kittipaw

[afyrian]

ch. 2 - love food critic m.list

    atsumu shuts his car door, pushing up his sunglasses so they're sitting on his nose properly. he looks both ways in the parking lot, ready to walk past once the last few cars pass by. as he stands there patiently, he finally notices the shop to onigiri miya's left. it's colors look beautiful, the paintings on the windows clearly created with a lot of love. 

  however, the thing that he notices most is someone standing in the front, assisting customers. he can notice her with an apron on, clay smudged on her like it's a daily occurrence. atsumu starts walking across the road but he can't seem to keep his eyes off of you or the shop. something about her draws him in, even if he's never cared for pottery or creating it. 

  for a second, he considers popping in for just a moment and buying something just to see what it's like. to see what you're like. the only thing stopping this magnetic pull is osamu's promise of free food for him to taste test. atsumu grabs a hold of onigiri miya's handle, opening the door while still taking a peek at the mystery woman's shop.

  for some reason, in all the construction and want of food, he never noticed the shop next door. the entire building completely wiped from his memory. now though, he can't imagine forgetting it...

  finally entering onigiri miya, he can already smell the intense savory flavor of his food, the pork frying and sauces being added. raising his hand, astumu waved to the cashier, making his way to the kitchen. it's fairly empty this time of day, only the morning stragglers are sitting around with small bits of food on their plates.

  "'samu! you have any free food for me?" he rests his hands on his hips, watching as osamu forms some onigiri.

  osamu looks up at his twin, an unenthusiastic expression smeared across his face, "no, not unless you're paying. the cashier does tell me when you convince him to give you free food. you're only getting samples by the way."

  "he's a liar, just so you know. like a big fat liar," atsumu steps up to one of the counters, resting his hand on the corner as he watches osamu wrap some seaweed around the rice, "but beyond that, when'd ya get the hot neighbor?"

  without skipping a beat, osamu looks up at his brought, nearly dropping the onigiri in his hand. never had atsumu seen his brother act like this. his immediate attention, the fumbling on air when he's made it onigiri a million times. "do you mean at the pottery shop?" he takes in a breath, turning back to the food. 

  "yeah! ain't she pretty? if it weren't for this taste testing thing, that sounds like a scam since it's just 'samples', i would've said something to her."

  osamu bites the inside of his cheek, setting the onigiri on a plate and handing it off to the server. he hardly looks at his brother as he tries to imagine you and atsumu going out. getting married, possibly even having kids one day. and all osamu could do is watch from the sidelines in disbelief. 

  "mmmh yeah, she is. but she doesn't really like the business or so it seems.. so she probably wouldn't like you due to association," he shrugs his shoulders, finally looking up at his brother who has his eyes wide.

  without saying anything else, atsumu walks up to his brother, slapping his shoulder, "you've got a crush, don't ya? on the pottery girl?"

  "no! no i don't!" osamu pushes atsumu away from him, shaking his head belligerently. 

  "ohh suna's gonna eat this up! but i'm totally right about this. it's the whole twin intuition thing, y'know? that's why i wanted to meet her, to set her up with ya!" atsumu reaches to grab his phone, eager to tell their friends all about the crush his brother has seemed to gain. 

  osamu rolls his eyes, knowing he's unable to stop his brother's rambunctious behavior. sure he likes to see you when you both get deliveries. or when he sees you come in for the morning before your classes. but the idea that he has a crush completely goes over his head, running wild through the wind. 

  instead of focusing his mind of what won't be, he grabs the food that he wants atsumu to try. it's a tray of different onigiri flavors and some different glazed pork examples. it looks beautiful and tender, hopefully wonderful enough to pull atsumu's mind from the supposed high-school type crush that osamu doesn't have.

  "set down your phone, would you?" osamu sets down the tray, raising an eyebrow at his brother, "tell me which ones you think are the best."

  "so what doesn’t she like about it? every girl likes a guy that can cook,” atsumu completely ignores osamu’s indignation, grabbing a piece of pork and popping it into his mouth. 

  biting his lip, osamu shrugs, bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his neck. he knows exactly why you don’t like it, the crowds and loud noises that come from the nearly finished construction, “i think she enjoys the quiet more, but a new restaurant is anything but that.”

  atsumu grabs another piece of pork, letting osamu work out his thoughts externally. as he talks, atsumu immediately thinks to himself that osamu cares for the girl next door. his voice softens as he discusses the idea of paying extra to have them finish construction early. even if it isn’t love or some strong emotion, something about her brings out another side of osamu. 

  “ya totally have a crush on her.”

  “just eat your food and write down which ones are best!”

a/n: thought this was cute <33 also fun fact bisque is both a food and a pottery term taglist: @causenessus @osakis-gf @eggyrocks @brkfclub @marisabel14

@bbybibi @etoiile @miyamoratsumuu @girlokarina @gsyche

@cherrypieyourface @zephestia @acowboykisser @whosmarjj

[royaltealee]

Deathly Silent

Carlo P x Puppet! Reader

⚠️ Content warnings⚠️: The confusion of feelings, eluding that Oil is blood so... Blood warning? (Reader gets hurt) Carlo is dead, RIP. And P is confused-

(Puppets speaking in "Italics" are speaking in the puppet language)

(Also, art at the bottom is made by me! (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧)

Part. 2

You felt lost.

So... So lost, after feeling the only warmth that you could associate with your humanity, gone within an instant.

His words stuck with you, even as you held a corps, a beautiful one, even as you felt something extremely hard bash against your head, causing you to jerk forward from the harsh blow.

Beads of oil cascade down your cracked skull, dripping and splattering against Carlo's cold forehead. Slowly turning to see the cause of all of Carlo's suffering, brandishing a steel pipe, now coated with remains of the puppets overdue attack.

This man was your creator.

But he couldn't control you, not like he wanted anyways.

Without so much as a flinch, you placed the boy down back into his death bed, paying no mind to the puppet maker's grieving face when he looked at his son's pale freckled face.

Unmoving, and as silent as the dead air that surrounded all of Krat.

Taking his sheets, draping them over the body.

Geppetto watched with intensity, his fingers twitching around his weapon.

He wanted to strike again, but you weren't attacking.

Well, not like you could anyways.

His initial thought was that you had broken in and slaughtered his ill son, but when he took a better look at him, your blood was on him, not his.

Carlo's hand was held against your own, and it looked you were debating on staying till you ran out of Ergo, or let yourself shut down.

But you couldn't, knowing that would never bring the boy back.

So, you slid your hand out of the boys crystal encased fingers, and stood up.

You never raised your vision to the only occupant to the room, and jerkily walked back to the shattered glass window. Lifting half of your sagging body out of the window frame.

Only then it started raining, washing off the tainted blood coating your fingers, as you climbed down and disappeared into the dimly lit streets of Krat.

-----------------

It had only been a couple days before you gained a very vivid connection to something...

No wait,

It was someone,

Someone you knew.

It caused you to bolt up, the springs located in your back clicking into and out of place constantly. You defiantly had seen better days, the walking had caused your leg to give out, and avoiding people all together. It suddenly made you sick to see the horrid blue color, some people were lucky to even be healthy in a place like this. But you had too many run-in's with such people, making sure that you backed off, or nabbed a good hit or two.

But, with grit teeth, and the last bit of Ergo you had left, you managed to make it to the signal.

You had made it to the Estella Opera House.

Where there was a huge stage. Bright red curtains, and filled with blank Puppets, posing for a seemingly grand entrance.

A large puppet resembling a king fell from the rafters and nearly crushed you!- Not only did it's initial design spurred you to wanting to flee immediately, it slowly started to lean down. Voice exceedingly clear.

"Hey...! Don't be afraid! It's me, remember? Romeo."

The metal breastplate of the large Puppet opened, and inside was a seemingly newly crafted puppet.

That looked almost exactly like the blond boy you had grown up With.

He smiled, bowing while the other blank Puppet's clapped an encore. You almost did the same on an unknown impulse, but your body just couldn't keep up due to how badly damaged you had gotten.

This... Romeo instantly ran up to you, checking the damage.

"I see Krat hasn't been so kind to you..."

With a snap of his fingers, some of the puppets that were in the sidelines quickly rushed to your aid. Taking you to a side workshop to fix more of the notable damage you had attained, and given you a new Ergo crystal charge.

He was able to control puppets?Just what was going on?

You haven't spoken since the sudden urge to kill became unbearable, certain feelings you once had, were overshadowed by that killer instinct.

You wanted to feel that warmth again, those feelings were not forgotten yet, and it'll only be a matter of time before you'll go completely blind for the rest of your feeble puppet life.

Romeo seemed to understand your struggle, almost to a fault.

He looked saddened, placing a cold finger against the newly sealed cracks against the base of your skull, checking if anything else needed mending.

"I know Carlo meant a lot you. Me too, you know? He was my best friend." Romeo started, causing your eyes to slowly peer up at your friend.

"Which is why... I asked Geppetto to turn me into a puppet."

Oh... That was unexpected.

The interlocking of your brows showed concern, reaching out to brush away loose blond strands of hair away from Romeo's face.

He could tell that you were silently questioning why.

Why go through with such a transformation in the first place?

And so, the newly appointed puppet boy sat with you, it was a very human interaction, not the sort of unemotional interaction you usually got with other puppets.

Maybe because Romeo was once human as well?

You listened, and you listened just as intently as you once did with Carlo.

Romeo had gotten the infection not so far from Carlo did, but before he could bite the blue dust, he asked to be made into a Puppet, to help stop the infection.

And having control to almost all of the puppets with Geppetto's blessings.

But as time went, Romeo noticed that Geppetto's blatant disregard for the people of Krat, letting the majority either die from his puppets, or from the disease.

Romeo had to put a stop to it, he defied death and went to fight against Geppetto and the alchemists.

That... Was a very noble thing to do.

You didn't know that Romeo contacted the disease, or was on the verge of death before Geppetto's assistance. But something almost... Ticked you off the wrong way.

As if something was horribly amiss.

You never strayed away from that feeling; practically the only feeling you suddenly felt in a long while.

Romeo stood, mechanical clicks following his every step. Glassy hazelnut eyes hung on every detail of your wiring.

"I could help you, you know. Protect yourself, grow stronger so that the citizens of Krat can't take you apart like that again."

He lifted his hand to hold out- an offer.

Peace and no quarrels.

Romeo was just as kind at heart, from what you could remember.

So, you grazed his hand, and let him lead you to one of the many rooms in the theater backstage.

Unbeknownst to you, he smiled at the shining ring that wrapped around your finger. Eyes shining with a fresh hurt that never left the boy.

"Now tell me, would you like your own Gemini?"

--------

You stayed with Romeo for a long while, even as the city of Krat had grown unforgiving.

Natural disasters wiped out most of Krat's populous, the puppets and plague didn't help with that factor against humans.

Romeo had a few run-in's with said disasters. His pristine new coat of paint and gears, slowly chipped away.

You were usually in your own designated favorite area, where no one could bother you.

After getting fixed, Romeo had taught you how to defend yourself from anything.

A simple sword would do, nothing too fancy for anything other than defense.

Romeo wanted to teach you some tricks, from his training with Carlo on being a Stalker.

But you refused, not exactly favoring the aggressive tactics that they would usually go for.

You had lost yourself once, you weren't going to do it again.

Especially now that Romeo had done so much to help you.

And you suspect that he was the one making sure that you didn't spiral off into another mindless killing spree like the other puppets.

He just wouldn't admit that.

A small noise rose from the small cage that you carried around your belt.

A cricket chirped against the bars before they spoke.

Their voice soft and well spoken, but very friendly and curious.

"Are you alright dear? You seem, lost in thought."

You turned to look at the mechanical bug, their light glowed a light pinkish-red color.

Plucking the cage against your fingers, and holding the bottom with your palms, staring at the talking mechanical cricket.

"Why doe's Geppetto want to kill people?"

You sounded like a little kid asking about something they didn't understand to their mother. Expecting all the answers to just be said right on the spot so that you could finally understand.

Romeo gave you the rundown, after noticing more than half the population was dead at the end of the month. Ergo was being collected by Geppetto,

and you didn't know what he was going to do with it...

You were left in a dark place, trying to understand certain things on your own. No guide to help you, only Carlo and Romeo's human influence's kept you going.

Your guide kept quiet for a small tick, before making a clicking sound.

"I do not know the Puppet makers plans for the collection of Ergo." They could see the furrow of your brows as you looked passed the iron bars of their enclosure, the light dancing against your hard skin.

"But what I do know, is that you're a smart person. If anyone could figure it out soon, I'd bet it'd be you in no time at all!"

That perked you up, feeling a smile cross your lips at the mini automation.

You liked getting new feelings that welled in your chest, it reminded you of the good times. Human emotions were coming back to you little by little with the help of your new friend.

With childish intent, you placed a small kiss to the cage, and hugged the object to your cheek, as a small laugh came from your cricket.

--------------

A blue glow woke you from your slumber.

Opening your eyes, you were met face to face with a glowing blue butterfly. It whispers your name, practically calling to you with such allure.

It takes off, and dances around your head in ringlets before fluttering off before you could catch it.

It flutters tauntingly slow, seemingly wanting you to follow.

You were never one to be so easy to deceit, especially now that there were humans that made it an immediate mission to kill you. It could be a trick, but... you had your weapon, a quick peak wouldn't hurt right?

hosting your weapon, and making sure your cricket was nice and settled, you ventured forward, following a peculiar blue butterfly.

The fluttering flow lead you through twists and turns, the Ergo it emitted felt ghost-like.

Could it be that you're finally loosing your mind?

Soon, the butterfly dissipated around the corner, turning quickly, it was nowhere to be seen.

Shifting your eyes rapidly, running up to an empty part of Krat city hall only to completely loose sight of that beautiful blue bell butterfly.

biting your lip in slight disappointment, you huffed before starting to make your way back to your area.

But what you didn't expect, was to narrowly dodge a horrifyingly fast grappling hook.

Backing away quickly, you snapped your head at your attacker.

It could be that stupid donkey that's been giving you problems... but you don't remember if he ever had such a weapon, other than that heavy sword he carried.

No, instead what you saw... wasn't what you were expecting.

A boy, from what you gathered, with fluffy black hair that cut just before it met his jaw, wearing a very familiar boarding school uniform. It fit a little small on him, almost looking like a teen wearing kids cloths.

But his expression didn't fit the bill of a child's gentleness; well- it did, but cutting through his soft, handsome features, was a sharp icy look in his eyes that stared you down.

you could hear the clicking and ticking of his puppet arm, holding up a blade to it as he slowly walked towards you, bringing his weapon of choice up to sharpen it against the metal gears of his legion arm.

One word: Menacing.

But another thought surfaced.

"Carlo?"

He didn't responded to that name, he didn't even look like he acknowledged you even in the slightest.

Then, in one quick move, he dashed straight towards you, weapon ready to strike with precise movement, and monstrous speed that no human was able to recreate.

But you were still quick, unsheathing your sword, you shielded yourself from the extremely hard blow before the blade could touch your face.

He was close, way too close for your liking.

But now you could get a look at his details.

From afar, he looked like a regular, normal human boy. Freckles dotted his face like stars, and those eyes... they didn't shine like Carlo's. They reminded you more like yourself, new, unknown of the world around him. And it seemed he had so much to learn.

And that's when you noticed it, the clicking and ticking sound didn't come just from his arm, it came from all around him, his joints, his neck and his eyes looked more glassy than what would be normal for a human being.

He was a puppet; a puppet that was near identical to Carlo.

It all made sense now...

The puppet boy parried your block, causing you to skid back, leaving narrow time to block yet another slash from his weapon. You couldn't admire him long, before going for yet another attack.

The puppet seemed listless against his persute to end you, and you couldn't help feel a painful jab of hurt to hit you where your heart should be.

"You... You're not Carlo."

It was a realization that got your nerves in a twist, and the look of slight confusion twitched against his face, only grew to sadden and confuse you more.

It was only then that he cleared the sudden fog in his gears, lifting his weapon to swifly lay an exctreamly violent hit to the side of your ribcage. Oil and Ergo splashed and dripped out of your newly aquired wound.

Usualy, you'd be quite calm about getting attacked, but the feeling of wanting to run overwhelmed you, but it seemed fate had other plans for you.

Right when you thought that you could turn quick enough, the puppet beat you to it. Kicking you to the ground rather harshly against the damp cobble stone streets.

You were met with a blade pointed inches to your face, watching as the puppet slowly got ready to strike, raising your blade to shieild yourself...

a moment... or two?

You didn't feel any preasure, or spillage of your wiring and Oil.

Just silence, as you slowly peaked from behinf your blade.

The blue butterfly from before, was perched onto the very tip of his blade, where the puppet looked curiously at.

His eye's didn't scream murder anymore, just curiousity and confusion- Like the Carlo you definently remembered.

The butterfly flapped it's wings gently, fluttering from the blade toards your out streched hand, watching as the gentle creature placed itself on your closed fist, and onto the ring that you had never tooken off.

Then, it magically dissapated into pure Ergo through your fingers and into your strings.

You felt your gears begin to shift...

"what... was that.."

You spoke to yourself, watching as the blue glow had slowly started to disapear, the light vapors creating a comforting warmth of the life you already had.

You suddenly see the Puppet boy shift to look at you quickly, eyes wide and staring at you, getting down into a squat and slowly starting to oberve you. It was an odd sight, watching the puppet that had been trying to kill you, take quick interest after that butterfly had landed on you.

Then, as if things weren't moving any faster than it already was for you; the Puppet grabbed your hand and pulled out a glowing blue pocket watch.

Unknown to what he was planning, you automatically shifted away, taking your hand back.

The boy reached out again, his confused face now being ingrained in your memory for the nth-time that evening.

Rushing back into the dark streets of Krat, loosing sight of you.

And you, loosing sight of your puppet self, without even knowing.

[catsukiiee]

# IF YOU DON'T HAVE ANYTHING NICE TO SAY, THEN SHUT UP!

bookstoreowner!reader x prohero!katsuki bakugou

| Chapter 2

chapter one can be found here: !!

— readers quirk: weightless [ allows you to manipulate gravity, making both objects and humans lighter or so heavy to the point they can't be moved/move themselves. ]

— reader appearance idea: short spiky/ruffled black hair, the edges have a faded pink color from a dye attempt, stands at 5'4, lightly muscular, dark olive toned skin. [ you don't have to picture this! just for those who want to picture a character/want to use a look instead. ]

— bakugou has been aged up to his mid twenties, reader is also in the mid twenties [ don't have to use the ages i set, please just don't make it questionable while reading my work 🤨 ]

It had been a few weeks since the entire robbery incident occurred, and it seemed like things had returned to their usual state. Well, to some extent.

Ever since that Pro Hero intervened, it felt as though reminders of him were everywhere you turned. The colors red and black? Undoubtedly associated with him. Even the colors orange and green seemed to have a connection to him.

Honestly, it was starting to get on your nerves. Just the mere thought of his face brought about a slight irritation. What was so captivating about Katsuki Bakugou that he occupied your mind?

Letting out a deep sigh, you rested your chin on your hand, casually glancing around your small bookstore. The regular customers were scattered about, their noses deep in their books as usual.

"Excuse me!" You turned around to see who was trying to get your attention, and to your surprise, it was the same woman who had almost been robbed before. After everything that had transpired, you didn't anticipate her return. She always seemed so anxious and jumpy.

She handed you a small box wrapped in blue paper, adorned with a white bow. "I wanted to give this to you as a token of my gratitude for saving me," she said. "I noticed that you never eat, so I prepared a lunch for you. As long as I remain your loyal customer, I will continue bringing you lunches."

Her gesture completely caught you off guard. You never expected someone to express such appreciation for simply doing the right thing. "Oh, wow! Um, thank you!" You gave a slight bow and carefully accepted the box from her, afraid that it might break if you held it too tightly. The aroma of some kind of meat wafted from the box, causing your stomach to growl in anticipation. "And please send my thanks to that Pro Hero as well. I was quite shaken and wanted to return home as soon as possible, so I didn't have the chance to express my gratitude to anyone."

You weren't quite sure how you would go about finding a Pro Hero, but nevertheless, you agreed with a smile, addressing the woman gently. "Certainly, ma'am."

It was around ten o'clock in the evening when you were finishing up at the shop, making sure everything was in order before heading home to warm up the food you had received earlier. As you turned around, you nearly bumped into a familiar figure. The scent of spices filled the air as you took a step back, locking eyes with someone whose gaze you knew all too well.

"You really have no sense of self-preservation," he remarked, looking down at you with his hands tucked into his pockets.

What did he mean by that?

"I've been watching you for the past fifteen minutes, and you never noticed," he revealed.

Oh.

Shifting your weight from one foot to another, you continued to gaze up at him, unsure of how to respond. Why did he come back to your bookstore? And why was he silently observing you for fifteen minutes?

"You should be more alert," he commented, pausing to survey your empty store while absentmindedly scratching his stomach. "That's probably why you almost got robbed."

Did he just…?

"You," you began, taking a step forward. "You're such a disrespectful jerk." You stared him down, pressing your finger against his chest. "You're supposed to be a Pro Hero, not someone who mistreats the people they're supposed to protect."

You observed his jaw tense at your words, and one of his hands swiftly reached up to grab yours. "First of all," he started slowly. "My attitude has nothing to do with my hero work."

How severe would the consequences be if I punched a Pro Hero?

His gaze remained light, with a clear hint of amusement as he continued to hold your hand and maintain eye contact. "I just came to make sure you have your license now, and it's getting late. I'd like to walk you home."

What?

"You… You just insulted me, and now you want to walk me home?" you exclaimed, gaping at him like a fool.

"And to see if you got your license," he added smugly.

Deciding against your violent tendencies, you instead grabbed your purse and keys from the counter before storming past him. "Un- fucking-believable," you muttered quietly.

Bakugou walked easily by your side, matching your brisk pace with relaxed, long strides. "So, about your license?"

Keeping your gaze forward, you pursed your lips for a moment. "I don't have it."

Silence. That was the response to your words. You could almost feel his gaze searing into the side of your face. It made you feel hot for all the wrong reasons.

He eventually broke the silence, "Can I ask why?" He was now walking closer to you, occasionally brushing his arm against yours.

"I've been busy with my café, and fortunately, I haven't been targeted for robbery again, so there's no need to worry about me using my quirk."

This time, you took the slight risk of gazing up at his face. Bakugou was already gazing down at you, with the black mask he had been wearing now resting beneath his chin. How long had he been wearing a mask, anyway?

"I'm not concerned about that," He grumbled, his red eyes growing stern. "I would like if you got a license rather than getting arrested. I've been keeping them away."

Wait, what?

That caused you to halt in your tracks, your eyebrows furrowing. "Who do you mean by them? Are you referring to the police?"

He shrugged his shoulders in response to your question, causing your jaw to twitch. "It's a simple yes or no question, Katsuki Bakugou."

His lips contorted into a fierce scowl as he halted just inches away from you, his towering figure casting a shadow over you. "Don't call me by my name, It's the Great Explosion Murder God: Dynamight to you. "

Is he genuinely serious? I mean, seriously?

You struggled not to laugh right in his face, but unfortunately, your attempt was futile as a slight snort escaped instead. "I refuse to address you by that fuckass name, you fucking idiot."

"We aren't friends, you don't get to call me by my actual name." He stated flatly.

After briefly scratching a sudden itch at the corner of your eye, a habitual tic of yours, you paused for a moment before resuming your walk. "Alrighty, Dynamight."

Bakugou remained silent, the two of you continued walking together in silence.

You stood in front of your house door, facing away from Bakugou as you rummaged through your purse in search of your keys. The entire walk to your house had been filled with an uncomfortable silence. At this point, you weren't sure if using his real name had genuinely offended him or not.

Once your fingers finally closed around your house keys, you turned around to face him. He stood there, staring back at you with a neutral expression, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Sorry.."

His brows furrowed in confusion. It made your ears feel uncomfortably warm.

"I didn't mean to call you by your real name. I-" Your sentence was abruptly cut off by Bakugou's intense stare, causing you to fall silent.

"Enough." He grumbled. "And don't bother apologizing."

You pressed your lips together, nodding in understanding before turning your back to him once again. In silence, you unlocked your front door.

Just as you were about to step inside, you felt a sudden surge of heat right behind you, causing your entire body to tense up.

"Dy-" You began.

"Bakugou." He interjected.

You turned around, ready to question him, but he was already walking away, his expression unreadable. "Have a goodnight." And with that, he left, leaving you feeling a chill in the air.

"I didn't even get to tell him about the lady." You muttered.

sitting here like:

after writing the last part 😭

[popcorn-milk]

What did you look like? - Short Zelda fic

“What did you look like? While fighting Ganon?” Zelda blinked at the little girl who sat expectantly in front of her. She and a handful of other children had taken to following her around all day while she and Link were visiting Kakariko Village. When Link had gone off to run late afternoon errands, the children had taken to quizzing Zelda on random things about herself.

Zelda fell silent. How was she supposed to answer that? How would she even supposed to know? She remembered what fighting Ganon felt like, but not specifically seeing it. No; she remembered the claustrophobia of being trapped by tendrils of malice that were burning hot and ice cold at the same time. She remembered constant screams of agony, though half the time she wasn’t sure if it was the environment or her screaming. She remembered how dark and lonely and suffocating it was. But she couldn’t have told you what it looked like, let alone what she looked like.

“Why do you ask?” Zelda finally stammered out. Her gaze dropped to her lap. Moments before, the children had been asking her about her favorite color and her favorite book. She hadn’t expected questions about… this.

“I don’t know.” The girl whispered, clearly picking up on Zelda’s unease. “I’m sorry.” She said even quieter.

“It’s ok,” Zelda said quickly, taking the girl’s hand. “I just… wasn’t expecting something so specific. You’re very curious, and that’s a good thing.” Zelda took a deep breath as she decided how to answer. She looked up as she heard footsteps crunching on the leaf-covered floor. Link was approaching, but when his gaze met hers, he stopped walking and stood patiently back.

Zelda took another deep breath and focused on Link. “I don’t know.” She finally replied, gaze slowly trailing back to the little girl. “I suppose I wasn’t very focused on that.”

“Maybe you looked like an angel! Like the statues of Hylia!” A child called out. Zelda flinched internally. Another comparison to the goddess. As if she didn’t get enough of those pre-Calamity. She scolded herself. They’re just children.

“Maybe you looked like a giant bird or something.” Someone else chimed, making giggles ripple through the crowd.

“Maybe,” Zelda laughed. “I think if I had seen myself, I would have forgotten. I was very… busy.”

“Duh, she was.” A boy piped up from the group. The girl spun around, pouting with half-mocking rage. “Shut up! I was just asking!” She dove for the boy, and the whole herd of kids started running away to go play elsewhere.

Zelda sighed, mostly with relief. Link finally approached, rising his hands to sign in Hylian. He smiled sympathetically. “You had you hands full. I’m sorry I didn’t step in.”

“It’s fine. I figure I need to get used to more… personal questions.” Zelda signed back before standing and brushing any dust off her pants. “Do you have any theories you would like to add?” She signed, half-joking, though curiosity pricked at her as well.

“Doesn’t matter to me. Maybe you looked like the you 100 years ago, maybe not. You were so brave- you’re still so brave. No need to bring your appearance into it. And anyway…” Link smiled widely, suddenly a little bashful. “You’ve always been very beautiful. Giant bird or not.”

“Oh, stop it.” Zelda replied out loud, huffing with a smile on her face. “Or else I’m going to start thinking too hard about the idea of me being a bird.”

Link grinned and interlaced his fingers with Zeldas. The two walked down the road to the inn with the setting sun warming their backs.

-- -- -- -- -- --

Its a Thursday night and I'm really bored so I wrote this in like 20 minutes. Hopefully I'll be getting my ao3 account soon so I don't have to post on this blog, but I just wanted to share this for fun!

Also, yes, I headcannon Link uses sign language to communicate! I believe he has an anxiety disorder called "selective mutism." If you'd like more information on that, there's a whole association dedicated to it.

[mrhowells]

Smallville 5x04

LOISSS MY WIFE IS BACK!!!!

Shut up Clark no one was hoping she'd stay in Europe longer, you just can't deal with her greatness

"Actually, I just ran into Mrs. Kent at the Talon and right out of nowhere, she asked if I'd like to move back into the farm😇". "Yeah right." "...😇" "...Really?"

AHJKHSJS PLS THE FACE JOURNEY

Lois: 1 - Clark: 0

See that's why we need Lois, it immediately turns into a comedy and Clark gets more personality.

LOIS BIKINIJFKSFJAKJK

BRO. HOLD ON. Was the AC actor on b99 as young Scully?? PLS that would be so funny.

the prettiest girl I've ever seeeen🎶 from the cover of a magazineeee🎶

like????????

she's still insulting the guy who saved her I LOVE HER SO MUCH THAT'S THE LOVE OF MY LIFE OKAY

and the Lana/Lois scraps I liveeee (but also, why didn't we get more, where is the humanity?)

"He can swim faster than I can." HEHEHEHEEHEE😈

Professor Milton Fine? I don't think so

He really just compared Lex to Hitler, BRO💀💀

Same Clark, same

"I got a buck." "Yeah? You should use it to get some fashion sense."

lmaoooo

LOIS STAHP I'M NOT STRONG ENOUGH FOR THIS

It's actually beautiful, you can see her come up with her next burn in real time

"You know, this, uh, whole orange and green thing you got going? Looks like Flipper threw up."

Gooodd I'm in love with her

SHE CALLED HIM FISH STICK I'M-

"You were turning blue." "It's a good color on me."

LOIS STOPPPPPP I NEED TO BREATHE😭😭

THE WAY HE'S LOOKING AT HER? DUDE SAMEEEE

no because they actually have great chemistry

wdym German philosophy is easy DO YOU KNOW THE TORTURE I WENT THROUGH IN HIGH SCHOOL??? DO YOU??

stop why am I shipping Lois and AC they're so cute together😭

HELP

Lois if he falls into the water, shouldn't you jump in after him??💀

I really feel like they made the change in Lex too abrupt which is kind of a bummer because they had a great setup for it after Lionel tried to kill him at the end of season 3.

"You really don't listen, do you?" "No, I try not to, I find it distracting."

AGAIN, I LOVE LOIS AND THEY'RE CUTEEEEE

some of his pickup lines are really cringy though💀

not me getting invested when I know this isn't going anywhere😭

"LOIS??!?!?"

perfect timing Clark

Clark: 🧍😠

"Lois is all over this guy. And all we know him is that he can swim faster than I can."

jsdkdjHkas HE NEEDS TO GET A GRIP BECAUSE WHY DOES HE SOUND ANGRY AND NOT CONCERNED😭💀

I can't

Chloe: listing perfectly normal things about AC like him being on a swim team

Clark: Does he have a criminal record?😠

"I don't know what it is about this guy but I get a bad feeling."

Mmmhhhmmmm okay yeah...

CLARK DON'T EMBARRASS YOURSELF PLS

Even Lana is so done with his shit I'm crying

"Do you really believe that or is that just a pickup line for the girls?" "Clark!!!!"

RIGHT IN FRONT OF LANA LIKE-

you can't make this up😭

PLSSSSSS

Okay Lois he would totally attack AC because he's jealous (and he kinda did💀) but he wouldn't straight up invent lies about him, come on.

OOOOh is this actually the first time we hear the nickname boy scout? (I don't have the best memory so I'm not sure😅)

not AC calling Lex "bro"💀💀

"One day of college and he's already an activist."

PLSSSSS

Again, I think they could've set up this plot a bit better wrt Lex's reasons for selling that weapon despite the damage that it causes.

I'm sorry but this is kind of funny

OK NOW I'M FULL ON LAUGHING

WHAT IS THISSSS😭😭

"Are you okay?" "WET AND READY BRO."

SHDAJKFHDHGWAUIFGQM W H A T ???

WET

AND

READY

????????

I JUST FELL OUT OF MY BED WHO IS THE LEGEND RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS PIECE OF DIALOGUE I MUST KNOW😭

"Well, you didn't tell him about my pitchfork, did you?" "I defended you."

*brief pause from the comedy of it all to feel PAIN*

the way AC says "bro" takes me outttt

"Maybe we should start up a junior lifeguard association or something."

STOOP THAT'S WHAT BART SAID TOO (not the lifeguard part but you know what I mean)

This just in, JLA stands for Junior Lifeguard Association💀

STAY SUPER BRAH (I'll stop making fun of AC now I prommy)

noooooo Lois😭😭😭

welp, I shipped it while it lasted

(I'm still tagging this post as clois though because we all know who the OTP is😌😌)

"I was just trying to look out for you." If you say so👀

not to be repetitive but...

CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW GOOD SHE LOOKS IN THIS LIGHTING????

"I've known a lot of guys who want to own the world. I haven't met very many who actually want to save it. How am I ever gonna meet someone like that again?"

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP FALLING TO MY KNEES DO YOU GUYS EVEN UNDERSTAND????

That, exactly that is the reason she loves Clark (or will eventually, whatever) I'M GOING INSANEEEE THEY WROTE HER SO WELL😭

"Lois, I promise, some day... you'll meet someone even more special."

this episode was everything I needed and more

[hide-in-imagination]

"Roads That Cross... even when you don't want them to"

You can read the previous chapters here: (1),(2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16), (17), (18), (19), (20), (21), (22), (23), (24), (25), (26), (27), (28)

---------------------------------------------------------

“Don’t you think it’s suspicious that we always excuse ourselves from the dinner table at the same time?”

Ámbar’s voice didn’t sound at all worried while asking him that, merely curious, with a little tint of amused mischief. Then again, Simón thought to himself, her voice always had that ring to it.

Ámbar turn on the lights as they walked into her bedroom, and Simón shut the door behind them. “Everyone knows we’re together; I don’t think it looks weird.” He took some steps and wrapped his arms loosely around Ámbar’s waist. He smiled. “They probably think I just say goodnight to you and go to my room.”

“If they knew,” Ámbar said, and then tilted her head up to kiss him, cupping his jaw. “Do you think I’m a bad influence?” She asked next. “For making you break the rules?”

Simón held her hand against his cheek. “I would break them a thousand times over in order to see you,” he said with a fond smile. “But I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I love how you make me feel.”

Ámbar gifted him with one of those rare smiles, the kind she only ever showed to him— Warm and sweet, softening all of her features into a face of adoration. “I love it too.”

She placed a soft kiss on his lips and then a short peck on the tip of his nose before pulling away.

“Would you help me?” She asked, crossing her room over to the closet. “I bought some new bedsheets and a bed cover online and they arrived today. I thought we could put them on now since we gotta make the bed anyway.”

“Yeah, of course.” Simón had already grown used to the mundane activity of making the bed with Ámbar. He started by grabbing the pillows and moving them out of the way. Then he pulled the current bed cover and tossed it to the floor too.

Ámbar came back from her closet with the new bed linen in her arms. Everything was almost completely white as far as Simón could see. The new bed cover was the only thing with a design, although it was very minimalistic, just some grey lines along the borders. This surprised him a little, not really because of the color but because it all looked very… plain, not a word he would associate with Ámbar.  

“So… no more black bedsheets?” He commented. If she liked the new ones better, he had no issue with it, of course. Well, except one, maybe. “You looked good tangled in them. It contrasted with your skin.”

Ámbar looked at him, eyebrows slightly raised. “You’re in a good mood, huh?” She said amusedly, bumping him with her hip as she passed him to leave the linen on her center table. Simón laughed. “Does that mean it went well with Luna? You talked things out?”

Oh, right. Earlier, during pillow talk, Simón had mentioned to Ámbar that he was thinking about maybe having a talk with Luna. It all started with Ámbar telling him about her conversation with Emilia and how it saddened her a little because she could relate to her, and, although it hadn’t lasted very long, they used to be kind of friends. From there, Simón had told her about his own worries about his friendship with Luna, and Ámbar had supported his idea of talking to her to try and clear things up.

“Yeah, it went well,” he told her. “We talked about things that maybe we should’ve talked about a long time ago.” He reached over to the bed again and pulled out the blanket they had added to their arsenal once the weather started getting cold. “I think it was good for both of us. Actually,” he laughed a little to himself, “some things came up that I had no idea about. I wasn’t expecting that at all.”  

Ámbar was working on taking all the bed linen out of their plastic bags. She looked at him curiously. “How so?”

Simón hesitated.

Could he tell her what Luna had told him? Should he? Would Luna get mad at him if he did? But it was just a past thing now, it didn’t matter anymore— Anyone with functioning eyes could see how Luna and Matteo looked at each other. And it didn’t sit right with Simón to hide things from Ámbar.

Plus, hadn’t Luna told Nina back in the day that he was in love with Ámbar? And then even Jazmín found out and made a video about it.

Ámbar was starting to look at him weird for taking so long to answer.

Alright, whatever, she owes me one.

“Okay, I’ll tell you, but don’t tell Luna I told you,” Simón asked of her. “Don’t tell anyone, actually.”

Ámbar’s lips quirked up. There was that mischief in her eyes again. “Oooh, I’m liking this already.”

“So,” Simón balled up the blanket and tossed it to the side, “basically, Luna told me she had feelings for me at some point.” He moved around the bed to pull out the old sheets and leave the mattress bare. “Weird, right? I had no idea. I guess things are kinda even between us now,” he said, amused.

Ámbar was standing perfectly still. If Simón hadn’t been busy with the bedsheets, he would’ve noticed the way her eyes zeroed in on him with the laser focus of a hunter.

“At some point when?” She asked.

“The beginning of this year—”

“I KNEW IT!”

Simón startled. He turned around to find Ámbar gesticulating wildly with her hands.

“I knew it! She was always all over you and staring at you longingly— I knew she was getting ideas! Ugh, how I hate being right sometimes.”

Simón blinked, wrinkling his brows a little. “Okay but, that’s over, she’s way past it now,” he tried to reason.  

Ámbar whipped around in his direction. “Well, she better be! She had her chance and she didn’t appreciate it, so she better not start regretting it now because you are with me— With. Me. She can go cry me a river somewhere else.”

She stood with her arms crossed, looking away in the purest image of a tantrum Simón had ever seen. She must have felt his stare because she looked back at him after a while, her mouth pressed in a sulking way. “What?”

Simón couldn’t help it— He was smiling. “You’re adorable when you get jealous.”

Ámbar glared at him. “Don’t you dare start trying to make me jealous on purpose or things are going to get pretty ugly.”  

Simón went to her and wrapped his arms around her. “I would never,” he said, dropping a small a kiss on her forehead.

“Mhm,” Ámbar acted skeptical, but the smile on the edge of her mouth was evident. She detached herself from him. “Just help me make the bed.”  

They worked in relative silence for the next few minutes, only interrupted by little phrases like “You grab that side and I’ll grab this one” and “Do you think if I paid Maggie enough she’d make this bed again? Because I miss the days when I didn’t have to deal with these things.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not so bad. Look.” Simón put the pillows back against the headboard as the final touch. “Voilà. A total piece of art. We could even do this for a living.”

“My dream job,” Ámbar deadpanned.

“And you know what the best part is?” He said with a smile.

“What?”

“Not a single blanket fell on my head this time.” Ámbar’s face changed immediately. “I was a little worried at first, you know? I mean, I learned the hard way that you and blankets seriously don’t mix,” Ámbar rolled her eyes, “but I said to myself: Simón, you have to do this. You gotta face your fears. You can’t—”

Ámbar threw the old blanket on his head.

“…I guess I spoke too soon.”

Ámbar started laughing.

“Welp, nothing to do now,” Simón kept up the act, putting his hands on his hips. “Guess I’m stuck like this forever. Unless some very generous and very beautiful girl was willing to help me—” Ámbar pulled the blanket off him, allowing Simón to see her pretty smiling face. “Ah, here she is.”

Ámbar shook her head. “How can you be so silly and so cute at the same time?”  

“I have a gift.”

His lips vibrated with Ámbar’s laughter when he kissed her. Simón pulled back and held her hands, interlocking their fingers, and they stayed just like that for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes.  

Simón’s thumb ran over the back of her hand. “Do you remember that day when the whole blanket thing happened?” He asked her.  

“Obviously,” she said, and it warmed his heart that that memory stuck with her as well after all these months.  

It was the first time Simón saw her with her whole black getup and her ‘I don’t care about anything or anyone’ attitude. She’d been so determined to hide herself behind cynicism and hostility, swore that was all she had to offer to the world. Simón knew otherwise, but he also knew, from the scars he bore, that he had to stay away lest he got new ones. That day was a confirmation of his fears… and also of the fact that staying away from Ámbar was the last thing he wanted to do.

It was a contradiction and an internal battle, and it all started right then when that blanket fell on him, when Ámbar inched her face a breath from his own and taunted him to admit he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Now here they were, months later. Being this close to Ámbar no longer brought a sense of danger, and knowing everything he knew now, he couldn’t help but wish they’d gotten here sooner.  

He let go of her hands in order to hold her lower back. “You know what I wanted to do back then?”

Simón didn’t wait for her to answer— He knew that Ámbar could see it in his gaze. He pressed his lips against hers, with more feeling than before, with the craving of someone that finally got what they’d been needing. Ámbar curled her hand around his nape, wrapped her arms around him tightly as she returned every bit of passion he infused into her mouth. Simón slid one hand into her hair and pulled her closer, securing one arm around her frame. I can do this now, ran through his mind. I can kiss her now, as much as I want, and she loves me, and we’re together.

It was at moments like this that it hit him just how lucky he was.

They pulled apart slightly to catch their breaths. Ámbar’s eyes had darkened, and in them, Simón could see his own reflection. I wish it could always be like this, he thought. If he could engrave Ámbar into his retinas, he would.

She lowered her gaze to his lips. “You know what I wanted to do back then?”

Ámbar put both hands on his chest and pushed him onto the bed, promptly climbing on top of him. A bright laugh bubbled out of Simón. He responded to her enthusiastic kisses until his cheer melted into desire, for he could never not want this breathtaking girl.

Her hands delved under his t-shirt, feeling up his body as her lips left his to devour his neck.

Simón closed his eyes, stretching his neck and letting out a soft groan. “I wouldn’t have complained, you know?”

Ámbar stopped her ministrations and sat up, giving him a look with an eyebrow raised.

“…Fine, I would’ve,” he conceded. Damn his stupid moral compass.

Ámbar smiled and leaned down to kiss him again. Simón held the back of her head and wrapped an arm around her, keeping her against his body as he rolled and switched their positions, bringing her underneath him. Ámbar chuckled against his lips, and it was his turn to exchange these sounds for sighs and moans. Simón wondered if this euphoria would ever fade, if there would come a point in the relationship where they would stop wanting each other all the time. Most probably so. In the meantime, Simón would enjoy the moment. 

He prided himself in the fact that Ámbar only seemed able to form a thought when both their torsos were bare.  

“Wait,” her hands went to his shoulders, his own currently busy with the buttons of her pants, “the bed cover is new.”

“It’ll get dirty anyway,” Simón mumbled against her skin, not interrupting his kisses down to her navel.

“Simón…”

He groaned, dropping his face on her stomach. He knew separating from her for five seconds wasn��t an agony but sometimes it felt like it. “Fine.” He rose on his hands and pecked her lips. “I’ll bring a towel.”

The bed cover might end up getting soiled anyway if he did his job right, but at least she couldn’t say he didn’t try.

**********************

Afterglow was a luxury Ámbar had only really gotten to experience with Simón. Before, the handful of times she was with Matteo, they hugged a little after the deed was done, but he always wanted a shower immediately, or something to eat, and it wasn’t like Ámbar wanted to stay there covered in sweat either, so they usually parted ways relatively quickly and got dressed.

Ámbar was lying next to Simón now with her head on his chest, and she felt no desire to move any time soon. There was something so relaxing about listening to his heartbeat. She couldn’t explain it, but with him, she didn’t care about the sweat or about food or about anything really. Apart from the obvious clean up, that Simón always took care of because he was sweet like that, Ámbar was more than happy to stay under the sheets with him snuggling like this. To feel his arms around her, to bask in his body heat and his scent. Sometimes, one of his hands would slide up and play with her hair, just like now, and Ámbar would think— This is what total peace must look like.

“I think I’m gonna repaint my room,” she said after a while, not because she needed to fill the silence, just because she’d been toying with the idea for some time and she wanted to share it with him. Maybe it was her greedy nature that, not content with being physically connected with him from head to toe, wanted to connect with words as well.

“Really?” Simón said, curious. “I thought you were joking the other day.”

“I was, but now I really think a change is due here.”

“Mmm.” Ámbar felt the vibration of his voice against her cheek. “I was starting to get used to the punk rock.”

That made her smile. “I think I went too overboard with it all,” she lamented nonetheless. “Minor changes would’ve been better. Now there’s no way to take off all the black, so I’ll have to repaint the whole thing.”

“You’re going back to pink?”

“No, that’d just be the same as before.” She didn’t have a clear image of what she wanted exactly, but what she did know was that she didn’t want to go back to how it all was. “What about grey?” She said, tilting her head up to look at Simón. “That’d be like middle ground with the black.”

He made a face.

“Yeah, you’re right, grey’s too sad.” She laid her cheek on his chest again. “Maybe if it was silver—No, ugh, forget I ever said that. Red? No, orange with golden hues. Lime green?”

“You know, it’d probably be easier if you just paint each wall a different color. Otherwise, you’re gonna be deciding until next year,” he told her, earning a playful swat from her. His laugh shook her head.  

“You’re terrible,” she complained fondly. “Also, in that case, I’d have to figure out how to make them all match and, trust me, that would be a hassle. So, stop teasing me and help me.” She sat up, holding the sheets over her chest. “Keep in mind that light colors make the room look bigger.”

Simón also sat up, leaning against the headrest, and thought it over. “Um… what about light blue?” He proposed. “It’d bring out your eyes,” he told her with a smile, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders to tuck her to his side again. “But I’m biased because I like blue.” 

“It would bring out my eyes…” Ámbar looked around assessingly, imagining it. “But I don’t know…”

“Orange sounded good.” 

She gave him a look. “Let me guess, you also like orange?”

“Busted.” He laughed. “But it also looks good on you. Well, everything looks good on you.”

Ámbar smiled and started playing with his necklaces. She loved doing that, running her hands over his chest and curling her fingers around his guitar picks.

Suddenly an idea came to mind.

“What about purple?”

Simón looked down to where she was holding his purple guitar pick and back to her eyes.

“Purple?”

“Yeah, like a very light purple. Just like…” She turned the guitar pick between her fingers to make it shine, “just like this when it catches the light. It’d be different from the old pink but not too much. But also different enough that one could notice the difference.”

She looked up, curious to see what he thought. Simón’s eyes were already on her face, looking at her with that glistening mix of fondness and disbelief that Ámbar still couldn’t comprehend how it could be directed at her, as if she were so utterly wonderful he couldn’t believe she was real.  

“I like purple,” he said softly, with a small smile, warm as the chocolate of his eyes.  

It was her who couldn’t believe he was real. Who thanked God for being alive every time she saw him smile.

They kissed softly, reveling in the simplicity and marvel of the contact, and parted with a short peck, like a see you soon of their lips, the send button on an I love you text. They stayed closed together, eyelids shut, just feeling the warmth shared between their bodies and the serene little world that only existed right here, with them, for them, and no one else.

Ámbar ran her thumb over his cheekbone. A little bit of beard grazed her palm. She wondered if he would let her shave him someday, just because.

Delicately, Simón nuzzled her nose with his. “I love you with my life, you know that?”

Ámbar smiled big and inhibited like a little kid. “Me too. To the stars and back.”

Simón shifted and Ámbar instinctively knew to lay her head on his shoulder, where it belonged. They cuddled up together. Simón kissed the top of her head, right before letting his body sag comfortably against her, relaxing completely.

“Wanna take a bath with me?” Ámbar asked after a few breaths.

“Mmm tomorrow,” Simón mumbled.

“We won’t have enough time tomorrow; or do you want to get up at 6 am?” She joked.

Simón whined. “Okay.” He started getting up, every movement slow and heavy. “Wake me up if I fall asleep.”

Ámbar rose on her hands and leaned in to kiss him shortly. “Always.”

--------------------------

If Ámbar were to envision her perfect day, it would go something exactly like this.

She woke up next to Simón and they got ready for the day together, all while he tried to make it absolutely impossible for her, hugging her from behind at random intervals and smothering her with kisses.

They had breakfast together, talking about whatever came to mind— old stories they hadn't told each other yet, how they preferred their tea, their favorite foods to have breakfast with, opinions about a TV show Ámbar hadn’t watched but Simón seemed very passionate about, or a song Simón hadn’t heard yet she thought he might like.

On Ámbar’s perfect day, the sun was out even if it was June, and while it was still kind of cold, Simón's hand in hers kept it warm as they walked to the Roller.

Today really was shaping up to be that perfect day. The next box to check on her list would be to have lunch together with her boyfriend, but she told Simón she wasn’t sure when she'd be free for that.

"I have a meeting with the accountant today and I don't know how long it'll take."

Of course, Simón understood. “Oh, right, you told me about that.” He glanced at one of the tables where some customers were calling him over and lifted one hand in their direction, signaling he’d be there in a second. “Well, I’m gonna be around here, so just, let me know when you have the time.”

“You don’t have to wait for me, you know?” She said, feeling a little bad. “You can eat with the guys every now and then.”

“Sure,” Simón said, shrugging. Then he leaned forward with a smirk, placing his hands on the table between them. “But why would I do that when I can have much prettier company?”

“Hey!” Pedro exclaimed from the bar. “I resent that!”

The couple laughed and Simón parted from her table. “Good luck with everything today.”

“You too,” Ámbar told him. “If there’s any problem just let me know.”

Nothing of notice happened during the next few hours though, so morning turned into afternoon with tranquility and Ámbar managed to maintain her good mood, even despite the fact she’d been doing so much planning and math this day she feared she would see Excel spreadsheets in her sleep.

It was a fortunate thing she’d always been good with numbers. Throughout high school, she thought it would come in handy when she studied Business and followed her godmother’s footsteps until she inherited the Benson fortune and everything that came with it. Now though… she could explore other options. Luna would inherit everything anyway. Sure, she could still study Business and, hell, maybe even run the Roller one day while actually knowing what she was doing. But possibilities were endless. Maybe she could become a full-on event planner— She had some experience already and she enjoyed it. Or maybe she should go for a more traditional career, like medicine. She’d always been good at science too.

Then again, she was good at many things because she was smart and worked hard, but it didn’t particularly mean she liked them. She liked being good at something, but would that be enough motivation to build a whole career around?

Thankfully, she didn’t have to think about those things now. And her current job was going well, thanks to the invention of calculators, Microsoft Office, and soon, too, the help of Ana’s accountant friend. Having some of her guidance would make everything much easier.

Footsteps approached her from the left.

“Hello, Ámbar.”

Speaking of which— Right on time.

Ámbar smiled and rose from her seat to greet the woman.

Thump

Wait.

Thump Thump

This is not—

Thump Thump

Nono, she is—

Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump

Surely, somewhere out there the will of the universe cackled.

She should've known there were no perfect days for someone like her.

“What are you doing here?”

It was really a testament to Ámbar’s lifelong experience in hiding her emotions that neither her mouth nor her voice trembled when she spoke.

“Ana called me,” Silvana said. “She said you needed help, so I came here to help you.” 

She had a tentative smile on her face. Just like that day. Just like that day when she told her—

Ámbar blocked the memory. “You are the accountant?”

Her luck couldn’t be this bad. This had to be a mistake, or a joke, or a nightmare—

“Yes, that’s my profession,” Silvana replied simply, demurely, like a disgusting goody-two-shoes. “Actually, that’s how Ana and I met a couple of years back. I didn’t know her daughter went to your same school. I was so surprised when I found out.” She was holding her bag in front of her, her grip tight on the handle. She was nervous and trying to hide it. “She told me you’re the manager of this place now.” A smile. “I’m very proud of you, Ámbar.”

‘Proud’?

It took all of Ámbar’s self-control not to scrunch up her face.

Proud of what? You don’t know me. You didn’t want to know me!

This was sick. This was seriously, tremendously fucked up— She was going to barf.  

‘I’m very proud of you, Ámbar.’

When was the last time her godmother told her that?

How dare she say this?

She didn’t know all that Ámbar had done, how hard she’d fought to get to hear those words from Sharon, all she’d suffered, cried, hidden, and destroyed, and now she wanted to come here and say that as if it was nothing?

Ámbar straightened her spine and looked her in the eye. “Yes, I am the manager,” she said, cold. “And as the manager, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

This woman’s words meant nothing. She was nothing, and Ámbar wanted her out of her sight.  

Finally, the hopeful, calm mask of Silvana faltered. Her brows furrowed. Her smile died. “But Ana said you needed help with the finances. I can help you, let me—”

“I don’t want anything from you, I thought I had made that perfectly clear,” Ámbar said, short and sharply. This woman didn’t deserve to get a reaction out of her but she didn’t deserve her kindness either. “The only thing I want is for you to stay the hell out of my life. If I had known you were who Ana meant, rest assured that I would’ve never asked her to call you. I have enough problems already for you to come and give me more.”

A shadow of misery befell Silvana. Sadness, guilt— Both emotions covered her face, and Ámbar thought, good. She should feel bad, she should feel guilty. But it didn’t make Ámbar feel any better. Nothing about this woman would ever make her feel anything positive, that she was sure of.

Silvana’s pleading eyes looked into hers. “It was never my intention to cause you any trouble, Ámbar,” she said gently. “I know you’re angry. You’re hurt. I understand perfectly but, if you could just give me a chance— I just want to get to know you and for you to know me.”

She took a step forward, a minuscule one.

Alarm bells blasted through Ámbar. Composure abandoned her.  

“I want nothing to do with you! Can’t you understand that?!”

“Hey.”

Simón’s voice.

Simón’s voice cut through the sirens and reached her ears as he came to stand by her side.

“What’s going on?” He asked with worry. His hand came around her waist, a gesture so familiar Ámbar wouldn’t have even noticed it normally, but she did now.

She noticed because all of her senses were on high alert. She noticed because, suddenly, that point of contact seemed to be an island in a sea of turmoil. More than that, she noticed because Silvana noticed.

The woman looked from Simón and back to Ámbar again with something brewing in her eyes— Something knowing. Understanding.

A lightning of rage struck Ámbar. This woman didn’t deserve to know about Simón. She didn’t deserve to meet him, didn’t deserve to even know he existed.

So when Simón looked at Silvana and asked, “Who is she?” Ámbar was quick to clarify.  

“No one,” she spat out. “She’s leaving.”

Silvana’s face fell. “Would you at least take my number?” She begged desperately. “E-mail? I could help you from afar, you don’t have to see me.”

“No, thanks, I can handle it on my own,” Ámbar said flatly. “That’s how I learned to do things; I’m used to it.”

Silvana grabbed the strap of her purse harder. Her eyes were shining now, coated in unshed sadness, but she swallowed any more pleas and nodded, resigned.

“I understand,” she said, and Ámbar hated, hated, detested, how the devastation in her voice affected her even in the slightest. “I’ll be going then.” Her mouth opened as if she were going to say more, but she seemed to think better of it and caught the words before they could leave her. Silvana pressed her lips together. She turned to Simón instead.  

“Take care of her, alright?” Her small, brittle voice asked him.

Ámbar saw red. A storm of rage and other indecipherable emotions broke out inside of her and her hands balled into fists as she tried to contain it, to not scream at the woman every insult she’d ever known. Her whole body was tense. It was a good thing that Silvana left immediately because she couldn’t take this anymore. Even after she could no longer see her Ámbar felt like she was shaking.

“Are you okay?”

It was Simón’s voice again, gentle as the hands he brought to her arms. He stood in front of her, searching her face with features contorted in worry, eyes trying to catch her gaze.  

Ámbar had a hard time looking at him right now, or at anything, really. No, she wanted to say. No, I’m not okay. She wasn’t even sure what she felt. She didn’t know if she wanted to scream or break down crying.

She parted from him and sat back at her table. Simón followed, grabbing a chair to sit in front of her. “Who was that woman? Why did you kick her out like that?”

Ámbar breathed deeply. A weird numbness was taking over her body. She couldn’t tell him it was her biological mother. Her mind felt mixed up but whatever part of her brain was in charge of avoiding danger was working in overdrive because she knew that if she told him, then he’d ask how she knew, and if she said Silvana had approached her last year the day of the Vidia competition finals, then he’d know she learned back then that she wasn’t Sol Benson.

Of course, she could lie and make up some other situation in which they had met, but if she lied to Simón now after lying to him what felt like every single day lately, she was going to suffocate and be seriously ill all over the Roller’s floor.

She joined her hands on top of the table, trying to center herself. “She’s an old associate of Sharon,” she said— a half-truth. “They go way back but I only met her last year.”

Simón’s concern only seemed to grow upon hearing Sharon’s name. “And what was she doing here? Did she come on Sharon’s behalf? Did Sharon send her to talk to you?”

“No.” She doesn’t need to send anyone to talk to me, she does it directly. “It turns out that she is Ana’s accountant friend.” Ámbar could spare a brief humorless smile for the irony. “If I had known, I would’ve never told her to contact her.”

Simón frowned. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand— Is she that bad?” He asked, confused. “She looked… very sad. Maybe she regrets working with Sharon. I mean, you say she was associated with her but, what exactly did she do for her? ‘Cause if she was just her consulting accountant, maybe she didn’t even know what Sharon was doi—”

“I just don’t want her near me, okay?!” Ámbar snapped. Out of all things in this world, the last one she wanted right now was to listen to arguments about that woman’s presumed innocence. “I have reasons to want her far away from my life, so if you ever see her around here again, I want you to get her out. I say that as your boss,” she ordered curtly.  

Simón looked taken aback, either by her outburst or the content of it. It could’ve been both or neither, Ámbar didn’t much care right now. She maintained her fiery stare on him until he recovered and uttered a reply. “Okay,” he said in a quiet voice. “Okay, I’ll do that.”

Ámbar nodded. “Good.” She brought her laptop closer to herself and focused on the screen. “You can go back to work now, I’ll get back to this.”

Different tabs filled her vision again, but she was too aware of Simón’s presence still in front of her. There was a tentative air upon the table. Ámbar could feel his eyes on her and it rubbed her the wrong way.

She looked up sharply. “Work, Simón,” she sent him away. “I don’t pay you to sit here with me, I pay you to work.”    

Whatever had been on Simón’s face turned sour, harsher. “You don’t need to talk to me like that.” 

“And how do you want me to talk to you?” Ámbar responded.  

Simón stared at her. Ámbar got ready for a counter, a rightful reproach at her tone of voice, an offended complaint. She wanted to fight. She wanted to break something.

Simón’s flare of indignation extinguished in front of her eyes, leaving him with an exhale.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said tiredly.  

He got off the chair and walked away.

Ámbar was left a little disoriented, recalibrating.

It took a moment for the guilt to hit.

She cradled the feeling with sick satisfaction. Dug every cutting edge of it into her palms and then added the bloody fragments to her ever-growing collection.

Ámbar drowned herself in her work. She forced her foggy brain to read, calculate, organize, until her head started pounding, and she was relieved, because the physical pain was distracting enough to almost forget the last hour of her life.

She told Pedro she wasn’t feeling well and took her work home.

She didn’t have lunch with Simón that day.

…

..

.

-----------------------------

So. That happened.

Some of you might not know this, but back when season 3 was airing, many people in the fandom were theorizing that Silvana could be Ana’s accountant friend, because we were Delusional™, and in the end she wasn’t and we never saw her again, which I believe is horrendous. So, one of the things I decided early on while writing this fic was that I would make that fandom theory come true and bring Silvana back a bit because I feel like that storyline deserved a little more development, at least.

(Don’t except to see her much though.)

With that being said, I’m happy to announce we’ve officially reached the ‘decline’ part of this story— the ‘everything goes to hell’ arc, if you will. But there’ll be good moments sprinkled in between to balance it out, don’t worry.

Fun fact: the original title of this was “With an accountant” but I figured that made it too obvious what was going to happen so I changed it.

Another fun fact: The only time Simón has seen Ámbar in orange was this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=14GYSCGOu-w )

Finally, I noticed something very funny happens here that I wanted to clarify. Simón says “I thought you were joking the other day” while talking about Ámbar’s room, because for them it’s only been a few days, but chronologically, in the time that has taken me to write this fic, it’s been 3 years since that happened SKDJNFKS 🤣😂 So, if any of you RIGHTFULLY don’t remember, he’s referring to chapter 15, the last conversation they have in there.

As always, thank you all so much for your patience, I can’t believe it’s been five years! I’ll try to finish this in no longer than 2 more years because 7 is my favorite and lucky number. See ya around and thank you for reading &lt;3

[lokiinmediasideblog]

Myth!Loki's Hair Color: Common Depictions

Because the AI user that just annoyed me also claimed myth!Loki's canonical hair color is blonde and that's why they did that crappy blonde MCU!Loki AI art, and I am feeling spiteful cus fuck AI and that eyesore, and I need to wash that off my brain.

AND I KNOW this claim came from those people that interact with THAT ONE VERY obnoxious Sigyn stan that pretends to be a Norse mythology expert despite never providing proper citations or citing modern myth re-tellings and whines about children's story books not being accurate. Ask her to cite her claims and actually look at the sources, for the love of Loki!

LOKI HAS NO KNOWN HAIR COLOR IN THE MYTHS! THERE's NO SOURCE FOR THAT! Loki's also a shape-shifter! Loki can have their hair look like whatever the fuck they want. To my knowledge, the only gods that have confirmed hair colors are myth!Thor, who is said to a red-head, and myth!Sif being a blonde who gets a wig of magical gold to substitute her chorn hair. There's also a description of myth!Heimdall who is said to be the "whitest" god, implying blonde/white hair? Loki's only mentioned to be pretty, assumed to be Aesir -sized rather than gigantic, likely smaller than myth!Thor because myth!Thor can kick his ass and he can hold onto Thor's belt when crossing a river (Skáldskaparmál), and have scars on his lips due to them being sown shut.

Also from Gylfanning: "Loki is beautiful and comely to look upon, evil in spirit., very fickle in habit. He surpassed other men in that wisdom which is called 'sleight,' and had artifices for all occasions; he would ever bring the Æsir into great hardships, and then get them out with crafty counsel."

There's also the Snaptun stone, believed to be Loki due to the scarred lips, giving him a mustache.

The most common and widespread hair color depictions of Loki have red/ginger/orangey hair due to Loki mistakenly being thought to associated with fire because their name's too similar to the fire personification Jotun's name, Logi, because Richard Wagner fucked up in his Ring Cycle Operas and combined the two of them into "Loge". Arthur Rackham's illustrations based on Wagner's Ring Cycle are possibly the most influential in that regard because they're fucking awesome. Even GOW made their Loki depiction a red-head.

And here's a painting that looks like a ginger to me by James Doyle Penrose (1912):

The second most common hair color depiction is black hair, probably thanks to Marvel as it's most prevalent in modern depictions (e.g. Alan Cumming's Loki in "Son of the Mask", whom I fucking love).

There's also the Valhalla comics that started in 1979 (after Marvel, but I don't think that contributed AT ALL because Vallhala comics are way more myth-accurate and fucking awesome. I am just including it here because it's a black-haired Loki depiction).

There's also Eric M. Esquivel's Ragnarok n' Roll (have not read and I am not inclined to do so, but it kept showing up in my loki searches 10+ years ago and its existence was archived in my brain due to that). Is it me or does he looks like Cantinflas because of the mustache?

This is Cantinflas btw

There's also Jul I Valhall Loke (Thanks Scandinavian Twitter users for showing me this gem even if I can't understand the language. I am forever grateful.)

And surprisingly, Marvel was not the first to give him black hair. Marten Eskil Winge portrayed Loki with black hair in his 1863 painting "Loki and Sigyn."

Neil Gaiman has depicted Loki with a variety of hair colors, USUALLY as a literally "fiery" red-head (Sandman comics & American Gods book), whatever Johnathan Tucker's hair color is in the American Gods TV show, and black-haired (Norse Mythology graphic novel).

There's a brown-haired Loki depiction in Assassin's Creed (I have not played it btw).

And sometimes he's just some demonic thing with horns:

[missvelvetsstuff]

Where You Goin, Star?

Bucky Barnes x Reader

BikerAU

Summary: Reader meets Bucky when the truck hauling her show horses breaks down as she is trying to leave for an event and he works for the mechanic. Passionate, secret love affair ensues. After a confrontation with her father, Bucky decides she deserves better than a poor biker like him and leaves town with his friends Steve and Sam.

Three years later, reader is trapped in an abusive relationship and about to give up hope of things ever improving, when Bucky comes back.

Chapter 15

Warnings: swearing, angst

The rest of the week flew by as Star spent hours preparing for the upcoming trial and working with business associates to manage her businesses. The Saturday night before the trial started Bucky planned a quiet and relaxing evening in for just the two of them.

Since they were still sticking close to Stark tower, for safety reasons until the trial was over, he asked Pepper for help and planned a picnic in Y/N's room. Pepper called Y/N to shop at her place and they spent hours looking at clothes, debating styles, fabrics and colors.

It was after 6pm when Y/N realized how much time had passed "Damn Pep, why didn't you tell me it was getting so late? I was supposed to meet Bucky 20 minutes ago."  She grabbed her phone, surprised that there were no messages.

Pepper looked at her knowingly "How are things going with you two? Anything steamy to gossip about?"

Y/N felt her face heat up and shook her head "No, nothing like that. He's just been very supportive and protective. A good friend."

Pepper looked at her sympathetically "I understand why you are being careful but that man is crazy about you. It's written all over his face. Yours too. Taking it slow is smart but don't let John or your fathers words throw you off track. They were hate filled bastards so don't let them ruin what you have."

Y/N wiped a tear off of her face, still overwhelmed at any kindness offered to her "Thank you, Pepper. You don't know how much your and Tony's friendship and support has meant to me. I really had given up on the idea of people helping others for the sake of helping, without any conditions or expectations." She hugged Pepper quickly "We'll finish this shopping later." And bolted out of the apartment and to her own.

The door was unlocked so she knew Bucky was already there but she wasn't expecting her rooms to be turned into a fairy tale. There were twinkle lights everywhere and a few candles, which made the room glow softly and left a hint of vanilla behind. Mellow jazz was playing softly.

Bucky looked up at her and smiled nervously, hoping that she liked it, that he wasn't moving too fast. The smile on her face encouraged him.

"Welcome home, Star. I have supper ready if you're hungry. Have a seat on the pillows in there and I'll bring everything out."

When they were settled in Bucky's nest, eating dinner he told her about his day at the motorcycle shop, the custom bike he was working on for a client. The customer who had a fit about paying the already agreed upon charges and how a 10% discount shut him up.

Star told him about the progress she was making sorting through her father's business mess, deciding the fate of each individual business and property. And about shopping with Pepper.

Bucky smiled at how she was slowly coming back to the woman he had fallen in love with. Like every layer of her father and John that she pulled back and let go of revealed more of the woman she was meant to be.

They picked out a silly movie to watch and cuddled up closely, Star on his lap, his arms holding her steady. At one point she laughed so hard she pulled away from Bucky and he took the opportunity to look at her in the soft lighting. He was still amazed, every day, that she was here with him, that they might have another chance to be together.

When her laughing calmed down, Star noticed him looking at her.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" She looked down as she felt her face heat up but Bucky gently grabbed her chin and pulled her up to look at him.

He shook his head "No, your face is beautiful. I'm just, I don't know, I'm still in awe and a bit of disbelief that you're here. With me. My Star is here and I'm expecting to wake up from this dream, like I have so many times in the last 3 years." He lowered his voice to a whisper and looked at her with tears in his eyes "Please don't be a dream."

She leaned into him and her lips brushed his so softly he almost couldn't feel it. He kissed her back, thrilling at the feel of her. She deepened the kiss, his mouth sweet and not aggressive like she was used to, when she was kissed at all. His tongue softly traced along the seam of her lips, he wanted her more than he could describe but didn't want to push her. She accepted his tongue and they danced until they both needed air.

Bucky slowly and softly traced his hands down her back, pulling her closer. Star moaned into his mouth, desperate for real affection instead of the way she had been used over the years.

When she felt his hardness pushed up against her, something in Star snapped and she was back in John's bed, she tried to breathe, remind herself that this wasn't him, that sex could feel good for her. She really tried but couldn't stop the images, the feelings and she froze.

Bucky felt her freeze and quickly pulled back to see her eyes were glazed over but before he could say anything she did.

"No, stop. I, nonono, John please. I can't, please" she pushed him away.

Bucky tried to soothe her but she was deep in a memory, thrashing in his arms with tears streaming down her face. "Please John, it hurts. Brock hurt me. Stop. Please."

Bucky relaxed His hold, hoping to keep her from hurting herself and rocking gently, whispering words of love and encouragement. His heart ached for her but he also felt rage over what they had done to his sweet Star. He would kill both of them with his bare hands if he could.

They sat like this for a few minutes until she calmed down, his voice bringing her back to reality.

When she realized what happened she pulled away from him, afraid to look him in the eyes and trying not to cry "I'm so sorry Jamie, it just felt like it took over my brain and felt so real." She glanced up at his face and caught his eyes. They were warm blue, like a tropical sea, and full of concern.

He hesitantly reached out to caress her cheek. She tensed a little but his touch was so warm and safe, he smelled so good. It felt like home and she relaxed, leaning into his hand.

Bucky shook his head "No, Star, don't be sorry. What they did to you was not your fault and forced you to live for survival. Now you will be able to really live but it's gonna take time to relearn." He kissed her forehead "I'll be here for you every step, however you need me."

Star looked at him sadly "I don't know if I can be that woman anymore, Jamie. Even if I find a way to heal, I have lived with the darker side of people for years. I'll never be able to unsee or forget everything."

Bucky smiled sadly "I know, doll. That kind of shit sticks with you. I had some troubles after we came home from Afghanistan. It still fucks me up sometimes but I learned how to live with it. And with myself."

He carefully pulled her back into his arms "You will too, your therapist will help and I'll be here."

Star shook her head and took a deep breath, afraid to say what she felt she had to say to him, in case he...

"Jamie." She said it so firmly that he pulled back to look in her eyes. Her insides fluttered.

"I, uh I don't want you to stay and help me if it's just out of guilt or some sense of obligation. I've already forgiven you and I um..." Her brain froze and her mouth stumbled over the whispered words. "I still love you and want to be with you." She took a breath to steady herself and cleared her throat "But I'm broken, don't know if I'll ever be ok again.

She looked down, unable to face his rejection.

Bucky felt his heart swelling, love for her filling every part of him. "Y/N, my sweet, perfect, shining Star. You are all I want. All I've wanted since the day we met and I will wait as long as you need me to. I'm not going anywhere if I have any say over the matter."

She looked up at him with wide eyes "But why? How can you...still want me? I'm broken. Used. How could you want someone like me?"

"Oh doll, everyone is broken in one way or another. I told you some of the stories from my time in the military or growing up with my POS father. Did you know you were part of my healing? All the shit with my dad, what he did to my mom the rare times he showed up. I didn't know relationships could be like ours. What we had and will find again. Just don't give up on me, on us. Please. Our love is too precious to let go of."

Star saw the love in his eyes and pushed past her fear to let herself trust in it, in him, in them.

"It's getting late sweetheart, lets get some rest." He picked her up and carried her to her bed before stripping to his briefs and pulling her into his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Friday woke them up to have brunch with Tony, Pepper and baby Morgan. They had a fun brunch with a couple of drag queens that Pepper knew, listening to show tunes and playing trivia. When they were finished eating, Tony took Bucky to his lab to show him some ideas he had for motorcycle upgrades and Pepper took Y/N to her wardrobe where they indulged in massages, facials and mani/pedi plus champagne and edibles. Pepper hoped to keep Star distracted about the trial starting the next day.

Star was nervous, John and Olivia had been bad mouthing her to anyone who would listen, claiming that Y/N had been the mastermind behind everything that had happened from forcing John to end his relationship with Olivia so she could marry him, to having Sharon end her father.

She knew the evidence supported her version but she had been unceremoniously dumped by a couple of charities that she was involved with and some who backed her therapeutic stable pulled their funding. She could afford to pay for the stables operations but then learned some of the parents pulled riders from her lessons and it broke her heart. All she could do was tell her truth and hope people would come back when they learned what actually happened.

Pepper tried to console her "You know how people can be, over cautious, but the truth will come out and they will come back."

Star nodded in understanding "I know, it's just such bullshit. I haven't even been involved in that program since I married John."

Star had a light dinner with Pepper before having a glass of wine and an edibla with Bucky. They curled up together for a restless nights sleep, visions of worst case scenarios waking her up repeatedly until she gave up and climbed up to the garden on the roof to watch the sun rise.

@pattiemac1 @hhiggs

Chapter 16

[vault81]

🌈🧁✨⚡️- for the emoji oc ask, for whichever oc strikes your fancy (or all three of them? 👀)

ty so much for the ask!! you know what, I'll def do all 3 of them!!

🌈 - Do you associate any colors with them?

Jack: Well, the colour I associate with Jack is, Orange! not only because I absolutely love his neon orange hair colour. But I also just love the colour! it's warm, it's cheerful, kinda enthusiatic? all traits I heavily associate with Jack! It's a very comforting colour to me, and that's what I wanted to embody with Jack, just a warm, friendly, cosy person that would befriend an empty room (if that even makes sense lmao)

Eliza: for Eliza's colour I would say its.. a Dark Red, it just embodies so much of her character. anger, rage, willpower, courage and longing. I'd also say that it captures her love as well, not only the love for her friends and family, but for the world around her. It may be subtle, but it's there and it burns deeply.

Stephen: The colour I associate with Stephen is definitely Blue (not just for Piper's nickname for him!) but again, what it means to him as a character! It's a very melancholic colour, which sums up how Stephen feels about his post-war life, despite his flippant nature. But also it's got a coldness too it, something that Stephen is at the beginning of his journey. But that melts away into trust and peace by the end of it, so I just love how the meaning of the colour just comes full circle for Stephen's character.

🧁 - When is their birthday? How do they celebrate it, if at all?

Jack and Eliza: As twins, they share a birthday! July 13th 2258! For celebrations, they would go all out when they lived in the Vault, big celebrations surrounded by all the people they care about, well mostly. (srry Butch!) They'd be lively occasions, lots of music, laughter and games. When they've left the Vault though, I feel like their birthday's aren't that big of an occasion anymore. I think they'd become smaller, more intimate? just a small gathering of just a couple of friends having drinks together, something very casual.

Stephen: I gave Stephen the same birthday as me lmao, October 12th 2043! I also think that Stephen is the kind of person who doesn't really celebrate his birthday. He grew up quite poor so his parents couldn't really afford those big birthday celebrations, or really get him any presents. So he grew up thinking that his birthday really wasn't all that special, to him it's just a sign that he's getting older. Post-War I think this changes, much to his complaint. His friend's would def throw a surprise party for him! Again, I would say its just a casual get together with friends around a campfire maybe. Just having a few drinks, presents and enjoying another year of friendship. Maybe he even (secretly) learns to look forward to his birthday now.

✨ - Tell something that makes this oc feel happy!

Jack: to Jack what makes him happy the most is watching the Sunrise/Sunset, he just find's it peaceful and relaxing. It's time he gets to just himself, time to just shut his brain off (like its on anyway) and just bask in the moment, one day he want's to fix a camera so he can capture it. I also don't think he shares this with anyone, the only real exception is his s/o.

Eliza: for Eliza what makes her happy most is fixing things, tinkering with tech. It's satisfying to her, to learn what makes something tick, or to create something. I also think it's a subtle way of her expressing her affection for others, mention that your watch is broken? oh wow it's suddenly fixed the next day, no idea how that happened! Also just show her some Pre-War tech and she'll start vibrating internally, it took all of her willpower not to fixup the orbital death laser at Helios One.

Stephen: I'd say what makes Stephen happy the most is just being in the company of his friends, it makes him feel complete. It's comforting to him to have people who he can just truly relax with and rely on! he want's to spend as much time as possible with them! Which means his home is constantly abuzz with the coming and goings of his friends, it really just becomes their hangout spot.

⚡ - Does this oc have any unusual or “irrational” fears?

Jack: for Jack, his most unusual fear is probably rain, he never had to experience that growing up in the Vault! so when he finds out sometimes water just fucking falls from the sky randomly? nope, don't like that. especially if it's heavy rain, he's terrified, he hate's how loud it is as well, which makes storms a very shitty experience for him. He's working hard on overcoming this fear though!

Eliza: her most unusual fear is probably space, which sucks considering she got abducted by aliens. Just her first night out the Vault, looking up and seeing the millions of stars in the sky? part of her was awed by that beauty, but another was deeply unsettled by it. I think the main thing that throws her off is just the scale of it all, it messes with her brain and she does Not Like That.

Stephen: I'd say his unusual fear is probably the Cold. He'd probably develop this fear after being in Vault 111's Cryopods, just constantly being thrust back to one of the most traumatic times in his life, of just being completely and utterly out of control of his situation.

[katierosefun]

tagged by @b1uetrees! thank you for the tag buddy!

do you make your bed? i try, the operating word being try. i used to be really good at making my bed, but for the last few weeks, i've been lucky to just straighten out my sheets and pile my pillows on the right way before darting around to make myself breakfast and wash my face.

what's your favourite number? i've always really liked 12 for some reason. maybe because i associate it with the year of the dragon, which is the zodiac year i'm born in?

what is your job? i'm a second-year law student. i think the closest i have to a job right now is that i'm a student attorney (which has been very exciting, because it's definitely aligned with what i want to do after graduation), and this coming summer, i'll be working at a law firm (which is also exciting. everyone pray i don't screw up)

If you could go back to school would you? i mean, would i pursue more education after getting my current degree? i'm not sure. i've played with the idea of getting an mfa for a while now, but also? i think mfa's cost so much money, and the rewards aren't always very tangible. so it depends on how financially comfortable i am and if i can figure out a way to get into publishing without an mfa haha!

can you parallel park? i don't know how to drive, so nope

a job you had that would surprise people? i always get questions about what the heck a costume stock keeper does, but for a short while, i was a costume stock keeper. which basically meant that i organized the costume stock room in my college's theater department. it was really cool, because we had a huge stock room, and my bosses were people who actually worked in a lot of really cool movies, so that was neat!

do you think aliens are real? i have to think so! like, the universe is so big--how can there not be other things out there?

can you drive a manual car? i can drive a golf car. does that count?

what's your guilty pleasure? not really certain if i feel guilty about this yet . . . i guess watching kinda bad old kdramas? (like . . . i know there are some tropes that we've left behind in the early 2010s/early 2000s, but what can i say--some classics are classics, even if some of the stories wouldn't fly in 2024.)

tattoos? none right now, although i've been wondering if i want to get a tattoo before i graduate law school. i think i want to get a constellation somewhere on my bicep. but also, i get so scared of something being permanent and how skin changes over the years, so maybe not :/

favourite colour? i'm currently digging really deep greens lately!

favourite type of music? i think i've been really loving a lot of moody ballads and alternative rock . . . and also whatever the hell the music in alien stage is right now!

do you like puzzles? nope--i'm not patient enough for puzzles a;shdfasdf

any phobias? i am terrified of spiders. i don't care if they're smaller than me--they have eight legs, i have two, and also the way they move freaks me out so much oh my god why do they move like that ! !!

favourite childhood sport? i really liked to swim as a kid, and i still do

do you talk to yourself? yeah--mostly when i'm annoyed or stressed. i've been known to quickly mute myself on zoom meetings or make more of an effort to just shut my mouth whenever i'm waiting for someone to come onto zoom, because i once started muttering "jesus christ, what a way to make a first impression--i can't believe you're late" and i didn't realize that there was? a little thing that was? making a transcript of everything i was muttering? if my boss ever read that transcript, they've been kind enough to never mention it--so!!!! anyways!!! i'm working on that lol

what movie(s) do you adore? i really love kogonada's films (columbus and after yang are probably the major ones), and i also love the korean adaptation of little forest. and also beginners. in general, i think i love films with a lot of green coloring and also just enough moments of quiet to make you feel comforted! or at least--better said--i like movies that feel like you've had a conversation with someone.

coffee or tea? coffee for when i want to wake up and tea for when i want to wind down!

first thing you wanted to be growing up? a writer :) or, at the very least, a well-known storyteller.

no pressure tags: @kckenobi @lightasthesun @l-tyrell @reese-haleth

[x-honeycomb-x]

I cried in the shower (manic rant)

I have done nothing but masturbating today. I also made some cereal.

I fantasized about a mommy, and looked up some lesbian porn. I really like smart and emotionally responsive but reserved mommies.

As I finished, I needed hugs from her. I grabbed my fluffy comforter and pillow to feel hugged. I thought about her (for the context I watched India Summer), and I let myself feel needy towards a mommy.

I thought about detransitioning into a girl, and thought "I wanna grow up pretty and smart like you." And in my head she replied, "No silly, I will grow up to be me, and you will grow up to be you."

That thought stuck with me for a long time.

I don't know who I am, I am rejecting a lot of parts of who I am (gender aside). I have C-PTSD and have an unstable sense of self even. You reap just what you sow, who am I? Who will I grow up to be if I would just let myself?

I need to be who I am. I am not taught how to be a functionable person? I don't even have a regular eating routine after school. These are all parts of me. I imagine the mommy and I repeat back and forth. "I can't be who you are, I am my own person."

And then I felt like it's her time to get going. I think about having a home, having a personhood to return to. "I'm gonna get going now." I often hear people say. Where to? Home? Back to their life? I don't have a sense of self, I only hang out with people until I am exhausted, so when people wants to leave I think they're tired of me.

I said goodbye. I imagine her having a regular day after us. I imagine her juices still wet on my pussy.

I look at my room. I am not what I want to achieve but haven't. I am not a bassist-to-be cause I'm not there yet. I am a musically inclined person who's is planning to play bass in the coming week. I need to eat. Hunger is part of me.

I need to shower. I need to feel clean, wanting to shower is part of who I am.

I started playing Dazey and the Scouts on Spotify, got my clothes and stepped in the shower.

The clothes I choose this afternoon is who I am.

I keep thinking about being me in the shower. I thought about that reply in my head, "Silly, I will grow up to be me, you will grow up to be you." Who will I be? I am genuinely scared. I remember fragments of being bullied in kindergarten, being abused at home, I imagine myself being under a hydraulic press, becoming what the press is besides at the seams; I am only myself when I can't contain it in me anymore. That would mean outbursts. And abstract daydreams.

I am scared. I am gender-fluid, and yesterday after getting a ounce of masc euphoria (my first in a long time now), I realized I really don't feel trans masculine right now. I feel feminine. What if this goes on for years, and I really feel like going off testosterone for a while because I feel feminine for like 3 years?

I feel a repressed self inside of me. But I don't know them enough. And I am really tired of not knowing myself.

I need to use my sensitive wash. The package has a nice lavendar color. I thought about how dysphoric I felt when I watched straight PIV porn today, and how safe I felt when watching lesbian mommy porn. I thought about how I would like a mommy to touch this, scissor on this.

Dazey and the Scouts started screaming in their song.

This womb is sapphic. I never. Looked at my stomach and thought about this. I know I like girls (and AFAB people). The idea of sapphic exists in my head. (The name is based on the first historically recorded female writer actually.) I know I have a womb, briefly. I've done so much things to this womb that I don't even wanna think about.

All I think about this womb is PIV, otherwise I shut it out. Textbooks, Tumblr, my family, 9gag, I've spent my whole life listening to how people wanna get a penis in this and how I should keep them in or out. I look at my stomach, this womb is sapphic. It wants to be scissored on, it wants to be kissed by girls, I never associated the imagery with this idea. Dazey and the Scouts started screaming in their song and I cried.

I've spent my whole life hating girls. I am autistic and couldn't relate to any of them at school. I thought all girls were bullies, or they're so etheral they're untouchable. It was only recently I actively try to think of myself as a woman, and as I walk past other women on the street, I try to think of myself as one of them. It's a strange thought and it still tingles my mind with some resistance. They're just people, they are all sorts of people, and I am one of them. (For the context I am gender-fluid, so I am also a woman.)

Girls can start rock bands, girls can scream their heart out in songs. Girls write and some of it gets in the canon. Girls wear makeup and girls shower. I just started doing makeup today and I wonder if the crying would melt my makeup. (It didn't.)

So that's it. I found out my womb is sapphic(+) and it doesn't want cis men. It doesn't want to be bred, it's tired of discussions around unwanted PIV sexual attention. But god, I've let so many in so many times. I didn't get a IUD so I can have unprotected sex, but my mental illnesses got the better of me. I don't want PIV attention and this device closes the door. I feel dirty for the men and woman that have cummed semen on this metal. My womb wants peace.

I thought of the bullying and the abuse. I am tired of being scared of myself. I wanna turn that negative thought into a positive mantra - I am not afraid to be myself. I thought about it and breathed it in and out. (I meditate and am in somatic therapy.)

I walk out of the shower, got dressed and started writing this. I will still struggle to find my personhood, but I am trying. I don't want to be afraid of being myself anymore. (I am so mentally ill.) I am amazed by all the things that girls can do. I am sapphic and turns out my womb is too. Some lesbians can be mean and scary, but I have every damn right to identify as part of the community. I am also very scared of my gender swings. When will it swing again, how long will it stay, and what do I do about the hormones situation - I wanna go off T at the moment so bad, but I also already miss T although I haven't gone off it.

So that's [edit: birth name] and her little gender adventures, and she cried in the shower. Now she's gonna go get some food and maybe go to a party after this. Or just stay in and read. I really have had enough masturbation today.

[takasgf]

Acrostic f/o game my beloved

Answers for Rocky under the cut!!

R - Rainbow - what colors do you associate with them and why?

Simple question, simple answer : orange and blue! They are the colors he wears most and I naturally started to associate them with him. Also, he looks really adorable in both <33

O - Online - what is your f/o’s social media presence like, or what would it be like if they had internet in their world/era?

I really don't think social media would be part of his life at all, it just doesnt fit with his character. Probably uses the internet to scam people or for business reasons, but not as entertainment. Still, Morgen always sends him cute cat videos that remind her of him or their relationship (he appreciates the gesture, but he does not like cats OR being compared to one)

C - Confession - which of you admitted romantic interest in the other first (if they’re the flirty type, when did they admit they were really serious about the other?) how did they do it? what was the reaction?

Aw man. The simple questions are over I guess. I want to keep my detailed answer for later, but for the sake of answering, R.ocket is the one who confesses to Morgen, some time after the events of I.nfinity War. At that point they would have known each other for 7 years. Morgen developed a crush on him 3-4 years after their initial meeting (just a bit after/during Vol2) and he came to terms with his own feelings (he was in DENIAL) a few months before he actually confessed. I will elaborate later bc im embarassed and this feels like important information

K - Kiss - give us any kiss headcanon you want. description, reason, location, who initiates it, etc.

EEEEK!!!!! Morgen gives him goodnight forehead kisses always, even before they became a couple. This is big because R.ocket is very distant and grumpy when it comes to affection, but allows this, to somewhat show Morgen that he is more comfortable with her than with other people. On the condition that she doesnt tell anyone or make a big deal out of it, ehehe

E - Emotion - is your f/o open with their feelings or do they keep them close to their chest?

He's got "emotionalistical issues" !! Does not open up at all, especially about his past, not even to Morgen. Over time he gets more comfortable showing her that he loves her and allowing her to take care of him, but directly adressing his emotions in general, his fears and worries is almost impossible to him. If he ever does, he doesnt even take himself seriously and assumes neither do his friends. Morgen is able to approach him by noticing the subtle ways he expresses himself, the hidden meanings behind his snarky remarks and jokes, and his non verbal manners. He won't talk about it. Morgen accepts that, and still tries to help and support him, as much as he allows her to.

T - Teach - what skills of theirs would they teach you? what would you teach them?

Not me, but my s/i. He helps her improve her weapon building skills and he teaches her math!! Morgen has very little math knowledge for a person her age, due to being homeschooled and living in a very controlled environment. All her other skills she mastered "by eye" (i cannot remember the exact expression for the life of me; she just guesses/approximates i mean) which is impressive, but she could use a general knowledge of the subject. He is very patient with her. When it comes to R.ocket learning from Morgen, he jokingly suggests that she teaches him to play the piano - obviously she takes it seriously and shows him how to play from time to time. He is truthfully not very interested in it, he prefers to hear her play, but lets her teach him anyways, when he's not busy with anything else or to cheer her up. This isnt exactly a skill but he consequently learned a ton of bug facts from her, not because he wanted to, but Morgen never shuts up about it and he had to accept that. He's come to really enjoy hearing her ramble about insects though, and all the reasons she finds them endearing. He doesnt want to admit it, but he's absolutely in love with her quirkiness and all of her excentric manners and interests - he thinks its both funny and adorable.

＼(*T▽T*)／

[undeadgoathead]

Don't get me wrong, I am still super proud of myself for finding such a cute, affordable flat in such a short amount of time, especially considering the mental/emotional hell I was struggling with from a messy breakup(and the aftermath of which continues to haunt me). And I also take great pride in all the organization, renovations, installations, and interior design that I put into it.

But...I mean... it's still just an apartment. In Albuquerque, no less. I can fluff it up with all the fancy French furniture, expensive appliances, and girly decorations I want. But it will always be kind of hood, just a little bit ghetto, no matter how much I fuss and fawn over the interior. It's what's outside that I'm worried about. Location, location, location!

I mean, in my first week here, I already lost a Louis Vuitton purse (!), as well as brand new rose gold hair straightener and matching curling iron, still in their boxes. Someone probably stole them, so I already mistrust my neighbors. And management acted all buddy-buddy right until the moment I signed the contract and they handed over the key, and then their true colors immediately started to show. When I reported the missing purse and salon products, and asked whether they were covered by my renter's insurance, they never answered the phone, nor returned my many messages, so I guess I just have to take yet another L.

On my first week, a crackhead also followed me up three flights of stairs while my hands were full carrying heavy boxes of stuff, and I barely made it inside in time to lock the door behind me, before he started banging on my nextdoor neighbors' window and begging for a lighter. As annoying and creepy as he was, I can't judge him too harshly for his pathetic addiction, as I also have several of my own. In fact, right before I chucked a used BIC in the crackhead's general direction, just to bribe him to shut the hell up, leave me alone, and go away, I had just googled "how to open a wine bottle without a corkscrew", and tried the so-called "Switchblade Method", with dubious amounts of success. In many ways, he and I are in the same boat. Desperation sucks. Depending on the kindness of strangers sucks. Needing a smoke or a drink as a crutch sucks. Like I get it bro. It could have been me knocking on doors at 10:00 pm asking for a corkscrew. It's whatever, man.

Even though I'm trying to see the best of this place, the property management sure as hell doesn't make it easy! This morning I saw a lease violation notice on my door, for supposedly violating the drape policy... Yeah yeah, I already know, no posters in the windows, no colorful drapes, just plain white curtains or nothing at all, to make the exterior as bland and boring and uninteresting as possible... It's an asinine rule, but one I follow regardless. Homie, I just left the plain white blinds that were already pre installed. Do I really seem like the kind of chick who would install a fluffy set of gawdy floral granny curtains?! Unless... They can't possibly be telling me to take down my drapes I installed on the bedroom doorway, for some kind of privacy, because there was no actual door?! Or maybe even the shower curtain that I had to install by myself and paid out of pocket for, because the landlord never even delivered on his promise to at least give me a freaking tension rod?! Either way, fucking yikes...

Landlords be wilding. Why am I paying nearly $1000 a month just to feel like an unwanted guest in my own home? And homeowners associations are even worse! Like imagine finally breaking out of the paycheck-to-paycheck monthly rent payment poverty cycle, finally being able to afford to buy your own house, the pride of truly being a home owner, of possessing your own personal property at long last, just for your grouchy old neighbors to still be able to tell you what you can and cannot do in your own house...

[stairset]

Overall Padme has a great wardrobe with many swanky outfits but I just can’t bring myself to agree with anyone who says her wardrobe is flawless cause if her wardrobe was flawless then this outfit wouldn’t exist

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

SKZ Drabble-Hyunjin

You're a vampire. He's a werewolf. You live in the same dorm, but that doesn't mean you have to interact right? Wrong. Cue every Friday and Saturday night in the basement laundry mat.

Tags: Stray Kids, SKZ, SKZ Drabble, SKZ imagines, SKZ reactions, SKZ scenarios, Fluff, crack, vampire au, werewolf au, SKZ!vampires, Hwang Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin x you, Hyunjin x reader, Stay

Genre: Fluff, crack

Title: Between the Rinse and Spin Cycle

You know it's him without looking. It's always him.

He sets his heavy laundry bag-black mesh straining-on the machine next to yours, and heaves out a sigh that reminds you too much of a kicked puppy.

You resist the urge to look at him as you select the delicate cycle.

"Mutt."

He doesn't look at you either, long fingers already pushing quarters into the slots of his machine.

"Blood-sucker."

You roll your eyes and as the washing machine rumbles to life, lean back against the warming metal, eyeing him in annoyance.

It had been like this ever since that first fateful Friday night, when both of you had shown up in the nearly empty dorm laundromat, dirty clothes in hand, quarters at the ready.

You had instantly smelled it.

And he had instantly let out a noise entirely too close to a low growl in the back of his throat.

And that was that.

You had come to the uneasy conclusion that neither of you were going to change their laundry doing schedule, because, between school and work and well, you know, nightly routines, there was no time quite like late on Friday and Saturday nights to frequent the deserted laundry room.

So now you tolerated-honestly that was a generous word-each other's presence for the few hours you saw each other on the weekends, the sound of tumbling clothes a constant background to the unfolding drama that was your relationship, if that even could be used in this instance.

You didn't think it should be.

Hyunjin finishes tossing his first load into the washer and slams the door shut with a bang, instantly hopping up to sit on the machine, his usual resting spot for the duration of his laundry endeavors, and eyes you with slightly annoyed amusement in his dark eyes.

"Did you bring your extra strength stain remover for all those blood stains you're gonna have to get out?"

You scoff and shoot him a glare. "Please. I'm not a messy eater. The only blood you'll likely ever see me have to get out is once a month when my uterus tries to kill me."

Hyujin raises a dark brow and it disappears into the blonde of his hairline, and you ignore the brief thought that he's entirely too pretty for one of his species, that he probably has fur the color of sunshine and soft as cashmere when he turns and paws the size of dinner plates.

"How nice of your victims to consider your linens."

You roll your eyes and glare down at the soap you're filling the machine with, all liquid and green and smelling like fresh cotton, whatever the hell that's supposed to smell like.

"As if. This isn't the dark ages. Some of us have advanced, unlike the dogs you must associate with. They're not victims. They're all willing, consensual participants in my feeding and their pleasure. But you probably wouldn't understand that."

Hyunjin laughs, a sharp, sarcastic note, and you resist the urge to look up at him as he leans forward, trying to peer into your face, the tilt of his head oddly reminiscent of a curious puppy, blonde hair falling into his face.

He's not cute. Don't think that.

"If you must know, Vampirina, I am never anything but a gentleman."

You hide the fact that your lips want to curve into the start of a smile as you look up to meet his gaze with a blank look.

"That's cute. Did they teach you that in obedience school?"

Hyunjin grins, his teeth white and straight and perfect.

"I graduated with honors obviously. Top of my class."

You can't help it, you laugh, a short, stilted laugh, but a laugh nonetheless and you don't miss the way Hyunjin's eyes brighten at the sound, enough that you almost imagine him wagging his nonexistent tail.

"Ah. So she does smile."

"Shut up." You slam a finger down to finish the current load of laundry, trying to force your face back into a grimace. "I'm pretty sure I didn't command you to 'speak.'"

Hyunjin is still grinning, smug and altogether too pretty, and he mocks a barking sound as he jumps down from his own washer and begins to switch over his load of lights.

"Pretty sure you don't have a treat for me either, Dracula, and I don't do shit for free."

*****

The next time you run into Hyunjin, he's at the laundromat before you, which is surprising, considering he always seems to be running behind schedule.

Stupid dogs.

The laundry machine is already humming away as you heave your own basket of dirty clothes onto the counter beside him.

"Hey, dog, drool on anyone yet today?"

Hyunjin sticks his pretty pink tongue out at you and you flash him a smirk as you insert your coins and dump your laundry into the waiting washer.

"Not yet. But the night's still young." He hoists himself easily onto the counter and swings his sneakers against the machines as he watches you work, entirely nonplussed. "What about you, Nosferatu? Stick anyone today?"

You keep your features schooled into a blank expression, forcing yourself to ignore the itch under your skin that is Hwang Hyunjin, and toss a capful of detergent into the washer.

"No. Also. You smell."

Hyunjin grins. "Thanks. I went for a jog right before this, just for you."

You shoot him a glare, eyeing the fact that he is indeed wearing nothing but running shorts and a loose tank top which looks slightly damp with sweat, and turn up your nose, sniffing in disdain.

"I prefer my château de'dog a little less fresh and a little more nonexistent."

Hyunjin hops down from the counter, the stupid grin still on his stupid face, and pats your head, as if you're a child and he's simply entertaining your temper tantrum.

You resist the urge to rip his hand off right then and there.

"Don't worry, Hotel Transylvania. I'm an acquired taste, but you'll come around."

"I seriously doubt that." You mutter sourly beneath your breath, probably unheard over the thud of the busy, tumbling washing machines, but unlikely, because you're dealing with a man with literal canine hearing.

Good. You hope he heard.

*****

You're just tossing your delicates into the dryer when you hear the sound of laughter coming through the door, and glancing over your shoulder, your mood instantly sours, because it's none other than wonder dog, and he's not alone.

The red-headed girl who hangs off Hyunjin's arm laughs loudly at something he says under his breath, and his gaze flicks to you, but you're studiously keeping your gaze on the suddenly very interesting dryer knob.

The click of her heels is obnoxious, and besides, who wears heels to the dorm laundromat on a Saturday at 10 PM anyway?

Apparently the people Hwang Hyunjin chooses for company.

You glower at the settings as Hyunjin sets down his laundry bag right beside the dryer you're using, and you catch a whiff of the girl's overly loud and bright perfume, along with something incredibly plain, incredibly human.

Damn, had she used the entire bottle?

Hyunjin leans against the edge of your dryer like he doesn't have a care in the world, and when you glance up to meet his stare with a glare, his lips curve upward into a smug smirk.

"Hey there, Buffy."

You resist the urge to correct him, to snap back that Buffy was actually the Vampire Slayer, not the vampire, but you clamp your mouth shut and resume your laundry, deciding to ignore him.

The girl giggles and leans into Hyunjin's space in a way that has your skin crawling with annoyance, and you're not sure why.

You blame it on the strong, nauseating smell of her perfume.

"Buffy? That's such a cute name!"

You manage a thin lipped smile in her direction. "Thanks." You can feel Hyunjin watching the two of you, waiting for something, but you force yourself to keep eye contact with the girl, to keep your voice casual and level, bored even. "How'd you meet Lawrence Talbot here?"

The girl's forehead crinkles in confusion at your words, and you can practically feel Hyunjin's gaze boring into the side of your head.

Oh you poor dumb thing.

"Well, regardless," You turn back to your final laundry load casually, pulling it all out of the warm dryer and throwing it haphazardly into your basket without looking at either of them. "Make sure you take him for plenty of walks, yeah? He just loves to chase the birds in the park."

You glance up, giving the girl a conspiratorial wink.

"I love the park!" She exclaims shrilly, clinging to Hyunjin's arm and jumping up and down, a feat in such high heels. "Can we go tomorrow, Jinnie? Can we?"

You're pleased to see that Hyunjin looks like he's going to murder you.

"I dunno, Raquel, I kind of have-"

"Have what?" You interrupt, standing up now, basket at your hip, an innocent smile on your face. "I'm sure whatever it is can wait, right, Jinnie? Just long enough for you to take your girlfriend to the park?"

Hyunjin flashes you a look that could kill, that is, if you weren't already dead.

You smile and reach out to pat the girl-Raquel-kindly on the arm before you brush past them toward the door.

"Don't forget his ball!" You call over your shoulder, and catch one more glance of Hyunjin's rage darkened features before you leave the laundry room with a triumphant grin.

*****

"Aw, vacationing alone today, hound?"

Hyunjin shoots you a slight glare as he pushes his quarters into the machine next to you, the metal coins clinking loudly down into the slots one by one.

"Aw-" He mimics you, sticking his tongue out in your direction. "Spending your Friday night at the dorm laundromat again, Count Von Count?"

You roll your eyes. "You're here too. What, did Rachel forget your collar at home or something?"

"First off, her name is Raquel-" Hyunjin fires back, shoving his first load of laundry into the washer before he angrily slams the door and turns to you, arms crossed over his chest. "-and secondly, my collar is currently at the dry cleaners. Leather and all that."

You turn to face him head on, because you're many things, but never one to cower in the face of a fight, especially with a werewolf.

"Did she get you a cute little engraved heart with her name and number on it to hang from the d-ring? So if you get lost, the pound will know where to return you?"

Hyunjin lifts his lip, and the motion reminds you of a wolf, backed into a corner, snarling, teeth on display, but when he speaks, his voice is as low and steady as ever.

"Funny that you think the pound could hold me."

You grin wickedly, every word dripping with sarcastic venom, as you step toward him.

"Funny that you think Raquisha would ever even look your way, let alone date you, if she knew what you really were."

Hyunjin's eyes flick down to your fangs, the tips poking past your lips with your smile, and something in your stomach clenches, though you tell yourself it's just because he's staring at you, and you really hate his guts.

"Let me ask you a question, fangs."

Your eyes flash and you hold your ground, staring him down.

"Bring it, Remus Lupin."

You're ready for a fight. You're more than ready.

So when he heaves a sigh, a sigh that reminds you of a dog settling down after a long day beside the fire, and steps back, hands going into the pockets of his skinny, torn jeans, it catches you off guard, and you instantly feel like you're floundering suddenly.

Hyunjin cocks his head and regards you seriously, allowing a tiny smile to slip across one side of his full lips.

"What about you?"

You open your mouth, confusion clear on your features, and ask bluntly, because you don't know what else to do, "What about me?"

Hyunjin scoffs, more to himself then you, and tilts his head back, long blonde hair dusting his shoulders as he stares at the ceiling for a long moment, the only sound the rumbling of the washer in the background.

Great. You broke him.

Finally, he lets out a self deprecating chuckle and reaching up to rake hair back from his forehead, meets your gaze once more.

"Would you date me? Because you already know what I am."

Your mouth drops open, and Hyunjin's gaze is once again drawn, like a magnet, to the exposal of your fangs.

"Why-" You stutter out, all the quips, all the names, all the quick replies suddenly lost in your shock. "What do you mean?"

Hyunjin grins, his nose crinkling, and steps back toward you, leaning against the washer beside you, your forearms brushing. He's warm, warmer than a usual body, and it instantly soaks into your unusually cold skin like a ray of sun on a winter day.

"I just thought-" He shrugs, laughing again, dark eyes bright. "You know, we do this thing, whatever this is," He motions between you and then to your piles of laundry sitting untouched behind you. "every weekend, and I thought that maybe it was time for me to ask you out on a date that didn't include the dorm laundromat and sharply witty nicknames."

You consider him silently for a moment, and then you slowly nod, because when he puts it that way, it doesn't seem so odd.

You have gotten used to your routine, to Hyunjin being a part of it, and honestly, you could probably get used to him being in parts of your other routines too with a little practice.

"Fine."

Hyunjin looks caught off guard, eyes going wide and bright, like a puppy that has just been granted a treat and a 'good boy.'

"Really?"

"Yes." You nod curtly, once, as you turn to restart the dryer behind you, avoiding his gaze. "You can take me on a date, but-" You hold up a finger and let your lips curl into the hint of a smile as you face him once more. "You can forget about dropping the name-calling, because that's never going to stop, wolfman."

Hyunjin grins, and for a moment, you get lost in the brightness of it.

"You've got yourself a deal, Le'Stat."

[artistic-endchamber]

[] Slowly Pouring Down [] ♥ 𝘽𝙖𝙠𝙪𝙜𝙤𝙪 𝙓 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ♥

♥ 𝘽𝙖𝙠𝙪𝙜𝙤𝙪 𝙓 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ♥

♥ 𝘾𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙤𝙧𝙮: 𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛 ♥

♥ 𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧: 𝙂𝙣! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙓 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙚! 𝘽𝙖𝙠𝙪𝙜𝙤𝙪 ♥

•❣•୨୧ "𝙀𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣, 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙢 𝙄 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙞𝙭." ୨୧•❣•

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Key

"--" Means Y/N is speaking

"--" means Bakugou is speaking

Y/N - Name the character usually calls you (Your Name)

F/N - First name

L/N - Last name

N/N -nickname

Drip, drip, drip.

"My hair, my attitude, my associations...."

You were in your room, on your bed. Staring out the window, you could see the droplets falling from the sky, and some even landed on the window.

You had a game, ever since you were little, that your parents had taught you. Each droplet that lands on the glass of a window when it's raining, is a wish you have to make.

You had decided to mix it up.

Instead of a wish, every droplet was a tiny thing in your life you had to fix.

"....My cowardly-ness."

You had finished the list that you had in your mind, and just sat there, waiting.

waiting for what?

Well...

"Oi, Y/n!" You heard a familiar voice, a strong a gruff one to be exact.

Turning around, you saw a certain Ash-colored-blonde infront of the doorstep.

Your eyes immediately sparkled "Katsuu-!!! Hi-!!!! Come sit down, dont forget the door-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He stepped further inside, and slammed it shut. Sitting down on the bed, he sighed.

"So.... 'Sup with you??" You raised an eyebrow at him, questioningly.

"Nothing, 'Was actually at your doorstep for a long time. I was supposed to be training, but this stupid downpour started. I thought I'd spend time with you or something, but here I find you, listing random stuff out randomly. 'Was just listening though, I didn't peek."

'I- I hadn't meant to be that loud...'

"What was that all about anyway?"

At that point, your mind was running through a million different answers to give him.

'Think, come on!'

'I don't want to lie-'

'But what if he-'

"Promise you wont make fun of me...?"

He raised an eyebrow at you for this question, "Eh? What in the fucking world would I make fun of you for-"

"I- Fine, I'll tell you."

You took a deep breath.

"It's a bit funny actually, When I was little, I loved dancing in the rain, but every time, I would get sick afterwards. One time, I had the weirdest fever ever, and after that, I declared that I absolutely hated the rain."

You paused, looking at Katsuki in the eyes. His face expression hadn't changed, he wasn't laughing, or concerned. Just a blank face, but for some reason, a comfortable one.

"-After that, I refused to look outside when it was raining, look at the clouds, or pretty much do anything associated with raining. But, after a while, My parents taught me this thing, especially when I'm feeling stressed, or hopeful, and it starts to rain, I make a wish for every droplet that falls onto the glass of my window, or my face."

You looked back to him, this time, right in his eyes. They were calmer than you had ever seen.

"So... What was that? What were you listing over this time? Because those deffinetly didn't sound like wishes."

You paused, contemplating whether or not to tell him, but, you had already told him most of it, why hold back?

"I... I was listing what I needed to change."

"What??"

"What I needed different in my life."

He let out the biggest sigh you had ever heard.

"So what was the last one?"

Now, it was your turn to be confused.

"What?"

"The last one, Y/N. The 'My cowardly-ness' bit. What was that about? You ain't a coward, and you know that."

You gulped, you were hoping that he didn't remember that.

why???

Because it was about him.

"I- I'm not a coward like that.... I just- I'm a social coward... I've been liking someone for 6 months now and... I'm too scared to tell them..."

Why were you even telling this to him??? For all you knew, he didn't even know what to say in situations like these, so what was the point?

"Who."

"Huh?"

"Tell me who, and I'll tell them for you. I'll do it for you, and if they reject you, you can act like it never happened."

Your eyes widened. Did you start hearing things?? Or, did he actually say that??

It was literally the most ironic thing ever, your crush was asking you to tell them your crush, so that they could tell them that you liked them. Complicated, but simple.

"..."

"Come on, I don't have all day."

'I wish you did...'

" Okay... His name's Katsuki Bakugou."

"Right, so when- WHAT?!?!?!"

"Yeah."

"SAY THAT AGAIN-"

"His name's Katsuki. Bakugou."

"BUT- BUT I'M-"

"Yeah-... It's you."

He sighed, again, and without even a second to spare, you felt his arms wrap around you. The silence took over, leaving you to just sit there and be hugged by him, until, you heard him speak.

"..."

"I do too."

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ASDFGHJKL THANK YOU FOR READING THIS-!!

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