#also i was SHOCKED to realize it’s been nearly 3 years since i last drew fence fanart

[hyacynthii]

small sketch page of these boys. i’m having a normal one

[deadpresidents]

Unfinished: April 12, 1945

As March 1945 drew to a close, Franklin Delano Roosevelt was exhausted. At the beginning of February, Roosevelt had attended the Yalta Conference with Winston Churchill and Joseph Stalin -- a meeting which required the American President to undertake a physically punishing and extraordinarily dangerous trip halfway around the world to the Crimean Peninsula in the middle of a raging world war. At Yalta, Roosevelt’s appearance had shocked the foreign leaders and their aides. In his last face-to-face meeting with Churchill, on February 18, 1945, FDR was seen as a dead man walking. Churchill’s personal doctor, Lord Moran, told a friend that Roosevelt had “only a few months to live”.

Being President of the United States for just one term is taxing enough on a young man or a healthy man. Franklin Delano Roosevelt had been President for twelve years. He had campaigned for the Presidency and been victorious in four national elections. His Administration faced one of the greatest domestic crises in American History -- the Great Depression -- and the greatest crisis and bloodiest conflict in world history -- World War II. FDR had attacked these problems (and other issues that arose during his terms) with energy, creativity, and a relentless pursuit of victory.

A healthy and athletic man who stood nearly 6′2″ and weighed about 200 lbs. as Assistant Secretary of the Navy under Woodrow Wilson, Franklin Roosevelt had been stricken by polio in 1921. The disease robbed him of his ability to walk and, at the time, looked as if it had robbed him of a political future. He rebounded politically but physically he was never the same. Confined to a wheelchair, the muscles in his legs withered like the branches of a tree in winter. Although he could not walk under his own power, FDR taught himself to stand while wearing heavy steel braces around his shins. He needed the assistance of a muscular partner -- sometimes one of his sons, sometimes a military aide -- in order to feign the appearance of walking. Through sheer will, however, Roosevelt learned to take a few steps without anyone’s help -- a handy skill that he would show off at important campaign rallies. But as he began his unprecedented fourth term in the White House in the early months of 1945, FDR no longer had the energy to show off.

Roosevelt was as gravely ill as Lord Moran suggested. The successful 1944 Presidential campaign had severely drained his already tapped-out reservoirs of energy and stamina. His fourth inauguration was low-key, partly because it took place in the midst of war and partly due to the President’s failing health. Instead of the traditional inaugural ceremonies at the U.S. Capitol, Roosevelt took the Oath of Office at the White House and gave his brief fourth Inaugural Address from a balcony at the Executive Mansion. The famously verbose Roosevelt gave the second-shortest Inaugural Address in American History. By the time the crowd realized that he was talking he had already finished. Only George Washington’s four-sentence-long second Inaugural Address in 1793 was shorter than the address given by FDR on January 20, 1945.

FDR now looked entirely different than the man who had told the nation that “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself” in 1933. Dark circles surrounded his eyes, which seemed sunken into his skull. Since his first Inauguration, Roosevelt had lost 40-50 pounds. His hands shook so violently at times that some observers wondered how he was able to eat. He smoked constantly, but rarely finished his cigarettes. Most shocking of all, FDR no longer went to great lengths to conceal his disability. Frail and tired, he found it almost impossible to wear the heavy braces that he long wore on his crippled legs. On March 1, 1945, Roosevelt addressed a joint session of Congress on the results of his Yalta Conference with Churchill and Stalin. In an unprecedented move, the President sat in a chair on the floor of the House of Representatives and apologized to Congress, beginning his speech by saying, “I hope that you will pardon me for this unusual posture of sitting down during the presentation of what I want to say, but I know that you will realize it makes it a lot easier for me not to have to carry about ten pounds of steel around on the bottom of my legs.” It was the first time that President Roosevelt had ever publicly acknowledged his physical disability.

Twelve years of the Presidency, economic depression and war had strained Roosevelt’s health, but the 14,000-mile trip to the Yalta Conference on the Black Sea had pushed FDR to the limit. On March 30, 1945, Roosevelt arrived in Warm Springs, Georgia for a few weeks of relaxation and, hopefully, recuperation. Roosevelt loved Warm Springs. He had started visiting the small town in western Georgia in the 1920s, hoping that the warm waters from the natural mineral springs nearby would help him regain the use of his legs. When he was Governor of New York, FDR purchased a small house that he used when he visited Warm Springs. As President, the home was called the “Little White House” and although FDR only visited it sixteen times during his Presidency, many of those trips were for 2-3 weeks each. When his train pulled into Warm Springs at about 1:30 PM on March 30, 1945, many longtime residents said that things seemed different. Roosevelt looked terrible and while he waved to onlookers, it was with noticeable weakness.

The first few days in Georgia were tough. FDR was obviously ill and seemed to struggle making it through a church service on Easter Sunday. Roosevelt also avoided his beloved Warm Springs pools. Instead, the President rested, caught up on sleep, and visited with guests. The goal was for FDR to regain enough of his health to make a trip to San Francisco for the charter meeting of what would become the United Nations. At the Little White House with Roosevelt were some personal aides, military attaches, and cousins Daisy Suckley and Polly Delano. During his first week at Warm Springs, Roosevelt did very little work, dictating a few letters and reading briefings, stronger and more animated in the mornings and evenings but completely drained in the afternoon. Another goal for Roosevelt was to gain weight -- by the time he left Warm Springs, he hoped to be up to 170 lbs.

Still, there was no noticeable improvement in FDR’s health or spirits. Then, on April 9th, Lucy Mercer Rutherfurd arrived. As President Wilson’s Assistant Secretary of the Navy, Franklin D. Roosevelt had become involved in a passionate love affair with his wife’s social secretary, Lucy Mercer. It was 1918 when Eleanor Roosevelt discovered the affair between Franklin and Lucy and threatened to divorce him unless he promised never to see or speak to Lucy again. FDR agreed to the ultimatum -- an ultimatum that was strengthened by his mother’s threat to cut off his inheritance if he and Eleanor were divorced, as well as the fact that Franklin’s budding political career would be crushed if the affair was revealed. The relationship between FDR and Eleanor was never again passionate or loving after the discovery of the affair, but Eleanor kept her word and remained married to Franklin. Franklin, however, didn’t keep his word to Eleanor.

The Franklin-Lucy affair probably resumed shortly after Roosevelt’s first Inauguration in 1933.  By that time, FDR and Eleanor had more of a professional relationship than a personal one. He respected the First Lady’s political viewpoints, supported her activism, used her as a sounding board, and tried to act on many of her suggestions. Personally, however, there was no passion or tenderness or intimacy between the First Couple. It was FDR and Eleanor’s daughter, Anna, who helped rekindle Franklin’s relationship with Lucy. She arranged for Lucy to visit the President in the White House when Eleanor was out of town. And on April 9, 1945, Lucy Mercer Rutherfurd was in Warm Springs, Georgia visiting President Roosevelt due to Anna Roosevelt’s invitation.

FDR was so excited to see Lucy that he didn’t wait for Lucy to make the drive all the way from Aiken, South Carolina to Warm Springs. The President and his cousin Daisy decided to meet Lucy’s car en route. At Manchester, Georgia, 85 miles away from Warm Springs, the highway rendezvous took place. FDR looked happier than he had in months as Lucy got into FDR’s car along with her friend, painter Elizabeth Shoumatoff. Lucy had brought Shoumatoff along to paint a portrait of the President -- a portrait that she hoped would be an improvement on the recent photographs that had made Roosevelt look “ghastly”.

For the next two days, Roosevelt and Lucy enjoyed their time together, going on small drives, eating happy meals, and sitting together while Shoumatoff prepared to paint the President’s portrait, studying photographs and making preliminary drawings. Daisy Suckley had the opportunity to observe the unique relationship between FDR and Lucy Mercer and also had some private conversations with the President’s longtime mistress. In her diary, Daisy recorded her thoughts about the two after she accompanied them on an automobile drive that they took: “Lucy is so sweet with F(ranklin) -- No wonder he loves to have her around -- Toward the end of the drive, it began to be chilly and she put her sweater over his knees -- I can imagine just how she took care of her husband -- She would think of little things which make so much difference to a semi-invalid, or even a person who is just tired, like F(ranklin).”

On April 12th, President Roosevelt woke up and ate a light breakfast. He had a slight chill despite the warm, humid weather that day and wore his cape draped over his shoulders throughout the early afternoon. Roosevelt did a little bit of work, reading the Atlanta newspapers and dictating some correspondence. Elizabeth Shoumatoff had set up her easel in the living room where the President worked behind a card table that served as his makeshift desk. As Shoumatoff painted, FDR continued reading, and at about 1:00 PM, Roosevelt said, “We have got just about fifteen minutes more to work.”

In the quiet of the room, Daisy Suckley thought that the President had dropped his cigarette and was searching for it because his head slumped forward suddenly. Roosevelt could barely lift his head when Daisy asked what was wrong. He placed his left hand gently against the back of his head and, in a barely audible voice, told Daisy, “I have a terrific pain in the back of my head!”

Roosevelt quickly slipped into unconsciousness as the women in the room summoned help. They called for a doctor who was staying in a cottage close to the Little White House and they helped two of FDR’s valets carry the President into the bedroom. Roosevelt’s hands and feet were ice cold, but he was still breathing. Smelling salts were administered but FDR was unresponsive. As the doctor and aides tried to help the President, Lucy Mercer Rutherfurd and Elizabeth Shoumatoff recognized the hopelessness of the situation. They also recognized the potential scandal that was possible if it was learned that the President collapsed in the presence of his longtime mistress.

Shoumatoff packed up all of her paints and the unfinished portrait she had been working on. Lucy Mercer grabbed her belongings and took one last look at her beloved Franklin. He was still alive when they left, but he was breathing laboriously and his eyes no longer recognized Lucy. Lucy and Elizabeth Shoumatoff had been on the highway back to Aiken, South Carolina for an hour when President Franklin Delano Roosevelt died in Warm Springs at 3:35 PM. The official cause of death was a cerebral hemorrhage. FDR was 63 years old.

Eleanor Roosevelt was notified of her husband’s death a few minutes after 4:00 PM. She summoned Vice President Harry Truman to the White House while he was having a drink at the U.S. Capitol with House Speaker Sam Rayburn. Truman wasn’t told why he needed to hastily come to the White House, but he knew it sounded urgent. As Truman left the Capitol, he ran into a young Congressman who questioned the Vice President about his speedy exit -- a young Congressman named Lyndon Johnson.

At the White House at 5:30 PM, Eleanor Roosevelt broke the news to the Vice President simply a directly: “Harry, the President is dead.” Truman was stunned and asked what he could do for the widowed First Lady. Eleanor smiled sadly and asked, “Is there anything we can do for you? For you are the one in trouble now.” At 7:00 PM, Chief Justice Harlan Fiske Stone administered the Oath of Office to Truman as the 33rd President of the United States.

By that time, Eleanor was on her way to Warm Springs to claim her husband’s body. At about midnight, she arrived at the Little White House in Georgia where she asked about her husband’s last hours. It was then that she learned news almost as shocking as the President’s death. Eleanor found out that FDR had been with his former mistress Lucy Mercer Rutherfurd when he was stricken. She spent 45 minutes alone with his body, picked out the clothing for his burial, but never lost her composure despite the shocks that she experienced that day.

A funeral train returned FDR’s body to Washington, D.C. the next day. Roosevelt was embalmed by morticians who found that the President’s arteries were so hardened that they could barely inject the embalming fluid into his body. FDR’s body laid in state in the East Room of the White House almost 80 years to the day that Abraham Lincoln’s body rested in the very same place following his assassination. On the 80th anniversary of Lincoln’s death -- April 15, 1945 -- Franklin Delano Roosevelt was buried in the garden of his beloved estate Hyde Park on the Hudson River in New York. Upon his death, the New York Times wrote of the deceased President:

“Men will thank God on their knees a hundred years from now that Franklin D. Roosevelt was in the White House. It was his hand, more than that of any other single man, that built the great coalition of the United Nations. It was his leadership which inspired free men in every part of the world to fight with greater hope and courage. Gone is the fresh and spontaneous interest which this man took, as naturally as he breathed air, in the troubled and the hardships and the disappointments and the hopes of little men and humble people.” 

Elizabeth Shoumatoff’s Unfinished Portrait of President Roosevelt -- which she was working on when he died -- now hangs in the Little White House in Warm Springs, Georgia.

[vannahfanfics]

Stereo Hearts

Category: Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Denki Kaminari, Kyoka Jiro

Hello, everyone! It is my pleasure to present my story for the @kmjr-mini-bang! A super big thanks to my partner @chiztec​ who drew an absolutely stunning piece to accompany my story, as well as Amii and nish, who were kind enough to beta my story. I hope you all enjoy the finished product! 

Denki sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night. He laid on his bed, thumbs twiddling as his hands were clasped over his stomach. His worried gaze could have bored holes into the ceiling if he had the right Quirk. He felt a little silly, fretting so relentlessly over something as simple as a high school graduation. For most students, it was a time of excitement, a chapter of transition in their lives as they went bungling on into adulthood. Denki was eagerly looking forward to getting out there and showing the world what Chargebolt could do. Adulthood wasn’t exactly what he was worried about. 

He hadn’t told Kyoka that he loved her yet. 

“Jeez, that sounds right out of some corny chick flick,” he groaned and rubbed his palms over his eyes. He grimaced as nervous sweat smeared across his face. He flopped his arms back down against the bed with another forlorn exhale, eyes lidded as he envisioned the beautiful, talented girl he’d fallen head-over-heels for their first year. Everything had seemed to get in the way of professing his feelings for her, and also, he felt a little… unworthy. He was a great big massive dork, not nearly cool enough to even be seen with someone as pretty and sophisticated as Kyoka. 

He’d probably short-circuit and go into “yay” mode when tried to confess to her. 

Groaning, he rolled onto his side to grab his phone off the charger. It wasn’t like he was sleeping anyway. As he unlocked it, his thumb came to rest over the screen, and his golden eyes stared at the time burning in white numbers in the center of the display. The time was inching closer to midnight. Soon, it would officially be the day of his graduation. The realization sent a sinking feeling spiraling into the pit of his stomach. 

He was running out of time. Everyone made well-intentioned promises to keep in touch after high school, but everyone knew that almost never panned out. You went on, to college or to a career, you got insanely busy, and next thing you know you haven’t talked to anyone you know in years and made new friendships. Denki swallowed thickly, mindlessly bringing up his favorite picture of Kyoka in his gallery. She was smiling brightly, so hard her eyes were scrunched up into little half-moons. She’d made that face for Denki when he’d surprised her for her birthday with an expensive album she’d been eyeing since its release. When she’d smiled at him like that, he’d almost electrocuted everyone in the room because he’d been so damn in love. 

He was still so damn in love. 

He pulled up Kyoka’s contact information. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. Would she even be awake right now? He wondered with a tiny sigh. Probably not. It was the middle of the night. Still, he found himself texting out a message.

Hey, are you awake? 

He rolled back over and set the phone down on his chest to stare up at the ceiling again. He fully expected his message to go unanswered, so he began losing himself in the confusing stream of “what ifs” and regretting every moment he never chose to tell Kyoka how he felt. He was so lost in thought that he nearly jumped out of his skin when the message alert rang through his quiet bedroom. He fumbled with his sweaty hands to pull up Kyoka’s response. 

Yeah, I’m awake. What’s up? 

A sappy smile bloomed on his lips, and he rolled over, snuggling into his mattress while typing out his reply. 

Just thinking. What about you? 

Three dots popped up on the message screen, quickly followed by a simple, Same. 

Denki ruminated on his thoughts for a moment, thumb hovering over the keyboard. He didn’t even really know what he wanted to say, or what he wanted to do. He wasn’t enough of an ass to confess to Kyoka over text, no… It had to be more special than that, something that she was deserving of. 

A cheesy grin slowly appeared on his face as he recounted a conversation he’d overheard—  Kyoka talking to Mina about her favorite romance movie tropes. Believe it or not, Kyoka secretly adored them and often requested them for the girls’ movie nights. He’d always stored that information in the back of his mind, just in case it would ever become useful… 

Yeah… he thought deviously. He threw off his covers and scrambled over to his closet to throw on something halfway-decent. He couldn’t profess his undying love in a pair of All Might pajama pants, after all. He inspected himself in the mirror after wiggling into a pair of skinny jeans and a band tee-shirt that Kyoka had bought for his last birthday. He licked the palm of his hand to slick down the flyaways in his blond hair, turned his face left and right, and then gave his reflection finger-guns. 

“You got this. You’re a stud. Ladies love ya!” He grinned encouragingly. He held the expression until his face hurt, trying to will the confidence into existence. Then, he flopped his arms and hung his head in defeat. “She’s probably gonna laugh,” he snorted. “But,” he added, peeking through his bangs at the mirror. “I still gotta try!” 

Before his courage could fail him, Denki snatched up the vintage stereo sitting on his desk— another birthday present from Kyoka— and scurried out of the room, hopping on one foot down the hall trying to slip on his Converse. He slowly tip-toed past Tenya’s dorm clutching his stereo to his chest; their class representative had a nose for trouble, especially Denki’s shenanigans, and had caught the blond many a night trying to sneak away and get up to no good. It seemed that luck was on Denki’s side this evening, as he made it to the stairwell without inciting a peep for the tall bespectacled boy’s room. He breathed a sigh of relief and gathered himself for a moment before proceeding downstairs. 

He treaded carefully, having long since memorized the creaky spots in the wood in his many misadventures. The tip of his tongue peeked out of his lips as he used the sparse moonlight to guide his steps down to the first floor. It was slow going, but the even best-laid plans were ruined by haste. He could feel his cell phone vibrating in his back pocket, probably Kyoka wondering why he suddenly stopped texting her. 

All in due time, my dear Kyoka! <3

When Denki reached the first-floor landing, he cautiously peered out into the gloom. It wouldn’t be the first time he surprised another student who had fallen asleep in the lounge, or worse, Mr. Aizawa, who had relocated to the common room to stay up late grading assignments. Thankfully, Lady Luck was generous and granted him passage through his second trial; the lounge was empty. 

Denki stole away through the darkness, like a thief in the night, to the back door. He grimaced as it creaked loudly and looked over his shoulder. After an agonizing half-minute of silence, no one emerged from the dark to scold him, so he elected that the coast was clear. He slipped outside, and the warm wind immediately enveloped him, clouding him with a cologne of night-blooming flowers and dew. He stared out into the side alley, the concrete path that led him to the space just beneath Kyoka’s balcony— and began to doubt. 

I’m really going out on a limb here, he gulped and clutched the stereo to his chest until the metal creaked. His absolute worst nightmare wasn’t Kyoka rejecting him… but laughing at him. He tried to tell himself that Kyoka would never do something so callous, but he worried all the same. It was such a frightening thing, putting yourself out there. The mind tried to worm its way out of it whenever possible. 

But it’s now or never! Even if she laughs at me… If I don’t do this now, I’ll regret not doing it for the rest of my life! 

Denki was going to go out on this limb, even if it broke underneath him and he plummeted headlong into bitter heartbreak. He could always put himself back together again. Resolute, he tromped down the small alleyway to the rows of balconies jutting out from the dorm. 

He counted under his breath until he found Kyoka’s sliding glass doors and fluttering curtains. He set the stereo down by his feet and finally pulled out his phone to discover a series of confused messages from Kyoka. 

Hello? You text me first, and then don’t answer me? What’s up with that? 

He smiled, sensing that playful bite in her tone that he’d fallen head-over-heels in love with. 

Come out onto your balcony, he answered. Before he could stow his cellphone, it buzzed with a quick reply. 

What? Why? 

Just do it! He insisted in mild panic. He’d failed to consider that Kyoka would just tell him to shove off and go to bed. As nervous sweat condensed on his forehead, he heard the faint click of the door. He jerked in shock, inadvertently dropping his phone face-down on the concrete. He cringed, already imagining the crack spiderwebbing across the glass screen.

“Denki?” he heard Kyoka call suspiciously as he ducked down to hit the power button on the stereo. It automatically started up a CD of Kyoka’s favorite songs that he’d burned on the off-chance that he would need it. Just as she came to the edge of the balcony, he straightened up and swept his hand through his hair, smiling bashfully. Her eyes widened, refracting the moonlight as her ears drank in the pretty tune streaming from the stereo’s large speakers. “Denki?” she repeated perplexedly. “What are you doing?” 

He nudged down the volume with his toe while a blush rose to his cheeks. 

“Look, I know this is corny as hell, and you probably don’t appreciate being called out at three in the morning, but I’m kinda desperate here,” he admitted, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck and chuckling. “You know how I told you I was thinking? I was thinking about you. How your smile lights up my whole life, and when you sing it sounds like an angel walking this Earth, and how damn lucky I feel to have shared these last three years with you. How cute you are when you laugh, and gush about romance movies when you think nobody notices, and how badass you are that it leaves me breathless.” 

As he rambled on and on about everything he absolutely adored about her, Kyoka’s face glowed like a pink opal in the moonlight and her wide eyes glimmered like gems. By this time, the noise had attracted the other girls from their dorm rooms, and they sleepily peered out at Denki pouring out his heart and soul to their startled classmate. His cheeks darkened with embarrassment, but he’d already said so much; there was no going back now. 

“I was thinking about how stupidly in love I am with you, and how if I don’t tell you now that I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. So I love you, Kyoka, and I’d be really stoked if you’d go out with me.” 

A ripple of gasps rang out from the girls’ mouths, and they all looked expectantly at Kyoka. The girl gulped audibly and pawed at her dark hair, which was sticking up in odd places and tousled with sleep. Her earjacks nervously writhed above her shoulders and her eyes cast down as she considered Denki’s confession. All the while, he stood there holding his breath, waiting and listening to the love song serenade the silence. 

He was beginning to feel a bit faint and like he was going to start sparking when her eyes finally flickered up to meet his own. 

“I’d be really stoked to go out with you, too.” 

The girls erupted into cheers and squeals, jumping up and down while clapping their hands. Kyoka blushed under their ecstatic congratulations. Their whoops and hollers attracted the boys from across their halls, meandering out onto the girls’ balconies to investigate what all the fuss was about. Denki shrunk under all the attention, twiddling his fingers and turning as red as a tomato. 

“Aw, congratulations, you two!” Izuku called with a big smile. 

“It’s about damn time,” Katsuki grumped from beside Eijirou and Ochako. “I was getting sick and damn tired about him mooning over her like a lovesick sap.” 

“Hey, bro! Don’t you have a nicer way to say congrats?” the redhead scolded, making Katsuki snarl. 

“Denki Kaminari!” came the expected chastising. Denki flinched and grinned apologetically at Tenya, who was gestating emphatically on Tooru’s balcony with his nightcap flapping. “What is the meaning of this? I understand the romanticism, but it is the eve of our graduation ceremony! It is imperative that we be rested to do justice to our prestigious institution, not straggle in like zombies! Have you no sense of decorum?” 

“Oh, can it, class rep,” Mina chided. Tenya leaned down over the balcony railing with an affronted gasp. The pink girl’s smile was wide as she winked at Denki. “So, stud. Are you gonna just stand there, or are you gonna come give your new girlfriend a kiss?” 

“Mina!” Kyoka hissed, turning her head so hard and fast that Denki swore he heard her bones snap. Denki jumped, stuttering nonsensities, and dipped down to retrieve his stereo. It was still blaring as he sprinted back into the dorm and up the stairs. Kyoka was standing in her doorway as he came barreling up the steps, tripping over the laces of his Converse and nearly plowing headfirst into the wall. The rest of the students watched with bated breath, crowding in the other doorways and on the steps behind him. 

“Hey, Kyoka,” Denki swallowed, holding the stereo to his chest as he timidly approached her. His breaths came in ragged gasps from his rapid staircase sprint, and a sheen of sweat stuck his hair to his forehead. He doubted that he looked the picture of handsome— but Kyoka still smiled coyly as he approached, tucking her hair behind her ears and staring at him like he was her knight in shining armor. His golden eyes never left hers as he set the stereo on the floor and rubbed his palms on the denim fabric of his jeans.

“Hey, Denki,” she smiled shyly. His heart fluttered just at the sweet sound of her voice, and he swore he fell in love all over again in that moment. His body moved instinctively as his mind was ensnared by her unconscious charm, stepping close to her and using his index finger to slowly tip up her chin. He sucked in a breath, enchanted by her shy little gaze and slightly parted lips. 

“You’re so beautiful.” 

“Just kiss her already, you asshole, I’m tired!” Katsuki yelled from down the hall, making both of them jump. He heard Eijirou scold him under his breath and elbow him in the ribs, making Katsuki unleash a string of unflattering curses. After the fiery blond’s grumbles had died down, Denki smiled bashfully at the pink-cheeked Kyoka. She fluttered her eyelashes demurely, then flickered her gaze down to his lips. 

Well, if he was waiting for an invitation, that damn sure was it. 

Without further ado, Denki leaned in to gently capture her in a sweet kiss. His heart sung as she hummed slightly, making his hair stand on end. He almost wondered if he’d strayed into a dream, that his fantastical whimsies had come to fruition only in his subconscious. However, when he pulled back and opened his eyes, he knew he was awake. He could never dream the way she looked at him then, with such utter adoration that it made his heart ache. 

“All right. Show’s over,” Katsuki grumbled, skulking off toward his room. Denki rolled his eyes but leaned down to finally switch off the stereo. When he straightened back up, their classmates had retreated into their rooms— leaving them alone. Kyoka shyly swung from side-to-side, hugging herself with a sheepish grin. 

“That was pretty smooth,” she admitted. 

“Really?” he asked excitedly. Her cheeks darkened a shade of pink, and then she nodded. Denki suppressed the wild urge to embarrass himself with a happy jig. Kyoka would probably find it charming, but he wanted to hang on to some sense of decorum, as Tenya had put it. After several minutes of staring adoringly at one another, Denki finally drawled dreamily, “Well… We should probably get back to bed… Tenya’ll be mad if we’re tired at the ceremony tomorrow.” 

“Yeah,” she said, sounding just as enthused about ending the moment as he was. Neither of them moved for several seconds. “You should go, Denki,” she reminded him, finally prompting his sluggish body to move. He scooped up his stereo, never breaking eye contact, before rising to clutch it to his chest. “I’ll see you later,” she reassured him with a light laugh, before retreating into her room. She didn’t close the door, just gazed at him like he’d hung the moon in the sky— and he would, for her. 

“Yeah,” he said as he began backing away towards the end of the hall. When she finally shut the door, he risked his happy dance, jitterbugging back to his room. Just as he flopped onto his bed, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out with furrowed brows, and then broke into a stupid smile. 

I’m looking forward to our date. 

His thumbs flew across the screen to type up a reply as he rolled on his side and snuggled into bed. 

Me too. Goodnight, Kyoka. 

She must have drifted off, because there was no reply. That was all right. After a minute of goofily admiring her contact picture, he finally put his phone on the charger and settled into bed. Sleep took him easily this time, gifting him dreams of what was to come.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[wrenhyperfixates]

Loki Odinson’s Guide on How to Woo a Noble

Epilogue

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: You and Loki are both of age to court and he must make it official before he loses his confidence. Warnings: just a fluffy end to a fluffy miniseries  A/N: Ask and ye shall receive @blue-and-yellow-jjk-pjm and @frostedgiantfavs (sorry it wasn’t letting me tag ur main for some reason 😑) Sorry, it’s another short one, but I’m hoping that when I have more time I can go back to longer stories. All the same, I hope you enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02​

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

It was a lovely day in his mother’s gardens as Loki walked the familiar cobblestone paths with you. Unlike your usual strolls, you were not joined by Lupus this time. Loki knew he would have enough things to worry about without his fluffy friend covering him in slobber. You’d stopped to examine some new flower Frigga had planted, and while Loki would have usually gladly joined you, he was feeling too antsy to focus right now. Nearly two weeks had elapsed since your birthday, and he knew that if this were going to continue in an appropriate manner, he’d have to make his intentions clear. Logically, he shouldn’t be so nervous. After all, you had shared a kiss after the solstice ball that led to some more stolen moments of hand holding, and you wore the bracelet he gave you every day. All of which were scandalous in their own rights, of course. Not to mention the newest bauble he’d gifted to you on your birthday, a necklace with a pendant in the shape of a shooting star to remind you of the night you’d met. The aforementioned present was currently dangling from your neck, much to Loki’s excitement. He’d noticed that you tended to tuck it away in public settings, understandably so. That’s why it was so important he declare the courtship official.

“Everything alright, Loki?” you asked, begging to walk again. “You seem nervous.”

He gulped, fearing that the fact you hadn’t figured out his plan meant you were not interested. Maybe he was reading into everything too much and you just wanted to be friends. What if he asked, and you felt like you had no choice? What if you said no, and he made everything awkward? Maybe he should just forget it in the hopes that you could remain friends forever. Then again, he wasn’t sure he could live seeing you share your affections with another. Or maybe you’re just being overdramatic, the voice in his head whispered.

“Loki? Did you hear me? Are you feeling ill?” you spoke again when he said nothing.

“Oh, yes. I mean, yes, I heard you. Not that I’m ill. What I mean is that, well, I guess that what I mean is I am fine,” he lamely finished, clearing his throat. He never really did get past being tongue tied around you.

“I see,” you said, stifling a laugh at his rambling. “That is very good to hear.”

This was not going the way Loki planned at all. In his mind, he was as suave and articulate as ever, but on the outside, he felt like a bumbling fool. He was about ready to give up and try another day, when he passed a very familiar looking tree. Then inspiration struck.

“You know,” he began, “for all the times you have found me in a tree, I do not believe you have ever joined me.”

“No, I suppose I haven’t,” you admitted, nervously shifting your weight.

“Fancy a climb then?”

“Maybe it’s better if I didn’t, Loki. I’m not as graceful as you. I’ll probably land flat on my face.”

“You forget that when I first met you, I fell out of a tree. This very same one, actually,” he said, hoping that it’s sentimental effect would get you to agree.

“I still don’t know,” you replied, though now with less apprehension in your voice.

“Besides, you are one of the most graceful creatures to ever walk on this planet. Or any other, for that matter.” You looked away bashfully, flattered by his compliment. He knew you just needed one last push to concede. “And anyway, I will be there to help you. I will never let you get hurt. Ever,” he added for good measure.

“Ok, fine,” you relented. “Only since you promised.”

He took your hand in his, something that still made butterflies in his stomach, and led you over to the tree. As he helped you find the first foothold in the gnarled bark, he held you steady, intending to make good on his promise. After instructing you from the ground a bit, Loki began his own ascent, still calling directions up to you. Eventually you reached a sturdy bough and sat down, Loki close behind you. You peered over the edge, letting out a nervous, breathy laugh.

“See, that was not so bad, now was it?”

“Absolutely terrifying,” you admitted, “but also a lot of fun.”

He was content to just sit with you in the branches talking about this and that, avoiding the subject he really had to bring up. Though there were plenty of opportunities for Loki to turn the conversation back in the direction he wanted, he was beginning to lose his nerve again. He tried to remember his talk last night with Thor, who had been uncharacteristically helpful. Loki had been lamenting over the fact that you would probably turn him down if he asked to court you. And, knowing you, you’d do it in the nicest way possible, which may hurt even more than if you blew up at him, since it would be one last painful reminder of how amazing you are.

“Well, you walk with them all the time on the palace grounds, do you not?” Thor had said. “It is the perfect place to officially start a courtship.”

“Yes, we do love it, that is true. But what if they say no and I have ruined our haven?” Loki worried aloud.

“Brother, when will you stop doubting yourself? If only you were as confident in this as you are in everything else. Then this would not be an issue.”

Of course, Thor had yet to realize that all of Loki’s swagger was a carefully manufactured image. Still, he was glad it worked well enough to fool even those close to him. He looked over to where his brother was flopped on the couch in the sitting room, casually tossing and catching one of the pillows that resided there.

“This is different,” he finally said, gingerly sitting down next to his brother, hoping to avoid being hit with the pillow.

“Listen, Loki. Are you or are you not a Prince of Asgard?”

“Well-”

“And are you or are you not already courting them in every way but name?”

“I suppose but-”

“And did they or did they not accompany you to the solstice ball? The point I’m trying to make here is you can do this, brother.”

Loki came out of his reverie as you said his name. He responded with a quirked eyebrow and rapt attention. He had a feeling that you were going to ask to get down now, and he so hated that he’d squandered his chance to make his move.

“I wanted to say, what I mean is...”

“Yes?”

“Loki Odinson,” you began again after clearing your throat, “I want to court you.”

He was shocked and didn’t quite know how to respond. As the prince, he should have been asking you, though there was nothing technically wrong with you asking him. Even so, never in his wildest dreams did he imagine things going down this way.

“Or I want you to court me or us to court each other or whatever the proper wording is,” you mumbled, staring at your hands, misinterpreting his surprise as disinterest.

“I would like that very much. In fact,” he reassured you with a small chuckle, “I was about to ask you the very same thing.”

You launched yourself into his arms in over-enthusiastic hug that had you both tumbling off the branch you were perched on. Somehow, Loki managed to get his body under you to soften the impact of your landing. Of course, that turned you into a flustered mess and had you scrambling off him within seconds of hitting the ground. Even through your embarrassment, though, you were both laughing.

“Well,” Loki said with a smile, dusting himself off and helping you up, “I suppose it makes sense that this is how we begin our official courtship.”

“Yeah,” you agreed with a grin of your own. “It really does.”

Having regained your footing, you gave him another hug, without falling this time, of course. He held you, too, and felt warmth spread throughout this body, emanating from his full heart. As the night drew in, earlier than normal because of the time of the year, Loki wrapped you in his cloak to keep away the chill, something that never really bothered him. You proudly clasped his hand as you walked, your bright smile practically lighting the darkening gardens. Approaching the Great Hall in high spirits, you both made ready to announce the good news to the rest of Asgard.

And they lived happily ever after.

[whump-tr0pes]

HB4-31/Whumptober day 9

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3.

AO3

Masterlist

~

She’s here.

Content warning: emesis, mention of dissoci@tion, PTSD, unplanned pregnancy, mention of consensual sex, description of birth, past torture

~

Ellis lurched forward, their hand covering their mouth where they sat hunched over the puzzle. They leapt to their feet and dashed from the living room.

Finn stared after them, concern pinching their mouth. They glanced at Vera where she stood in the kitchen, framed by the half-wall, a cutting board full of chopped potatoes held aloft in her hand. Tori stood at the counter. Her arms wrapped tightly around her own chest and she shrank slightly towards Vera. She looked towards the bathroom. Her eyes were fogged and distant, and her lips pressed into a thin, nervous line.

Not Tori’s worst day. At least she knew where she was today.

Finn got to their feet and made their way across the living room and down the hall towards the bedrooms, pausing just outside the bathroom door as Ellis vomited loudly into the toilet.

“Oh, babe,” Finn murmured, dropping to their knees beside Ellis and gently pulling back their short black hair from their face. “I’m so sorry.”

Ellis dry-heaved, their stomach empty after throwing up on and off for the past two days. They groaned, slumping against the toilet seat. Finn smoothed back Ellis’s sweaty hair with one hand and rubbed their back with the other.

“What the fuck,” Ellis groaned. They reached for the handle and flushed the toilet. They got up on one knee and pushed themself to their feet. Finn helped to stabilize them as they leaned over the sink and washed their mouth out.

“I’m sorry,” Finn said softly, gently rubbing their hands up and down Ellis’s arms. “I don’t know what it is… Maybe it was something you ate, but… we’ve been eating the same stuff…”

“It’s fine,” Ellis said, already sounding better. “I think that was the last of it. Although, that’s what I thought yesterday…” They drew their hand over their face. It still shone with sweat, but the color was back in their cheeks. “Sorry that’s so gross.”

“I’ll try and get more Zofran from town tomorrow,” Finn murmured, and drew Ellis into a hug. “Although I hope this is over by then.”

“Probably will be, babe,” Ellis said with an awkward shrug as they pulled out of Finn’s grasp. They gave Finn a tired smile and walked out of the bathroom, back towards the living room. “I really am feeling a lot better.” Finn followed right behind.

“Still feeling sick?” Tori said. Her voice sounded thin, frightened, but… Finn heard the shadow of the person she was before. Ever since they escaped, Tori had been slowly, slowly emerging from the wasteland that had been made of her mind. She had only been able to be coaxed out by two people: Vera, and Ellis. Under the fear, Finn could hear the person who’d kept them all safe and cared for them for months as they all recovered from Gavin. She stood in the doorway of the kitchen, her muscles pulled tight under her skin. Always ready to run. Always ready to hide, or just stand there and take the shocks.

Three weeks later, and she still had days where she waited for the shocks. Finn blinked and shook their head to clear it.

“Yeah,” Ellis griped as they crossed to the couch and sat down again. They pulled the blanket around their shoulders and took a sip of their tea.

Vera covered the pot on the stove and turned it down to a low heat. She walked to Tori’s side and wound an arm around her waist, looking into the living room at Ellis. A wry smile twisted her mouth. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were pregnant.”

Finn froze. Ellis’s head snapped up and they stared at them with wide eyes.

“Oh, fuck,” Finn breathed.

The silence pounded in Finn’s ears.

“F-Finn,” Ellis whispered. “I am late. I thought it was just the, um, the stress, but…” Their hand drifted to their stomach and rested there, almost unconsciously. Their mouth hung open, their eyes unfocused. “Yeah,” they rasped. “I’m a week late.”

The room lurched around Finn, and they thought they might throw up.

“But I…” Finn stared at Ellis, dumbfounded. “But we…” They thought back over the last three weeks, the sex they’d had every day – multiple times a day, in every position they could think of and a few Finn had never even heard of before – since they and Ellis had been reunited. They’d gone through several boxes of condoms, blushingly having to go ask Gray to bring them more with every trip into town. They’d worn a condom every single time. Finn fell back a step, looking up in confusion as the walls moved around them, zooming out and zooming in at the same time.

A bolt of realization hit them and they met Ellis’s eyes, and Finn knew they were having the exact same thought.

“The first morning,” they said at the exact same time.

“Oh, god,” Finn whimpered, tearing their hands through their hair. “Oh, god, oh, fuck, I, I don’t…”

“Holy shit,” Ellis whispered from the couch.

Finn couldn’t focus their eyes. There wasn’t enough air in the room. “Oh, god, oh, what if I, if I, oh god, I don’t know how to, to be a fucking, parent, Ellis, what are we gonna do, I… oh, holy fuck…”

Ellis appeared in front of them, and Finn clutched at their arms. “Oh, Ellis, is this… is this okay? I’m sorry, I… I didn’t… mean to…”

Their eyes focused, and they realized Ellis was grinning. More than that, their joy was radiating off of them, crinkling their eyes, pulling their lips into the biggest smile Finn had ever seen on Ellis. Suddenly, tears were streaming down Finn’s face.

“Oh, god,” they babbled, sobbing in Ellis’s arms without being sure when they actually started crying. “Oh g-god, Ellis, we, we talked about it… so long ago, and I know that… so much happened, and I don’t… I never… I didn’t think it would, would happen, and, oh, god, are we ready?” Finn fumbled for Ellis’s hands and they squeezed. Ellis’s hands were so warm, and Finn realized their hands were freezing. “I mean, is this… do we… I mean, a baby? Oh, Jesus Christ, I… I don’t know how to…”

“Finn,” Ellis said gently, tilting Finn’s chin up until they met their eyes. “Shhh.”

“Do we even have the, the facilities? I mean, risk of complication is—” Finn cut themself off with a choke, paling, their eyes going wide and staring sightlessly at Ellis. “No. No no no no no no it’s okay, it’s okay, it’ll be okay, oh my god, delivering babies is a BLS skill, delivering babies is a BLS skill…” Suddenly, ridiculously, a perfect recall of Finn’s OBGYN chapter in medic education training flashed across their vision. A cross-section diagram of a uterus, the baby drawn almost comically placid as it slid out of a disembodied pelvis – squeezing a bowling ball out of a garden hose, their mother used to say. Finn felt a sudden lash of grief, thinking about their mother and the eternal question: is she still alive?

Then, just opposite of that diagram was an actual picture of a woman giving birth, a tiny head looking absolutely massive as it poked out from between the woman’s legs, steadied in the doctor’s hands like they were handling a football. Instructor Grant had told them to skip that chapter, since it wasn’t relevant to combat medicine… but the students had flipped to it just the same, with giggles and groans as their friends whispered ‘oh my god, there’s a naked woman on page 278’, only to discover that, yes, she was naked, but she was also pushing out a bloody, purple, wrinkled baby head, who looked very upset about the whole thing.

Oh, god. I should have read that chapter. I should have read that chapter and not just looked and gotten grossed out. Oh, god, oh god, oh god, oh god…

“Finn,” Ellis murmured, and gently took Finn’s hand. They laid it gently against their abdomen, right over where the baby was growing. Just a zygote, really. Probably no bigger than a few hundred cells right now, maybe the size of a grain of sand. Maybe? God, why don’t I know this?

As Finn’s hand settled against Ellis, gently pressing against the waistband of their sweatpants, Finn stopped. Every breath, every thought, every fucking cell of blood in their veins froze in place. They could feel the warmth of Ellis’s skin through the fabric, but more than that: it was as if that little bundle of cells, that baby, Finn’s baby, was shining through, reaching its little light out for Finn, shining warmth and strength and love right into their hand and into their body. The baby inside Ellis, their baby.

Finn crumpled to their knees and wrapped their arms around Ellis’s legs.

They sobbed against Ellis’s stomach, pressing kisses against the waistband of their pants. Finn’s face shone a smile, joy flooding through them, so hot and sharp it was almost painful. Ellis’s fingers stroked through Finn’s hair and Finn leaned their cheek against Ellis’s stomach, happy tears streaming down their cheeks and soaking into the hem of Ellis’s shirt.

Ellis tilted Finn’s head up, and Finn nearly crumpled again at the look of disbelief, of fierce joy, as Ellis looked down at them. It was as if years had been shaken off their face, as if, for a moment, the pain that laced through every moment of their life was lifted.

“We made a baby,” Finn rasped, their voice breaking.

“We made a baby,” Ellis whispered back. Then they laughed, and the sound went through Finn like a knife, and they loved the ache.

Finn glanced towards the kitchen. Vera stood motionless in the doorway. One arm wrapped around Tori’s waist, and her other hand covered her mouth. Her eyes streamed tears she looked at Ellis, then Finn, then Ellis again.

Tori’s eyes were focused, her shoulders squared, her hands laced under her chin. Her eyes shone as she looked at Ellis. Then, slowly, she stepped out of the protective circle of Vera’s embrace, and walked to Ellis’s side. Finn stumbled to their feet and swayed, dizzy.

Tori placed her hands on either side of Ellis’s face, her smile matching theirs. Their hands went gently around Tori’s wrists and they laughed together a moment. Tori didn’t shrink or cringe away, but laughed, quiet joy cutting through the fog of pain that shrouded her every day. Her eyes focused entirely on Ellis, and Ellis on her. The moment hung in the air, suspended, like a glass just before it shatters on the floor. Finn sucked in a breath, waiting for the crash.

It never came. Tori threw her arms around Ellis and held them as they wept.

They felt Vera at their side and they jumped. They turned to her, stunned. Vera practically tackled them in a hug.

“Congratulations,” she murmured, and she choked up on the word.

“Oh my god,” Finn whined softly, grinning, gasping for breath.

Vera pulled away, and Tori folded into Finn’s embrace. “I’m so happy for you,” she said softly, her voice warm, steady, and even. As she leaned back, Finn’s mouth bobbed open and closed, grinning like a fool.

Then Ellis was back in their arms, and they stayed. Ellis squeezed Finn tight, nearly crushing them in their embrace, as if they were an anchor against the roaring tide in their ears. Ellis was in their arms, living, breathing, here, alive, pregnant. For three weeks, Finn had been in agony, trapped with their family but alone. For three weeks, they’d been helpless, useless, branded as a medic while the rest were collared and tortured as playthings. It was as if Finn could feel the scar on their brain.

But Ellis… Ellis was here. Ellis was alive. Finn pulled back and stared at them dazedly, disbelieving. Their hands locked around Ellis’s shirt as they pulled them closer, pressing their foreheads together so hard it almost hurt. A tear fell from their chin and into their shirt.

Finn wet their lips. “I…” Ellis leaned back, that smile still so radiant, so beautiful. Finn blinked. “I hope it looks like you. I hope… oh… I hope it has your eyes.”

“I hope it has your brain,” Ellis said softly, and kissed them on the nose. “God knows we need another genius in this family.” Ellis laughed, and there was no snark, no anger.

Finn giggled, their voice shooting up an octave. “Oh,” they whimpered. They thumbed away the tears on Ellis’s cheeks. There was something rising in their throat, words that they could barely comprehend. Words they’d never once imagined in this order:

“I’m gonna be a dad,” they whispered.

Ellis’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Yeah, babe,” they said, and cradled Finn’s face. “You are. You’re gonna be a dad.”

Continued here

@untilthepainstarts, @womping-grounds, @free-2bmee, @quirkykayleetam, @walkingchemicalfire, @inpainandsuffering, @redwingedwhump, @burtlederp, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @whatwhumpcomments, @cursedscribbles, @whumpywhumper, @stxck-fxck, @omega-em-z-02, @whumps-the-word, @justwhumpitwhumpitgood, @justplainwhump, @moose-teeth, @slaintetowhump, @finder-of-rings, @inky-whump, @thatsthewhump, @orchidscript, @insanitywishes, @this-mightaswell-happen, @newandfiguringitout, @whumpkitty, @pretty-face-breaker, @cinnamonflavoredhugs, @inaridriscoll, @im-just-here-for-the-whump, @endless-whump, @grizzlie70, @oops-its-whump

[zktop10]

Zutara Week 2020 Top 10!

I had to exclude some stories because they weren’t only for Zutara Week. That also means I only included stories that were tagged Zutara Week 2020.

Mature content in the list, so NO MINORS S’IL VOUS PLAIT. idk if that’s spelled right.

Title: Peace & Love Author: catie_writes_things Rated: T Summary: To ensure a lasting peace for his nation and the world, Zuko is willing to do anything, even let the rulers of the other nations choose a bride for him. Unfortunately, a century of hostilities leaves the rest of the world with a certain degree of suspicion, and they decide to force the young Fire Lord into an alliance from which his nation can draw little material benefit - with the Southern Water Tribe. Katara agrees to this arrangement, reluctantly, for reasons of her own, while Zuko struggles with a secret that could ruin the whole thing. Score: 10 / 10 Tags: Post-Canon

Title: Waiting on a Steady Sun Author: nire Rated: M Summary: It’s been hard to think, since Katara showed up without notice yesterday evening with a storm in her eyes, a raised chin daring him to turn her away, and barely anything else.

(Seven years after Sozin's Comet, Zuko and Katara marry. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement and not nearly as romantic as the songs played at their wedding.) Score: 9.9 / 10 Tags: Marriage of Convenience, Pining, Post-War, Non Explicit Sex

Title: A Quiet Collision of Destinies Author: MarkedMage Rated: M Summary: Later she’ll touch her lips and realize that kissing Zuko is like watching a new constellation form; awe inspiring and breathtaking, igniting a fire within her belly and making the stars dance in her eyes.

Zutara week, day one: Reunion

Part 1 of The Moon and All Her Stars Score: 9.6 / 10 Tags: Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence, Smut, Non Explicit Sex

Title: you drew stars around my scars   Author: twilightstargazer Rated: G Summary: “I don’t know-- you never told me how you got this,” she says softly, her thumb rubbing at the edge where smooth skin gives way to scar tissue.

He seems shocked at that. “You mean you don’t know?” At the shake of her head, his mouth presses into a thin line. “It’s not exactly a great bedtime story.” - or, katara learns the story behind zuko's scar Score: 9.6 / 10 Tags: Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Referenced Child Abuse

Title: Tethered Author: lettersfromnowhere Rated: G Summary: Katara thinks about soulmates often. Her Gran-Gran told her the story, once: how soulmates are tethered (she likes that word, tethered – stronger than connected, softer than chained), how young some of them are when they hear the first evidence of that Tether. How soulmates hear each others’ thoughts sometimes, even before they know they’re soulmates, even before they meet. She loves the idea that a little part of her is in someone else’s mind even now.

Katara and Zuko through the years, sharing thoughts and finding each other. Score: 9.6 / 10 Tags: Alternate Universe, Soulmates

Title: i don’t wanna do this on my own Author: penspencils1719 Rated: T Summary: Katara thinks Aang could use a break. Zuko disagrees.

On an unrelated note, they are most definitely not flirting.

Zutara Week 2020, Day Two: Counterpart Score: 9.4 / 10 Tags: Momtara and Dadko, Awkward Flirting, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, Katara is a BAMF

Title: the most beautiful thing (that I have never seen) Author: lettersfromnowhere Rated: G Summary: This should be no sweat. After all, Katara's had the entire duration of Zuko's trip to the Earth Kingdom to work herself up to task of giving him news that'll rock his world.

That doesn't make said news any easier to get out, though. Score: 9.4 / 10 Tags: Fluff, Pregnancy

Title: All I Ask of You Author: Ally147 Rated: T Summary: “I get it to a point, Zuko,” she says sharply. “If you were any other person in the world, maybe I would sit back and let you deal with this in your own way. But you’re not just any other person. Not to the world, not to your nation, and definitely not to me.” Score: 9.3 / 10 Tags:

Title: Love Amongst the Turtleducks Author: kdinthecity Rated: T Summary: This could be alternately titled, "Zuko Needs a Pet." Score: 9.2 / 10 Tags:

Title: A Beautiful Disaster Author: JasmineTeaLatte Rated: M Summary: The morning after the party, Katara and Zuko are forced to confront the fallout of their actions as Aang tries to work through his feelings.

Written for Zutara Week 2020 - Day 5: Hesitancy

Part 3 of The Phoenix and the Dragon Score: 9.2 / 10 Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mild Smut, Implied Domestic Violence

[thesvenqueen]

Kristanna Week Day 3: YELLOW

Harry Potter AU

And it was all yellow...

Rating: K

Words: 822

No one was daft enough to bet against Gryffindor this year for the Quidditch Cup.

It had been clear since their very first game that they were the ones to beat. Really, everyone knew before the year had even begun.

Since Anna had joined the team, she had brought a new energy almost to the once average crew. They’d narrowly lost the year before, the snitch being caught by Slytherin rather quickly and ending the game 140-130.

Anna had beaten herself up over it for months, blaming herself for missing a few goals that could’ve saved their chances. Kristoff had done his best to bring her around, Sven helped too in encouraging her. 

That summer, though the usual Sunday quidditch match was still all good fun, Kristoff could sense the new fire in Anna. It was evident in how she moved in the air, in the concentration that was written on her face every match. 

She may have lost last year, but not this year.

Kristoff knew she wouldn’t let them fall again.

And she hadn’t.

Kristoff’s voice was still rough and raw from his cheers, his yells of excitement at the match. Anna had been on fire, making goals one right after the other, only missing one attempt the entire match.

Slytherin hadn’t stood a chance. Even with catching the snitch, they’d lost 275-170. 

Anna had been surrounded by her teammates, completely swarmed by them and her fellow Gryffindor’s as they celebrated their victory.

Kristoff had stayed in the stands, taking advantage of his higher seating in the stands to watch everything below. 

Sven was still cheering, chanting some song the Gryffindor’s had done all game. A few of his fellow Hufflepuffs were also chanting along, jumping up and down as they did.

But Kristoff paid them no mind, only having eyes for Anna as he watched the red head be lifted into the air with her fellow teammates, holding the cup high up in the air in celebration.

In that moment, Kristoff was overwhelmed with a sense of pride, admiration and something else that nearly knocked him into his seat.

Love.

He’d battled the feeling for months, nearly a year on what it was he felt for Anna. What the butterflies could mean, what all it meant. Not wanting to accept the fact that was right in front of him, clear as day and shining as brightly as the sun.

He loved her, with his whole heart he loved her.

There was no denying it anymore as he watched her laugh and smile with her friends below him.

They’re walking back to the castle now, both he and Sven the last few to make the trek as they had tried to hang back to see Anna after her victory. 

As the sunset though and curfew drew nearer, they both decided to venture back up to keep from getting into any trouble.

They’re just about to begin the descent down the stairs to the common room when Kristoff hears his name being called.

He turns to see a blur of red and yellow rush to him, a figure jumping into his arms and he stumbles back as he is able to catch Anna in his arms.

There is a brief moment of surprise, of shock that here Anna was, in his arms with her own wrapped tightly around him after completely throwing herself into him. Trusting him to catch her and really, he always would. The butterflies began again, he could feel a blush rising as he sensed Sven smirking beside him at the scene.

Kristoff ignored it, smiling as he held her tight against him. He was sure Sven would give him hell later but he could care less in this moment.

He was going to enjoy this while he could. 

So he held her, hugging her tightly as he heard the sweet sound of her excited giggles in his ears.

“Congratulations!” Kristoff said, excitement in his voice.

“I tried to find you sooner!” She says into his shoulder, “But I couldn’t get away and when I did, I couldn’t find you anywhere!”

“We tried to stay back but we figured you’d want to celebrate with your friends.”

“But I had to see you!” Anna says, leaning back just enough to look at him with the brightest smile, “You’re my best friend, Kristoff!”

He didn’t know why the word friend felt like a punch to his gut, but it did. Still though, friend or not, she was here. She was here and had made a point to find him.

That meant more than anything, really. He just prayed, hoped she didn’t see the blush rise to his cheeks as he realized how close they both were.

“You were amazing out there!” Kristoff said, matching her smile. 

“All thanks to you!” She says as Kristoff sets her down. He keeps his hands at her waist, not wanting to let go as he already misses the feeling of her in his arms. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He says, smiling down at her.

“I wouldn’t be near as good if not for you and your help.” She says, and Kristoff tries to ignore the redness in her cheeks. He will not assume she is blushing, not at him. 

Definitely not.

“I doubt that.” Sven pipes in, making the pair turn to look at him, “You’re an absolute natural. I don’t think a bludger ever came near you the whole match.”

“Well, only one person ever actually got close all year.”

Kristoff rolled his eyes, “You’re never going to let me live that down are you?”

“Oh no, never.” Anna teased, winking at him.

[charliesradiodemon]

Arranged Marriage (Part 4)

Part 1 Part 3

(Ping reminders for @ariloucii and @wargraymon0709 <3 if you need a tag reminder, please dm me!

Thank you all for your support and comments! I read every tag, reply and comment yall write and I cry every time <3)

Part 4

Even when Alastor and Charlie sat back down, the studio remained silent. It wasn't until Lucifer cleared his voice did everyone break out of their daze. The show continued on with flustered interview questions and void of any problems. Katie and Tom asked only three questions before their time was up so no juicy details were disclosed. Nothing else stopped the show after the announcement and they even managed to announce the date of the wedding: two weeks from that day. It was going to be a massive spectacle as this sort of thing never occurs in Hell. No one had to guess that every important being in Hell would attend.  

As soon as they exited the studio, they were bombarded with paparazzi, demanding answers to their mundane questions. With Charlie on his arm, Alastor led the way past the rowdy crowd. He felt Charlie’s grip tighten, so he walked quickly to get away from the noise. Alastor amusingly noted how they were smart enough to at least realize that pressing them too hard would be a death wish. The crowd cleared the way, knowing not to cross Lucifer, his daughter or his newly appointed son-in-law. They kept their respectful distance as they yelled their questions at the group. Charlie let out a breath of relief as soon as they reached their getaway vehicle and loosened her grip on Alastor to get into the limousine first. Next was Alastor and lastly Lucifer. 

Despite the large vehicle and plenty of sitting space, Alastor sat himself right next to Charlie while her father sat across from them. Once the limo was in motion, the devil himself smiled wide and let out a hearty laugh.  

For the first time in a long time, Lucifer shot a wide toothy grin toward his daughter. “What a fantastic show! You two really sold the engagement! And that horrid Killjoy oh- the look on her face,” His smile was genuine and Charlie finally felt a little more than a failure for once. It was just too bad that he wasn’t proud of her because of anything she’d accomplished herself. The fact left a painful twinge in her heart.

The whole car ride back to the hotel was full of Lucifer’s compliments and praises toward the pair. He sang his praises for so long, neither Alastor nor Charlie could speak. She wouldn’t know what to say anyway. She just gladly took what approval from her father came her way, but still the praises felt empty. She kept on a polite smile to keep her father happy, but she couldn’t help but stare out the red tinted window of the limousine and blank out for the rest of the ride. 

Alastor and Charlie were dropped off at the hotel, where paparazzi had already formed a mob outside the hotel’s doors. As soon as Alastor helped Charlie out of the limousine, the crowd came closer, but not too close. Alastor thought it was a shame that no one tried anything. He would have enjoyed seeing some unfortunate reporters fly. Instead the group herded themselves to only nearly encapsulate them. With a challenging grin toward the crowd, Alastor grabbed Charlie by the hand to lead her through the flashes of cameras and obnoxiously loud reporters. It was a short distance to the door and those in the way made sure to move as quickly as possible. 

They strolled through without a hitch and only minor blinding from the lights. There were bangs on the door, but they were left ignored. 

Finally, Charlie spoke up. “So that’s what you meant by beneficial,” Charlie huffed an empty chuckle.

Alastor’s hearty chuckle sounded through the hallway. “Yes! My dear you really sold that performance like a professional! Boy your father is quite the schemer, announcing the engagement in front of so many fearful eyes! Hahaha! I bet you’ve already built quite the reputation for yourself! Oh I bet my stars you’re-“

However once he heard the sound of sniffling, he immediately used his shadow to teleport in front of her. He loomed over her as she hid her face in her hands. She was crying again. And the awful tickle crept back into his chest. “I don’t understand, what’s wrong this time?” His brow scrunched in confused curiosity as he attempted to assess the situation. His grin did not falter, but looked out of place with the upper half of his face. 

Charlie sniffled and breathed a chuckle without looking at him. “Sorry this is the second time I’ve cried today it’s just been… a lot. First Vaggie and now my dad was finally proud of me. But… it doesn’t feel right. It’s… complicated.” 

Something in Alastor’s gut hurt at the sight of Charlie looking so hopeless. He wasn’t sure exactly what he should do to help, but he wanted to try. He reached out and placed a gloved hand on top of her head as it proved to somehow calm her down a little. “Please, explain away my dear.” 

So she told him. Everything from her complicated family issues to how she felt about today was out there in the open and Alastor sat with her and listened to her patiently and quietly. It shocked and flattered him that the princess trusted him enough to pour his heart out. Alastor felt as though her words were falling on deaf ears though. 

This type of pain was unfamiliar to him. He knew about physical physical and psychological pain, but emotional was not his forte. Hearing about it from her was interesting, but it also sparked new sensations he didn’t fully recognize. His chest was tight and he felt some other form of agitation within. Rage was familiar to him, but this- it was nothing he was familiar with. Sadness? Whatever empathy is? Alastor couldn’t tell, nor did he know how to act on the feeling. For the first time he felt useless and he didn’t know what to do with that. 

Charlie eventually passed out on the couch they shared. She lasted a lot longer than Alastor expected. She seemed exhausted the moment they walked back into the hotel so it was a surprise that she still had the energy to cry her heart out again. There were too many tears and not enough smiles from his partner. He didn’t like it and the feeling in his chest only seemed to confirm this fact. But again, he felt useless. He didn’t know how to comfort others. The only things he knew were causing anguish and smiling. The only things he ever craved were the despair of others and the entertainment that came with it. 

Alastor leaned over her curled up form and thought about how vulnerable she was. She was completely unaware and a painfully easy target. He could end her here and now without even trying. But no, that thought didn’t sit right with him. It was odd how she didn’t awake his bloodlust and it amazed him how he could show so much restraint toward an oddly meek individual such as herself. 

He stood and gently picked her up, careful not to rouse her. To Alastor’s surprise, she felt light and fragile like a dove in his arms. For as tall as she was, she was much lighter than she looked. 

As she settled in his arms, she snuggled into his chest. This alone sent shivers up Alastor’s spine, but it also left an unfamiliar warmth in his core. The feeling was unpleasant yet… not either. It was a strange feeling, but he couldn’t say that he hated it. A part of him even wanted to somehow hold her closer. He wanted to feel more warmth that erupted whenever she was around. Charlie Magne was a bundle of surprises that never ceased to amaze him even after six months. He would have thought the open and naive princess would have bored him quickly after starting this partnership. Yet here he was, always excited to see what she did next. 

He walked her over to her bed and laid her down gently. When he snapped his fingers her dress changed into a simple nightgown with the other dress neatly settled in his hands. He set it down on the chair next to her bed and turned back to face the sleeping demoness. No, she didn’t look anything like a demon. She looked more akin to an angel than any grotesque demon here in Hell. From her optimistic personality to her long golden hair, she looked and acted as what Alastor would imagine an angel to be like. 

His gaze trailed up to said hair and found it still up in a complex braided hairdo. The demon’s clawed hand hovered over her head for a moment as he pondered on a sudden thought that popped in her head. He quickly drew back as he dismissed the thought. What was he doing? He needed to leave, he’d overstayed his welcome.

But then he looked back down at her. ‘Just do it. She’ll be uncomfortable if you don’t.’ He reasoned- though it felt more like an excuse. It took him a moment of hesitation but he ultimately decided to reach over and undo her hair to set it free from its braided updo. The softness he felt through his gloves as he ran his fingers through her golden locks gave him a sense of contentedness. It was amazing how her hair ran freely and easily through his fingers. It was easily the softest thing he’d felt since his mortal life. 

When Charlie shifted under his touch, he quickly withdrew his hand and paused. How long had he been at it? When she didn’t stir he gently pulled the covers over her body. He looked back up and found a content expression that graced her puffy yet peaceful face. 

There was a skip in Alastor’s heart, which he clutched at as soon as he felt it. Under his hand, his heartbeat had returned to normal, but the feeling of the skip lingered. This particular sensation triggered by her wasn’t new. He’d felt it on several other occasions over the half year he had known her, but it only ever happened with her around. It was curious, but he’d always ignore it. But now that they were spending much more time together though, it may prove impossible to ignore. Truthfully he was excited to learn what this feeling was. Maybe later on he could ask Charlie about it.

Alastor chuckled quietly and glanced back down at his fiancee’s sleeping face in curiosity. “I don’t know what you’ve done to me dear, but I cannot deny you’ve certainly caught my interest,” He whispered to her. He gazed down at her and watched her breathe for a moment before bending down slightly. “I wonder...” With care, Alastor gently shifted the hair that threatened to obscure Charlie’s sleeping face from view. “What did you do to incite this feeling? What have you awoken?” He paused as if he waited for her to respond. But in reality he just dozed off for a moment, lost in her sleeping face. Without receiving his answer, he straightened his back and took one last look at his fiancee before leaving for the night.  

Alastor began his own trek home and reflected on the day’s events. His grin clearly reflected his eagerness for more, to know more about the things he felt and why they only happened around the strange princess of Hell. He was eager, but he knew he needed to pace himself, to savor this conundrum. But one thing was clear: Charlie Magne was a mystery that he could not wait to fully unravel.

PART 5 HERE

[timelordthirteen]

In All Things 21/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit (eventually)

Summary: A Rumbelle arranged marriage AU.

Chapter Summary: A confrontation between friends, and a fireside chat.

Notes: For my August Writer's Month prompt #3: I couldn't sleep. I hope this makes up for the way the previous chapter ended. Here there be the start of FEELINGS.

[AO3]

“You’re grumpy.”

Gold glared at Jefferson over the edge of his book. “I am not.”

Jefferson let out a soft snort and shook his head as he moved into the room. Gold was sitting in one of the high back chairs in front of the fireplace, his right foot propped up on a short footstool.

“You are,” Jefferson said. “And you’ve no right to be.”

Gold lowered his book to his lap and openly scowled. “You are fortunate that you are not just my steward but also my only friend.”

Jefferson laughed and took the chair opposite Gold, arranging himself rather haphazardly, with one leg slung over the arm as he lounged across it. His action drew another look from Gold, as he’d designed it to do. He had decided that Cameron Gold needed to be needled a little given his petulant behavior yesterday.

“I’m not your only friend,” he said. “You have Belle too.”

Gold sighed. “I suppose.”

After he saw Belle and Jefferson together, he’d gone off to find Astrid, intent on finding out what had shocked her so that she’d hurried off without even looking where she was going. He found her in the kitchens a few minutes later, and she admitted everything to him. He had to admit he’d been surprised as well, and immediately stormed off to his room to think on the matter.

Belle had kissed Jefferson.

Of course to Astrid this was an event imbued with some great importance and intent, but once he’d had a chance to question the maid again, she gave him further information which dispelled all that. It had been a simple kiss on the cheek, one friend to another, and he was certain it was meant as nothing more than a moment of care and understanding. Yet it had bothered him nonetheless, and he had ruminated over it for the last day or so, eschewing last night’s supper and this morning’s breakfast with the rest of the household in favor of eating alone in his study. He knew he couldn’t avoid Belle forever, nor did he want to, but his immediate reaction to the incident unsettled him.

Belle and Jefferson becoming friends was hardly astonishing. They were both kind, outgoing people with mutual interests and dispositions. It was only natural they should gravitate towards each other. Yet Gold had felt the oddest pang at the thought of there being more between them. The notion that his wife, though their marriage was strictly a legal and financial arrangement, not anything romantic or familial, would favor another over him, that she might care for another, had left him disconcerted.

He thought that he and Belle had bonded while in Avonlea, and started to build a kind of partnership in the running of the estate in addition to their burgeoning friendship. While that was still a possibility, it seemed she was already far closer with Jefferson than he had understood, enough that she had confided in him regarding her relationship with Gaston. Perhaps it was that fact that disturbed him? A confession of something held so close that even her own father didn’t know the whole of it, belied an intimacy and trust that Gold only now realized he envied.

Jefferson huffed and sat up, putting his feet on the floor and facing Gold. “You’re an idiot.”

Gold was shaking from his thoughts and frowned. “Am I?” The other man’s look conveyed everything, and he closed the book and set it aside. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

“It’s not her fault.”

“I - I never said it was, did I?” he asked, slipping his foot from the small ottoman and leaning forward. “And what are you talking about anyway?”

Jefferson shook his head. Things had clearly not improved with his mood since last night when they had discussed the particulars of what transpired between Belle and Gaston. “Belle," he replied. "Telling me about Gaston is not her fault, and it’s not some slight on you.”

“I never said it was!” Gold pulled a face and pushed to his feet, pacing across the rug. “She can tell whomever she likes whatever she likes. It is of no consequence to me.”

“Right.” Jefferson waited for Gold to reach the end of his short walk and turn around before fixing him with a look. “It’s clearly not bothering you at all, that’s why you’ve acted like a child and flounced off to your room for a whole day.”

“I did not flounce,” he snapped, clearly affronted.

Jefferson hummed and rolled his eyes to the side. “All I did was ask her, you know. Just asked her what happened. She wanted to talk about it.”

Gold looked away, his response muttered under his breath, but still loud enough for his friend to hear. “To you perhaps.”

“To you as well!” Jefferson stood and crossed the space, forcing Gold to look at him. “But you don’t ask. You never do.”

“Yes, well,” he said softly. “Not everyone is an open book like you.”

“Neither is Belle.” Jefferson reached for Gold, and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “She lost her mother, nearly lost her home, and then this - this incident with Gaston... “

Gold turned, shrugging off Jefferson’s touch, and faced him. “What would you have me do? She said she trusted me, and then she tells you instead.”

He huffed and walked over to the window, sighing at the cool draft against his skin.

“You’re jealous.”

He scowled over his shoulder. “Hardly.”

Jefferson flashed his teeth. “Oh, you are, my friend. You like her.”

“Jefferson...” he warned.

He felt a hand on his shoulder again as Jefferson leaned in close.

“She might like you too if you just tried a little harder.”

Gold scoffed and folded his arms, gazing out the window at the winter landscape that his gardens had become. When he exhaled, his breath created a circle of fog on the glass, that faded a moment later. “We both know I’m a difficult man to love.”

“Only because you make yourself so.” Gold huffed again, and Jefferson’s head cocked to the side. Then he suddenly leaned in and planted a firm, wet kiss on Gold’s cheek.

Gold exclaimed and raised his arm, pushing his friend back to peels of laughter, and then wiped his face roughly with his palm. He shot a glare at Jefferson and then shook his head. “Get out.”

Jefferson grinned, still chuckling to himself. “Only if you promise to talk to Belle.”

“Yes, yes,” he replied, waving the other man off.

He doubted very much that Belle could ever care for him in that way, even if he determined his own feelings were heading in that direction. But that was something he could not allow; it would only complicate matters and possibly derail some of his plans altogether. He wanted a friendship with Belle, nothing more, though he’d been prepared at the outset for her to reject any interaction with him beyond what was necessary for Baeden. Emotional entanglement had been an outside risk in marrying again, one he’d chosen to ignore because of the unlikeliness of such a situation ever occurring.

Then he’d heard about the state Avonlea was in, and about Lady Belle’s abruptly broken engagement. He knew there had to be some kind of secret there, another risk he’d been willing to take for the sake of his son. Tomorrow, he would go down to breakfast and invite Belle to review Avonlea’s ledgers with him again, to get a sense of what she thought might be best. If she agreed, he would use the opportunity to broach the subject of Gaston with her, and perhaps it would set his mind to rights.

The door closed softly as Jefferson left the study, but Gold didn’t move from his spot by the window for some time.

Belle leaned her forehead against the cold glass, the frost at the corners prickling her skin, and sighed.

It was the first heavy snow of winter, with a wind that blew the fat, wet flakes at a sharp angle, illuminated by the light from the oil lamps that lined the edge of the walkways out into the garden, and sparkling. In the morning, one side of the trees would be frozen, coated in ice and bent in the direction of the storm, their branches dipping almost to the ground by the weight of the snow.

Tomorrow was the Solstice, the longest, darkest day of the year. In the evening, the cities, towns, and villages all over the kingdom, and beyond, would celebrate with festivals beginning at sundown. She had loved the grand galas that her mother would throw at Avonlea, the smell of pine and spice wafting through the manor in the days leading up to the feast. Every noble from the surrounding area was invited, and there would be hours of dancing and drinking and eating. Many times she went to bed before it was even half over, the faint sounds of strings and laughter drifting into her dreams.

She wondered what it would be like here at Thornhill. There were few other nobility this far north, and only two small villages. Much of the land Gold owned was for farming and raising sheep rather than renting to wealthy merchants. She supposed it was one reason why it thrived even in the lean times, whereas other estates like Avonlea, that rented parcels to wealthy families to build their own, smaller estates, and only as much for farming as was needed, struggled to get by.

The celebration tomorrow, if there was one, would likely be a much smaller affair than she was used to, but she thought that this year it would suit her to keep things more subdued. The strife of the last few months had worn on her, and she didn’t feel very celebratory. Perhaps there could be some dancing though, if she could persuade Jefferson to play something. The thought made her smile.

Jefferson had become a dear friend to her in a short time. Telling him some of what happened with Gaston had made her feel immeasurably better, though what happened after seemed to leave them both uncomfortable. Astrid meant well, Belle was sure, but the woman could be so excitable, and often confused things when she was in that state. Whatever the maid had said to Gold upset him enough that he avoided both Jefferson and her for the rest of the evening. He even took breakfast in his room, which in turn upset Bae.

It had been a long day, but after nearly an hour of trying and failing to fall asleep, she’d climbed out of bed and brought her book to the window seat in her library. Nestled there with a thick afghan and wool socks, she couldn’t get cozy enough to rest, and besides that her mind seemed intent on being unsettled. It would probably remain so until she could sort out things with Gold.

She trusted him enough to tell him more of what occurred with Gaston, more than she’d told Jefferson, but she was uncertain of how he might take it. Jefferson believed that Gaston had tried to hurt her, and felt her actions were more than justified, but she knew not everyone would agree. She didn’t know which side Gold would choose, and worried that his more exacting nature might override his good will towards her.

Frustrated and chilled, Belle closed her book, and climbed down from the seat. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and let it trail behind her like a long cloak as she made her way downstairs to the main library room, hoping to find a warmer, cozier place to read until she felt tired enough to sleep.

The library doors were closed for the evening, but she eased one of the open and slipped quietly inside. Turning around, she stopped and held the afghan closer, pressing her book against her chest. Gold was sitting by the fire in one of the large leather chairs, a book folded open on his knee as he stared into the fire.

She shuffled forward, but when he didn’t move or acknowledge her presence she let out a small cough. He startled at that and twisted in the chair. The fire and two candelabras were the only light in the room, but she could see his eyes were dark and wide with surprise.

“Belle,” he said softly.

A shiver went down her spine, and she held the blanket tight to her body.

“What are you doing up at this hour?” he managed, trying not to consider the fact that she was in her nightgown and stockings, covered in nothing but a knit blanket.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “You?”

He shrugged. “The same, but that’s nothing new.” Then he gestured to the other chair, and she spied a small glass in his hand, a dark liquid swirling about and catching the shine of the fire. “Would you care to join me for a late night drink, and a stare into the fire until we uncover the secrets of life?”

His tone was playful and soft, and she laughed lightly. “Yes, thank you.”

She set her book on the small table between them, and eased herself into the seat, adjusting the afghan so it was folded over her lap and wrapped around to keep her arms covered. To do so she had to expose the front part of her nightgown where it laced up over her chest, but she was near enough to the fire that she didn’t feel a chill.

Gold rose and crossed to a small cart set to one side of the fireplace and poured her a glass of brandy from a crystal decanter. She watched as he moved, taking in his unusual appearance. He was wearing one of his ivory shirts, but without a waistcoat or ascot, and wearing a comfortable pair of slippers instead of his usual high laced boots. She had never seen him in so few layers of clothing. It made the moment feel more intimate than it should.

When he turned around, drink in hand, she noticed that not only had he gone without his usual neckwear, but he’d also undone the top of his shirt, letting the laces hang down the front. It was only just untied, and there was little beyond a sliver of skin showing, but she caught herself staring all the same.

Gold met her gaze as he bent to hand her the glass. His eyes looked so warm, the glow of the fire reflecting in them, and she held back another shiver as she took the drink from him. He moved to sit, and she hastily took a sip of the brandy, humming as the heat trailed down her throat.

“Good?” he asked quietly.

She nodded and lowered the glass to her lap. “Perfect.”

He flashed her a small smile, and sat back against the chair, sipping from his own drink. A few minutes ago, he’d nearly gathered himself up and forced himself to go to bed, but now he was content to stay as long as Belle in the hopes that he might have a chance to gage her thoughts on yesterday’s misunderstanding.

She was wearing a pale blue nightgown with long sleeves that laced up the front. It was a struggle to keep his eyes from taking her in, but he focused them on the dancing flames in the hearth. He had seen her in a similar state barely a week and two days ago in Avonlea, after he’d hauled her in from the snow. When he returned to her room she was fresh out of her bath, her skin pink from the heat of the water, which looked far better on her than the sickly pale from being wet through and nearly frozen.

It was the first time he’d allowed himself to acknowledge her beauty, though he’d been struck by it the moment he first saw her, standing under the arbor in the garden before she came down the aisle to marry him. Such a moment it had been. He felt as though he’d gaped at her the whole way, and considered it a miracle that he managed not to blunder any of his lines. But seeing her like this, in the late hours of the evening, padding around his house in her warmest stockings, with an afghan he’d knitted himself so many years ago - it pulled at something in him. He tried to push the feeling down, but it wouldn’t relent, warming him from the inside better than the brandy.

“So,” Belle said after a time. “Have you discerned anything yet?”

Gold’s lips curved slightly as he lifted his glass. “Nothing. You?”

She sighed. “The same, I’m afraid. Perhaps the universe does not wish to reveal its wonders to us just yet.”

He let out a sound of agreement and swallowed the drink in his mouth.

“I want you to know,” she said, “that what happened with Jefferson was not what it seemed.”

He frowned. “I didn’t think it seemed like anything.”

She looked at him sideways, and sipped carefully at her drink. “You haven’t been avoiding me because of it?”

“No,” he replied. It wasn’t a lie. He’d been avoiding her because of himself, though how to say that properly was lost on him. “It - it wasn’t anything you did. You have every right to whatever affection you may have for Jefferson.”

“It’s not like that,” she said. “He’s a good friend, that is all.”

Gold waved a hand and set his glass on the table. “No matter. You should feel free to do as you wish. It isn’t as if I have any sort of claim on you.”

Belle’s mouth opened and then closed as she idly turned the drink in her hand. What he said wasn’t entirely true. She did have an affection for Jefferson, but it was as nothing more than a good friend. She was sure it was the same for Jefferson as well, but she had come to realize that there was now a place in her heart for Bae as well as Gold.

“Did Jefferson tell you -?”

“What you told him?” he asked, shifting in his chair to look at her more directly. “Yes, he did.”

She nodded and looked down at the last little puddle of brandy in her glass. Jefferson had sworn himself to the strictest secrecy, but she assured him that there was no need for that with Gold. She wanted him to know as well. “Good.”

“I’ll remember never to anger you,” he added, smiling. “Wouldn’t want to be on the wrong end of things.”

When she looked over at him, he winked at her, and she let out a soft, snorting laugh. The brandy had loosened her tongue and his, and they shared a grin and a chuckle at Gaston’s expense. She felt lighter again, the same as after she had confessed to Jefferson, and now she knew that Cameron did not hold anything against her.

She tossed back the last of her drink and set the glass aside, surprised and how her mind had suddenly shifted from thinking of him as Gold to thinking of him more familiarly. It was as if the distance he had put between them had meant a loss of the friendly intimacy they had established. Now that things seemed resolved, she had shifted easily to reclaim it and in doing also found her comfort again. Her body felt more relaxed and warm, and she felt that perhaps now she might be able to sleep, but there was something about this moment that she was loathe to end.

“I’m sure you won’t be,” she said finally.

He scoffed quietly and leaned his head back. “Oh, I wouldn't count on it. I can be - difficult.”

“You don’t say,” she replied flatly.

Immediately Gold twisted in his seat to stare at her open mouthed and wide eyed. She pressed her lips together even as her mouth started to curve, and after a few seconds, they both laughed.

Belle knew she was definitely tired enough to rest, and slowly pushed to her feet. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

He looked up at her, and once again she caught the flash of the fire in his dark eyes, and felt an odd tightness in her throat. “For - for the drink,” she answered, reaching for his hand where it rested on the arm of the chair. “And - and for other things.”

She wrapped her hand over his and held it at her side, his knuckles brushing against the soft yarn of the blanket where it hung loose around her legs. He gave her a light squeeze and brushed his thumb over the bump on the outside of her wrist.

“Are you -” He started and then stopped, clearing his throat roughly and swallowing against the lump that had formed there. “Are you happy here, Belle?”

He met her eyes, and for a brief second, he thought he might have almost unlocked one of the secrets they had joked about before, as though the universe might lay itself bare in her gaze if only he was brave enough to look at it. Shaking his head, he looked away and made to pull his hand back, but she gripped it harder, tugging to make him look at her again.

“I’m not - unhappy,” she said, smiling. “And you?”

“The same.” Then he shook his head again and pulled her hand to him, pressing a kiss to the back of it as had become his habit. “Good night, Belle.”

On a whim, she bent down, catching herself with her free hand on the arm of his chair and kissed his cheek. Her body angled over his, nightgown brushing his clothes, and her lips touched just to the right of his mouth, lingering a moment before she straightened. “Good night, Cameron.”

It was another hour before Gold went to bed.

[notchesandbullets]

Saving Her (Ojiro Mashirao x Wolf!Reader)

Part 2 : Aizawa’s reluctant dad side kicks in when he sees you’re clearly distressed, fast friends with Midoriya, fluff with the girls of 1-A, Todoroki and Sato.

Word Count: 5.7k 

Bowing your head in defeat thinking that there was nothing you could do to possibly change his mind, you started to shuffle towards him when you were stopped.

"Ojiro-san..." You whispered.

He refused to move his tail. He refused to let you go.

"Aizawa-sensei, please," He was desperate, worried out of his mind at what would happen if you were left alone.

If he wasn't there to protect you.

He gritted his teeth, holding back as best as he could. "Don't do this."

"Do you want her to be safe or do you want her to be with you?" Aizawa's eyes were serious. "Because those are two different things."

The boy fell silent beside you.

"Here, she's exposed. Her whereabouts have been leaked to your classmates and while I don't blame you for the incident that occurred, you have taken responsibility for her." The older man continued despite your head ducking down in shame. "This is what's best, not only for her, but for the rest of you."

He directed that last part over your shoulder and you glanced over to see all the boys from earlier as well as a couple more unfamiliar faces that obviously had been roused from their sleep due to all the noise.

Aizawa sighed, really not wanting to argue or go up against one of his most dedicated students this late at night. "You have to remember this dormitory was built to ease your parents' worries. They entrusted your safety to us and we are responsible for you."

The air suddenly got a lot more difficult to breath.

"I told you that you would have to earn my trust back." He said, rough but even voice cutting through the silence like a knife, alluding at something you didn't understand.

You didn't want this. You didn't want to make things hard on everyone or cause a fuss.

"I'll go."

Ojiro's expression of surprise gave way to pain. "Y/N..."

"They'll be safer if I leave, right?" You met Aizawa's blank stare bravely despite your knees knocking together. "I want to protect them, too."

Protests rose from the other students at your determination, the majority of them pleading for you to stay, much to your surprise. But their teacher wouldn't budge and slowly, they had no choice but to give up. As much as they wanted to get to know you better, it seemed like that would have to wait.

You looked up at Ojiro, sad to have to leave but knew it was the best thing to do for now. As you moved to take off and return his hoodie to him, he halted your movements.

"Keep it." He urged, a slight blush present on his cheeks. "I don't want you to get sick."

With a small smile, you thanked him quietly, promising to give it back when you were able to see him next. He returned your smile at the prospect of there being a next time before unwinding his tail from around you.

You followed Aizawa to where he was staying so that he could make a phone call from his office. You took a second to peer around the cluttered room curiously but dared not explore. Unlike Ojiro, he didn't seem like he would take kindly to you poking around his things.

Suppressing your instinctive curiosity, you gulped when he hung up the phone, approaching you with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"For now, you can't stay on the school grounds until we figure out some kind of legal guardianship." He relayed, being rather straightforward and clear cut with you. "I'll walk you to an inn for tonight."

"Ah..." You trailed off as he fixed his gaze on you, shuffling your feet awkwardly. "T-Thank you Aizawa-shi, but I-I can... take care of myself. I don't want anyone to get in any trouble and I know it will reflect badly on UA if you are caught harboring me, so..."

Letting out a heavy sigh, he walked past you as you rambled, opening the door. "Just hurry up."

You walked quickly, not wanting to fall behind as he strode on ahead of you, paying your entire speech no mind. You didn't know whether or not to be thankful or offended but greatly leaned towards the former. It was true that you had enough survival skills to look after yourself but life was much harder when there wasn't anyone in it.

It took about an half an hour by taxi but the night was nice and Aizawa instructed you to hide your ears and tail as well as not talk to anyone else.

You followed him to a quaint inn at the outskirts of UA's property, checking in at the deserted lobby, Aizawa paying for your room for the night. Unable to help it, you started to wander, curiosity taking over.

The walls were decorated with vintage wallpaper, curling slightly at the edges when one panel would fade into another. But while the air inside felt musty and the carpet was stained with faint shades of tea and coffee, the fresh flowers at the center of the lobby brought a smile to your face.

Once you were out of earshot but still within his field of vision, Aizawa turned to the owner.

"Make sure she gets whatever she asks for." He told him gruffly, handing him a bunch of yen to compensate for the trouble. "Food, blankets, whatever she needs."

"Y-Yes, of course, sir." The owner babbled, stunned by the sheer amount of money he had just handed to him.

You spun around, yelping frightfully when you face-planted into Aizawa's chest. He steadied you, sending you a glare that one could only decipher as a warning. Backing away quickly, you apologized profusely until he cut you off, telling you not to make so much noise.

It was late and he had a headache.

Chastised, you followed him up the creaky stairs, coming to a door with green paint peeling off of it.

Aizawa arched an eyebrow, then internally shrugged, using the key to open it. Inside, there wasn't much. A twin sized bed was crammed next to a lumpy couch he was assuming had a pull out cot, a table and a single chair in the corner along with a small bathroom.

He sighed again, wishing that he brought his sleeping bag. That would've been more comfortable than this.

Flicking on the light, he drew the curtains closed. Sparing a glance over his shoulder to make sure you were still alive since you hadn't talked since he entered, his eyes narrowed when he found you with your back pressed against the door, eyes widened in alarm.

Your knuckles were white from where you were clutching the doorknob, nearly breaking it in the process and the sound of it rattling is what drove him to finally break the silence.

Recognizing the patterns of your behavior, he turned around to face you, keeping his shoulders relaxed and maintaining eye contact with you. Trying to appear as non-threatening as he could possibly get, he forced his jaw to unclench.

You let out a shaky breath you didn't know you had been holding in when his expression softened. If you didn't know any better, it almost seemed like he was being kind.

"I don't know what you've been through but I'm not going to do anything to you, kid." Aizawa murmured and you were taken aback by how the edge to his voice disappeared when he was talking with you. "I also know that might be hard to believe coming from a stranger, but it's late and you need to sleep."

He had a feeling you would react like this and while initially he had planned on leaving and going back to the dormitory to get some shut eye before the sun came up, something compelled him to stay.

He wasn't sure it was because of your reaction but regardless, he wasn't leaving now.

This area wasn't well protected and if anyone saw you coming in and him leaving, they wouldn't hesitate to take you. He didn't know how well informed the Quirk Traffickers were but he wasn't going to take any chances.

Waving his hand towards the bed lined with fluffy pillows, you hesitated before timidly laying down as he suggested. Now, you realized what he was doing. With you here and him there, he had maximized the space between the two of you and didn't block your access to the door in case you needed to flee.

Your ears flicked nervously as you got under the covers, trusting him a little bit more. "What about you?"

He exhaled, eyes closing, swollen bags already present under them. "I won't move from here. I'd leave you alone, kid, but I'm not sure that's a good idea since those guys that are after you are pretty persistent."

Your eyebrows knitted together, contemplating if it was a good idea to ask him.

He had just started dozing off when your shy voice asked, "You're a hero, right?"

Humming nonchalantly, he hoped you would drop it there but you didn't.

"Is..." You played with your fingers, tail flicking back and forth. "Is there any way I can become one?"

That piqued his curiosity.

You stiffened when he cracked an eye open, piercing your soul.

"Why don't we talk about it more in the morning, kid?" He finally said.

Unable to conceal your eagerness, you beamed at him and he crossed his arms over his chest, which was rumbling with laughter. You shifted, getting comfortable and promptly fell asleep. For the first time in a while, you didn't stir once during the night.

He stared at you for a little while longer, gaze growing fond. For a kid to have gone through as much as you have, you sure appeared pure and untainted. Your energy was infectious.

A nightmare for the constantly exhausted underground hero.

Hmm... maybe this kid won't be so bad after all.

The next morning, you were awoken by the light of the sun for the first time in years only to be shocked when a steaming hot plate of sausages and fried rice with eggs were placed by your bedside.

"Aizawa-shi?" You yawned, rubbing your eyes sleepily.

"You don't have to be so formal, kid." He told you. "Aizawa-sensei is fine."

During the night, he had moved from the corner to keep an eye on the door. Sometime around 3 am, he had finally fallen asleep and when he woke up, there was an annoying crick in his neck.

Your nose scrunched up as you sat up, accepting the plate of food he offered you. "But you're not my sensei."

He shot you a look at your cheeky reply and instantly, you shut your mouth, stuffing your mouth only to cry out when you burned your tongue. He scolded you immediately and rushed to get you a glass of cold water.

You smiled sheepishly as he made you drink some before instructing you to blow on your hot food before shoveling it in your mouth like that. This time when you resumed your breakfast, the silence wasn't harsh or stifling like last night. It was lighter.

"I would be if you attended UA."

You dropped your chopsticks. "Huh?"

After more thought and a lot more details from him, you learned that when he had contacted Principal Nezu late last night for the third time. He had asked if it would be possible to enroll you in the general studies course until they could figure out a safe place for you.

Going to school would put you on a lot of lists due to the information the school had to provide for the government and it wasn't his initial plan since you wouldn't be able to hide in the blink of an eye with no paper trail, but he couldn't think of anything else after that fiasco that Ojiro had informed him of last night.

Plus, with you enrolled in their school with literally pro-heroes everywhere, you would be well protected simply within UA's walls. And if you ever went missing, he could already think of twenty students who would come to your aid.

You were silent at first, mulling it over. Your fluffy ears twitched every so often as you ruled out other possibilities until a wide smile spread from ear to ear.

You bowed at him, popping back up with your eyes shining, heart touched that these people you barely knew were going so far for someone like you.

"I would be honored, Aizawa-sensei."

You spent most of the weekend alone since he had other responsibilities that required his attention but he always came by at lunch to check on you and then again at night to keep watch while you slept. You argued that he didn't need to do all of that but strangely enough, he insisted and you conceded, unsure of how much you could push the issue since he was your senior.

Before you knew it, the weekend and Class 1-A's break was over. It had been four days since you ran into Ojiro and you couldn't lie. You missed him.

Badly.

Aiawa had classes to teach and you were looking forward to seeing Ojiro and Yaoyorozu and the other girls again.

For the past few days, he hadn't let you leave the motel room.

The innkeeper, who you learned his name was Jin, often came to keep you company when you requested some food. You felt bad for making him do so much work but he never seemed to mind it. In fact, he rather seemed happy to have someone to talk to.

You were supposed to leave at the same time as Aizawa the day classes resumed but were so taken with the invention of the bathtub on the way out that he had to leave before you. Heaven forbid he got fired because he was late in helping you figure out how a shower worked.

Which is why you were confused when he kept finding excuses to stay longer until he admitted to being uneasy leaving you to walk to UA alone. You teased him and he rolled his eyes. But in all seriousness, who was going to try their luck in broad daylight?

No one was going to snatch you in front of a bunch of people.

He had nothing to worry about.

After a very long and thorough lecture of safety he hammered into your head to keep the door locked at all times and to stay away from the windows, only to follow it up with all the emergency protocols you were to follow if you were being followed or attacked.

To be honest, you nodded your head through it to show that you were listening just to appease him.

He finally left an hour later and you were free to do what you wished without him quietly worrying away in the corner that you were going to hurt yourself.

It was becoming a known thing that despite your keen wolf senses, you were very clumsy.

Aizawa found it oddly amusing and horrifying at the same time.

Deciding a bath was in order, you filled up the tub with warm water, washing away all the grime and blood that had accumulated over time with a soft hum of contentment.

Once that was done, you got dressed and finally left, bidding the Jin, who was at the counter a warm farewell and thanking him for the many meals.

He waved goodbye to you, telling you he hoped you would come back and visit soon even if it wasn't to stay at the inn and you nodded eagerly, promising to visit him in the future.

You skipped down the pavement, making sure your ears were sufficiently hidden under the hood and tail tucked away thanks to the excessive length of the huge sweatshirt. You thanked the heavens above that you had been born with normal eyes.

The last thing you wanted was to have to wear sunglasses all the time.

Three hours later, you were standing out the gates of the school, completely smushed against the security gate and getting trampled on by the press in their chaos to try and find a way to break in.

Geez, their persistence was annoying.

You would've gone another way if you knew one. This was the only route in and out of the school as far as you were aware.

Squealing when you took a tumble as someone shoved you a little too hard, you winced as you tried to catch yourself from falling, only to scrape your knees when you landed on the rough cement.

Ouch... You grimaced, pulling down on your hood to ensure that it wouldn't slip off and expose your ears. That one hurt.

Puffing out your cheeks, you concluded you weren't going to get anywhere so long as they were here. You took your chances, taking off for Heights Alliance.

Just as you thought, the building was locked but you sniffed the air, eyes lighting up as you spotted the same boy from last week. You had caught him talking to Ojiro before and he had taken the liberty of introducing the two of you. He was sitting on the front steps with a somewhat distant look in his eyes and a small notebook in his hands.

"Midoriya-san!!"

He turned at the sound of your voice, visibly lighting up when he saw you.

"Y/N-chan!!" He greeted enthusiastically, then dropped his hand in concern at your disheveled appearance and bloodied knees, running out to meet you. "What happened?!"

"Ah," You winced, flashing him a canine smile full of guilt as if it was your fault you got hurt. "I got pushed around by those people crowding the front."

Pulling a key from his pocket, the boy laughed along with you before unlocking the front door. "Aizawa-sensei tells us not to talk to them, but I'm pretty sure Kacchan has threatened them before."

You tilted your head, puzzled. "Kacchan?"

That name didn't ring a bell.

He enthusiastically explained the rivalry of his childhood friend as he navigated you through the common area. You sympathized with his story, listening attentively when he mentioned how desperately he wanted to be friends with him and admired him.

Ah, so Kacchan was the explosive pomeranian.

You smiled when he told you that recently things were starting to change between them and hugged him happily when he mentioned that maybe they would finally get to be friends one day.

"How are you so nice to him after he tormented you like that?" You asked, genuinely curious and in awe at how his bullying didn't harden his heart.

Midoriya shuffled towards the kitchen. "Kacchan acts mean but he really isn't. He's really strong so I think he just doesn't want to look weak."

His thoughts rang through your head and you fell silent when he didn't elaborate.

Actions speak louder than words, huh?

Sitting down on one of the couches, you followed him with your eyes as he rummaged through something under the sink. "What are you doing? And aren't you supposed to be in class?"

He straightened up with a small huff, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "Ah, well, they're training today and Aizawa-sensei says I'm not allowed to participate until I learn how to fight without injuring myself."

You tapped a finger to your chin as he came over with a duffle bag in his hand, sitting a respectable distance away from you. "But if you don't train, then how will you get there?"

Midoriya just smiled easily, eyes turning into crescents. "He doesn't really mean that but today he actually wanted me to make sure you got here okay."

You jolted at that.

"He what?!"

"Yeah," His brow furrowed but then smoothed over once he found what he was looking for. "I know it probably seems like Aizawa-sensei doesn't care that much but he actually does, and a lot, for us."

He told you about the USJ incident and the lengths he had gone to protect them when the League attacked.

You were speechless. Sure, this was not that new to you since you had experienced his rugged, begrudging version of kindness over the past couple of days but to have someone go out of their way to make sure you were safe and for them to actually agree to it was a whole other thing.

To hear that you weren't the only one who experienced that side of him made your heart feel warm.

Aww... he's such a softie.

"Ojiro-kun wanted to do it but Sensei said he needed to work with Ectoplasm on his tail movements." Midoriya explained, not noticing the pink that dusted your cheeks as he mentioned his name. "Here."

Blinking, you stared at him for a beat before you realized he was holding something out to you. "Oh!!"

You took the pair of athletic sweatpants with a questioning glance. "What are these for?"

He blushed, stammering. He didn't think he would have to explain it. "W-Well, y-you know, Yaoyorozu-san always k-keeps an emergency bag for these kinds of things and I-I don't think she would mind."

You giggled and his nerves faded a little in wake of your bright laughter. He gave you some band-aids and ointment to apply on your scrapes after you cleaned it.

"That's really thoughtful, thank you." You said.

He scratched the back of his neck shyly, matching your smile before packing away the rest of the things while you went to go change.

Fortunately for you, the slight injury wasn't severe. There was only a slight discoloration from where you had impacted the pavement surrounding the patches where a couple layers of skin had come off.

As soon as you finished taking care of it and put on the pants he had given you over your usual shorts, you exited the bathroom only to find Midoriya in the same place you had left him.

"So, class?" You asked, now that he had fulfilled his mission from Aizawa.

He smiled sheepishly, holding up his phone. "Ah, about that..."

Apparently, the police were held up by traffic at the moment and couldn't deal with the press that were still disrupting the students and staff. One had been foolish enough to try and cross the sensor without a pass, causing the UA barrier to activate. No one could get in or out for the time being.

Since they just built the dorms recently, the teachers were working to extend the barrier around the new buildings but it hasn't been finished yet. Instead, Cementoss created a high wall to keep outsiders out while the finishing touches would be put in place.

So while you couldn't go to school, you also couldn't go anywhere else.

Midoriya sighed, looking awfully forlorn. "I'm sorry, Y/N-san. It looks like we'll be here for a while."

"That's okay!!" You cheered, plopping down next to him, not wanting to see him so sad. "This will give us some time to talk, right? What's your story?"

He was surprised you were able to let go of it so quickly since you seemed so eager to see his classmates, then shook his head as confusion hit him like a truck. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what made you want to go here?" You asked, tucking up your knees and resting your chin on top of your knees. "Why do you want to be a hero?"

The look that crossed his face was one of unbridled joy and determination as he launched into his story after hearing that you wanted to know about him. That look in his eyes only grew brighter the more excited he got and his energy was contagious.

You couldn't help but cheer along at his moments of triumph as he relived the memories.

It connected into him showing you his notebook where he wrote down everything about all sorts of heroes once you asked him how he managed to keep track of everything he had told you in his brain.

The two of you were so engaged with your conversation, hunched over the coffee table as he tore through his notes that neither one of you heard the front door open.

But the loud chatter that flooded the common floor had you both springing to your feet in an instant.

"Welcome back, everyone!!" Midoriya greeted enthusiastically as his peers crashed the party. "Y/N-chan is here!!"

You smiled happily as Ashido launched herself at you, smothering you in a hug.

"Y/N-chan, you're back!!" She shouted excitedly. "Yayy!!!"

"I hope it's alright that I'm borrowing these." You tugged on one of your ears self-consciously as Yaoyorozu greeted you just as warmly. "There was a minor incident earlier."

The raven-haired girl waved you off automatically. "Of course it is!! That's what it's there for after all. You can keep those, I'll replace them later."

Jaw dropping open in surprise at how cool she was, you just managed to catch Uraraka as she flew at you at breaknecking speed. You returned her hug, smiling and bobbing your head along with her as she caught you up on all the latest things that had happened since you were gone after making sure you were okay.

It was almost weird. Almost like you fit right in.

You had only met them once last week and yet they were all so eager to befriend you. You thought you should've been more wary of them but they didn't seem to mean you any harm. Your gaze eagerly scanned for Ojiro, only for your tail to droop slightly when you didn't see him.

Hagakure giggled, picking up on your disappointment. "Aizawa-sensei asked him to stay behind for extra lessons today, but he'll be back later~"

If the invisible girl was visible, you were almost sure you would've seen her wink.

After that energetic yet warm welcome, you were ushered further inside as the boys took over the common space to hash out some friendly competition through a game of Smash.

Bakugou was banned, he broke one too many controllers in his fit of rage last time.

You stumbled through the hallways and jittered nervously as you and the girls took the elevator up to Yaoyorozu's room.

It was rather cramped, given that all her furniture was a lot bigger than her bedroom could handle but that just meant you all could sit in a circle on her enormous bed.

Hagakure eagerly asked if she could paint your nails to which you stammered out you weren't exactly sure what that meant.

An array of shocked gasps had the girls scrambling in a flurry to grab anything and everything needed for an evening of relaxation. Jirou even grabbed her guitar while Yaoyorozu left to go make some tea. Uraraka got to work on detangling your hair, in awe of your fluffy ears. The two of you were caught giggling hysterically as Asui came through the door with the elder girl balancing a tea tray in tow.

The next couple hours consisted of you getting to know Asui better, the frog girl preferring you call her by her first name, Tsuyu, and the girls spoiling you rotten, completely ignoring the fact that they had homework due tomorrow.

You were floored.

Your stomach started to growl and your cheeks pinked when Ashido shrieked at how adorable you were.

Jirou just barely stopped herself from smacking her friend, you were clearly hungry.

Yaoyorozu asked if you would like something to eat and you bowed your head, folding your hands in your lap.

"... If... If it's not too much to ask for." You said quietly.

Yaoyorozu cooed and Hagakure squealed, practically dragging you out of the room and back downstairs. Uraraka and Jirou stayed behind, needing to get to work on a project that wasn't due until the end of the year, but wanting to get started on it now so that they didn't have to do it later.

Midoriya was nowhere to be seen once you got downstairs, but the other boys hadn't moved since you had last seen them with a few exceptions.

Kirishima and Kaminari were still lounging in the same spot but had turned the TV off and had textbooks spread out before them.

Shoji, Aoyama and Iida were in the adjacent corner, all three of them looking up when Ashido bounded over to them.

Asui went over to where Tokoyami was studying, and the two of them started studying for Midnight's upcoming exam.

Sato was in the kitchen when Yaoyorozu came in, greeting her politely when she asked if he could help her make something for you to eat. He blushed a bit, saying how he didn't have much experience cooking since he was more proficient in sweets but that he could try.

"What's going on?"

You turned around at the unfamiliar voice as Yaoyorozu greeted him, with a slight twinge of relief in her tone.

"Todoroki-san!!" Yaoyorozu smiled. "Do you know how to make any meals? Y/N-chan is hungry."

The boy with two-toned hair debated the situation, brow knitting in concentration.

"I'm not sure." He said slowly.

He wasn't sure he'd be able to make you something satisfactory. He really only liked to eat one thing and therefore only knew how to make that well.

"Do you like soba?" He asked you.

You tilted your head, the word not ringing any bells. "What's that?"

Todoroki cracked a small smile at your curiosity, then pushed up his sleeves and immediately got to work alongside Sato while Yaoyorozu fetched what he needed.

You wanted to help them but seeing as how you had no idea what it was or what they were doing, you decided to leave them to it. Sitting on the same stool at the kitchen island as the first night when you came here, you interjected occasionally to grab something they seemed to be looking for in an attempt to not be entirely useless.

Sato was the one to reassure you that there wasn't much to do in preparing it and that your food would be done soon.

Five minutes later, Todoroki was pushing a bowl of hot soba towards you. Sesame and ginger wafted through the air from the broth and your nose scrunched up cutely, bright eyes going wide as you salivated.

"It smells really good!!" You cheered.

A subtle but relieved smile made its way onto his face at the compliment and he handed you a pair of chopsticks. You had been fed hot food so rarely you weren't used to cooling it down before you ate it. You dived in, recalling Aizawa's instructions from before and blowing on it first before tentatively taking a bite.

They were really tasty for something that looked so simple.

You beamed, soup dribbling down the side of your chin once you tasted it. "Thank you, Todoroki-san, Sato-san, Yaoyorozu-chan!!"

The boys bowed while the girl diligently wiped your chin with a napkin and patted your head, happy you liked it.

Content that your needs had been satisfied, Yaoyorozu asked if you wanted anything else before she got started on her homework for the night. You shook your head, thanking her once more before she left, Todoroki following not long after.

Finishing your soba, you watched curiously as Sato whisked something together in a large bowl, checking on the paper on the counter before pressing a couple of buttons on the oven.

"Whatcha doing?" You asked, nose twitching,

His gaze flickered up to yours and he smiled. "I'm making a chiffon cake. Would you like to try it once it's done?"

You beamed, practically drooling at the thought of it already. "Yes, please!!"

The aromatic scent of chocolate hazelnut made your mouth water as he pulled it out of the oven.

He made casual conversation with you as you stared longingly at the cake that had to set first before he cut it. You were surprised to find out that he liked baking more than cooking but nodded your head understandingly when he explained his quirk to you.

"That's so cool!!" You exclaimed, flapping your hands excitedly. "You convert all of that into power and it makes you stronger?!"

"Yes, but it doesn't last very long." Sato told you as he sliced the confection carefully. "And my brain doesn't work as well but it is quite handy to have in a difficult situation if I have some snacks on hand."

Your eyes lit up when he handed a generous slice to you on a plate rimmed with cherry blossoms. It almost looked too good to eat.

Almost.

You waited until he got back from distributing it to his peers who were still in various spots on the common floor before sharing it with him so you could eat it together. Of course he didn't remember to save any for him.

"Isn't this a lot of work?" You mumbled around a mouthful of cake as he explained how he'd been trying all sorts of new recipes. "Doesn't it get tiring?"

Sato nodded, cleaning up his work space and grabbing new bowls from the cabinets. "Yeah but it's worth it since it helps me with my quirk. Besides, I get to share it with everyone when they're done."

You giggled, pointing at him with your fork. "Yes, that's definitely a plus."

A hearty guffaw erupted from his lungs, causing several others to look over in your direction but your smile only grew wider.

You made someone laugh. Really laugh. It made warmth bloom in your chest and you kicked your feet happily, chomping on the last bit of cake with a blissed out look on your face that was equal parts from the confection and your new friend.

He might've looked intimidating but he was nothing but kind.

The front door cracked open and your head turned at the various greetings that came from around the shared space had your eyes widening.

You dropped your fork and it clattered on the countertop of the kitchen island.

"Ojiro-san!!"

Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel​

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

Shackled Chapter 10

Summary: After nearly ten years, Sam Winchester calls Miriam Bard to collect on a life debt. Unfortunately for Miriam, Sam leaves out a few important details.

WARNINGS CHANGE EACH CHAPTER, PLEASE CHECK EACH TIME. 

Warning: Show level violence, implied loss of family, grieving, depression, spiraling, cursing, mentions of Demon!Dean, emotional manipulation, mind fuckery, psychological manipulation, questioning one’s sanity, emotional exhaustion, suicide attempt, mention of previous suicide attempt.

Word Count: 3165

Author’s Note: Please read the warnings. PLEASE read the warnings. Thanks to @cracksinthewalls​ for the mega beta. Also, please read the warnings.

Please read/heed the warnings. 18+ ONLY. 

In case you missed it: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 Masterlist

Chapter 10

Miriam didn’t know how long she’d been sitting on the bedside, staring at the gun clenched in her nerveless fingers. How did she get here? She'd been standing in front of Dean, reeling from the terrible truths he’d forced her to face, and then she found herself here.

In the unfamiliar, anachronistic setting of her room in the bunker, no sound except the barest whisper of the air system, Miriam was blurry and out of focus. She couldn’t feel the bed beneath her legs, the freezing floor under her feet. 

Was she even awake?

Doesn’t matter, she thought. Everything he’d said was true. He had seen right through every one of her denials and shattered all of her self-crafted delusions. She had failed everyone and everything of consequence to her. At this point, it no longer mattered how or why. She had nothing left but the pain.

She took in a slow, shaking breath through her nose, let it out through her mouth.

Setting him free was out of the question. She wasn’t going to beg him, compromise the last shred of self she had left making a devil’s bargain, and he knew it. Dean was right. She had one choice left to make, one more chance to get it right.

One way out.

She stood, legs moving of their own accord, and crossed the small room. She rested the gun on the rim of the sink, staring down at her fingers as they gripped the cold metal. One more breath, in then out, and she looked up into the mirror. 

Aaron’s face looked sorrowfully back at her. She drank him in, the rip of his loss tearing deeper. Her empty hand traced the lines of his forehead, his cheekbones, the nose their family had inherited from generations back on her mother’s side. When she met his gaze, she saw tears in his eyes as he raised his palm, and she pressed her hand to the image of his.

Her mind flashed back suddenly, and she was standing not in the bunker but in the rundown motel room she and Aaron had rented for that last hunt. She’d come back two weeks after his funeral with the desperate idea that she could find something he might have imprinted on, some object holding his spirit so she could conjure him, tell him to his face she knew how badly she’d messed up.

That she was sorry.

She’d stared into the mirror for hours, and he had stared right back, but she knew in her heart it wasn’t really her brother. The despair had swelled, risen to a crescendo, and she’d raised the gun, placed it to her temple, gone so far as to cock her weapon. She stood, shaking, staring in the mirror until her nerves and her hand failed her.

When the sun rose the next day, she unloaded her gun, shoved it to the bottom of her duffel, and didn’t look at it again until nearly a year later when Sam Winchester called in her blood debt.

Failure upon failure.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her own face was wet, cold, but she kept her hand pressed to the glass. “I love you.” Then Aaron was gone, and she was left in the empty room, her stricken reflection gazing back at her. Alone. 

Yeah, that makes sense, she thought. One last breath, in then out. I can do this. One last chance to get it right. 

She raised the gun.

Before she could draw back the hammer, a hand shot across her field of vision, closing around her wrist and pulling her around. The gun fell from her grip as she reflexively shoved at her attacker. She jerked to the side, her lips drawing back in a desperate snarl, and struck with her free hand again.

“Miriam, stop! It’s me!”

Sam’s frantic voice reached her through a storm of anguish, and she stilled in his grasp. He kept his hold on her forearm, his face flushed with confusion and dismay. They stared at each other, panting, for a long, loaded pause before Sam finally broke the silence.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Maybe he was apologizing for leaving so much out before asking this of her. Maybe he was apologizing for asking this of her at all. Maybe he was expressing empathy at her whole situation. Whatever the reason, Miriam’s heart began to calm at his words. Her expression must have relaxed because Sam’s shoulders slumped as he let out a breath and released her arm.

“I called to check in before the priest started his ritual, and your phone went straight to voicemail. I got back here as fast as I could. What-”

Miriam drew back her fist, catching Sam across his cheek, snapping his face to the side. She felt this punch like she hadn’t felt any of the times she hit Dean, and it shocked her arm all the way up to her shoulder. It hurt like hell, and she felt relief spreading through her abdomen.

“We need to talk.”

Sam straightened and turned back to her, his face comically stunned. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before clamping his lips shut. His eyes clenched shut, and he sucked in a steadying breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his good hand. Then he opened his eyes and gave her a tense, tight-lipped smile. 

“Yeah. We do. Hungry?”

…

Neither of them knew the best place to start, so, as they began assembling some sandwiches, Miriam simply began updating Sam on everything that had gone down since his departure. She figured there wasn’t much point in hiding anything that had happened; Dean would probably tell Sam anyway, if for no other reason than to get under both their respective skins.

Recalling the order of events was difficult, she realized, and when she added up how little time had actually passed, she was shocked. 

It felt like at least a week, she thought. 

Sam managed to hold his tongue through her entire recounting, though his face had gone through the full spectrum of reds and purples when she’d told him about the nightmares. When she got to her very last encounter with his brother, Sam nearly cut off his finger along with the cheese he was slicing. 

The choking noise coming from his mouth didn’t do anything to alleviate her concern.

After he caught his breath and chugged down the glass of water Miriam provided, he and Miriam moved over to the long table, sitting side by side. Miriam didn’t know about Sam, but she didn’t particularly feel like making eye contact with the younger Winchester just now, even if his coloring was gradually returning to normal.

Though both of them needed the fuel, neither Sam nor Miriam seemed particularly inclined to eat.

“Your turn,” Miriam said, unable to stand yet another bout of long, uncomfortable silence. “You left me with zero clue and almost as little prep. What the hell, Sam, you and I are supposed to be the smart ones. What’s going on with Dean? This ritual?”

Sam’s eyebrows lowered, and he straightened, all set to put her off or argue, but he was cut off by the slam of her fist on the table. Their plates clanged, jittering dangerously close to the edge.

“Dammit, Sam, my life is literally on the line here! I don’t care about your bruised pride, I don’t care about your stupid secrets. You called me here, you exposed me to that demon with barely any warning at all. Tell me the truth, and don’t you dare try to bullshit me.”

She watched the wind drain from Sam’s metaphorical sails. His shoulders slumped as he propped his forehead up in his good hand.

“You’re right, of course you’re right. I’m sorry. Let me just...Okay, yeah. But it’s gotta be a summarized version, otherwise we’ll be here all night.”

He offered her a fragile half-smile, and though she didn’t return it, she relented enough to drop her scowl. 

“A while back, Dean got something called the Mark of Cain. Yes, the mark on his arm, and yes, the Cain. From the Bible. Long story very, very short. It ate away at him. Made him want, need to hurt, to kill. There was this old weapon, the First Blade, and we needed it to end this huge threat. And then…He...Dean died. I brought him back here, carried him…”

His voice trailed off, his lips working hard as his neck and shoulders tensed. He squeezed his eyes shut, and Miriam reached out, tentatively laying her hand on his arm. He huffed out a sharp breath and continued.

“And then he came back, but as a demon. He took off with...another demon, and they were gone for weeks. I hunted him, I never gave up on him. I...did some really terrible-”

Sam stopped, his lips pressed together so hard they turned white. He steeled himself and looked over, meeting Miriam’s eyes for the first time since they’d started talking. 

“I did what I had to, to get my brother back, and I will keep doing exactly that.”

There wasn’t much she could argue against that. She would have preferred more details about exactly what terrible things Sam had done, but Sam’s transgressions were irrelevant to their current situation. He would have to face his own consequences eventually, and her getting the dirty gossip now was not priority.

“So that mark on Dean’s arm more or less turned him into a demon,” Miriam asked, not sure what else to say.

Sam nodded, picking at the crust of his bread. “It was changing him even before he  died, but it brought him back. I’m not sure it will actually let him die,” he added. 

“And the ritual? How’d you even find out about it?”

Sam looked down at his plate again and sighed. “Okay, again, summary. We needed to cure a demon in order to complete a trial.” He held up a hand to forestall Miriam’s question, and she sighed.

“I told you, here all night. I don’t have that kind of energy right now. Anyway, we found out the Men of Letters had created a ritual to cure a demon without damaging the host body. I had to find a hospital with the right kind of priest, get the blood blessed. There’s a spell, and I have to inject Dean with the blood. It’s not the most pleasant way to spend a weekend, but it’s my only shot to get my brother back now.”

Sam let out his breath, rolling both of his shoulders back with a painful popping noise. He glanced over at Miriam again, chewing on the inside of his lip as if he were struggling with a decision.

“Miriam, I’m sorry. For all of it. I knew about Aaron, I should have thought…I just...It’s Dean, my brother. People are hurt because of me. I hurt...tortured. I tortured a lot of demons, but I had to. I couldn’t-”

“I get it, Sam. I get all of it, even leaving the admittedly big details out. I’m not happy about it,” she added, narrowing her eyes at him. He had the decency to look properly embarrassed. “And you’d damned well better not leave something that vital out again. But, then again, it’s not like I was one hundred percent honest with you, either. If I had been at all smart, I could have told you I was in no shape.”

“How are you now?” he asked. “How are you really?” 

“I’m...here,” she answered. “Dean really got into my head, like you said he would, but all that mess was there to begin with. He just...he knew how to stir it all up, knew exactly what to say to get me to react how he wanted. And I did.”

They sat for several moments, lost in the memories of their own transgressions. Sam finally let out a breath and stood. He rested his fingertips on the table, his injured arm fidgeting in the sling. His jaw clenched, tension in every line of his rigid stance.

“Miriam, I don’t know if this is going to work. I’ve only done this once before, and it definitely started to work then, but I didn’t get to finish the ritual. I already gave Dean the first dose before I came to find you, and he reacted differently than I was expecting. It’s going to take several more doses, but...look, I know I have no right to ask anything else of you…”

He trailed off, lips trembling as he pinched them shut. His eyes were shining suddenly, red-rimmed and small, and he looked terribly vulnerable. He glanced up at the ceiling, clearing his throat. Miriam’s heart twisted, and she stood, reaching out to lay her hand on his shoulder.

“We can back each other up,” she said, adding, “but I can’t be alone with him again.”

Sam shook his head, unable to meet her eyes. She continued.

“You need to know I wasn’t magically fixed when you stopped me firing that gun, Sam. I haven’t changed my mind. You need help, and that much I can do, as long as you’ve got my back. But after this, I’m done. With everything.”

Sam’s face was stricken as his fingers tightened around hers. “Miriam, you can’t-”

“It’s not your call, Sam. I’m not your brother; it’s not up to you to fix me.”

Sam flinched as if she’d struck him physically, but she didn’t relent, and eventually, he nodded, though reluctantly. She released his shoulder and busied herself clearing up the food neither of them had been able to stomach after all.

Time to face the music, she thought randomly. At Sam’s questioning glance, she nodded and followed him from the kitchen. They stopped just outside the dungeon, and Sam raised his eyebrows at her.

“Are you sure? After what you and he...you don’t have to go in here. I can…”

“You don’t know exactly what this treatment is doing to him, you said it yourself,” she reminded him. “You’re here now, he’ll have to split his focus. We’re stronger together. Let’s get this over with.”

Sam nodded, steeled himself, and stepped inside. Miriam followed suit; the moment she stepped through the door, though, she could feel a slight but palpable difference. The pull to go to Dean was diminished. The hunger she had to admit she still felt when she looked at him was duller, less fierce.

The demon in question also seemed a little more subdued, a little more cautious. Dean straightened from his tired slump, green eyes narrowing at the two of them. He frowned, evincing disapproval as he clicked his tongue at Miriam.

“You know, when I didn’t hear a gunshot, I thought maybe you’d just found a quieter way to do it. Figured somebody couldn’t possibly be that big a failure at absolutely everything, but here you are.”

Sam busied himself pulling a huge, blood-filled syringe from a cooler on the table as Dean continued to eye Miriam. She picked up the remaining flask from the table, making a mental note to ask Sam if he had more holy water stashed somewhere in the bunker. She unscrewed the cap and turned to face Dean.

“Or maybe you just need another push,” Dean said quietly. His eyebrows lowered as he smiled straight at her, leaning forward earnestly. “I could scratch that itch all day. Get rid of Sammy, here, and we can-”

She flicked the holy water in his face, and Sam went in with the needle as Dean flinched back. Her heart stuttered as Dean cursed and growled in pain, his breath coming in short, distressed bursts. His skin flushed, darker than the last time she’d splashed him. Sweat broke out across his forehead as he thrashed against the ropes, his tendons standing out harshly under his flesh.

“Sam…” Miriam started, but she didn’t know what warning she should give. The draw she felt from Dean was definitely less now, so the blood was doing something to the demon aspect of him. Dean didn’t look like he was being cured of anything, though. 

He looked like he needed help.

“I don’t know what else to do but keep going,” Sam whispered, half to himself. 

“You could start by letting me out of these goddamn cuffs,” Dean groaned, his head rolling back as he struggled to catch his breath. “You’re killin’ me here, Sammy.”

Sam started towards Dean, but Miriam grabbed his arm. He turned tortured eyes on her, but she shook her head, urging him silently towards the door. Dean might be genuinely in distress, but if what Sam told her was true, they couldn't do anything to help him except continue the treatment. 

Sam resisted for one more heartbeat before allowing himself to be led from the dungeon. Miriam resolutely shut the door behind them and turned to Sam.

“You did it. We did it. Now we’ve just got to do it another half dozen times or so.”

Sam snorted, running a shaking hand up his face and back through his hair. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“What now?” she asked. A yawn escaped her before she could stuff it down, and Sam paused, taking in her drooping frame and exhausted stance.

“I think somebody could use a nap,” he said with a tired smile. She raised her eyebrow sharply, and he held up his hand in mock surrender. “I know, I know, we both do. We’ll take it in turns. I’ll stay up while you sleep, then swap out.”

She hesitated, torn between the aching exhaustion wearing her down and the fear of what always came when she slept.

“Sam, I don’t want to ask this of you, but I…I already had nightmares, and since I came here, they’ve gotten worse. Could you...god, I feel so pathetic asking, but could you sit with me? Not on the bed or anything creepy, and I get it if you need to prep something else for Dean’s treatment, but…”

She stopped, breathed, and forced the words past the lump in her throat. “I need to not be alone right now.”

If Sam had done anything but nod and take her hand, Miriam was pretty sure she would have disintegrated from shame. Instead, he simply led the way back to her room and pulled a chair up beside the head of the bed.

He sat silently, eyes downcast as she splashed water on her face and let her hair down. Miriam kicked off her shoes with growing anxiety, but when she lay down on top of the covers and closed her eyes, she felt Sam’s rough, warm hand closed over her own.

“I get it, Miri. I’ve got your back.”

She fell straight into a dead sleep, and for the first time in a year, she didn’t have a single dream.

…

Chapter 11

[tabloidtoc]

National Enquirer, December 28

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Ghislaine Maxwell scandal explodes 

Page 2: George Clooney was rushed to the hospital after rapidly dropping 28 pounds to play an ailing astronomer in his latest movie The Midnight Sky and the harrowing incident has infuriated worried wife Amal Clooney -- George’s scare came when he was diagnosed with life-threatening pancreatitis days before he was scheduled to start filming on a glacier in Finland -- Amal was unhappy and angry that he put his health on the line for the role and she was also furious because this wasn’t the first time the father of her twins has been in harm’s way and she’s demanding he take better care of himself so he’ll be around to care for his kids 

Page 3: Lori Loughlin’s deluded daughter Olivia Jade Giannulli is clueless over the college admissions scandal that landed her parents in jail and believes her own hype according to a body language expert -- in an interview on Jada Pinkett Smith’s Red Table Talk Olivia claimed she had no idea posing for pictures on a rowing machine to finagle a crew scholarship to the University of Southern California despite never having practiced the sport was deceitful but body language expert Susan Constantine said Olivia doesn’t appear to have any understanding of the consequences of her actions or those of mom Lori and dad Mossimo Giannulli -- after observing Olivia’s confession Constantine said she didn’t notice any deceptive indicators such as pauses in her speech or shrugging of her shoulders however she labeled Olivia completely unequivocally oblivious which she said made it challenging to judge Olivia’s truthfulness 

Page 4: Lonely Diane Keaton is longing for love and she’s turned to former flame Jack Nicholson for help in landing a new guy -- Diane is truly desperate to find a man and she knows if there’s one person who can help her navigate the dating scene after all this time it’s Jack -- the Oscar-winning actress shocked the world when she recently admitted she hasn’t been on a date in 35 years and she made a joke of it but the pandemic has made her realize how lonely she really is -- Diane would never date Jack again but knows he has a lot of eligible friends who would fit her dating profile 

* Dying Olivia Newton-John worries endlessly about her daughter Chloe and made a touching final request of close pal John Travolta: Please take care of Chloe after I’m gone -- Olivia’s concerns for Chloe spiked after she blasted the COVID-19 vaccine on social media writing that natural medicine is the party she belongs to -- Olivia has been battling stage 4 breast cancer while John lost his wife Kelly Preston to the same disease and John loves and admires Olivia for the way she’s battled this disease and she’s given him the hope and encouragement he needs -- now Chloe’s ongoing issues have pushed Olivia to beg John to pledge he’ll be there for her daughter because Chloe has spent over $450,000 on multiple plastic surgeries including breast enhancements and a nose job and lip enhancements and Botox and she’s also battled anorexia and depression which led to bouts with cocaine and alcohol addiction -- Olivia has always been deeply concerned about who would look out for Chloe if she wasn’t around and now that she can see the end is near she asked John to be that person; he never blinked an eye and said of course 

Page 5: Ozzy Osbourne’s frail and feeble appearance has friends fearing for the rocker but he has no plans to abandon a 2022 comeback even if it kills him -- the 72-year-old singer has battled Parkinson’s disease and crippling nerve damage but has vowed he will die onstage -- nobody disputes he has the heart of a lion and it’s great to see him out and about again recording music and talking the good talk but ultimately Ozzy is a very sickly guy who needs to protect himself and not charge around trying to delude himself by living life at a pace that doesn’t make sense anymore 

Page 6: Rattled reality star Kylie Jenner is living in fear after being terrorized by two crazed fans and is now spending $350,000 a month on a 25-person security detail -- Kylie filed court documents seeking a restraining order against Justin Bergquist who allegedly broke into her $36.5 million California home last month 

Page 7: Lonely Ryan Seacrest may have nearly half a billion bucks in the bank but he’d trade in his riches for another shot at love -- he was so devastated by his breakup with on-again off-again galpal Shayna Taylor last summer he fears he may never find a woman to spend the rest of his life with and he now realizes her put his career before his personal life one too many times and may suffer for it forever -- Ryan’s recent health woes have been a wake-up call and forced him to understand the price he’s paying for taking his partners for granted for so long -- Ryan now realizes life is too short to go it alone and it’s finally dawned on him he’s not invincible and not so self-sufficient after all 

* Miley Cyrus’ admission that she’s had a lot of FaceTime sex has left friends and advisers fearing she may be setting herself up for some unwanted exposure -- though Miley explained she’s turned to virtual hookups to avoid physical contact during the pandemic but she’s putting herself at an entirely different kind of risk and she’s setting herself up as a potential victim of revenge porn 

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Brooke Burke showed off her toned figure in Malibu, Andrew Garfield looked bored on the NYC set of Tick Tick...Boom!, Busy Philipps cleaning, Audrina Patridge and her daughter Kirra on a Beverly Hills playdate 

Page 11: Guy Fieri is eating up heaps of praise for handing out $500 grants to more than 43,000 restaurant workers across the nation -- he scrambled to raise over $21.5 million in seven weeks to help legions of unemployed restaurant laborers who have suffered financially due to the COVID-19 health and economic crisis -- through his new Restaurant Employee Relief Fund Guy personally buttonholed fat cats at cash-rich corporations such as PepsiCo and Uber Eats and Moet Hennessy USA to make donations -- he shows how he did it and shines a light on the industry’s continuing challenges in Restaurant Hustle 2020 a documentary he produced for the Food Network 

* Garth Brooks and Trisha Yearwood are spreading yuletide cheer with their TV holiday special but they’re more interested in ringing cash registers than Christmas bells -- Garth and Trisha rake in $60 million a year from concert ticket sales and CD purchases and merchandising but the couple saw their cash flow slow during the pandemic -- they lost a bunch of money but they had the unique opportunity to do TV specials and grab a big chunk of it back -- while the $10 million they are pocketing for their TV specials won’t make up for what they would have netted on tour it was a sweet stocking stuffer and they both want to get back on the road and really rake it in but TV has made the wait a lot easier 

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- With Beyonce and Taylor Swift facing off for Song of the Year at the upcoming Grammy Awards producers are scrambling to prevent another Kanye West explosion like what happened in 2009

* Killing off The Talk may be the only hope of saving Drew Barrymore’s tanking talk show

* The Real Housewives of New York are treating the first Black cast member Eboni K. Williams with kid gloves because no one wants to come across as racist 

* Niecy Nash and Jessica Betts (picture) 

Page 13: January Jones’ desperate bid for online attention has pals concerned she may be cracking up -- her red-hot career appears to have cooled since Mad Men ended in 2015 and January is dying to land another plum part like Betty Draper but she’s going about it the wrong way -- she’s been posting sexy bikini pictures and leggy dance numbers on Instagram but that’s not the way to catch the eye of casting directors especially with so few shows in production during the COVID-19 lockdown 

* Caitlyn Jenner has reached out to trans actor Elliot Page offering to be his big sister in an opportunistic PR ploy -- while Caitlyn was one of many trans celebs including Jazz Jennings and Geena Rocero to offer Elliot congratulations and support, Caitlyn viewed the announcement as a new opportunity to leap back into the limelight and she believes that by aligning herself with Elliot she can regain her status as an activist and the symbol of transgender rights in Hollywood -- Elliot is happy to listen to Caitlyn’s advice but he’s been navigating his gender issues for years and doesn’t need guidance and he’s not going to be rude but he doesn’t need the help 

Page 14: Crime 

Page 15: A never-before-heard audio recording is of iconic soul singer James Brown’s wish to leave his $100 million fortune to educate poor children -- in the garbled 1999 recording the singer who died suddenly in 2006 called the creation of his I Feel Good foundation his lasting legacy but his precious foundation has not seen a dime because his fortune has remained tied up in court since his death which is the subject of an investigation by the Fulton County, Georgia District Attorney’s office after allegations surfaced that Brown might have been poisoned by someone after his money 

Page 16: American Life 

Page 17: What Shocked and Rocked in 2020 -- the best scoops and stories of the year 

Page 25: Fired Hillsong Church pastor Carl Lentz was so starstruck by his celebrity parishioners he believed he was a star himself and his ego fueled his shocking fall from grace and now he’s getting mental health treatment after being accused of cheating on his wife and getting sacked for moral failures -- Carl tended the trendy megachurch’s New York City flock and regularly rubbed shoulders with celebs including NBA star Kevin Durant and singer Selena Gomez and even once invited Justin Bieber to live with him before being booted by bigwigs but now he’s said to be getting help at an outpatient facility specializing in depression and pastoral burnout but cunning Carl may have made the move simply to revamp his wrecked reputation 

Page 26: Prince Harry and Meghan Markle are heading to couples therapy in a desperate bid to stay together because their marriage is hanging by a thread -- the pair are at each other’s throats as they struggle to adjust to their new life in America -- Harry’s gone from being excited about the move to feeling tortured and it’s like he swapped his royal prison in Britain for a new hell in a $14 million California mansion and he fears he’s made a terrible mistake but Meghan’s ordering him to man up and grab this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make millions away from the monarchy’s suffocating shadow -- the fighting came to a head before the holidays when Harry was feeling especially homesick and guilty about abandoning his family especially his brother Prince William and his grandmother Queen Elizabeth -- adding to their troubles Meghan seems hellbent on staying in the public eye during the pandemic and she masterminded their personal video calls to charities in London and the U.S. and the secret deliveries of meals to the needy but then she made them public and the truth is it’s The Meghan Show now and Harry’s just the side act 

Page 27: A charming Chinese spy bedded two Midwestern mayors and courted other clueless politicians to weasel her way into U.S. government circles -- Chinese national Christina Fang also known as Fang Fang, reportedly entered the U.S. as a college student in 2011 

Page 31: Candice Bergen moaned that at the age of 74 she’s a wreck and that she has a wattle -- Candice admitted to having her eyes done while filming the Murphy Brown reboot because they were very hooded and as for today she knows she should have injections because she has deep lines along her lip but she can’t take the pain 

* Rachael Ray lost her New York home to a blazing inferno but her holidays were salvaged by the warmth of community spirit -- following the devastating fire she and her husband moved into the property’s guesthouse and in a clip on The Rachael Ray Show the emotional host showed off her festively decorated digs and gushed she didn’t know where she’d be without friends and a community and people so dear to her that helped her bring Christmas to life even when you’re not at home 

Page 32: Health Watch -- blood test predicts Alzheimer’s 

Page 34: Longtime lovebirds Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell are hoping to make a movie with their whole family -- the star-studded cast would include Goldie’s kids Kate Hudson and Oliver Hudson and the couple’s son Wyatt Russell -- as for filming with the entire gang Goldie gushed that they have thought about it and she’d love to do something with her kids and the grandchildren too 

* Hollywood Hookups -- Kristin Cavallari and Jeff Dye heating up, Malik Beasley and Larsa Pippen dating but Malik’s wife Montana Yao filed for divorce, Chrishell Stause and Keo Motsepe dating 

Page 36: Infamous Hollywood hotel Chateau Marmont has a storied history of sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll ever since it opened its doors in 1929 and nearly a century later it hasn’t been tamed -- even during the pandemic the majestic hotel is wild with drunks, overdoses and luckily averted suicide attempts and according to 911 records the debauched celebrity haunt is filled with people having breakdowns -- the Chateau’s crazy days and nights are legendary: it’s where John Belushi died in one of the bungalows in 1982 from a deadly cocaine-heroin concoction 

Page 38: One of the most iconic images from the James Bond films which is a handgun used by Sean Connery in Dr. No has sold for $256,000 at auction in Beverly Hills -- the gun is a deactivated semi-automatic Walther PP pistol -- the winning bidder who asked to remain anonymous is an American who’s seen every James Bond film with his children -- a helmet created for Tom Cruise in Top Gun also sold at the auction for $108,000 while a sword used by Bruce Willis in Pulp Fiction sold for $35,200 

* Dolly Parton has one major thing left on her bucket list which is she wants to see Beyonce sing Jolene one of the country star’s signature songs -- Jolene has been recorded more than any other song Dolly has ever written but that isn’t enough for her because she also wants to see it updated by one of the top female stars of a new generation -- it has been recorded worldwide over 400 times in lots of different languages but nobody’s ever had a really big hit record on it and Dolly always hoped somebody might do it someday by someone like Beyonce 

* Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson has wrestled his way into the alcohol market with his own tequila brand and lifted it into first place as the most successful spirit launch in history and he’s even on track to double George Clooney’s first-year launch -- Dwayne is expected to move more than 300,000 cases of small-batch Teremana Tequila in its first year of trading 

Page 40: Smitten singer Rihanna has fallen hard for A$AP Rocky but friends fear the playboy rapper will leave her broken-hearted -- Rocky is a charming guy but he also has a love ‘em and leave ‘em reputation and everyone’s concerned she’s more into him than he is into her -- Rihanna’s desperate to meet a man she can see herself with for the rest of her life and she believes Rocky might be the one but everybody thinks she’s rushing into things with Rocky -- Rocky is not interested in a long-term romance and Rihanna shouldn’t be thinking of this as more than a port in the storm 

* Lizzo is livin’ large and she’s showing every inch of her jiggles and folds on TikTok -- the body-positivity enthusiast wore a white bikini for an all-angles video in which she amply demonstrated the tricks models and celebs use to look slimmer -- she bared her belly and back and legs and sometimes jiggled her thighs or grabbed a hunk of herself to prove there’s more to luscious ladies than meets the eye and wrote, “Wild to see the body positive movement come so far. Proud of the big girls who gave it wings.” 

Page 42: Red Carpet -- The Crown stars -- Claire Foy, Emma Corrin, Gillian Anderson, Vanessa Kirby, Erin Doherty 

Page 47: Odd List -- baseball fan Darren Johnson hatched an unusual idea for his new chicken coop making it a model of Houston’s former Eighth Wonder of the World The Astrodome

[shnowbilicat]

FNAF Squad Reference Sheets

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

The time has finally arrived!

After many years of cursing myself about making Reference Sheets fo my characters I pulled myself together and busted out 4 Refs for my main FNAF Squad! X3

... never ever owo

Seriously, it nearly killed me drawing these. The only saving grace was that I had a base body that I just copy-pasted and changed up a little in hights and body type/s X'D

But after 3 weeks I finally did it and I love every single one of these!! Seriously, love them, they perfect, I'm SO proud of them and myself for making them X3

And of course Vinnie had to be the first one of them all, cuz duh X'D

URGH I just love Vincent so much! Yeah, yeah, call me whatever you want, but this particular Purple Man will always be my Number 1. He's the most fun Character I made, ever, and without him I don't know who I would be today. He's important to me and I care ALOT about him <3

Rick is my soft bb boi. I love him, I love how I drew him and anybody who says anything against him is going to have a problem with me e3e

Jokes aside, I would've never thought that my 'Purple Man'-wanna be that I spontaneously made in a FNAF 2 RP would become such a great character. OP af, maybe a bit basic, but also so god damn interesting and fun.

I just can't, okay? Rick is my soft boy and I love him ... and I love him with Vincent, they just too perfect qWq

PurpleShadow for life <33

Aaaand with Keith my FNAF Universe crumbled into pieces X'D

Well, not really BECAUSE of him, but FNAF 4 really was something that was hard to add into my Universe, since it's mostly fixed on Vincent's side of the story.

But, I really appreciated Keith being made in the first place! He opened up another way to introduce the Nightmare Animatronics and with Keith there was another part of Vincent's and Rick's story to make it a little more interesting. He was also the one who gave PG a purpose in the Universe, so I'm actually really glad to have this edgy-wanna be in my squad X'3

I'm still in shock on how similar he is to Necro, a Sonic OC that is paired up with a perverted God, and Echo, a cyborg Pikachu with a bright red robot right eye, AND basically looking like a Darkrai gijinka and also having nightmare abilties. Still in shock about the Darkrai thing, since I haven't played Pokemon at all in that time, or even ownig a Darkrai of my own at that time to even think about :''3

And last but not least we have my favorite perv boi, PG X3

I remember how this boi started and I'm so glad that I managed to come up with a really good story to integrate him into the Universe without breaking Vincent's story and dangerious and dark theme.

... in return PG became one of my most tragic Characters I have, whoops X'D

Eitherway, love PG, he needs more love and more perv <3

He and Keith were the most chill Refs to make, hands down and I'm so glad that I could make them as fast as I did X'D

Together with the others I had alot of fun making these Refs and changing my boiz a bit up here and there, optimizing their designs and giving them new life in general X3

(Below are smol bios for each character)

--

Vincent, the Purple Man.

He's a cunning Mastermind and confident in his killing skills. He's no opponent somebody should take lightly, Vincent is fast, strong and agile, always thinking of a plan and being one step ahead from his enemy. Due to him dying and haunting an ANimatronic suit himself this Purple Guy has the ability to turn into a 'Ghost-Form' that allows him to do all the typical Ghost stuff, but sadly all of that just for a very short time. After his victims forgive him however, seeing the torture Vincent was going through, he was given another chance at life, with a new body that doesn't age and can heal itself. Vincent doesn't really like other people and shows off his own confidence to stay ahead. But sometimes he can be a real dork around his friends and have a great time with them, joking around and messing with them.

He smokes from time to time and drinks ALOT of coffee to try and stay awake for his own sanity, as grueling nightmares of his past horrid actions still haunt him to this day. Vincent tries his best to forget as he has been forgiven, and also make up for what he has done, but some habits are hard to break and some wandering spirits are still after his second chance of life ... .

--

Rick, the Shadow Man.

A friendly and helpful individual that would give his life for his friends. Don't take him as a fool, Rick might look like your average goody two shoes, but the moment somebody harms him or his friends Rick pulls off his kiddie gloves. His Ghost-Form, also known as his Shadow Form, is the most dangerious creatures somebody could face. Hvaing all the abilities as a Ghost, plus controlling shadows, hiding away in them, modifying his body, having a radar-like abilty making him aware of his sorroundings and the people around him; Rick is a force to be recken with. All these abilities he gained after his best friend, the Purple Man, killed him in a blood rush, making Rick a  haunting, vengeful Ghost and fusing with the darkness around him. Though after Rick realized how much hurt he gave Vincent he forgave him and is now walking the world with anew life and body, that doesn't gae and can heal itself.

Rick is an optimist and will always try to talk things out. He loves kids and can play the guitar very well. His past does weight hard on him, but he tries to move forward enjoy his new life with his old and new friends.

--

Keith, the Nightmare Man.

He might send out vibes that make people think that he's rather emotionless, non caring, maybe even easily angered. And even though Keith likes to burst out in anger or annoyance, that is all in good fun. Behind the dark facade is a really warm hearted and nice guy that cannot sit still whenever someone is crying or hurt, if just a bump or a serious injury. He has very deep expertises in both mechanical, technical and the mdeical field and is always there to support his friends and innocent people cought in the middle. Due to Vincent, Keith lost his life as well, but started to walk the wolrd again as a raging vengence dragged him back into the living world. This gave him the push to show off his skills and new abilities to form dreams to his won will, creating nightmares and even forcing people to do his bidding and create abominations that could tear appart anything he pleased ... which were his former friends, Vincent and Rick. After a violent fight though these two men showed Keith the light and he too was forgiving them for what had happened. Now he works together with his old friends, protecting his new and improving his skills even more, while stitching his friends back togetehr whenever they dare to get themselves into trouble.

Keith can be really serious about his work, but he knows how to laugh and have a good time, showing off his new creations and lovingly helping and caring about his friends. Though his past actions have created something he still curses himself for.

--

PG, the Purple Guy.

What can be said about this guy? He's a careless, chill and very perverted guy, that lives life without a second thought. PG looks and acts alot like an idiot, but deep down he's just as dangerious and inteligent as Vincent, as PG himself is a Purple Guy as well. His origin is from a differet Universe and due to an unfortunate circumstance he ended up as ginue pig for experiments and a slave for another's amusement. His spirit was broken ... until something happened that gave PG the will to escape and follow his new friends, Vincent, Rick and the others back to their world. With his own world destroyed and nowhere to go he wandered around and bumped into Keith,bonding with him and even becoming a memeber of the new Fazbear family. PG also died and got pulled back, but compared to the others, his Ghost form and self healing ability is broken and unstable to say the least.

He doesn't like to get in serious trouble, but loves to tease and have fun with his friends, while also drinking like there was no tomorrow and annoying Keith with his sexual advances and jokes.

[mcrmadness]

🌺💘🌷 GET TO KNOW YOUR MUTUALS TAG 🌷💘🌺

Rules: When you get this, it means someone wants to know more about you, so list 5 things about yourself you want your followers to know! They can be as simple as your age or as complex as your deepest fear, as long as it’s something you’re comfortable with sharing. When you’re done and if you want to, send this to 10 people you want to get to know better!

Tagged by: @cats-crushesandhistory, thank you!!! Tagging: @stufenlosregelbar, @hanhan156, @charlotte-lancer, @autumnrebel, @cupcakecurl, @lycanrvc, - six is enough for now. I’m probably forgetting about basically everyone, I literally had to go through these by letters because I can never remember anything when I should make a list and I still feel bad for not including _everyone. But I decided to include only those who I have interacted with at least a little bit - I literally don’t dare to speak to anyone unless they tell me first that I am allowed to approach them. I also did not tag anyone who I haven’t seen doing these tag games or who I don’t know if they like these or not. And all of you can also just skip this if this is not your cup of tea.

***

I can never write anything short (surprise...) so I’ll just give you a short list here and you can click the read more link and see more of my thoughs on each topic there.

I am a teetotaler and I have never even tried alcohol. I also don’t and have never smoked and I stay the f* away from drugs, too.

I love cats. Like, for real, they’re the best thing in this whole world.

I love all animals overall, and I am actually a horse groom, I have a the “Vocational Qualification in Horse Care and Management”, specializing in harness racing, and I have worked with horses for over 10 years so far.

As a kid, I was a huge dinosaur nerd and I still love them.

I love comics and I have also drawn comics since I was a kid. I still have all of my old comics saved. Lately I haven’t been drawing even nearly as much and only fanart, tho. Drawing is fun but I simultaneously love and hate it.

Lol it seems I have love for everything but humans :D:D:D:D:D:D I didn’t even realize that before making this list looooooooool XD But yeah, more rambling under the cut :D But thanks for reading, if you end up reading it.

1. I am a teetotaler and I have never even tried alcohol. I also don’t smoke (and never have) and I avoid drugs - so much so that I don’t know if getting ADHD medication would break this “rule” of mine because they are made from the same stuff as one well-known drug...

I think it started as me just being so “lawful” all the time and the legal drinking age in Finland is 18, so I wanted to follow the rules at all times so I didn’t even think about drinking before the age of 18 and I was often very much shocked by other teens who did that, and I also remember being really worried when my best friend started experimenting with alcohol as a teenager. Despite the legal drinking age being 18, basically everyone here still started (and starts?) drinking between the ages of 13 and 15. So at school, from Monday to Wednesday, all that happened was overhearing the drunk stories of other kids. And from Wednesday to Friday, it changed to them discussing their plans for the next weekend. It was like this every week. And I never could wrap my head around it (I spent my weekends at home being happy that I could have free time and play The Sims 2 or something).

Then at some point I guess I just felt like I don’t even need alcohol for having fun and I still haven’t felt like that, and I don’t think I ever will either. When I turned 18, I was super annoyed by everyone because EVERYONE asked me “So you’re turning 18, did you plan on going to a bar?” and I would always answer something like “I don’t even drink (alcohol) so why would I?” and what still annoys me a little is people telling me “That’s good. That’s a good decision, drinking is bad.” and like... if you really think so, why do you drink yourself, then?

2. I love cats. Maybe that is partially visible from my blog too but I really, really love cats, and for decades my favorite animal has been tiger. When I was born, we had already 3 cats in the house and the last one of them died when I was almost 13 (he would have turned 16 that year). Before I moved out at the age of 23, there was not a single day without cats and currently my parents have 4 (plus a dog). I am still dreaming of my own cat but I can’t take one now because animals are not allowed in my flat but whenever I move out of this, I will choose one with pets allowed and I will adopt a cat. Most likely a rescue cat if I can find one, or even two so they can keep each other company. As cute as kittens are, adult cats are also important and need homes.

3. I also love animals overall. I actually like them more than humans (but technically humans are just apes so they’re my least favorite animal, then) and when I was 7-years-old, whenever I was asked about my dream job, I always said or wrote “I don’t know, probably something to do with animals!” And since my teens I have had lots of different ideas for jobs but when I was 25, I graduated as a horse groom. And have been (on-off) working with horses for over 10 years now (currently unemployed). Originally I chose the horse work because I was so pissed by the capitalist system and the thought of an office job or job at a grocery store and such was just... ew, no, never! So I chose horses because if I have to work, then I will do something useful and someone’s gotta take care of the animals too and I love animals, and animal work doesn’t feel like work but more like a lifestyle, so I’ve been basically fooling the system AND myself by that. Sometimes I also dream of the work as a zookeeper.

4. As a kid, I was a huge dinosaur nerd and I still love them (Land Before Time FTW). With my siblings we had a huge collection of dinosaur toys and I also have always loved evolution and genetics, so what we did was to give an individual name for every dinosaur we had. And we knew the species of each of them, and we knew so many facts about them too. Each dino also had their own personality and we even created family trees for them. There were generations of these dinos and we also created this “growing up order” which meant we put them all standing next to each other, usually under my brother’s bed because we had so many of them and they didn’t fit anywhere else lol, from the youngest/smallest to the oldest. And our biggest mission, that never got finished, was “The Big Play” which was us playing that the ancestor parents aka the oldest and biggest of our toys were born and we would play with them and play how they grow older and eventually start having their own kids - who were the next generation in our “growing up order” :D

No wonder why I still love playing The Sims games, especially TS3! (I even have a Finnish simsblog.) Lots of the things I have done and loved as a kid still live so strong in me, they just come out differently than what they did then. Imagination and toys changed to video games, especially The Sims (but I did play video games a lot as a kid too) and my love for genetics and evolution is still really strong.

5. I love comics. My favorite comic book character of all times is Garfield - he’s a cat and I grew up with cats so obviously I fell in love with the Garfield comics too, and I grew up with them as well. My mom subscribed to the Finnish Garfield comic in the early 90s and I have full volumes starting from the year 1994. I also have lots and lots of earlier comics and I always hunt for them from second-hand shops and I don’t have too many of them missing anymore, and I’m really proud of my collection. I also collect Lucky Luke, Rantanplan and Asterix - I have almost all of the (Finnish publications of) Lucky Lukes and Rantanplan.

I have also always loved drawing and I drew my first actual comic when I was 9 or 10 years old. Before that I had been drawing lots of “image series”, one image per paper. I still have all my old comics here in a drawer and I have had so many different characters and majority of them have had endless “plots” aka no plots whatsoever :D Before I actually never drew humans, I started drawing human portraits as fanart when I was 16 and the first human comic characters I drew (also as a fanart) when I was 18 or so. Before that everything was animals of some sort - I have had ants, flies, dogs, cats, birds... even ghosts at some point, and I also created one very simple anthropomorphic creature just so that it was easy to draw and I could concentrate on drawing clothes and hair. Oh my god I loved drawing hairdos to these, and so often I had one female “main character” and I gave her a “growth spurt” where I just drew her in different ages until she was “adult” and I continued telling about her life as an “adult”. Very often these differen phases were literally phases, there were soooooo many different styles each just for one year :D Then at some point I started coming up with actual ideas and plots instead of just drawing whatever I felt like drawing. I still draw comics nowadays, but those are mainly fanart and I haven’t drawn about OC’s in years and currently I have no active ones (except for the “self-comics” about my deep thoughts etc.) and I don’t know how to create new ones, I just have no creativity unless it’s provoked by a fandom thing or when I get a base like The Sims 3 where I don’t have an empty canvas but am given the tools for creating something new.

It might be fun to share some of my old comics here one day but this blog isn’t really an “art blog”, even tho I post some of my drawings occassionally. But let me know if you’d like to see some and maybe I will make a post about that in the future.

[attacked-by-visuals-since-071813]

Bully Problems and Dark Arts Part 1 (BTS Hogwarts AU)

193. “If you walk out that door, you’re no longer one of us. You’ll be one of them and that means I’ll treat you like one of them.” 

Warnings: Hard Angst (Eventually), Smut (Eventually), Dark, Violence, Dark Aftermath of the War

Word Count: 2,636

“Let’s see....bravery....so much more cunning.....and loyalty...but above all that is your intelligence and craving for knowledge... let it be Ravenclaw!”

10 years after the fall of the Dark Lord Voldemort, the Wizarding World has since begun the process to rebuild and become more inclusive to the parts of its community that had been neglected due to the last 20 years. Now there is more magic. The light won the war against the dark, but in doing so, gave way for greater magic. More natural and powerful and overall grey. But all things can turn dark and all light can dim. The war left more than the British Ministry in shambles, several branches of government around the world collapsed as Dark Lord Voldemort had recruited and killed leaders mercilessly. Nearly a million children born just before Dark Lord Voldemorts rebirth, during the war, and just before the final battle were displaced and orphaned.

The first thing I noticed about Hogwarts was the grandness of the castle. I could feel its magic miles away on the Hogwarts express. After the fall of the Dark Lord that was Voldemort, magic tried to balance again and failed due to the blinding light that won the war. So, she blessed the recent and future born witches and wizards with ancient magic that had either died out or been dying out. There have been 3 Dark Lords within the past 200 years and the lull of the dark turned the eyes of most of the Wizarding community from other forms of magic and practices. Ministries labeled Grey magic and practices as Dark out of fear. There has been a surplus of magical born from the muggle world and the wizarding community. A big BOOM you could say. Several years after the Battle at Hogwarts, Minister Shaklebolt along with Hermione Granger found evidence that muggle-born witches and wizards were all descendants of Purebloods and that Squids indeed carry an affinity for magic but cannot possess it, so their children are born with magic. 

There were so many orphans from the war that the Ministry had trouble placing children and babies with the next closest of kin. I am an orphan of war. Born in 1998, my parents took me to hide in the muggle world but were killed when we were found. Like many others, they refused to join the Dark Lord and became one of the many parents and young couples made an example of. With so many children displaced, finding family was a long effort and the Ministry was in shambles at the time. They grouped us, orphans, together until any family came forward or they could perform an identification spell. With all of the unconfirmed casualties and missing witches and wizards, many orphans were left in our makeshift communities. Since it was hard to find my next of kin, I stayed in one of these communities. My name is Y/N and I am a Ravenclaw.

My first year started out fine. All of us first years were nervous. Dubbed the new generation to officially mark the 11th anniversary since the fall of one the most notorious Dark Lords, we were given much-unwanted attention. Much like the children of the Golden Trio. Rose and Tulip Granger-Krum, Hermione Granger and Viktor Krum’s twin daughters. Hugo Weasley, Ron Weasley and Romilda Vane’s son. Lily Luna Potter, Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood’s daughter. Our magic is more raw and different from those who fought the war. The wizarding community had to add classes and curriculum for arts and practices not taught to students in centuries. Thankfully, the studies were actually accurate given that these arts were well documented, just not practiced without a real affinity for it. Outside of the basic Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Arithmancy:

Healing Magic and Incantations

Natural Magic or Elemental Magic

Illusion Magic

Psychic Magic and Dream Magic

Necromancy

Runes and Blood Magic or Conjuring

Obscured Magic or Emotion Magic

Chemical Magic or Potions

Dark Arts or Alchemy and Matter

Rituals and Dance Rituals

Hymns

Everyone wanted to meet the descendants of the Golden Trio. The train ride was full of students trying to get inside the compartment the children shared. Thankfully, they had me and my dear friends Jungkook and Taehyung already inside when they burst into our compartment to wave goodbye to their parents. The three of us simply sitting and watching the joy and fear on their faces at leaving their parents for several months. When we cleared out of Platform 12 3/4, they finally saw that they had entered an already occupied compartment.

“Hello,” Jungkook, Taehyung, and I said.

We were greeted with nods and they introduced themselves to us, the twins first,

“Hello, we are Rose and Tulip Granger-Krum.”

“Hi...I’m Hugo Weasley....”

“Lovely meeting you all, I’m Lily, Lily Luna Potter,“ a nearly serene smile on her face.

“Nice to make your acquaintance. This is Jungkook, Taehyung, and I am Y/N.”

Confusion clouded the twins' eyes for a moment before they realized why I did not include any last names. 

“Oh....”

Taehyung spoke up at their sudden mood drop,

“No need to be sad. We’re all friends. yes, we are among the majority of the orphans attending Hogwarts this year and making friends would be nice.”

Jungkook piped up then,

“Yeah, most of us on the train already know each other. We are mostly from the same community, so we usually don’t have to make many introductions to new people.”

The four descendants smiled at us and sat adjacent to us. After the compartment being bombarded three times after they were sighted by passing students, I locked the door and drew the blinds wandlessly. Not giving any thought that these four probably haven’t had many interactions with the more powerful of our generation until I saw the slightly shocked looks on their faces. Taehyung and Jungkook were already used to it.

“Sorry, I forgot that....”

Hugo shook his head,

“No, it’s fine, honestly. Our parents explained to us that-”

“That many of the students that would be attending and are attending Hogwarts were more powerful and gifted than any of the past 6 generations.” 

Lily Luna Potter interrupted her friend and gave him a pointed gazed that made Hugo look down in embarrassment. She then continued,

“Hugo has a way with words. A way of accidentally insulting others.”

I smiled at her explanation,

“Some of the other kids in our community are like that. Except, they have a way of being socially inappropriate. One guy, he talks in innuendos accidentally because his affinity is for Hymns and Song Magic.”

The rest of the ride was peaceful and the sorting had the Granger-Krum twins and Potter join me at Ravenclaw. All us orphans were sorted first. It was awfully awkward when several students would step towards the stool when their first names were called. Thankfully, I was the only Y/N.

It was my second year at Hogwarts that things changed and I only had my friends, Lily, Rose, and Tulip. It was my friends from my community that changed. Most of us having not been claimed and growing up together, we were family. But then...after being sorted and passing through our first year with Exceeding Expectations and Outstandings....families started coming forward. Apparently now ready to claim their lost child, sibling, grandchild, cousin, niece, or nephew. Our big community was shattered into pieces. These pieces contained small groups now, of 3 or 4 students. But there were a few that remained larger. Several groups contained 5 or more. Despite being in different houses, they remained close. The groups were gendered and everyone was now within only 1 to 4 years within the age of each other. Funny enough, no one separated based on powers or blood status, we remained mixed in that notion. It was a nightmare however, pranks started and the pranks turned into prank wars. I don’t know how it could have happened. Everyone who was one so close refused to acknowledge each other in halls. Referring to each other by last names now that they officially knew what they were. 

Not everyone was at each other's throats though. But they all still pranked nonetheless. Bangtan Boys are the prime example of that. Sometimes intermingling with EXO or GOT7, but a majority of the time, they kept to their own close group. Kim Seokjin- Ravenclaw.... is the oldest, kept their pranks from starting all-out wars with Healing Magic. Min Yoongi- Slytherin..... is the second oldest and the calmest looking, but he has a tendency towards darkness with Runes, Blood Magic, and Incantations. Jung Hoseok- Hufflepuff..... next being the brightest of the group, has an affinity for Natural Magic. Kim Namjoon- Ravenclaw..... is by far the most level headed, the balance of light and dark with Incantations and Conjuring. Park Jimin- Hufflepuff....flirts and likes to dance with the darkness but is light, with Dream Magic and Illusion Magic. Kim Taehyung- Slytherin.... is the lightest grey of magic I have ever seen, with Elemental Magic, Healing Magic, and Obscured Magic. Lastly, there is Jeon Jungkook- Gryffindor, he was my best friend and my big brother, he has Natural Magic, Incantations, and Potions. All were from my community but we might as well be strangers now.

It was also this year that many of the non-orphaned students began to display their affinities. Lily’s was Dance Rituals and Incantations. Tulip began displaying an affinity for Dance Rituals, Healings, and Chemical Magic. Rose showed signs of Matter Magic and Potions, but she had a clear affinity for Dance Rituals.

My third year at Hogwarts started with an awkward confrontation on the Hogwarts Express while Lily, Tulip, and Rose were visiting other compartments to find Hugo. I was on my own in the compartment when a group of four girls came into and huddled around me.

“Listen Y/N. You are one of the few from a community in our year that hasn’t chosen a group yet. We can’t accept this. We are offering you a chance to join us. I know we weren’t the closest in the community but we were always nice to each other then.”

“She’s right Y/N. We are stronger in numbers. Loners get picked on easily and you don’t want a target on your back.”

“We want to look out for you. Especially since the Bangtan Boys have nothing to do with any girls since they formed.”

“You were just a pet to them Y/N. But it’s girl versus guys now. You don’t want to be one of the few girls getting snagged and dropped like the rumors we’ve heard.”

I could only laugh as I looked at these weak girls. Two Healing Magic, a Dream Magic, and an Incantation. They may mince their words and play at being the hero they feel I need. But they know better.....They know much better...

“You think you can help me? That I need your help?”

The room was suddenly icy, but it did not bother me. They all turned from warm and falsely pleasant to growling annoyance.

“Y/N you need to choose us. Who else is going to take you?”

“Bangtan Boys? Oh please, they are boys. What use would you be to them except for another toy?”

“The way I hear it, Karen, all her other friends who left her were their toys too.”

“No-no Rebecca, they only wanted to get close to the guys for their powers. Those boys are among the strongest of us.”

“All of you shush. As if Y/N wouldn’t accept our offer. No one has made one to you before right? We are the firsts and the only ones interested in your barely existing ass. So, why don’t you show some respect and say thank you for letting you join us?”

The icy cold became very bitter and the girls were suddenly shivering. My emotions got the better of my mind. I let them seep out to give a warning through the temperature in the room. Would harming these selfish bullies be worth it? Would it be worth the questioning? 

I arouse from my thoughts to the sensation of a stinging on my face. Karen was it, had taken advantage of my momentary lapse in thought and actually slapped me. Fucking Karen. Abruptly I stood and they jumped slightly but tried to maintain their illusion of dominance over me.

“And just what are you going to do?”

“You’re a weakling.”

“You excel in classes but you perform each spell and incantation so basically.“

“Is there anything special about you at all?”

“I doubt it, Cameron. Look at her. Thick, round face and eyes. Doey-eyed. Innocent little orphan baby with no relatives to claim her.”

“More like, no one would want to come forward to claim her. The only people who would ever want her are already de-”

Physically, my magic threw Cameron into the window of the train. A small crack and indention in the glass from where her body hit it. Instantly, Karen went to her side and pulled her up. Through this distraction, I began to make my way to my compartment door when Shelly screamed at me,

  “If you walk out that door, you’re no longer one of us. You’ll be one of them and that means I’ll treat you like one of them.”

A switch flipped and looking directly out of my compartment window I could see his worried eyes. Those eyes that refused to look my way since last year and all I could do is smile in that way that always scared him when we were growing up in the community. Sending a wink his way, I flicked two fingers and the shades to the compartment were drawn. Turning, I faced the girls with this smile and all illusions of grandeur were gone from their faces and eyes. My magic: Obscured, Natural/Elemental, Conjuring, Chemical, and Dream. I am a dark gray that borders dark and sometimes, the dark likes to snuff out the little grey there is in me. As Rebecca, Shelly, Cameron, and fucking Karen were about to learn. Yes, it is worth it.

At the sorting feast of my third year, I felt seven pairs of eyes on me. He told Bangtan. Of course, he did and now they’ll be watching me again. But it’s not like they care. It’s because of their fear. Kim Seokjin was sitting only several seats away from me. Observing. Min Yoongi was watching me from his seat at the Slytherin table, waiting to strike if needed it seemed. The others were merely glancing at me throughout the meal. 

It was the following morning that I became the talk of the Great Hall. Three black Ravens, carrying several house sigils, approached the Ravenclaw table and landed in front of me. Lily looked at me with sorrow and Rose and Tulip with curiosity. The three sigils in front of me were from The Most Ancient and Noble House of Ravenclaw, The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, and The Most Ancient House of Lestrange. 

[writingthegoodwrite]

The Reconnect ( Part 3)

Namjoon x Reader

Life socked me in the jaw but I’m back! Hope you all enjoy!

Enjoy! ♡ Part 1 Part 2 

It’s been nearly four years since the signal went out. In a world that had been becoming increasingly more connected, when the connection failed everything fell apart. Two weeks ago you arrived with your son at a gated campground that was now home to many survivors. You find yourself reconnected with someone you hoped, yet never imagined you would ever see again, and if the camp doesn’t find it beneficial to keep and support the two of you, you would be sent back on your way.

Knowing this would be a lot more to process and the night had already been intense for him you just gave him a sheepish smile, “Yes, he is.”

You waited for him to say something further, but he looked like his mind was racing to catch up. “Jun is our son. Take your time wrapping your brain around it, I'm gonna step outside and get some air, if you have any questions.”

You backed out of the tent before he had time to respond. Your face felt so warm and the chill of the night air was welcome as it cooled your cheeks.

You sat on the top of the picnic table just a few feet from the tent and were so lost in your own attempts to clear your head that you nearly jumped out of your skin when Namjoon stepped up and sat down next to you.

Your heart started to race and you couldn’t get your breathing in order to calm it down. Suddenly, you couldn’t get the thought out of your mind that they wouldn’t keep you here and you were going to lose him all over again. Jun would lose his father before he even knew he found him. You locked eyes with him, at a total loss for words, and felt your composure just slip away.

Namjoon turned silently toward you and wrapped you in his arms. He just held you and waited for your breathing to steady itself.

You listened to his heart and hoped that this wasn’t the last time he held you. What would you do if they told you to leave? Could you ask him to leave when what he did was so important here? Could you leave and not know if and when you would ever be able to see each other again? Could you just take your son with you and keep them apart? Does he even want his son?

Then everything clicked. You knew what you had to do. If he wanted a connection with his son, you would leave and let Jun stay with his father. It was safe here, and you couldn’t put your son’s life at risk by staying on the road any longer.

You were starting to know safe places around the city from your supply runs. You could survive nearby, and keep bringing supplies over and leave letters for them. Maybe hope that you could be allowed to see them on occasion.

You hoped that it wouldn’t be an issue, that you would be allowed to stay on, but you would talk to Namjoon tonight, and then prepare yourself for the worst.

He continued to hold you once you calmed down. He rubbed your back and asked, “You OK?”

You laughed and leaned back to meet his gaze, wiping your face. “Are you??” You took one of his hands in yours, seeing that he looked as rough as you’re certain you did. “One hell of an evening, wasn't it?”

He tilted his face up to the night sky for a few seconds and took a deep breath before leaning forward and giving you an exhausted, but not unhappy smile. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world,” he said, squeezing your hand. He pulled you back up against his side with the hand you held, and wrapped the other around your back. “That's how you were able to get here, isn’t it? You were back in Seoul before everything went dark?”

You sniffed and nodded. “I was with my sister almost two months when I realized I was pregnant.” You leaned into the warmth of his side, and drew strength from him to continue. “I think it actually helped her to get her back to a place where she could begin to move on. She wasn’t spending all of her time avoiding the world anymore. The morning I went to confirm the pregnancy with a doctor, she bought me a one-way ticket back.”

You struggled to hold it together as you thought of your family, wondering if you would ever see them again. If they were alive…

“You’re worried about them,” he said, voice filled with understanding.

His voice startled you out of your daze. “I have to believe they're safe. I can’t entertain any other thought.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple before be leaned his forehead there. “How was…I mean did you…” he had so many questions, yet he struggled to put one together. His voice shook when he finally said, “Was it a difficult pregnancy? How did you manage it when things were so fucked up? How is it you made it all the way here?”

You drew in a ragged breath and tried to gather your thoughts. “I was staying at a hotel just up from the airport when it happened. I had tried to call you to let you know I was back in Korea and that we'd talk when you finished that leg of the tour. It kept going to voicemail, which I thought it might since you all kept your phones off on concert days.”

You looked up and he nodded for you to continue. “Then everything happened before I was able to contact you. There was confusion everywhere for a few days, then after a week or so things started getting violent. People started banding together, and fighting to get what they needed to survive.” You gave a sad smile, “Well, you know what it was like.”

Namjoon’s eyes glistened with tears. “I do, but I wasn't pregnant, I can't even begin to know what that was like for you. Were you alone when you gave birth?" Tears silently slipped from the corners from his eyes as he spoke. “You're the strongest person, I've ever known. It’s a miracle we found each other again.”

Before you could voice agreement you were both interrupted by one of the women in charge of the campground. She was jogging across the street, as she called out to you both. “Hey! Mr. Kim, I see you've met Y/n!”

She walked up and placed a hand on his shoulder and looked cautiously at us. She looked like deer caught in the headlights. “It's so nice of you to comfort her, it has been a long journey for her to make it here. You've met her son of course, his name is Jun!” She tried to look bright and friendly, but she looked unnerved.

You could tell she must have feelings for Namjoon. Not that you could blame her, he was one of the best people you had ever known.

“Our son,” he said all dimples. “Soo Ah, this is the woman I have been telling you about. I never expected to see her again, but fate must have brought us back together.” He turned his smile on me and he remained oblivious to the look of shock now covering her face. “Can you believe it? We're reunited, and I have a son!”

Soo Ah pulled her hand back as though she touched a flame. Her eyes darted around as she pulled herself together. Then, suddenly she was calm and had a smile that was not only incredibly forced, but it was also too wide and akin to something out of a horror movie. She clasped her hands together in front of her heart and said, “Well, that is wonderful news!” She nodded slowly and started to back away, “I'll let you get back to your reunion. It's just so wonderful. Really. I'll see you both at the decision meeting on Friday.”

Namjoon seemed not to notice how weird things were, but you didn’t trust her. Not for a second.

“We're running low on work and so we sadly won’t be able to keep on everyone this time. But nothing to worry yourselves about. Everything will work out just as it is meant to.” She turned her eyes on you and your blood ran cold. “Nothing can get in the way of fate, after all. Enjoy the rest of your evening,” she said before she turned and jogged back off toward the main house.

You looked over and gave Namjoon a worried look. “Should I be worried? Do you think that I could get turned away?”

He shook his head confidently. “We’ve needed a doctor for a while now. Plus, now she knows about us.” His smile eased your anxiety. “She knows how much I love you, and I don't think she would ever separate our family.”

You felt as though you could fly. His words warmed your heart, and temporarily allowed you to forget Soo Ah. “You love me?”

He took your face between his palms and the world fell away. “I have loved you every single second of every day since you told me that if I broke one more pair of sunglasses you would remove my eyes, and thus my need for them.”

You chuckled at the memory. “Well, you went through 3 pairs in 2 weeks and I didn’t trust them to get the ones that you liked, and you roughhouse like a child, so I had to keep-"

Namjoon pressed his lips to yours, cutting off your tirade. Your eyes fluttered shut and your arms crept up around his neck.

He trailed his hands down your sides and wrapped his arms tightly around you. The last time you kissed him it was full of passion, but it was rushed, knowing you were on a time limit.

Now, you had the rest of your lives to spend with each other, so you took your time. His kisses were soft and slow. When he tilted his head and deepened the kiss, you ran your tongue slowly across his and you felt his breath hitch.

A dog barked in the distance and it broke through and all at once you remembered that you were outside, in full view of anyone that might be out, and just a few feet away from where your son lay asleep in the tent.

You ended the kiss and gazed up into the eyes you could spend a lifetime lost in. You were both short of breath, and unwilling to break contact.

Namjoon was the first to speak, “I should let you get some sleep.”

You nodded, “Yeah, sleep. It's been a long day.” Your tried to focus but couldn’t bring your self to look away from his lips. He tucked some loose strands of hair behind your ear and your lips found his again. His hands tightened on your waist and it took every ounce of willpower you had to lean back from him. “You're right, we should sleep.”

“Y/n?” he asked, looking towards the tent. “When do we tell Jun? How do we tell him?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he already knew, or if he figures it out fast.” He looked confused so you continued, “He's been looking at pictures of you his whole life. I've told him about you from day one. He’s been talking about finding you, ever since he could talk.”

Namjoon gave you a proud look, “You've done such a good job with him, he speaks better than most kids his age. He forms sentences that are usually too complex for a three year old.”

“Well, we have had a lot of time to do nothing but talk, I've always kept a couple books with us to read to him, and trading for new ones when we could. He loves stories.” You grinned up at Namjoon, “he also loves telling stories. He's pretty good, too.”

He looked every bit the proud father. “I've noticed. He really loves to talk. Since the first day he was brought to class he tries to help the older kids that are struggling.” His chin trembled as he tried to reign in his emotions. He placed a warm hand over your abdomen and you could feel the tremor in his touch. “Thank you for keeping him safe…for keeping you safe. More than anything, I wish that I could have been there to support you. To protect you both. To hold you when you were scared and be there when you gave birth…”

You pressed a finger over his trembling lips. “I'm here now. Don't worry about the past, and anyway, you did protect me, you know.”

He released a shaky laugh, “How did I do that?”

You pressed your free hand over his hand and squeezed his fingers lightly. “You gave me Jun. If I hadn’t been pregnant I would have still been with my sister when everything happened.” You knew now, that everything, even that last night with him had happened just as it had for a reason. “I wouldn’t have had the strength to survive. Joon, you saved my life by giving me our son. So it doesn’t matter how difficult it was. If I didn’t have him, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

You could see both the heartbreak at not having been there for you, and the healing at your reunion pass across his face. “I'm afraid to go to sleep.”

Instantly worried, you reached your hand up to gently feel at the back of his head, “Is it your head? Are you in pain?”

He took your hands and pressed them to his chest. “I'm afraid to go to sleep and wake up to find that this was all a dream. I can’t tell you how often I dream that you manage to find your way back home.”

You shook your head and lifted a hand to his cheek. “I'm home. This is real. Wherever you are, I am home.”

His brows drew together. “We never even had our first date, and now we're parents. You're going to have to be patient with me while I learn to be a father. I don’t know if I will be any good at it, but Y/n, I want it more than my next breath.”

“How do you think I learned to be a mother? I just love him fiercely and know that I would do anything to make sure he is safe and happy. And hey, despite my inexperience, he turned out to be a pretty cool kid, don’t you think?”

“Maybe I'm biased already, but he is the best. The absolute best kid I've ever met. And hey, you weren’t inexperienced, you had plenty of practice taking care of me and the guys. We were all basically giant children."

You nodded, “You're right, you had me in training for this from day one.” You winked and made a goofy face, drawing another precious smile from the man who held your heart and nodded towards the tent. “Now, how about we go spend our first night together as a family.”

He led you over to the tent and leaned his forehead to yours and whispered, “Thank you for bringing hope home.”