

She’s cooking and Akiko’s listening, and while Akiko is at the inn, it feels like everything is normal and nothing could go wrong. 

Like nothing is wrong.

After some time, Akiko grows restless with her false sense of security and smiles weakly at Kanon, telling her that she should be on her way. 

Akiko has a cloth wrapped box of leftovers with her, the sky dark and the sea of lights illuminating the streets. Akiko stands out of the way of the other guests, waving Kanon good bye. 

“Get home safely, okay?” Kanon frowns with worry, reaching out to hold Akiko’s hand like usual. 

Her eyes widen with shock when Akiko quickly snatches her hand back, but the smile on Akiko’s face show as if there’s nothing wrong. 

“Mhm! Don’t worry, onee-chan. I’ll get home safe. Thanks for the food!” 

Kanon frowns before shaking her head, “You don’t get it Akiko. I’ve been hearing rumors of disappearances lately! I don’t want you to disappear, okay? Come back soon so we can talk some more!” 

Akiko smiles again before she’s off, and Kanon stares at the back of her best friend with worry. 

There’s a slight wobble in Akiko’s step, and her figure looks a lot frailer than before. Akiko’s lavish life doesn’t allow her to be as thin as all the other girls in Tokyo. 

But now? 

She’s nearly skin and bone, and there isn’t much Kanon can do to fix that. 

Akiko is doing this to herself. 

The grip on the box tightens as Akiko begins to think again, something she shouldn't really be doing these days. 

Her mind wanders now and everything around her becomes an absolute blur, faces passing by and voices intermixing with other voices. 

And the cycle repeats like the new broken record Akiko threw to the ground in a psychotic rage the other day. 

Maybe if she had begged her parents a little harder to go back to the countryside for the New Year, she could have prevented all of the deaths. 

Maybe if she had been there, she could have saved their lives with what small medical knowledge she has. 

Maybe if she studied harder. 

Maybe if she begged harder. 

Maybe if- 

“Tomioka-san? Is the demon near?” 

A butterfly pin floats past Akiko’s vision before her heart stops. 

“It should be right up ahead.” 

Dead navy eyes.

Black hair tied back into a ponytail. 

Blue katana. 

A two patterned haori.

Akiko’s liquid gold eyes stare right into the uncaring gaze of the man that killed her fiance. 

stranger danger akiko but whatever ig,,, let me cover up my shitty plot hole with a: her eyes tell her than kanao is a good person 

anyway thanks for waiting!! i actually wrote this a long time ago but ive been real shit with editting bc this chapter isnt as,,, difficult as the other ones and i still wanted to make sure it was entertaining ;-; 

but kanon is @kny-imagines‘s oc!! shes actually really important to the story despite the fact that i am NOT a fan of more than one ocs in a fic but uhm plz deal with my writing :,,) 

hope you guys stay tuned for the next update! idk when im gonna turn this story over to wattpad officially lmao 

[crosbys-guccifloral-crocs]

Helloooo, please can you write an imagine where Y/N and Harry were best friends at first then were a couple for almost 1 year and a half but break up and she’s now in relationship with a guy and he told her at a family dinner that he still loves her but she told him smt like “You were my real first love and love story, and I love you but I love him more. He’s the man of my life. But we can still be friends.” Something like this❤️

Warnings: not proofed. Angsty as hell, teen!harry, X factor!harry, best friend!harry.

 *** 

 Y/N and Harry shared everything: a street, toys, friends and even a birthday (Feb, 1, 1994) just as their mothers had. Given that they were also childhood best friends. Y/N and Harry had been friends for years — but then, the X Factor happened… Y/N hated those 3 words. They were the words that had changed the entire dynamic of their relationship; as both friends and as a couple. Well… as much of a “couple” as love sick 16 year olds could be. They’d dated for just over a year before he auditioned for the X Factor. They had been each other’s first everything: first kiss, first real person, first time and of course, first heartbreak. First he broke hers. It happened when news broke that he had made it past the first round of auditions.

“I made it, Y/N.” he’d said. It was totally casual and caught her by surprise. They were lying in his family’s living room in Holmes Chapel watching The Notebook with Gemma, Anne and Robin.

She shot up straight from her position on his lap.

“W-what?” She gasped.

“I made the X Factor.” He said, sitting up to pause the film.

“O-oh. That’s great! I knew you could do it, H!” She stammered hugging him close.

“We’re moving to London.” He mumbled.

“Wait… what?” She questioned.

“We’re moving to London, Y/N. as long as I’m in the competition I need to be on set, and because I’m not 18 mum and Robin need to be with me on set.” He murmured.

“Oh… well London’s only 3 hours away. I could come visit on weekends.” She quipped.

“I don’t know, love. That’s a pretty big commitment. We can’t even drive yet, and that’s a lot to expect from your parents.”

“You could just tell me you don’t want this anymore Harry. I don’t need your pathetic excuses.” She cried rushing out of the living room.

“Y/N, honey! Come back please!” Anne called out.

“BABY PLEASE!” Harry cried running barefoot down his cobblestone drive. But it was no use, she was gone.

Over the next few weeks before he left for London, H made every attempt to contact Y/N. He waited for her at her locker at school, outside of her classes, showed up at her doorstep every morning before school with his famous iced tea that she loved so much and everyday she would walk right past him as if he were some stranger passing her on the street. She’d even resorted to blocking his number on her mobile and not allowing her mother to answer their home phone when his number showed up on the caller ID.

Eventually he learned his lesson and stopped attempting to contact her. But not before he could leave a note in her locker before he left for London.

“Y/N,

I’m so sorry baby. I didn’t mean what I said the way it sounded. Please let me explain.

I love you,

H.”

——

It had been nearly 3 months since Harry had made any more attempts to contact Y/N, and she had made no attempts at all to reciprocate those attempts. But nonetheless, it still broke her heart to even think about Harry in the arms of another girl — let alone an older woman… not to mention a woman 14 years his senior! It was sickening. She tried her hardest not to pay attention to the rumours and wanted nothing more than believe they were false, but when every media outlet in the UK was reporting about the supposed relationship between “16 year old X Factor contestant Harry Styles and the host Caroline Flack, aged 30” the rumours became rather hard to ignore. But she had to see for herself, so one weekend, close to the show finale, she decided to take Anne up on one of her multiple offers to make the trip to London because “Harry was dying to see her.” She, Anne and Gemma decided to surprise Harry and meet him at Nando’s one evening to surprise him with her visit, only to see him show up hand in hand at the restaurant with her.

That’s when Y/N truly decided to let Harry go. She no longer tuned into the competition, deleted him on all social media and no longer hung-out with the friend group they shared at school. Instead she became a secluded introvert, only going from school to work.

—— 8 years later (January, 28, 2018) ——

It’s been 8 years since Harry and Y/N had physically laid eyes on one another. Not even at Robin’s wake or service. She went of course she did. He was almost as much of, if not more of a father to her than her own dad, she just sat in the back and only made her presence known to Anne and Gemma when Harry was no longer in the room. She decided to unblock his number for a short while and send him her condolences on Robin’s passing, but then she was back to ignoring him. That doesn’t mean that she’s a stranger to her ex boyfriend’s crazy success and scandalous relationships. She’s run into Anne now and again when she was out and about in Holmes Chapel visiting her mother. She also still had the occasional girl’s day in London with Gemma whenever their schedules meshed properly.

She’d moved there 6 years ago when she was 18 after being accepted to Oxford for (your choice in major). She decided to stay in town after she graduated, she received a job offer with a salary that was impossible to pass up just weeks after graduation.

Soon after she started her new job was when she met Kyle. The way they met was kind of serendipitous, if you will. She’d literally spilt her iced tea on him after they collided turning a corner on the street. They’d been inseparable ever since. He’s been her everything for the past 6 years. Which is amazing, considering she never thought she’d feel this way about another man ever again. Not after he broke her heart all those years ago. Anne and Gemma were happy for her, but would be happier if it were Harry she were still with. They liked Kyle enough though, he treated her well and that’s all they ever wanted for her.

Now, four days before their shared 24th birthday she’s sitting on the sofa in the flat she shared with Kyle trying to get Gemma off the phone.

“Gem, how many times do I need to tell you I. Don’t. Want. A. Party. 24 is no special occasion. I’m not 16, or 18 or 21. ‘M just another year older. Can’t we just go to Greece for a weekend? Just the 2 of us and the mums?” (Anne and Y/M/N). Y/N begs.

“Ugh. Fine. I guess, if that’s what you want. But are you sure you don’t want anything on your actual birthday? Y’know like dinner or summat?” Gemma questions.

“Um, no. I think Kyle’s taking me to Gordon Ramsey’s new restaurant in Chelsea that night. Think he wants it to be a surprise though. I over heard him making the reservation a few weeks back.”

“Oh yeah, I know the place. Fancy little bloke inn’he?” She giggles finding her own sense of humour rather amusing.

“Ha ha, Gem. Laugh it up. S’more than you can say H—-“ Y/N stops herself just before her friend’s brother’s name leaves her lips. “Never mind. Sorry. I didn’t mean that.” She retracts.

“No, Y/N, S’okay. I get it. Know he’s m’brother and what he did was a while back but it still makes him a wanker.” Gem agrees.

“Okay. I’ll call you in a few days to sort out the details of the trip, Gem. Talk soon.” Y/N smiles.

“Laters, baby.” Gemma laughs.

—4 days later, Birthday evening (Feb, 1, 2018) Gordon Ramsey’s restaurant.—

“Wow, Ky. This place is amazing, you shouldn’t have.” Y/N gasps as the hostess brings them to their table and informs them their server will be by shortly to take their orders.

“Course I should, love. S’not every day the girl you love turns 24.” Kyle smirks.

Just as the sommelier (wine expert) approaches their table.

“Excuse me, are you Miss. Y/L/N?” He questions.

“Um yes? What is this about?” She asks sheepishly, confused. Kyle himself seeming just as clueless.

“This is for you. Compliments of the gentleman over there at table 4. Enjoy your meal. This pairs lovely with the prime rib, if I do say so myself.” The wine master smiles as he departs from the table.

Y/N looks over Kyle’s shoulder to see the one and only Harry Styles smirking at her from across the dining room. “Happy Birthday, love” he mouths, lifting his own glass of wine in a “cheers” salute.

“If you’ll excuse me, Kyle I need to take care of something really quickly.” Y/N says, giving her date a tight lipped smile before marching over to Harry and hauling him up from the table by the cuff of his Gucci suit jacket.

“Oi, love. That’s no way to greet an old friend on his birthday is it?” Harry jabs as she continues to maneuver them out the main doors of the restaurant.

“First of all a $300 bottle of wine? Are you freaking kidding me, Harry? Second of all… s’tha’ all I am to you, an’ “old friend?” And third, how the bloody freaking ‘ell did you find me? Especially tonight of all nights?” She whisper yells as they gat far enough into the parking lot.

“One, happy birthday. I know you love that wine. He probably would’ve ordered you some cheap $50 merlot. Two, no love, yer much more to me than just and old friend. S’what I came ere to tell yeh. And three, I’m Harry freaken Styles, love. There’s nothin I can’t do. Not to mention Gordon owed me a favour after I performed at his daughter’s graduation last year. When Gem told me yer new bloke was bringing yeh ere tonight I decided to call in that favour.” Harry smiles, taking in the appearance of the girl he’s loved for the last 20 some-odd years of his life. The same one he hasn’t seen in nearly 8 years. But seeing her here, tonight looking gorgeous as ever in that tight black dress and killer Louboutins, with him?? Well that was a hell of a kick in the nads.

“Why did you really come here, Harry? Because I know it wasn’t just to give me expensive wine and say happy birthday. But if it was, happy birthday, Harry. Goodbye.” Y/N mutters, shaking her head and walking away.

“N-no, baby please! Don’t walk away. Not again.” He begs grabbing at Y/N’s wrist and pulling her into him. “Please, baby. I love you. Don’t walk away again. If you do, I don’t think I can take it.” He says, full on sobbing now and literally begging on his knees outside the busiest restaurant in the Chelsea district, not caring who sees him.

“Get up, Harry. You’re making a scene. Im not your baby anymore. I haven’t been for the last 8 years. And that was your choice. I loved you, but I love Kyle, now. I’d still like to be friends though, yeah?” Y/N says in an attempt to plaster a fake sad smile on her face and look away from Harry to wipe her own tears.

“Not Harry to you baby. ‘M anything but. What happened to H or babe or love or handsome?? Anything but Harry. That makes it too real. You know we can never be friends. We’ve been through too much.” He sobs, standing up to hug her again.

“M’sorry, H. I love Kyle and he’s inside waiting. I’m sure I’ll see you around yeah?” She says, releasing herself from his embrace and kissing his cheek before reentering the restaurant and leaving Harry out in the cold.

——

Fin?? But could definitely see this being a small series if you all like it! There are plenty of places I could go with this! xx M.

[delos-mio]

Silver Screen - Part 1

Summary: When you first met Thor, he was just a customer at your side gig. But after opening up to one another, your connection becomes more than skin deep. Will a new calling bring you closer together or drive a wedge too far deep to overcome?

A/N: Hi! Part one of my new Thor fic. The idea came to me the other night and I just got in a groove with these characters. Let me know how you’re feeling about it after reading- I’m a little anxious!! No warnings for this chapter except teeth rotting fluff.

***

It was the only theater left in town that showed old movies. Most of the pictures were in black and white or early color, but that’s what kept your niche clientele coming. Your family had owned the old building for years and kept it alive as a passion project of sorts. They had made sure everything was restored impeccably- true to the time down to the tiles on the floors and color scheme. It still had the original ornate woodwork around trim, both intricate and delicate. It didn’t pay the bills, but you always found time to go help out a few nights a week. Seeing people out on dates where they share popcorn and see classic flicks, you found something very romantic about that. Maybe it was just that you were a hopeless romantic, but it reminded you of those simple, classic, sweet sentiments that came with being in love.  

The first time you saw him, he stuck out like a sore thumb. For one, he was gigantic. He was easily six and a half feet tall and all muscle. His broad shoulders were confined tightly in the plain olive tee he was wearing under his jacket. For another, he was breathtakingly handsome. His strong jaw adorned with a short beard and high cheekbones set the stage for a perfect face. He had eyes like a tide pool, a deep and intense blue that could draw anyone in. And finally, he was Thor. You recognized him the moment he walked in. It was hard to miss a literal god in your lobby, let alone one who had saved the city on more than one occasion. You could tell he was trying to keep a low profile and seemingly lead a normal life, and you were going to let him do exactly that.

He walked right up to you at the concession stand, full grin on his face. “How are you doing this evening?”

“I’m doing pretty good myself. How about you?” you asked, beaming back at him.

“I’m well. Although, a little apprehensive about this whole thing.”

“This whole thing?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I was told that people like to go to movies in their spare time.” He leaned in across the counter and spoke in a low voice. “If I’m being honest, it’s my first time.” You looked back at him in disbelief.

“Well then you came to the right place! Ok, so, you need popcorn for sure. Do you like chocolate or fruity chewy candy?” you asked over your shoulder. You noticed he was staring at you, not in a weird or uncomfortable way, more in curiosity and wonder.

“I…I guess I’m not that picky. Whatever you think is best.” He shoved his hands into his pants pockets and smiled. If you weren’t mistaken, you thought he was being bashful. You didn’t want to give yourself too much credit, but you kind of hoped he was. You picked out a few other concessions and handed them over with a little bit of shyness of your own.

“Thank you…I’m so sorry, how rude of me. I’m Thor,” he said, holding his hand out. You put your palm against his and his enormous hand wrapped around yours, placing a light kiss on your knuckles. You introduced yourself and tried your hardest not to melt on the spot.

“It’s nice to meet you, but you better get going. Show starts in 2 minutes.” You winked and nodded towards the theater doors. He gave you a small wave before gathering his snacks and heading into the darkened room.

It was hard to wait the hour and a half runtime of the film. You found yourself wondering what he thought of the movie and what he liked best of all the things you gave him. Once the doors opened again, you watched as the crowd filed out, keeping your eyes peeled for the god among them. To your delight, he came out and walked right back up to you.

“I understand why people enjoy movies. It’s nice to just have a moment without worries.” He was smiling, but you noticed a small sadness in his eyes. It reminded you that he most likely had the weight of the literal world on his shoulders.

“I’m glad you liked it.” You thought about the words forming on your tongue for a moment before more or less blurting it out. “Think you’ll come back?” He let out a small laugh and flashed that magnificent grin again.

“Oh, absolutely,” he smiled. “I hope you have a lovely night,” he said before turning on his heel and making his way out of the glass front doors. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you just flirted with Thor. And, to your surprise, he also seemed to flirt with you.

And so it became a weekly tradition that Thor would come on Thursdays and see whatever happened to be playing. He didn’t seem to care what he’d be viewing, but you noticed he always liked the ones packed with action best and most of the ones with a sweeping romance. Every week, you’d give him a new candy until he ate his way through the selection and informed you of his preferences.

In recent weeks, he came earlier and earlier for the showing, spending his wait time talking with you across the counter. He’d pause and let you serve the few other patrons coming in for matinee showings, always polite and chatty with his new friends, as he called them.

He would tell you stories about Asgard and his family. Sometimes, if it was late and you were cleaning, he’d sit and talk to you about the war and about loss. Hearing about Ragnarok and the destruction of his only home absolutely broke your heart. Those nights were hard for both of you, but they also made you feel closer to each other. He’d tell you about the adjustment to living on Midgard, as he called it, and trying to learn a new set of customs. You’d let him in on weird little idiosyncrasies and teach him useful phrases that would make him sound less like a 17th century King to strangers.

There was something about him that made you comfortable. He made you feel important and valued. When you told him about your shitty landlord or how you ripped your favorite skirt, whatever petty drama you had, he listened intently and offered a remedy for your every problem. Sometimes, you felt bad about venting to him; you were sure he had much bigger problems than tripping up a set of stairs in front of your new neighbor. But he never once dismissed you.

One night when he came in, you noticed that he looked a little unlike himself. Usually when he came in, he was chipper and reminded you of the human equivalent of a golden retriever. Tonight, he seemed downtrodden and tired. As he approached, he gave you a small smile.

“Hey,” you said. It was the only thing you could think of in that moment.

“Hi. How has your week been?” He always started off asking about you.

“It’s been good. Thor, what’s wrong?” You didn’t want to talk about you. It was obvious something was on his mind and you needed to know what.

“It’s…Everything’s ok. Nothing’s wrong. I’m good,” he lied. You could see it in his eyes.

“I thought we were good enough friends not to lie to each other,” you lightly scolded. He smiled at that and ran his fingers through his short hair. It had grown out since you first met, but it was still much shorter than he’d like as he liked to remind you.

“It’s my brother.  It’s his birthday today and I don’t know,” he started, looking down at his hands that he was idly wringing together, “I guess I miss him. God, if he heard me say that, I’d never hear the end of it.”

“I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?” you asked, running your hand gently on his arm. You knew you should be focusing on his response, but you couldn’t help appreciating the solid marble of his bicep under your fingertips.

“When the movie’s over, do you think,” he started and then looked at you again, “do you think we could ‘hang out’” he asked, trying out his newly learned term. Your heart grew three sizes and you nodded your head.

“Of course we can. Come get me when you’re done and we can pick up food and go to my place,” you offered. He finally smiled for real for the first time since he came in. He put his free hand on top of the one you had on his arm and gave it a soft squeeze before walking in to see his movie for the week.

You did everything you could to clean up quickly and be ready to close the moment the movie let out. It took a lot of sweat, but you made it happen come hell or high water. He walked out with a handful of people and came back to you, shrugging into his jacket. “Are you ready, dear?”

The winter wind outside was whipping around your faces. You pulled you hat down over your ears and pulled at the collar of the jacket, trying to use it as a shield for your face. Thor seemed to be fine; he was strolling along side you in nothing more than a canvas jacket and hoodie. How did he do it? Then you remembered he was a literal god and probably didn’t have to worry about things like being cold.

“Can’t you, y’know, do something about this snow?” you asked, gesturing broadly at the sky around you. He howled with laughter and shook his head.

“It doesn’t work like that, I’m afraid,” he grinned. “But, I could help a bit if you’d like,” he suggested and opened up an arm to you. For a moment, you stopped and looked at him, searching his face for any sign of a joke. Finding none, you quickly tucked yourself into his side and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, doing his best to shield you from the elements and provide some warmth. It was working. Maybe it was feeling giddy about being so close to Thor, but you were already starting to feel better about the 10 block walk back to your apartment.

You stopped to grab a pizza, or two, along the way and finally made it to your 5th floor apartment. It was small, but big enough for just you. However, seeing Thor in your foyer made the place feel like a matchbox. He shrugged out of his jacket and stepped out of his sopping boots in the doorway before continuing to your living room, giving the place a once over. He looked content as he scanned over your photographs and small trinkets. Watching him analyze your things made you smile; it was nice to see someone appreciate your space besides you.

“I uh, I’m still in my work clothes,” you interrupted quietly. “Do you mind if I quick change out of them?” Thor turned to look at you with a soft look in his eyes.

“Take all the time you need,” he replied. You hurried into your bedroom and opened your closet. Shit. You didn’t even consider what you’d be changing in to. Was this a date? No. No, he asked you to hang out. If you went out looking too hot or fancy, you’d no doubt embarrass yourself. A big part of you wanted to just throw on your trusty house sweats and hoodie and call it a day. But you didn’t want him to think you weren’t interested in hanging out or him. You groaned quietly to yourself as you sifted through your pile of clean clothes, desperate for anything that would work. Finally, you settled on a pair of yoga leggings and a favorite zip up of yours. A compromise you could live with. When you walked back out, Thor was sitting comfortably on your couch, thumbing through the book you had left on your armrest.

“Can I get you a drink or anything? Sorry, I think I only have water and beer,” you laughed uncomfortably, walking to the fridge. You would have planned a little better if you knew you’d be having company.

“A beer is great,” he called back. You popped the cap of two bottles and brought the pizza over to your coffee table. You two clinked bottles as he spoke, “To Loki.” He finished the bottle in one drink and let out a sigh.

“There’s plenty more in the fridge, if you want,” you laughed. He took your invitation to grab another and twist the cap off easily without the aid of the bottle opener you left out. Watching his fingers effortlessly rip metal from glass lit a fire low in your stomach. It was going to be harder than you thought to be just friends outside of work.

You drank beer after beer together and ate way past the point of being full. Talking to him was effortless; it was easy to be yourself and feel like he wasn’t going to judge you for speaking freely. Truth be told, you were starting to feel the buzz off the IPAs you’d be throwing back. Every part of you wanted to be closer to him in every sense. The way he laughed and told stories and how his eyes squinted when he smiled was making you crazy. You were sitting in the corner of your couch, legs bent and resting on the cushion next to you. The beer started talking to you, telling you to open your mouth and ask him the question that had been on your mind since the second time he came into the theater.

“Can I ask you something,” you asked from behind your beer bottle, afraid you’d lose your nerve if you had to look him in those bright blue eyes.

“You know you can ask me anything,” he smiled, putting his large hand on your calf. Shit, here goes nothing.

“Why…Why do you come see me every week? I know for a fact you’ve seen every movie we show by this point,” you asked shyly. He turned his head to look at you, his features soft and a small smile forming on your lips.

“Does it bother you? Would you like me to stop?” he teased.

“No!” you answered a little too quickly. “No, it’s the best part of my week.” It felt good to tell the truth.

“Well, you’re my friend,” he said as a matter of fact. Fuck. You took your shot and tossed up an air ball. Your stomach started to hurt as what he was saying sank in. But then he started to speak again. “You’re also very beautiful. I’ve thought so since the first time I came in.” A warmth spread across your face as you bit down on your bottom lip. Did Thor just say he thought you’re pretty?

“I wouldn’t kick you out of bed either,” you said, giving him a small smile. He looked at you with his brows furrowed, trying to figure out what you meant. “Oh, god I’m sorry. It means I think you’re hot too,” you clarified. His brows relaxed and his eyes did that sweet little crinkle around the corner.

“Thank you for spending time with me tonight. It’s not often someone I trust is around to listen,” he said, his grip on your calf getting firmer as he dragged your legs over his lap, moving you closer to him on the couch. Your heart started to race as you leaned into his side, letting your head rest on his firm shoulder. “I appreciate you helping me. Now, can I ask you something?” he said, rubbing his palm up and down the side of your leg.

“Mhmm,” was all you could manage choke out.

“I’d rather not be alone tonight. Would it be ok if I stayed here?” he asked sweetly, his deep voice low in your ear. “I can sleep out here, if you’d be more comfortable…”

“Don’t be silly. Yeah, of course you can stay with me,” you interjected. You removed your legs from him and stood up, your hand stretched out to him. “It’s late.” He looked you over from head to toe and put his large hand around yours.

He followed behind you down the hallway, still hand in hand. The pounding in your chest hadn’t slowed at all. In fact, it had only gotten stronger by the time you were standing at the foot of your bed. You dropped his hand and moved over to your side, shedding your zip up along the way. When you turned back to look at Thor, his shirt was already off and piled on the floor. Whatever you had seen in your day dreams about him shirtless was nothing compared to how he looked bedroom. He looked like a god carved from marble; you already knew he was a god, but he really, really looked like one. You picked your jaw up off the floor and crawled underneath your duvet, waiting not so patiently for Thor.

“Do you mind?” he asked gently, reaching for his belt buckle and looking at you for permission. You nodded your head and he stepped out of his dark jeans, finally exposing his muscular legs. He climbed in next to you so you were facing each other and burrowed into his pillow. The action made you smile and laugh a little under your breath. He didn’t miss your reaction and moved a bit closer to you. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s not funny. It’s just…” oh, what the hell, you thought, “you’re so cute.” If you didn’t know any better, you would say he blushed.

“C’mere,” he said quietly and lifted his arm, creating a space for you to tuck yourself into. You wasted no time closing the distance between your bodies and pressed against his chest. He closed his arm around you and started to rub your back softly. You rested your forehead against his and moved your palm to run over his beard, scratching along the way. He let himself lean into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut. It was still outside and quiet in the dark of your room. The only sounds were the hum of the radiator and your breathing. You were totally at ease in Thor’s arms, and he gave every indication that he felt the same way.

“Thank you again,” he whispered, his lips only inches from yours. You just smiled and brushed the tip of your nose against his affectionately. The air felt like it was buzzing around your bodies; you didn’t know if it was just you feeling so giddy about finally being in his arms or if it was emitting from Thor himself. Either way, there seemed to be a pull bringing you even closer together. It felt like his lips were moving closer and your stomach was in knots. You boldly decided to close the gap and lightly pressed your mouth to his, your lips melting together perfectly. His beard scratched your chin gently as you kissed him again. It felt like the first time you were really, truly kissed. Every feeling of adoration and comfort and trust was being poured into one another. It left you breathless when you finally broke apart. He looked at you with his dazzling blue eyes that still seemed to sparkle in the dark of night, his expression soft and a wide smile on his face. “We should probably go to bed,” he grinned.

“Are you sure you don’t want to make out more?” you asked, biting down on your bottom lip.

“I do want to. And that’s why we have to go to sleep,” he laughed.

“Ugh, you’re right. Ok, you win,” you groaned flopping dramatically onto your back. But Thor followed you, carefully hovering over you and placed one more deep kiss on your lips.

“Sweet dreams,” he smiled. This time, you took him into your arms and let his head rest comfortably on your chest, his arm snaked around your waist. You gently ran your fingers through his short hair until you both drifted off to sleep.

[grimlegate]

Of Somewhat Similarities

              Sunlight filtered unevenly through thick, waxy leaves, bathing the ground in cool sanctuaries of shadows. Footsteps echoed across the stone walkway, the steady murmur of conversation; of people on their phones, of short talks between friends, or the long meandering stories that escaped the lips of passers-by. Even the sound of the station below-ground made its way to the surface, the voice on the speaker, the doors sliding open and shut.

              Most of the buzz that fell upon perceptive ears was the same, excitement bubbling up in the eyes of the public as they eagerly awaited the Sports Festival, and the would-be heroes that would be suddenly shoved into the limelight. Smooth, bobbed hair flitted around as its owner’s head shook from side to side, looking around at the clusters of people, and hearing the excitement filter towards them.

              “Ohhh! Do you hear all of them, Iida? They’re all talking about us! We’re gonna be the ones up on the stage tomorrow, and they’re gonna see all of us – are you nervous? Are you excited?” The brunette’s excited attitude was unfortunately infectious to the stoic classmate beside her, the teen reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck.

              “A little bit of both, to be honest. It’s a very big deal, and everyone is going to be trying their best. It’s a little daunting.”

              “Oh, Iida, you worry too much!” She chirped, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll do great! If they’re all gonna try their hardest, we have to, too!”

              “Hey, those uniforms – you guys are from UA, right?” Their attention snapped back to the world around them, heads spinning to the perched form on one of the railings nearby. Iida’s hand snapped up, and Uraraka sighed, knowing that the poor stranger was in for a lecture.

              “There are perfectly good benches for that sort of thing, you’d get into big trouble if a police officer sees you.” The other teen looked down at his impromptu seat, nodding sagely for a moment before slipping down, giving the other a polite smile.

              “Oh, I guess you’re right.” He gave the pair a look up and down, taking in their features for a moment before rocking on his heels slightly. “So, as I was saying – you go to UA, right?”

              “Yup! We’re a couple of first years, but we’re gonna be some of the best heroes that you’ve ever seen!” The girl cheered, bumping her hip into Iida playfully, the boy sighing despite the quirk of a smile on his lips.

              “First years? So, you’ll be in the festival tomorrow… Are you nervous? I wouldn’t blame you… Being out in front of all those people would terrify me.”

              “Well, a little, but mostly I’m excited! I get to show off all the cool skills I’ve learned during class!”

              “Uraraka, we’re going to be late if we keep this up –“

              “Oh, give it a rest, Iida! Mister Aizawa is always late, besides, it’s not polite to just leave a conversation like that!”

              “I… suppose you are right, in both regards for that matter.”

              “Uraraka? Iida? You’re students in 1A aren’t you? You guys have been all over the news lately. Pretty impressive if you ask me, you’re already on your way to becoming proper heroes, being in the spotlight and all.”

              His eyes slipped over them again, taking in the appearances that he had only heard about. The odd little whorls on the girl’s fingertips, and the way the other’s calves misshaped the leg of his pants. His eyes darted back up to the other boy’s face, giving him a pleasant smile.

              “Y’know, Iida, you’ve got a pretty impressive quirk. It kinda reminds me of Ingenium.” He hummed, his finger lightly grazing along the notebook in his hand. The taller of the pair jolted for a moment before clearing his throat, looking almost bashful at the compliment, and comparison.

              “That’s not to be unexpected, Tensei’s my brother, after all.”

              “Really? That’s awesome!” The freckled cheeks swelled as a smile split his face, the boy leaning back against the railing he had been sat upon. “It must be pretty cool to have such a well-known hero as your older brother… Y’know… I’ve always wanted to meet a professional hero like him. I know he’s busy and all, but wouldn’t it just be so cool to have his autograph?”

              Uraraka nodded, and even Iida had a hard time shooting down the idea. After all, how could he, when he lionized his own brother? When he aspired to be everything he was and more? Though, both of them turned back to the green-haired teen when he let out a wistful sigh, staring up to the cover of leaves overhead.

              “Although… if I’m being honest?” He mused, bringing his gaze back down to lock eyes with Iida… Oh, yes… He could see the resemblance now. In the crooked way their eyebrows darted back at the end, the same undertone of navy that shone when the light hit their locks just right. Down to the strong jawline, ever prevalent in the way each clenched their teeth.

              Regardless of in pain, or in slight annoyance at being late.

              Even the shape and color of their eyes, that Deku had found fascinating, while he had crouched at the wall beside the armor-clad man, piecing together every piece of the regalia, every way in which he squirmed. The serrated blade piercing through his spine was plenty enough to keep him pinned, the red scarf of his accomplice fluttering annoyingly within eyeshot as his fingers worked to scribble down every piece of information he could on the hero.

              Deku stepped forward away from the rail, moving a hand to pat Iida on the shoulder, giving him a smile that was far more teeth than strictly friendly, moving past him sluggishly into the crowd.

              “I just wouldn’t have the courage to ask him.”

[wroteasongabouther]

fratboy!harry - part 3

thanks for all the love so far guys!! get over to my ask box and request any kinda blurb from this college world i’m living in or any questions you’ve got either!

fratboy!harry tag >> story page

First week of classes and you already felt like dropping out. When you got here to your second year of uni, you were excited but now you were trying your hardest to write out even a page of notes during this lecture. Scribbling down another point from your professor, you blink a few times at your page and try to comprehend what you wrote. After a moment, you shake your head and look back up to the front.

Only a few minutes pass by, and one more point is written on your notebook, when your phone lights up beside you. It’s a notification from Snapchat, from a certain someone who can’t seem to leave you alone these days it seems. You bite down on your bottom lip to quit from smiling at Harrys name - which of course he added an angel emoji after, makes total sense since he’s the furthest thing from an angel. 

Snaps from Harry consisted of a few things. Sometimes they were selfies - both hot as hell or making stupid faces. Other times it’s artistic, using the pen tool in any colour to make a masterpiece that makes you laugh every time. As you tap your screen, you find out it’s the latter of the two predictions your had. 

Harry too was in his morning lecture, sitting rather close - which you know wouldn’t have been his choice. His professor is an older man wearing glasses and dressed in pants just a little too high, he’s reaching to write on the white board to finish an equation. Harry snapped the picture and coloured away on it. Having a stick figure grasping the prof from behind, seagulls above him, and Harry draws a big white boat for the prof to stand on with ‘TITANIC’ on the side. The caption read ‘I’ll never let go Jack’, and Harry had you chuckling in the back of your class yet again. 

You double tap his name and get the front facing camera, rolling your eyes and hitting the screen to take a photo. After putting a filter over it and typing out ‘Forever shipping them’ - pun intended - you set down your phone and look back to your professor. You’re not completely surprised when Harry responds rather quickly. 

“Hey,” a voice whispers from beside you. You look up and see a bright white toothy smile from the boy sitting beside you. “Did you need notes from today?” He asks, it’s a nice gesture considering you barely had any from the whole lesson today. 

“Uh, yeah,” you nod while looking over at his Macbook, full of notes it seems, “that’d be really great actually,” 

“I could email them to you, if you’d like? I just noticed you were kinda out of it today,” he gives you another smile while clicking a few times to share his notes from today. 

As you type out your email in his laptop, he’s watching you - you could just tell. Once you put in your info, you lean back in your seat and take your turn to watch him. He’s cute, short brown hair, brown eyes, great arms, definitely a football player if you were to take a guess. As an email notification comes on your phone, you get the name of the stranger beside you.

“Thanks, James,” you say with a smile.

“No problem, Y/N,” he says. 

He’s about to talk more to you when your professor raises their voice to remind the class about the assignment due at the end of the week - which was two days away. You shut your eyes and tilt your head back, knowing very well you hadn’t even started the assignment. Looks like you were about to pull another late night.

Class ends and you sit back in your chair while getting your things together. You can see James taking his time beside you. Everything inside of you was hoping he wasn’t about to stick around and flirt your ear off. Thankfully, god was on your side today, and James simply threw his backpack on. 

“See you around,” James says. 

“Yeah, thanks again for your notes,” you smile and give him a quick wave before he walks off. 

As you’re walking out of the lecture room you open Harry’s snap. This time it’s a selfie, the angle working well for his jawline of course, with the caption reading ‘Punny one’. You snap a blurry selfie of you smiling and respond ‘Thanks I’ll be here all week’ before making your way to the closest coffee shop - Starbucks near the main doors of the building.

It was only 10:30 and you were going to need a venti size iced coffee to survive your next and final class for today. So with your coffee in hand, you scroll around on your phone and walk across campus to your next lecture hall. The sun’s shining high in the clear blue sky, the heat getting to you as you get only half way to your class. You unzip your sweater and set down your backpack on the ground to slip out of your sweater, tying it around your waist.

Once you’re back on your way, you get another snap from Harry. The snap is blurry, but you know who it’s of - zoomed in as you fix your hair after tying your sweater at your hips. It was a good picture, flattering of your body honestly. Harry’s artistic skills are flames around you this time.

“Creep,” you mumble to yourself before sending a snap - eyes rolling and swiping a filter on.

Thank god for that coffee, or else you wouldn’t have made it through your class. After grabbing lunch, sitting with your laptop open while going over some notes and eating a sandwich, you decide to head to the library to get started on that assignment you hadn’t touched yet. As you walk through the rather busy building, you notice a familiar figure.

Harry is sitting on a couch, notes beside him while he wrote in another note book. He looks focused, brows pulled together while he rolls his lips into his mouth. A week later, and you still couldn’t stop thinking of how hot he was. You two had only bumped into each other once after he drove you to your dorm - first day of class, very brief but very flirtatious. Otherwise it was Snapchats or text messages, never really planning to see each other either. Not that you were completely complaining, but you were sort of happy to see him sitting there alone.

You must’ve been standing still for too long. Harry’s eyes slowly lift up, finding you a few feet away. You catch those dimples immediately and chuckle while walking towards him. Dressed in a mustard yellow vintage looking tshirt, black jeans with a rip in one knee, vans upon his feet and a mess of hair atop his head - he sure did look good.

“Hey,” you say once you’re standing in front of him.

“Long time no see,” Harry smiles.

“Been busy, classes are really kicking my ass,” you sigh and feel the weight of your backpack.

“Sit,” Harry orders, pushing his notes aside for you to join him at the other side of the couch he had taken to himself. For a moment you second guess it, thinking of declining and finding your own space far away from the hot frat boy. But instead you nod once and plop down on the couch.

“Whatcha working on?” You ask while unzipping your backpack.

“Network algorithms,” Harry answers in a monotone voice as he goes back to his work. Your eyebrows fly up at his words, you were expecting something like some bullshit business class. Not network algorithms that was for sure.

“What are you majoring in?” You question. Harry looks up from his work and brings both his arms back to stretch behind him. Again, it was pretty hot.

“Computer sciences and programming,” he answers.

“Actually?” You can’t seem to register that this hot Brit who you met at his fraternity house while drinking beers all night was in computer sciences.

“Uh yeah,” Harry chuckles and scratches the back of his head, “what did ya think I was doing?” He asks, a smug look on his face as he seems to gather the fact you’re rather impressed with his choice of degree.

“Open studies, probably just here for some athletic program,” you shrug.

“Well, y’got half it right,” Harry smiles.

“So, you’re like really smart or something like that?”

“Yeah, got the brains and the beauty,” Harry winks. And there’s that cocky frat boy you knew. Rolling your eyes, you focus back to your things and open up your laptop to find your assignment.

Harry doesn’t say anything for the few minutes it takes for you to set yourself up, instead he just watches you with his dimples on display. And once you’re all situated, Harry goes back to his algorithms. Only about twenty minutes pass before you’re over thinking everything and lean back against the arm of the couch with a big sigh. It should be relatively easy, but somehow your prof has you all confused. 

“Anything I can help with?” Harry asks, causing you to look away from your laptop, “now that y’know I’m so smart, you should really take advantage of it, little bird,” 

“Take advantage of you, huh?” you joke, flipping the switch and you smirking at him this time. 

Harry isn’t as quick with a comeback as you thought he’d be. Instead he sticks his tongue out to lick his lips before adjusting how he’s sitting on the couch. When he’s eyes are back on you, they are just as desirable and flirtatious as usual. You give him a big smile of triumph - you had just made Harry speechless. 

“What are you working on?” Harry asks. 

“An assignment for History of Psychology,” you state, eyes back on the description of the assignment, “my prof just sucks at explaining some things,” you add while scanning over your notes to find what this assignment was even for.

“Who do you have?” 

“Professor McGallen,” you frown. 

“Oh yeah, had him in my first year,” Harry states while grabbing a half full water bottle from the floor beside him, “he’s a real pain sometimes,” 

“Big time,” you sigh and glance back at the assignment, “I’m sure I’ll figure this out, I’m not like really struggling in the class and it’s the first bit of work so it should be easy, right?” 

“I believe in you,” Harry smiles. You narrow your eyes at him, wanting to roll them at his cheesy line. Instead you grab your pen and notebook and prop up one knee to be able to write. 

Another hour goes by with the both of you hard at work. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t glance over at Harry when you got a chance. It was only fair though, because Harry did the same thing. Didn’t take an idiot to know there was plenty of tension between you two - the sexual kind, to be exact. You bite down on your pen while working out some of the notes James had emailed you earlier and get going. All is well, till a group of rumbustious guys walk up towards the couch you and Harry were seated at a while later.

“Harry, my man,” a large man - tall and muscle wise - came out of nowhere with two more behind him. You notice he has some large tattoo on his dark skin, he wore a white hat backwards and was dressed in all black. He was pretty attractive too, couldn’t deny it. 

“Hey guys,” Harry smiles and give each of them one of those half assed bro high five hug things. And after each one, the three boys all look your way. 

You lift up a hand and give them a short wave. Talk about awkward, something told you these were just a few of Harry’s frat brothers, and something else told you Harry wasn’t the kinda guy to just casually hang out with a girl. 

“Uh, guys this is Y/N,” Harry introduces you to his friends, “this is Eddy, Mark, and Brandon,” he runs through each of their names quickly. 

“Lovely to meet you, missy,” Eddy, the large man who decided shouting in the library was cool, coos out while grabbing ahold of your hand and placing a kiss to the back. 

“You too,” you chuckle at his gesture. 

Brandon and Mark just stare before bringing up some sort of time change for their morning practice - so you were right, Harry did some sort of sport here. Only made sense though, since he was your typical hot frat boy, not adding jock to that description would just be absurd. The boys continue to be rowdy as you try your hardest to stay focused on your assignment, which you had barely done half of through the couple hours here now. 

“Heard Lins is pretty pissed with you lately,” Eddy says to Harry, you glance up through your lashes to look at the boys again. Eddy is nudging Harry, his brown eyes wide as he makes it seem like whoever this Lins person is being pissed is a real bad thing. 

“Lindsey? Wasn’t she literally over just last night?” Brandon asks, furrowing his brows at Harry. 

Why did it feel like someone just stabbed you in the gut? You swallow and tuck a piece of hair behind your hair. You catch Harry’s eyes flashing towards you, but you’re quick to look back at your laptop and act as if you weren’t listening in. You shouldn’t be so surprised, of course Harry had girls at his feet. 

“Y’know, it’s Lindsey,” Harry says - how very vague of him. 

And why were you suddenly so angry? You bite the inside of your bottom lip and type out a sentence for your assignment. Eddy lets out a hollowing laugh, slapping Harry’s shoulder before leaning forward as he sat on the arm of the couch. 

“You’re fucking crazy, man,” Eddy laughs. 

“Hey, Lindsey may be a handful but she’s fucking hot,” Mark states. 

The others all say some sort of agreement, while Harry just keeps quiet and nods once. You don’t even notice how much and how roughly you’re biting on your bottom lip till you taste the tangy blood in your mouth. As the boys keep talking beside you, you decide it’s time you left. Wether it was their obnoxious voices in the library or this talk of who Harry’s sleeping with, but you wanted to leave now. 

“Oh, no, don’t leave,” Eddy says as he notices you packing up, “we’re leaving soon anyways,” he adds. 

“No, it’s fine, really,” you stuff your laptop into the big pocket of your bag before zipping it up and grabbing your phone from the couch cushion. “I’m getting hungry anyways and have food in my dorm I should eat,” you say with a tight smile. It wasn’t a lie, but it was a good cover up. 

“Oh, okay,” Eddy smiles back and nods while jumping around to take your seat beside Harry now. “See ya around, missy,” he grins. 

“See ya,” you wave and just before you’re about to walk off, you look at Harry. 

He rolls his lips into his mouth, wetting them, before speaking, “text you later, good luck with the assignment,” he says. 

“Yeah, bye,” you mumble out before turning on your heels and leaving behind the bitter feeling that couch was giving you since a certain conversation had begun. 

As you are walking out into the fresh air outside, your phone vibrates in your hand. You expect it to be Harry, for some odd reason, but are proven wrong as you see it’s a notification for an email. Squinting as the setting sun gets in your eyes, you check being crossing the street that your dorm building was on before opening your phone to check the email. It’s from James. 

A smile tugs on your lips as you read it, ‘how are the notes treating you? need any more pointers?’, how thoughtful. You type out a quick reply ‘maybe, tomorrow after class?’

Once you’re inside your dorm, throwing your backpack on your bed and then flopping down beside it, you get a response from James. He agrees to sticking together after class for some help, and you’re actually really thankful because his notes from today were a lot more helpful than yours were from the rest of the week. Plus, thinking of James got out the thoughts of Harry and some crazy chick named Lindsey.

[depitydoda]

Jericho walked along the city street, following the streetlights the lit his way, his own footsteps echoed through the alleyways he passed. The usual rustle and bustle of the night life was silenced due to the growing fear of what lurks behind the corner. Even the most hardened night crawlers stayed in tonight and locked their door.

The local police had released new information on the bodies of a serial killer in the area, due to the brutality of their deaths the media has called the killer the California Cannibal. Jericho was guessing that the elbow room was a product of that statement. It was unnerving seeing the streets barren, even at this time of night, people still were as lively as ever. Despite this empty streets didn’t bother him to much, it made what he was doing easier.

Once reaching a wide alleyway he stopped and inspected it. “Dark, creepy, and looks as if it might have orphaned a young billionaire, yep, boxes all checked.” He then reached into his hoodie pocket and called a friend, knowing he wasn’t going to pick up, “Hey Marcus this is JJ, remember that thing you told not to do because you said it was dangerous and life threatening. Wellll, I was already in the area, and being the good citizen that I am, I figured a picture of the supposed ‘California Cannibal’ would really help the cops find the guy.” He paused for a moment and looked blankly into the seemingly endless alleyway, “And if I do happen to be wrong, which I doubt, and end up in this mornings news headless instead of a headline, then, I’m sorry for... everything really. Goodbye mate.” Hanging up, Jericho silenced his phone and held it up with a lighter in the other hand. Camera ready, he entered the alleyway without a second thought.

~~~~~~~~~

Jericho knew he was walking in an alley, yet he couldn’t help feel he was trekking through an endless cavern. One could say they both were equally as dangerous at this point. Once reaching the midpoint Jericho stopped and sat down. All he had to do now was wait, which was probably the hardest part. There, in the shadow of the night, he waited. Every sound sent jolts of electricity down his spine. Even with the lights of the city, Jericho felt surrounded by darkness. He never felt like this in the city, he always felt like he was apart of something. But now, all he felt was loneliness and fear. He didn’t know how much time has passed, minutes, hours. He really didn’t care, ignoring the dark thoughts, he decided to list happier things instead. Being able to rub his success in his parent’s noses. How cute Marcus was in his newest pajamas. His favorite superhero getting a new comic book run.

“What are you doing here?”

Jericho jumped as he heard a voice at the end of the alleyway. He squinted and saw someone standing at his point of entry.

“Get out of there, don’t you know there’s a serial killer on the lose?”

Jericho sighed, “Yeah, just needed some air.” Cursing silently he got up. He didn’t want to risk the guy calling the cops on him. He was already arrested for trespassing and he really didn’t want another felony under his belt.

“C’mon I’ll take you home.”

Jericho slowly made his way towards him as he answered, “No need, I live-“ He stopped suddenly as he was hit with a gut wrenching stench. Gasping for fresh air, he looked up at the stranger again and slowly back away.

“Get out here already!” The man demanded, starting to raise his voice.

Jericho slowly raised his cellphone and held the lighter still. He dared not to make any sudden movements.

“What are you waiting for?!” The man snarled, he was clearly annoyed now. Even from a distance Jericho could see him fidget, hands twitching and clenching. He saw this behavior before in some addicts on the street.

Backing up slowly Jericho pressed the red button on his phone, and started to fumble with the lighter. Rushing to turn it on.

The man slowly made his way to Jericho, putting him in a panic. “Stop that.” He demanded, his voice becoming more feral with each step closer.

Struggling with the lighter, Jericho cursed himself for buying the cheapest one he could find. Jericho watched as the figure drew closer, and closer, the stench was the first thing that hit him. The smell of rotting meat filled his nostrils and burned his eyes. He was running out of time. Looking up to see the figure closing in, he froze. Expecting to still see him make his way to him, the figure was now towering over him. Now up close Jericho was able to make out the features of the... creature.

Despite it’s size, the creature was painfully thin, it’s piercing yellow eyes seemed to illuminate in the dark and bring light to its pale crusty flesh, the beast spoke once more, without moving its unhinged jaw, “I said stop that.”

~~~~~

Jericho never knew what hit him. All he remembered was being airborne, and the painful landing. “Ok. That hurt.” He groaned as he slowly started to pick himself up and watch as the monster charge him once more with blinding speeds. Before he could scream the monster latched onto him, sinking its claws into his torso and back. Jericho couldn’t find his voice as he felt the monster sink his teeth into him. The pain was agonizing, but it wasn’t anything he haven’t felt before.

Gritting his teeth he continued to go for the lighter. Frantically trying to flick the lick of the lighter. Once he felt the burn on the flame near his fingers, he thrusted the light towards the monster.

With the same speed as before the monster detached from him and hissed at Jericho. A red swell formed below its ribs where he strapped him with the lighter. Thankfully the cheap thing was still lit and seemed to keep the thing back.

Gasping for air he struggled to his knees, “I’ll admit, you’re pretty fast for a gluttonous pile of bones ya damn wendigo.” Raising the lighter towards the monster he spit out the blood in his mouth. “Y’know, you’re the first wendigo I met. So congrats.” He laughed, but soon turned into a painful cough, “Ugh, ya got me good, I’ll admit that.” He looked at the monster and noticed it inch closer. It looked as if the small light was losing it effectiveness.

Grunting he dug into his hoodie pocket and felt the cooling touch of a canister of hair spray. “You’re very rude, you know that? I mean I can get why you attacked me, unquenchable hunger for flesh and human hearts and all, but you don’t have to ignore me.”

The wendigo lunged again, but this time Jericho was ready for him. He pulled out the can of hairspray and pressed down on the nozzle. As the chemical mixture hit the small flame, a column of fire erupted from its small begging, engulfing the lunging wendigo. He did his best to dodge the flaming projectile, but the creature’s speed was far greater then his own as it left a deep scratch on his side, despite his best efforts to dodge.

“Ahhhh, Jesus.” He gasped. Clutching his side he used a nearby wall to help him on his feet. Even then his legs barely supported him. Once up he looked at the motionless burning corpse and and he gaged at what he saw.

The monster’s flesh started to melt away, leaving the stench of burning rotting flesh in the air. After the skin the blackened skeleton began to crumble to a pile of ash.

Jericho cursed loudly, using his colorful dictionary of curse words. He had nothing. After all that, nothing! He didn’t bother looking for his phone. There wasn’t a point if he didn’t have a body.

Giving up, Jericho fell to his knees and leaned on the wall. Looking down he asked himself, Was this hoodie always red? With the realization that the red liquid ozzing out multiple wounds, was his own blood, Jericho passed out.

[rosetlntsmyworld]

Chassés and Lattes (Dela/Jinkx)

7: “Well, that’s tragic.”

SUMMARY: A spilled cold brew and ruined dance tights leads to some unlikely romance. Jinkx is terrible at walking in straight lines, and worse at flirting. Dela picked the wrong day to wear white.

Part of this drabble challenge - message me a number and pairing ;)))

Dela was blissfully unaware of her surroundings to say the least. Headphones on as she stood in the queue, humming airily as she ran through the steps she was planning to fit to the song in her head. Of course, teaching choreography of any sort to small children was about as straightforward as herding a few dozen hyperactive cats - five-year olds being less interested in learning the difference between third and fourth position than they were in twirling, and discussing the events of the previous night’s episode of Sesame Street - but she guessed she got points for trying. She had her dark hair scraped back into a bun - fully-dressed for class save for the Mary-Jane pumps she was donning in place of her practice shoes. Of course, this had to be the day that every single black leotard she owned was sitting in her long-neglected dirty laundry pile, but she’d thrown a white one on with a black cardi and hoped for the best. Of course the kids would question it, but then they questioned everything. Anything, she supposed, to avoid having to do any actual ballet.

She was entirely on a planet of her own as the line moved forward, slinging her purse over her opposite shoulder and fishing her phone out of it to skip this song. Perhaps Anaconda wasn’t the best thing to plan a class to. And perhaps she should have thought about planning said class before she was in the line in Starbucks, where she’d detoured before actually showing up to the studio. And so naturally, it came as a shock when she felt a body careen into her own, grabbing her shoulder to steady themself as they tripped. Dela twitched with the shock, instinctively throwing an arm out to the other person, again helping them in their pursuit of staying upright.  She eventually looked at this clumsy individual, the stranger’s eyes meeting her own as they stood upright properly.

Shit.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry - are you alright?” Dela had to try hard to speak coherently. The woman facing her still held onto her arm, a light smile on her cherry-painted lips. Said smile was drawn into a look of tentative worry as she had her brows furrowed, her awkward panic rife on her face. But she was fucking gorgeous. Now it wasn’t just the right that had Dela catching her breath - bright green eyes smiled into her own, a halo of coppery auburn hair framing the woman’s face from under the brim of her black felt hat. A nervous laugh accompanied her words - her voice kind and nervy all at once, that laugh decadently sweet and somehow charming in spite of its awkwardness.

“I- uh- yeah, I’m fine.” Dela eventually said with a toothy smile, nodding to assure the other woman as she lowered her arm, taking a step back. Okay, despite how blown away she was by the physical appearance of the red-headed beauty, that didn’t detract from the fact that she was now ominously...wet. And cold. “Are you-” “Oh, fuck.” The redhead slapped her forehead, a drawn grimace spreading across her face as she blushed to a shade of scarlet somewhere between her lips and her hair. “Oh no - I’m so fucking sorry- you shirt, I…” She trailed off, receding back into herself with a shrug and her teeth in her own lip as Dela looked down at herself - an enormous brown stain down her front, extending from her belly down to the white of her tights; a small pile of ice cubes on the floor and the other woman’s now-empty cup still in her hand. “God, I’m so fucking clumsy- I’m really sorry.”

Dela shook her head, giving a thin-lipped smile as she placed her hand on the other woman’s shoulder reassuringly. “It’s okay - don’t worry, sweetie. It’ll wash out.” “Dammit, you’re probably going somewhere, too - I’m such a fucking klutz, honestly. Do you want me to- I dunno, help you clean up a little or something?” She offered with that same nervy smile on her face, her thin brows furrowed and hands wringing inside the sleeves of her black jumper.

“Oh, no - really, I…” Dela grimaced. “I’ll dive into the restroom, it’ll be fine.” “Well, I- look, at least let me buy you a drink or something. To say sorry.” She cocked her head to one side, trying her hardest to help in some way. Poor dear - the embarrassment was rife on her face, Dela pitying her as much as she was starting to fancy her.

“Okay, if you insist.”

“So, what did you say your name was?” The redhead leaned against the bathroom wall as Dela scrubbed at the front of her leotard with damp toilet paper to seemingly no avail. She still had her arms folded - black skinny jeans and Docs making up the latter half of her simple outfit. Dela liked it, immensely. Subtly artistic - somehow endearing for just being a black sweater and pants.

“Uh, Dela. Dela Putnam.” She said with a smile, looking to the other woman. Thank god she was cute - there was no way in hell this coffee stain was shifting. And thank god she preferred her coffee cold - she’d maybe not have been as sympathetic if this wasn’t the case, regardless of how cute she was. “That’s sweet - I’m Jinkx Monsoon. Don’t laugh.” “Well, that’s tragic.” She gave a tiny giggle. “I don’t think I’ve got much right to say anything at all - ‘Dela’ isn’t really even a name, and I work with kids, so that’s by far not the most offensive name I’ve ever come across.”

“Kids? Really?”

She nodded. “I’m a dance teacher. Ballet, mostly - I do a little tap and jazz too. And a couple of adults’ burlesque classes too.”

Jinkx raised an eyebrow, laughing incredulously. “Burlesque?” Now Dela was the one to blush. “Yeah - like, striptease. It’s classy.” She added with slight panic. “No pole or anything - I don’t do it for money. I just think it’s kinda...empowering, y’know? Does that sound stupid?”

“Not at all. I mean, you’ve definitely got the body for it,” Jinkx smirked, rising fully to her feet and standing beside Dela as she threw the wodge of sodden paper into the trash. “Your boyfriend must love it.” She laughed at this, shaking her head. “No way in hell. The last boy I kissed was my junior prom date, and he dumped me for my brother. I kinda bat for the...other team.” She admitted bashfully, eyes downturned and shy. “Not that you’d think it, based on looks and profession.”

“Hey, hey - no need to be shy; uh, me too. Now I can just tell you without feeling like a pervert that I think you’re beautiful.” Jinkx grinned tentatively, only meeting Dela’s eyes in their reflection in the mirror. “I- uh...More than beautiful, actually - you’re so…” she stammered at this, suddenly struck dumb.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one.” Dela turned to her shyly as she reached into her purse to fish out her business card. “Look, here’s my number. If you wanna catch a movie or go for a drink, now you’ll know where to find me.”

“God, I never thought spilling my coffee would get me a date.” Jinkx tittered, grinning broadly. “I mean, I’m glad it was you - I think that guy in front of me would have knocked my teeth out.”

“I’m glad you trashed my outfit. You’re gorgeous - and oddly charming. It’s very sweet.” “Thank you,” she twirled a lock of her hair around her finger as she grinned shyly. “I...I know we’re in a Starbucks bathroom like a couple of teenagers, and I know it’s fucking dorky, but...would you mind if I kissed you?”

“I wouldn’t mind in the slightest.”

“Ex-cuuuse me, Miss Dela?” “Yes?” She turned around from her position sat down on the bench against the studio wall, checking her register to ensure everyone had paid as all the moms departed with their darlings at the end of the class, to find Lola, one of the more precocious of her students, standing behind her with her hands behind her back - bright as a button and grinning as though she knew a secret. “What’s up, Lola?” “Uh...Why were you late today?” “I don’t think I was that late.” She said with an airy smile, looking the young girl in the eyes. “Why do you ask, princess?” “Well, you’ve, uh- you’ve had lipstick on your cheek all class.”