#and The Good Of My Health is like wow you just ruined everything you messed up their plans

[mettywiththenotes]

I've seen people talk about how they love canceling plans but I don't get that. I hate canceling plans because then I feel so bad. Like aww I couldn't come and now I've made them feel disappointed and I've ruined the night I hope they don't hate me :(

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

Please review anon's warnings before continuing.

note: I am not a mental health professional. I'm not aware of every aspect of your life. I may say something that isn't applicable in your situation. And, finally, reminder that I too am a human being with a past. Be respectful and mindful of that.

tw: su*c*de, sh, bad body image

-

hi wiyllt

im tired. exhausted. drained. i feel crazy and obsessive. i got my academic results a few days ago and wow i havent cried like that in forever. in forEVER. i bawled, lowkey wailed about them. the worst part is theyre objectively really fucking good marks. 96% is not a joke. i am just so disappointed in myself for them. worst part is school's plastered the toppers faces up LITERALLY every corridor, completely forgetting the fact that there was a student who committed su*c*de just two weeks ago, after failing their exams.

ive been so depressed its affecting everything. i feel everything in every way possible. i feel doomed with my friendships, with my relationship, my future, everything. i hate myself like this. last month i got back into my sh habit and everythings going downhill so fast. i want to feel okay again. bad body image has been plaguing my mind and ive been binging on food since last month. ive been crying so much and been just such a mess in school and at home. i am so fuckign depressed i dont even know at this point.

did i mention i havent gotten my period in twenty fucking days.

I'm going to address this bottom to top.

Your period is affected by many things, both physical and mental health. My period is always late when I'm stressed. When I was at the height of my depression, my period came about every 40 days. I thought I was lucky. No. I was fucked up. Your body pours its finite resources for what it perceives as a threat first before going back to its usual routine programming. Sometimes your cycle jumps even when you're perfectly healthy. In nature, there will be outliers and that applies to ovulation too. Just happens. Track your cycle and see a gynecologist if there is a pattern.

To break your self-harm habit, you must remove your tools from your presence. They must be thrown away or difficult to get to. The first step to breaking a habit is making it not easy to do. The second is redirection, preferably to a healthier place such as creation. But I'm not an idiot and I know it is human to simply just pick a differemt self-destructive habit. Believe me, there are many ways to hurt yourself and ruin your life. You must draw a line at this. Do not cross it. Every time you want to do it, write down every reason you want to do it. Burn, rip, mangle the paper. Destroy it until it's unreadable. Keep writing. You better have millions of reasons and none of them will ever justify you doing something like that to yourself. None. Remember this next time and every time you want to do it thereafter.

Yeah, I'm telling you to give up. This, specifically.

Yes, you will still make bad decisions. Yes, life is still gonna suck ass. Yes, you will treat yourself like shit in other ways.

I did.

I don't know anyone who can just stop being depressed. You won't suddenly become a born-again human unaffected by their past (idk, maybe you're an alien, not sure how their biology works, I'll do some probing and report back). Even now I catch myself in moments where I slip back into old habits and thought processes.

You are responsible for yourself. You are responsibile for the bad choices you have made and will make. I know that is not fun. That is not what we want to do. Hell, I have no idea if a certified therapist / psychologist / psychiatrist will agree with me on this, but I'm gonna give it to you straight - the one who has to deal with the consequences of what you do is you.

I spent a lot of time blaming anything and everything, especially life for dealing me shit cards. I didn't ask to be born. I didn't ask for two decades of emotional and physical abuse. But I did what I did. I did fucked up shit. Things will fall apart. You will cry and bleed trying to put it all back together and it might be in vain. You will wonder, when does it get better?

It gets better when you take a moment and ask yourself, "What do I want?"

Not, what are the impossible expectations I have for myself right now? Not, what does everyone else want me to be? Not, here's all the things that are wrong with me and reasons I cannot achieve anything of substance or value. Shut those up for a second. You said, "i want to feel okay again." You can't feel how you felt in the past and anyway, by now, you've glamorized it to something better than it was. Plus, "to feel okay" is a bit vague. Also it kinda gives off meh energy (sorry, but it kinda does). You need something specific.

"I want to repair my relationship with (insert here)."

This can be anything. People, food, school, etc, but you need to focus on one thing at a time. You need to prioritize what it is that is most important to you right now. Don't set a bar for where you want to be at a certain time. Only focus on improvement. Some things may fall to the wayside and that's okay. You can't do everything. When you feel like you're in a good place with one thing, move on to something else. Go back and check on it periodically and search for minor improvements.

It sounds nice, but it might not look pretty while you're doing it. Life is life. There will be setbacks. Every situation, aak yourself, "What is the best version of myself I can be right now?" Not what was or will be, but right now. That might be something great or that might be getting into bed and going to sleep. Sometimes it be like that. Do one more thing than you would if you were feeling just a teensy bit better.

"I'm going to bed instead of studying, but I will set up my desk so it's ready for me in the morning."

"I'll eat one less today. I'm still gonna eat it."

"I'm gonna cry right now. I'll do something about it after. But first I'm gonna cry."

Little by little decision, you can more forward to a place you are more satisfied with. There will always be hardships. Always. But you can control how you react to them and how you deal with them. It might feel like you can't but that's because you need to direct your focus on specifics - what you can do rather than what is out of your control. To be the best version of yourself is to actively understand that you will not always make the perfect decision. It gets better. It gets worse. You are a different person each time. You learn from your past. Do the best that you can right now. Prioritize yourself. Live this life as if there is only one.

Time doesn't come back.

Be mindful of the past and the future, but don't forget to live right now. You'll miss important stuff.

[keyheartsia-dorm]

The Dorm Leaders with a S/O who Burned themselves making Microwave Food

(This is definitely not something that just happened to me like 10 minutes ago but you should definitely like and subscribe and don’t forget to hit the Bell icon Cause seriously some parts of my hand Hurt like a B...Not that I burned myself or anything)

Riddle Rosehearts

• So Your feeling a Gosh dang HUNGER

• You’re too hungry to wait For Trey to bake anything So

• So Kennel Corn it is!

• In your HUNGER daze you threw the popcorn in carelessly and forget to Press the Popcorn Button and just pressed the 4 Button instead of the 3 Button like you meant to even though 3 PROBABLY would’ve Ruined Your Popcorn anyway

• You text Riddle to see if he’d wanna Share some Popcorn He said he would bring some Tarts he had just put in the oven So you waited...Thinking about Food...not noticing the disaster you were Setting into place

• Anyway you Open the Microwave Full of Hope like a Doe being born on a beautiful spring day then as soon as the black Popcorn started shooting out of your Microwave in Ramshackle you then had the same disappointment as a spring Doe who was just forced to watch Fox and the Hound Like Holy Heck that Movie gives me the Hecko Deppreso

• One Burning Kernel Hit your Cheek Just as you Wince Riddle Comes into your Kitchen With Wide eyes

• He Drags you out Picnic Basket with Tarts in Hand and Takes you to the Nurse’s Office and Asks for...whatever Burned people Need As He Patches you up you 2 Share a ~Moment~

“Riddle Honestly it’s not THAT big of a deal” You Chuckle Anxiously “Don’t be Ridiculous Y/N!” he keeps Patching you up “It Must Seriously Hurt..” He looks a little Sad and while looking sadly into your eyes he kisses your cheek where the Burn was you wince as He Quickly Spits an Apology you Chuckle “You can Kiss it better if you want~” he Looks away bright Red as you 2 Sit in the Nurse’s Office Sharing Tarts

Leona King Scholar

• “I can’t Hecking Cook!!!” you found yourself Exclaiming in the Savannaclaw Kitchen Ruffling your hair

• You see Poor F-Ing Ruggie Needs a Break that’s not a secret to anyone (# Please Stop Hyena Abuse # Please Edit A Garfield Comic Where Leona is Garfield and Ruggie is John) so you said you’d make Leona his Lunch

• why the Heck you said you’d do this you Adorable stupid Hecking Idiot you but hey you did dumb dumb

• So here you are looking in the Freezer and BINGO Big ole Meat Chunk!

• So you being A fanfic protagonist Put a giant mystery meat chunk in the microwave pressed some Buttons and said..”Eh Good enough” Guess your sex god heart throb Boyfriend Is rubbing off on you ok I see how it is Y/N OK I SEE HOW IT IS

• Anyway besides my needless aggression with my words You started to look for some utensils you found A Bento Box and a Spoon thank goodness but you figured you might Need some mittens Lunch was soon and The meat was long done but no mittens

• You take it out..and HOLY MOTHER GOD WHY DID YOU THINK THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA YOUR PALMS MIGHT AS WELL BE ON FIRE

• Leona Nonchalantly Enters The scene cause Ruggie Told him you’d be making his Lunch and Lunch started like 15 Minutes ago

• He looks at the Scene before him and sighs and takes your hands like the sex god heartthrob he is and looks at your red palms almost Deadpanning

Your face a light red “Yeah...I know I massively Screwed up with your Lunch But I really wanted t-“ “I know And I appreciate it even though you are a massive screw up..But you keep trying I appreciate that about you” He starts to lick your Palms and your face Erupts into a Blush “What the Heck!?!” he looks up at you “It’s to cool your hands down but you ARE gonna go get me Food from the vending machine afterwards”

Azul Ashengrotto

• you slam your Hands Dramaticly on your Kitchen Table “I CANNOT ACCEPT ANYMORE FREEBIES FROM THE MONSTRO LOUNGE” You were sure Azul Would start making you pay if not Azul Jade for sure

• So time to start making Food for yourself!! You Quickly Head to a Convience store where a Certain Chaotic Neutral Eel Notices you Buying like 10 Frozen...PIECES OF FOOD

• You Dump like all off them on your Counter and Choose to make some Weird fish

• You Slap that Sorry Sucker in the Microwave and like the other Sorry Suckers in this Scenario you will Burn yourself and beautiful Bishounen Shenanigans will ensue but we’re not there yet

• You literally just bought a piece of not even normal looking fish Of course it didn’t come with a Time Recommendation So you while staring at it for like 10 minutes (Letting it thaw quite a bit but you didn’t notice) You threw it in for 7 And figured “eh 7’s a lucky number this’ll work” Didn’t you read Leona’s Scenario? What happened when THEY said Eh

• You Dumby You Dating a Merman Boughta Eat a fish Dumbo what do you have? Ears?

• Anyway Floyd and And Azul are Chatting well it’s more like Floyd is talking At Azul while he does paper work Yeah I totally Saw them Buying a bunch a Random Frozen Weird Massively Weird Right? Anyway So Apparently They Let you Mix ALL THE slushie is Flavors”

• Azul hearing this After finishing up some more Paperwork Decides to go Visit You and to his Shock he finds you Trying to hold a Basically at this point Charcoal Fish and when you drop It on your leg Leaving a SEXY weird fish shaped burn he’s Immediately on that

He puts a Hand to his Temple and sighs For a Moment before sweeping you off your feet before you could say a word..the you did say a word a few in fact “I’m Sorry Azul I know you can’t give me freebies forever but I’m a terrible cook” He Kisses your forehead and gives you a reassuring look “You’re my Beloved you can rely on me as much as you want I’ll get you some bandages when we’re back at the monstro lounge and Jade will make you something not made of Charcoal” and you bet he carried you all the way

Kalim Al Asim

• you both wanted to cook Something for Jamil...Okay this’ll go south fast.

• the road to Heck Is often Paved with Good intentions

• You Were tasked with picking out food and Kalim for Kitchen Prep

• Anyway Let’s get this poor Wreck Jamil’s gonna have to fix over with

• “I Picked out some Tofu! Smart people like tofu right?

• Kalim Tossed that And all sortsa Stuff Into the Microwave and Waved off all your concerns figuring it’ll be fine! come on Y/N you coward Your a fanfic Protag you don’t have to think Silly goose no thoughts head empty

• like 15 minutes later you 2 Hear Smoke while trying to make Pulpless Handsqueezed Orange Juice cause HECK PULP

• He Opened The Microwave and the only thing that Looked even Remotely salvageable was the tofu and because you 2 are the cutest most head empty Couple Apparently you didn’t Put a plate underneath so you braving all the danger reached into the Microwave...

“Ouch!” You teared up a little And were about to Put your finger in your mouth as you do Before Kalim put your finger in his Mouth You looked at him shell shocked after a couple seconds he started pressing light kisses on them “I’m so sorry! I should’ve thought this through more! I’ll nurse you back to health!” And For the rest of the day he essentially treated you like you were crippled he carried you he fed you everything don’t worry you slipped away for a little to clean up the mess in the kitchen before Jamil got back Kalim Babysitting is always an Experience to be Had for sure

Vil Schoenheit

• “Vil! I wanna Eat Carbs Heck you!!”

• if that’s not how Every story I do With Vil Starts I’ll be Gosh Danged

• “FINE EAT YOUR MAC AND CHEESE YOU’LL RUE THE DAY-“

• anyway after you stopped listening to him you looked him DEAD in the eyes and Shoved that frozen Mac and Cheese in the Microwave and slammed...Some Numbers In wow what a power move

• He Gasped and Power walked away

• You Laughing Manically Triumphantly

• But after awhile you felt kinda bad and decided to make some Carb free food for Vil as an Apology for Deliberatly and spitefully trying to make him Mad

• But that was the final nail in your microwaved coffin When you took out your Luckily not entirely burned Mac and Cheesies it was real hot like

• You were trying To get it to a plate Quickly And Spilled some on your Wrist Luckily Your Sexy mean Boyfriend was Here To save the day and wow he’s holding something”

“Sweet Potato?” He peeked through the Door and saw you Holding your Wrists in Pain he immediately walked in And Held them tenderly “I’m Sorry Sweet Potato things got heated I did get you a..Low Carb Meal at Olive Garden I Hope this Makes things up to you I know I can’t Control your life it’s just kinda my nature” You Smiled at him through the pain “It’s Fine Vil I got WAY too Mad I’m sorry I made you a salad” you both Enjoyed your food him feeding you yours then later he put some lotion on your Wrists

YES ITS BEST BOY-

Idia Shroud

• Omg it’s the best boy 🥺

• I mean I am not Partial to any character Do not worry I do not want to be in a Poly relationship with both Malleus and Idia

• So you wanted To Hang Out with your Boyfriend today he said sure but that he would be Busy doing raids with his Online friends you agreed and even said you’d bring snacks which you did

• Including Instant Ramen! My-I mean YOUR favorite

• you decided to show how reliable in the Kitchen you are to your boyfriend by making such a Delicacy for him while he doesn’t have the time to himself at the moment

• This is will work out Well

• You decide to do it in your kitchen and bring to him

• this will work out well

• You..ACTUALLY MAKE IT PERFECTLY

• You also Make it mostly towards his room before divine intervention Intervines and says That’s not the point of this fanfic idiot

• It probably mostly worked out for you cause you have the best taste tho so-

• Ortho Hears a Mighty Loud Catwerwhail (here’s hoping I spelled that right) and Comes to check whose outside the door

• “Big Sister/Brother?” He Quickly Runs some Water on your Shoulder and Bandages you Up And Leads you in Idia’s Room With the snacks in tow meanwhile he’s wondering if your Ok or not

“Idia Senpai!” You Sit next to him And he notices your Bandages “What Happened?” You look away a little Blushing a bit “I Spilled hot Instant Ramen on my shoulder Ortho parched me up though but! I brought the rest of the snacks though sor-“ Before you can apologize he Puts his Jacket on your shoulders “No I’m sorry for not noticing I would’ve...Tried to help” His sad expression turns into one of his Competitve smirks “I’ll Finish this Raid Boss so Quicker then you even Burned Yourself!” And He did cause he’s the best Gamer boy then you played Monoply With Him and Ortho cause he’s the best boy you have the best taste RAMEN TASTES SO GOOD-

Malleus Draconia

• My Second Love I mean nothing Let’s finish this I’ve been here since like 4 it’s 7 rn

• You invited Malleus to dinner And you wanted a Good Blanced Dinner!

• Chicken From Panda Express

• McDonald’s Chocolate Milk

• Some Patties from Burger King

• Oh Yeah Veggies!

• Wait! Everything’s Closed now!!! Y/N I KEPT TELLING YOU TO STOP BEING DUM-

• Oh you have some frozen Vegetables? Okay Touché

• You Toss them in the Microwave for 6 Minutes and get ready

• You dress as Nicely as Possible in 10 Minutes cause you plan Things Horribly apparently...not that I relete having been here for like at least 2 hours

• He’s Here~ him being Also the best boy is already setting the table with Magic cause he’s just nice like that and even Enchanted the food to be set on the table and the milk in the Glasses

• But you INSISTED to present The Vegetables

• “Child of Man I really don’t min-“ “No! I got this really!!”

• Let’s see how well that turned out for you

You got the Vegetables Outta the Microwave in such a Haste you didn’t even notice how hot it was and dumped it on the plate it wasn’t horribly burnt but was Horribly Hot Malleus was Amazed though “So Man’s Growing Vegetables in Bags now?..” he Reached to touch but you smacked his hand away so fast your hand touched the food and burned you “Ouch! I’m sorry Mal But it’s really hot” He immediately Understood and Summoned some Magical Water as he do and your burn was gone “I love you Child of man even though us Fae Can’t burn you tried to shield me anyway my sweet gentle Child of man”...Did you know that I ain’t know that?

I have a Masterlist it has all my X reader fics And my Oc Stuff I will be Adding this in like a day or 2 probably now if you’ll excuse me I never Wanna Look at another word again except also I’m literally probably gonna go read fanfic

[ghostiewriter]

Hey, bestie! Not ship/fandom related, so if you dont want to answer it, it s understandable. But i was wondering, how you have been holding up mentally and psychologically with the pandemic so far?

OH HI BESTIE😂okay wow heavy question lol but alas why not overshare to strangers on the internet, am I right? Who better to listen🌚putting a wee read more thingy cause I don’t wanna clog up people’s dashboards ahisshsvdsb

Honestly, I’m glad enough that my family and friends have stayed healthy and well throughout the pandemic and we haven’t lost people like I know many families have suffered. I know some others haven’t been as lucky and honestly it’s heartbreaking to even think about❤️

Uhhh in terms of mentally and physiologically?🤡oh bestie cannot say I have done well in that sense. I went through two of the most important years of my high school education in lockdown and it fucking sucked ass. Nobody was prepared for the shit show Covid brought down on us but god the schools were just shocking and it felt like at times they didn’t mind things slipping even if it was at our expense?

I really struggled with online school and it really fucked my grades over, which kinda sucks when you’re a person who puts all your purpose and worth on academic achievements, ya know? It was just extremely shitty because I had set goals for what I wanted to do after school and the next thing I know I’ve been rejected from all my unis and the exams are cancelled and the school are using shitty class tests to determine our grades? Not exactly a great feeling. And I think my parents just didn’t know how to handle it either and taking a gap year or going to college just made their desi brains go “FAILURE! DISAPPOINTMENT!” cause that’s unfortunately how it usually is in our culture.

But I think the pandemic did make me sit back and be like “oh shit you need to do something about this” and so I did have a moment of venturing into some medical help for my mental health because let’s be real, the pandemic stirred that shit up in the worst way possible. And I got an official diagnosis of anxiety and depression, rather than just anxiety which was what I thought it was💀uhh tried some medications, they were shite but hey ho, so were the GPs so we are kinda just…ignoring that for the time being

I did put a lot of self-worth on the uni and grade situation, and honestly it made me feel so fucking shit about myself. I was dealing with my parents saying things about how I didn’t try properly or saying to my little brother not to be a failure like me. And it sucked big time because I love my parents and I know the extents they went through to put me and my siblings through private education to give us a better chance, and those shit grades made me feel like I wasted their money, ya know? It was just an overall shit experience that made me feel like I didn’t really wanna get out of bed anymore and it honestly made me push away a lot of people because it felt like everything revolved around uni and that shit just made me feel down af, it was hard to be happy for people so I’d rather just distance myself so I didn’t ruin their mood.

However, I think coming back onto tumblr and using it more often and even starting to write and post helped a lot this year. I’ve always loved writing, it’s an escape for me and it was really needed during these times. And I’ve met some wonderful, amazing people through this little app and have a bunch of people I speak to every day on this blog even through anons which is honestly just brilliant, I do love our wee corner of the internet❤️

Even three years on since this mess began, I still have shit days and it still sucks. But I’m human and I’m learning and I’ve made a new life plan that’s a little different from what I had dreamed about since I was 12 but hey, different can be good sometimes and I’m honestly trying to just take it one day at a time :)

[goodlucksnez]

a sky full of stars

Hello everyone so I wrote a er//aserm//ic fiction and it’s 5513 words I know right what the fuck I just kept writing and I didn’t want the story to end but it came to a lovely end

TW WARNING it deals with sui//cide depression,anxiety,panic attacks as well as medical surgery

TO NOTE In the story endeavor is not a hero and is a local tea maker and his wife is the surgeon which I just think it’s cute it comes together in the story it will make sense don’t worry

This is using my original AU with the Quirk flu

And lastly I hope you enjoy it I had a lot of fun riding and it has definitely improved since my last fic enjoy

you can read it on A03 or down below

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33360760

How Shouta got here was anyone's guess. Sitting on the edge of the roof of UA looking at the shifting colors as night began to fall around him. As the shades of reds mixed with the blues and yellows, how they washed over the buildings and trees with a gentle golden glow, Shouta closed his eyes and smiled. The tear-stained face of the Pro was hidden from view under foundation and tired eyes. With the still night air, he heard the roof entrance unlock and movement behind him.

“Hello, old friend,” Shouta said not even turning to look at him.

“What the hell are you thinking, step away from the edge now.” Mic's voice boomed over the concrete and echoed in the tranquil night air. “Please, people need you…. I need you.”

Shouta took a deep breath and stood to face his old friend. Mic’s face was panicked and he could see the crumpled note in his hand. Shouta was glad to see his friend one last time. He shook with adrenaline as he spoke in a quiet voice barely louder than a whisper. Years down the road Shouta in the confession of therapy would say he said it this way because whispers make people listen while shouting just falls upon deaf ears.

“All my life, I have been in love with the sky. Even when everything was falling apart around me, the sky was always there for me. I’m glad to see it hasn’t changed. Goodbye old friend.” And he stepped off the roof Mic’s voice echoed in the night sky as Shouta plummeted down and down until darkness.

---

That was five years ago. Shouta had been getting better about talking about his depression and the struggles but the one thing he could not do was hurt Mic again. Hizashi also died that day, his cheery disposition of the world changed, and he hasn’t been the same since. He had improved but Shouta still had guilt deep down but would never admit it. Hizashi's confidence was always so fragile, like a child’s, it took him years to return to radio and music. He once in a foggy drunken state told Shouta that music died the day he fell and all the sounds of the world that created such unique and beautiful different melodies, fused into one agonizing wave of sound that made Hizashi hate music and his Quirk. He had gotten better they both had recovered from that day but if they were both being honest, they were still those scared little Pros inside.

When winter came the vows of in sickness and in health were tested. Hizashi got sick first and Shouta played the role of nursemaid and helped him get better therefore it was no wonder Shouta got sick. When he was a child Shouta would hide under his bed to avoid being seen as sick, he had enough of name-calling at school he did not need it at home too. This continued into his adult life even after the accident 5 years ago.

The next time he had woken up he almost suffered acute heart failure from the number of stress hormones that were immediately pumped through his system as long-term best friend and husband Hizashi better known as Present Mic had busted through the bedroom door with a shout of “Shouta” with his remarkably deafening voice. “Wow were you sleeping?”

As if it would be a shock that he was. He has been up most of the night coughing and generally feeling ill. Shouta was having trouble getting out of bed today as a dull pain racked through his body pulsing through every limb. He merely grunted in response and the strawberry blonde-haired man sat down and rubbed his back.

“Shouta,” he asked his voice worried with concern and suddenly Shouta was back on that roof. He shut his eyes and winced at that memory and shook his head. The movement of his head caused the room to spin and he reached out to grab onto something stable the only thing near him being his husband.

The pressure in his cranium had built itself up to the point where he knew he had to get away to get checked out. Somehow, he had to take a trip to get medicine, the question was how would he succeed with such a mission when Hizashi worried about his every movement.

Mic continued to rub his husband's back. After receiving no answer, his usual jovial expression continued morphing into one of pure concern. “Hey, Shouta are you okay?”

The tired pro sighed but when he went to open his mouth the tickle which had been prominent in his sinuses flared to life and he quickly turned his head to the side gripping the side of the bed as the sneezes ripped through his body.

“Heh-R'SSHH! Hh-Hih-AET’SCHHH! ESCCH!”

Hizashi jumped in surprise. “Woah, many blesses,” he said. “I’m going to pick you up some meds, okay?”

Shouta grabbed his arm and said, “no you barely over being sick, I can get some.”

As he went to put on his shoes, he sniffed back the congestion that was threatening to flow. Hizashi watched him gathering his wallet and keys before hugging him tightly and whispered in his ear.

“I know how you get with these things; I call you in a few hours and you better pick up or you’re in trouble. I love you Sky.”

Shouta hugged him back and said, “I love you to songbird.” And he left the house with the sound of thunder in the sky boomed over him.

---

His feet hurt.

It was a stupid thing to focus on. Stupid because Shouta was still heavily limping his way through darkened alleyways and shuffling through crumpled up newspapers and puddles of...something. His breath came out in ragged gasps, the medicine still clutched close to the chest. Shouta had no idea where he was going. He just kept moving- one hand drifting along chipped brick walls and graffiti-stained cement, something to keep him steady. Focused. Home was the mission but it wasn’t the goal. The goal was-

Freedom from the pain.

His knees buckled and Shouta couldn’t stop himself from tumbling forward. He smacked into a dumpster; the weak thump of a body against rusted metal ringing in his ears. The stench of rotten food clawed its way into his nose; the pain now liquid fire in his veins. Get up Shouta told himself even as his eyes started to flutter close. You have to get up. His fingers twitched; they landed in a puddle of something gross. “Please,” Shouta whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. “Please~” Thunder rolled off in the distance- a heavy, almost shuffling sound. Maybe- maybe he could get clean in the rain? Maybe-----

“Ah, your awake!”

Fuck! Shouta started, brain a sluggish mess. He- the last thing he remembered with solid clarity was collapsing against a dumpster. Rain pattered against the rooftop- a strange melody that did nothing to put the Pro at ease as he stared at the old man before him. He was heavyset, a long red beard neatly trimmed and a topknot giving him off an old school look. Shouta glanced around the room, just a little more awake now. He still felt like shit, wet from the clothes he had when-

“My shoes,” Shouta rasped, gaze falling to his feet. They were bare, his socks neatly placed on the floor with his shoes beside this...futon. A sad, threadbare thing on the floor. It took all he had not to run his hands over himself-no. No injuries. The only thing Shouta wasn’t wearing was his shoes. Shouta inhaled congestion thick and he wiped his nose on the back of his hand. An oven mitt was sitting on the floor between them, a teapot gently clutched in the old man’s hands. “You put band-aids on my heels?”

“I did,” came the quiet hum. “You’ve traveled quite a way. Those blisters are impressive.”

Shouta’s gaze flicked to the two clay cups- one by his feet, the other next to the old man’s knees. Steam started to curl out of the teapot; a fire Quirk perhaps? “...You’ve got a fire Quirk.”

The old man smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “You’re very observant. Yes, I do. Would you like some tea? I have some delicious Herbal Spring at the moment it might help with that cold you got.”

Shouta eyed the teapot in question- the steam was barely more than a little trickle of a cloud. Could he have poisoned it while I was out? He shrugged, looking away.

“Ah good!” The old man leaned forward to pour tea- Shouta first, then himself. “Herbal Spring is a very fragile tea, you know. Raise the temperature too much and you’ll ruin it. Keep the water too cold, and it loses its flavor.”

Shouta didn’t reach for his cup. He heard the soft clink of China being set down on the oven mitt. He- he saw the near-empty room he was in. “Where am I?”

“My tea shop! Aaah well,” the old man smiled again as he reached for his cup. “Soon to be my tea shop. This is a storeroom of sorts.”

Shouta watched the old man drink first. A happy hum, a deep sip that made the Pro finally reach for his cup. He brought it to his lips, taking a tentative sniff. Even with his blocked nose, it smelled sweet. Shouta took the tiniest of sips; the warm liquid sliding down his parched throat with ease. It had a soft note to it; sweet and almost fruity, enough to make Shouta …breathe. “Who are you?”

“Just a simple tea maker.” Another calm sip, the old man closing his eyes for a moment. “Who are you?”

It...it lacked the same venom that Shouta’s question had. The same cautiousness, an almost feral edge to it. The old man’s question was simple. Calm and steady; Shouta bit the inside of his cheek before he took another tentative sip. “No one.”

“It is an honor to meet you, No One.” The teapot was held out like a porcelain olive branch. “More tea?”

Was this...a joke? Shouta bit the inside of his cheek before he held out his cup. There was still plenty of tea left in the small cup and it took all the Pro had not to wince at how hands were still shaking. Hot liquid sloshing about, threatening to go right over the dull rim. Yet...if the old man was going to say anything, he didn’t. He merely poured Shouta more tea, careful to keep the liquid from the rim.

Shouta brought it up to his lips, taking a bigger sip. “You’re,” this time he winced. His throat was still a raspy mess. “You’re not going to ask me why I was outside?”

“Mmm, you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

Shouta watched the teapot be set gently on the oven mitt, the old teamaker once more quietly enjoying his cup. The two sipped their drinks in relative silence- only broken by the steady drumming of the rain overheard and Shouta sniffling. An odd sort of silence, almost peaceful; Shouta wasn’t bombarded with questions. The old tea maker was content to drink his tea; he’d already downed three cups by the time Shouta had managed to finish one. He sneezed 3 harsh sneezes and drank more tea hoping to soothe the throat. The teapot seemed to rise without being asked; a second cup poured, a second cup that Shouta found himself willingly drinking. “Aizawa,” he whispered, staring down at the amber liquid. The Pro’s voice was painfully loud in the quiet. “My name is Aizawa Shouta.”

The old man gently smiled; callused hands curled around his cup. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Aizawa Shouta.”

“What-” Shouta shifted on his futon; the tremors had finally left his hands. “Who are you?”

“Just an old man with wisdom and regrets,” came the happy reply. “You can call me Enji if you wish.”

Enji? It was a familiar way to address someone he’d just met. Right. “...I’m not calling you Enji.”

“Fair enough,” the old man chuckled and there was something warm in his voice that begged the Pro to relax. Maybe he has another Quirk? Can someone have two Quirks?

Shouta glanced down at his cup, his thumbs brushing the rim. “Why are you doing this?”

“Sharing tea with a fascinating stranger is one of life’s true delights~”

That...was not what Shouta was expecting. He frowned; was it too late to make a run for it? He was pretty sure he had strength in his legs now, even if he still felt awful. “That’s some bullshit,” the dark hair huffed, settling on something solid. Something he could trust. He attempted to rise to his feet and he wobbled for a moment. Pain that rolled through Shouta, begging for him to plop his ass back down. “You’re crazy, old man.”

The old man didn’t move from his spot on the floor. He merely hummed, a red eyebrow rising at the uptick of rain against the roof. “You will need a proper raincoat then. You’ll be soaked if you leave now.”

“...You’re not going to stop me?”

“I cannot stop you from your long journey, Shouta. Just as we cannot stop the fire from burning the log or ice freezing a pond.” Shouta watched the old man set his cup down; empty. “But please,” he groaned as he lumbered to his feet and Shouta was pretty sure he heard joints pop. “Let me get you an umbrella at least.”

His chest hurt. Shouta’s throat was stupidly tight. Painfully tight as he stood there, watching Enji dig around in the storeroom for an umbrella. “...You,” Shouta tried to clear his throat. To stop himself from crying like the idiot he was. “You don’t have-”

He shouldn’t have wasted his breath.

The umbrella was pressed into his hands with care. It was an old thing that had seen better days- a raggedy blue thing with a few frayed strands and a scuffed handle. It was old and worn and the most precious thing Shouta had ever held in his life. “Thank you,” the Pro whispered, clutching it close to his chest.

“Of course,” Enji hummed, bowing in return. “Please stay dry.”

---

Shouta descended the step of the tea shop, his body aching with every step. The medicine still clutched to his chest. The words still echoed in his mind. “You tell me when you’re ready.” He found himself walking the feeling of cool water running down his wet body was quite unpleasant. The wind blustered and the rain pattered on the antique umbrella and the way home seemed twice as long as usual. His mind raced, how could a stranger see so clearly into his mind was it that transparent to everyone that he was broken. As his feet hit the sidewalk a single thought crossed his mind. Hizashi. His songbird. His love. He was probably worried sick. As he pulled out his phone, he saw the screen was broken and as the light lit up his face, he could see 54 unread messages. Fuck. He ran, he didn’t even notice the tightening of his chest and the pain in his limbs, as he rounded the corner almost slipping on the wet pavement. He saw the lightly tan building of his home; the outside light was still on. As he unbolted the door and took a step inside, his heartbeat deafening in his ears, a pair of arms wrapped around his torso and pulled him inside.

As Shouta panted, Hizashi's grip gets getting tighter and tighter. No words were said but the silence spoke volumes. Shouta felt tears spring to his eyes and choked back a sob as Hizashi guided him to the living room sofa and sat him down. Wordlessly Hizashi began to take Shouta's shoes off, gently searching his dark eyes for some kind of answer of where he was. Shouta could not meet his gaze, and just shook from the wet clothes and clutched the sofa tighter. Hizashi nodded and went off down the hall. He returned a moment later with fluffy towels and the first words were spoken.

“Out of those clothes.” Shouta blushed but did as he was told and as each soaked article of clothing was removed from his body it was replaced with a warm fluffy towel. However, it didn’t stop his shivering and Hizashi started rubbing the frozen skin of his lover. After a few minutes, Hizashi suddenly stopped and stood up, turning his back from Shouta.

Suddenly the blond jolted forward. “heh… ehh…. heh'ISSShooo!" and went into the kitchen to grab a box of tissues.

As he sheepishly returned and met the gaze of his husband, he muttered an apology. “Sorry.”

Shouta was at a loss for words. Why was he sorry? It was not his fault Shouta got sick, not his fault he was broken. He had done everything right, Shouta was wrong. He blinked in rapid succession before finding his voice. The voice of Enji filled his head ‘When you’re ready. He spoke with a voice broken and small.

“The day that the rain smelled like ice cream, my cat went to heaven in front of my eyes. The day that the copper pipes in the old building smelled like burnt food, my best friend... went to heaven in front of my eyes. I couldn't save them. It's sad. Neither one had the chance to become an adult. They should have become adults. They should have had children of their own and loved those children. And I want to make that possible for other people. So don’t be sorry. You saved me. I love you.”

He had never expressed that amount of raw emotion in his whole life, not even to his therapist but it felt right. The nerves he felt flowed out of him as his tears decorated his face. As he sat covered in the towel he sobbed, all the emotions he had been holding released like the steam from that teapot that brought him warmth not a few hours before.

Hizashi cradled him, as his body racked with sobs, gently like how a mother would cradle a baby, pausing to kiss him and repeat gentle nothings. As Shouta began to wind down, all the strength he had been pretending he had disappeared and he slumped against Mic and closed his eyes and soon unconsciousness took him.

--

Shouta slept for hours it seemed like. Each dream he had was confusing and odd as if he had two brains competing for the dream. His tired muscles ached and the dull pain between his eyes had increased to a dull migraine. Truth be told he felt awful. But soon his body had had enough and he felt the being of a sneeze. He tried to hold back for a while longer but found it futile. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling as the tickle reached its climax.

“Eschht, Eschht eh ugh sniff heh hhh AET’SCHHH!”

The last sneeze ripped through him with such force all the blankets and towel that had kept him warm fell off of him and he was left sniffling chest exposed to the room and his husband who look just as surprised as himself.

“Goodness bless you Sho, you have caught my cold.”

The tired man just groaned and said with a voice still raspy and strained “Not a cold, it's probably the flu, I should have told you sooner, I just- ugh sniff again heh hhh Hit'choo!! Hih-tschh!! Hihh…hih-tsCHEW!”

With the last sneeze, he felt his Quirk go haywire and soon his hair was floating above him and his eyes had turned a red hue. Luckily for him, no one was in the radius but he still felt awful. A hero could only depend on two things in this world, their Quirk and the one they loved. If Shouta could take one of those away without realizing it, it could mean trouble.

Mic had knelt in front of the laying down Pro and gently cupped a tissue around his husband's nose. “Bless your hon, come on blow for me.”

Shouta did a wet gurgling blow and groaned as the Quirk deactivated his dry eyes yearning for water. Mic dabbed at Shouta slowly being red nose and stood. He made his way over to the linen closet and grabbed the warmest winter sweater and returned to his sick husband.

“Arms up you know the drill.” As Mic helped the Pro get dressed, he called out to Siri.

“Hey, Siri, text Doctor Green we are coming in an hour.” As Shouta's head came through the sweater hole he simply frowned. This Doctor had treated him after the accident but was a close friend of theirs. As Siri confirmed the appointment Mic sensed Shouta's discomfort and replied to him. “I know sweetie you don’t like the doctor but you know he can help better than over-the-counter drugs. He continued and I will be there the whole time.”

Shouta shook his head. “Together,” he said in a small voice

Mic helped the sickly Pro stand and guided him to the mirror next to the door and kissed him on his flushed skin. “Forever Together.”

--

The train ride for the first leg of the journey was uneventful. The hum of the fluorescent lights and the moving subway train was distracting enough to distract other passengers from Shouta's constant sniffling. Mic was stood holding on to the overhead bar while Shouta was sitting with his head in his hands. Mic was constantly asking if Shouta needed anything even though he would not be able to provide much relief besides encouraging words. As the overhead speakers announced their stop Mic helped Shouta stand as the train came to a hard stop be cursed in English as Shouta stumbled forward again him.

The misty afternoon after the rainstorm was heavy in the air but still, Shouta shivered a clear sign of a fever and the couple picked up the pace to the doctors. As they rounded a corner a few blocks away they were met with the flashing blue and red of a line of police cars. As heroes, they knew a situation was happening. Mic half dragging Shouta went to them who seemed to be in charge of the crowd of citizens and asked what was happening. The short man with light brown hair replied with the normal answer for any citizen. “Nothing to worry about Sir heroes will handle it.” Mic frowned and dug in his pocket and grabbed his Hero license and flashed it at the man. Taken aback the man quickly responded. “Oh, um sorry, a Jewelry store has been taken hostage, he paused before continuing “my chief might need an extra few hand…he paused and looked at the struggling man Mic was holding up “is he also able to help.” Mic didn’t have time for this and he ducked below the police tape and began walking to the line of cop cars. Shouta followed but sluggishly. As he neared the chief of the police, he quickly scanned the street. He could see the jewelry store in question had a broken window and was heavily surrounded by local heroes as well as other members of the police task force. As Shouta caught up his eyes were half-closed and looked like he was going to pass out any second. Before Mic could attend to Shouta a round of gunshots filled the air and out of instinct he grabbed both of them and they hit the pavement hard. After a few moments, he helped Shouta lean against a cop car tire and checked over his body. ‘No wounds’ Mic thought ‘I don’t have time for this we need to get through this street.’

Mic looked at the task force and saw the numbers had decreased whoever was in the store had an amble firearm. As a local hero approached the car Mic asked what the status was and what they know. The local hero stating that the man inside the store had a bullet-type quirk and could shoot many rounds of ammo and was demanding everyone to leave and no one would get hurt.

Mic thought ‘a bullet type quirk, like Pro hero Edgeshot’ Mic continued to question. Did they have any other people with them? The local hero shook his head no they are alone. Mic could work with this. He waved over the chief, a man he had worked with a few other times.

If they could stop the man quirk do, they have enough to help the hostages and defeat the villain. The chief simply nodded his head and Mic set to work.

He gently shook the arm of Shouta who barely raised his head. “Hey love I know you are exhausted but we need you Quirk right now can you aim your Quirk over to the storefront.

Shouta tried Mic had to give him credit for that, but as soon his hair started to rise it quickly fell. Shouta mumbled a response thick with congestion. “I. Can’t…tired”

Mic rubbed his arms in understanding and replied “What about if we use your illness as an advantage, you can’t control when it happens right, what if we use that.”

Shouta turned to look at Mic. “What are you suggesting?”

Before he could reply another round of gunshot shot at them and he quickly covered Shouta's body with his. He immediately felt the sharp pain as a bullet entered him under his ribs, and he could feel the blood start to spill. With an adrenaline-filled body, he quickly pulled Shouta into a somewhat kneeling position and aimed his head toward the storefront. “I’m sorry about this love this isn’t going to be big on dignity.”

He grabbed the end of his ponytail and brought the split ends to the underside of Shouta's nose. The already irritated organ began to twitch as the strands of hair slowly twisted around.  

Shouta tried to ignore the incessant prodding of the frizzy hair against his sensitive nose, but with each swipe, the tiny hairs that shook loose were soon sucked up into his twitching and quivering nostrils.  He shuddered and froze in place a tear slowly trailed down from his eye to his cheek as his nose began scrunching and wriggling from the irritation.

“Come on Shouta you can do it,” Mic said. Shouta’s chest heaved and he couldn't help but give in to the itchy and tickly urge to expel those irritants from his nostrils.

“H...hhih...” The beginnings of a sneeze showed as his eyes began to droop. His chest expanded further “Haaahhh! Aaahhhh!”  His eyes fully closed, head tilting back and signaling the oncoming release.  Mic aimed his face toward the storefront and sent a silent prayer that this would work.

“Hit'choo!! Hih-tschh!! Hihh…hih-tsCHEW!”

As Shouta sneezed his hair lifted with ease and soon the storefront was temperately Quick free. Mic activated his Quirk and told the task force to go. Shouta was still panting from sneezing but his eyes were open however Mic didn’t know how long he could keep them open. As the task force ran in the subject found his Quirk would not activate and soon found himself being put in handcuffs and a medical device being placed that would stop his Quirk without the help of Erasure.

As Mic received the thumbs up, he spoke to his shaking husband who was struggling to keep his eyes open. “Bless your hon you did it, you can relax now.” As Shouta did all the energy slipped from him and he lost consciousness and slumped over on the wet pavement. Mic grabbed the fragile man and began to walk to the nearest ambulance, as he stepped into the back of the ambulance the medic and himself helped Shouta into the gurney, and soon the siren wailed and they were finally off to their destination.

--

As they entered the hospital fast lane and the medic was ready to receive both of the ProS, Mic was insistent to be placed near Shouta as he wasn’t comfortable around hospitals. The medic nodded and escorted them to their joined room. Shouta was seen to first. They took blood and gave him fluids; they also provide pain medicine and sadly they had to wait until he woke up.

Mic surgery was quickly scheduled. He met with the surgeon while sitting next to Shouta and rubbing his arm. The female was fairly tall and had blue tint to her eyes and white hair. She explained the surgery before Mic consented.

“Upon examination, we identified 1 cm diameter entry wound at the left lower abdominal wall, Sir. The images we took showed the bullet in the peritoneal cavity but no injured intraperitoneal and retroperitoneal viscera. We decided to remove the bullet laparoscopically.” Mic nodded. She noticed the band around his finger and smiled. “How long have you two been together?”

Mic smiled and replied “4-year next month, but I have known since we were 14 that this is what we both needed.” He paused before swallowing hard “We've been through a lot but I can’t imagine life without him. He is my whole life, my Sky. He bent down and kissed the sleeping man's hand.  The surgeon smiled and spoke “I see, well that must be hard with both of you rushing into battle all the time,” she looked down at her clipboard before continue “I have treated a lot of patients in my day but never have I seen a love quite like your, it’s very special.”  A monitor beeped and the surgeon motioned him to follow. “Well, shall we take care of the bullet Mr. Hizashi. Mic kissed Shouta’s hand before leaving the room.

--

Shouta was hot. It was too bright wherever he was. His mind was foggy. He groaned as he sat up, he immediately recognized the smell of a hospital. What happened. The last thing he remembers is the sound of gunshots and Hizashi…Shit Hizashi he jerked into a sit-up position and looked around. The nurse that had been changing his fluid jumped back. “Calm down you’re okay! Just relax.”

“Where is he…what happened?” He asked rage filling his croaky voice. The nurse replied, “Sir he is in surgery he will be out soon don’t worry he is okay.” She laid him back against the pillows before continuing “We need to make sure you’re okay Sir make sure you don’t have a concussion. He pulled out a light and shown it in his eye without much warning. The tickle flared to life and he turned his head.

“Issh’iIEWW!....hhh..heh… “TSCHTIEW” Thankfully his Quirk did not activate he wiped his nose on the back of his arm as the nurse apologized.

“Sorry Sir, but the good news is you don’t have a concussion so you will be out of here as soon as we can get some medicine and your husband is awake.”

Shouta relaxed slightly and closed his eyes and tried to keep the panic from getting too much to handle. Within the next 2 hours, Shouta tried to not be a bother to any of the staff but his flu had proven a little too much for him to handle.

As a nurse with a gravity-type quirk was walking down the hall with floating plates of dinner, he groaned as another tickle forced him to sneeze and he felt his quirk activate and he heard the crash as the dinner plates fell and crashed on the floor. Many of the nurses were understanding but he still felt awful. When his husband was wheeled into his room Shouta's eyes began to water and he had to fight back tears. The surgeon explained the surgery was a success and he would be discharged later today. She told Aizawa in a voice soft and comforting. “He loves you so much, you are a very lucky man.” She sat on the edge of his bed and looked into his eyes. “I know you feel broken but he is trying so hard to make sure you are taken care of. The world is a cruel place and I know you have suffered more than most. But know this, he loves you and has sworn to protect you. You might be a Hero to the public but he is your Hero, let him save you. She wiped a tear from her eye and turned to leave. Before leaving the room, she said “Oh and you have a gift make sure to grab it before leaving.” And placed a small box on the counter next to the door before leaving him.

When Hizashi woke and passed all the discharge tests and Shouta had his medicine they left the hospital holding each other’s hand and holding a box of tea that they would use for the rest of their life.

The end.

[smp-live]

Was scrolling through c!Wilbur crit blogs again and it got me thinking about why exactly I argue in favour of him so much so here’s a random ramble (that got long) about it:

Most c!Wilbur critics (at least, in the tag, not directly post-lore stream. The ones that do actual analysis on him) are like... really reasonable about it, actually, lmao. Like it’s mostly just calling him a bad person because of power hunger/manipulation/being a bad dad/whatever else. (Not talking about antis. I mean people who are really critical of him, but recognize that he’s a well-crafted character with nuance.)

Which I agree with! I consider myself an apologist, my writing and analysis leans really sympathetic, and I still agree that he’s a shitty rat bastard that I would run far away from irl. Even at the beginning of the story, he’s very morally grey, sometimes using underhanded persuasion tactics, doing ehh things like stealing, and it only gets worse from there.

But on the other hand, he’s... not that bad. Like I saw one person say about c!Dream, “My reaction to most critique of him is... so what?” and that’s how I feel about c!Wilbur, I suppose. Yeah, he tried to rig an election - but it was a last-ditch effort at not going full dictator, he didn’t follow through, and later on he - in part - decided to blow it up because they couldn’t get it back while being democratic. And yeah, he manipulated people - all in all, it wasn’t really really bad things, mostly to paint himself in a better light because of his insecurities, and people sometimes fall into manipulative language without even outwardly realizing that it’s a shitty thing to do. Of course, that shows a bigger underlying problem in their mindset and the way they interpret relationships and possession, but then that’s a different discussion - and definitely one that applies to c!Wilbur.

(Not saying he doesn’t ever intentionally manipulate people. I think that a. sometimes it might be accidental, (”If you wanna be President you’re gonna have to get on my good side,” mans was Not thinking straight,) and b. other times he falls into old habits/coping mechanisms that happen to be manipulation, (Tommy at Las Nevadas.) Other than the election and maybe some times in the early founding of L’Manberg, I can’t think of any moments where I’m like, “Yeah, he is Purposefully Manipulating here.” And even then, it just doesn’t strike me as a terrible thing. People manipulate, it’s a thing they do. That’s it. A morally grey action.)

And I think the majority of the reason I make more posts painting him in a positive light and don’t really discuss my critique of him is because it feels like the fandom has an overwhelming bias of hatred/crit, even if a lot of that isn’t, y’know, proper analysis of his character. I instinctively want to balance it out for this character I love/relate to, because a lot of what I see straight-up ignores the lighter side of his moral-greyness.

Like, a while back, I posted a couple clips from late-election arc, of Wilbur talking about how he feels about Fundy siding with Quackity and against him. And the way I initially saw it while watching was, “Okay. He feels betrayed by his son who disagrees with his politics - and thus, him as a person, because your politics are a reflection of your identity, especially in Wilbur’s mind - and it’s perfectly understandable that he’d want to vent about that in private to a close friend. On the other hand, he should be able to recognize that Fundy’s allowed to be his own person and shouldn’t be babied. Fundy is in the right, here, but Wilbur’s feelings shouldn’t be dismissed.”

But then 90% of the tags were just straight-up hate for c!Wilbur, going as far as to say that he should die again. (And this was after we found out how bad the afterlife was for him.) That fucking floored me. I just couldn’t understand how they took this nuanced character aching for ‘the son he knew’ back (hm. very similar to c!Phil, actually) and turned it into ‘wow. This suicidal man sucks and should maybe die.’ I was so close to making a post defending him before realizing - I was letting fandom bias against a character push me further onto the sympathetic side.

And that’s such a fuckin’ weird thing to have happen, because you’d think that exposure to negativity about a character would make you feel more negative about them? But without fail, every time I scroll through the crit tag, or read a critical post about c!Wilbur/L’Manberg, I maybe lean a bit more towards that side for a few hours before swinging back hard onto the apologist side. Because a lot of the critique, to me, is really just, “so what?” after I let it stew a bit.

Then there’s the whole mental health issue. Obviously it doesn’t excuse the shit he did - I know people who have been in the middle of breakdowns and the stuff they say still fucking hurts, even if they didn’t truly mean it. But recognizing that he needs help? That for pretty much all his time on-screen, he was depressed and paranoid, which obviously affects the way he acts? That’s obvious. And were he in the position to get professional help - which he deserves - everything would be much better off. That’s the root of my apologism, I think: He deserves to get better. He’s not inherently evil, or bad, just a fucked up little man who’s ruined his own life and needs help. I want to see him, specifically him, get better.

Narratively, his punishment has been extreme and disproportionate. Every mistake, every choice - good or bad - has led to suffering, on his part. Start a fun little rebellion, maybe to gain some power? War and betrayal. Declare an election to consolidate said power? Lose, and get exiled. Blow up a nation? Die, and even in the afterlife, he can't catch a break. Purely as a sympathetic human, it feels like he deserves to rest. Deserves to heal.

But even medicated and less anxious, or going to therapy for his neuroticism and depression, or whatever, he still would be quite morally grey. A lot of his manipulation, his power hunger, comes from this neuroticism; from needing to feel safe and needed, (just like Quackity.) Not all of it, though. He’d still have his unhealthy ideals about relationships and possession, for example. Less prominent, sure, but still there. Some people, I feel, discount how tied up with his mental illness it is, while others don’t really recognize that it’s also a personality problem. Like, changing those beliefs is changing part of who he fundamentally is, as a person.

Actually, I think the c!Wilbur apologist community, in general, tends to scapegoat his mental illness a little too much? Not in that we explain his actions with it or ask people not to villainize it, (although sometimes I feel that what we call villainizing mental illness is a bit excessive, but it’s not my place to talk about that as someone who doesn’t really relate to Pogtopia!Wilbur,) but in that we use it in discussions a lot. Which is fair, because it permeates every single aspect of his character, but even without it he’d have toxic traits? Like his possessiveness is not purely a byproduct of his mental illness, imo. Nor is his treatment of Fundy. It’s amplified by it, surely, but that little seed of it is there in the first place. Just as c!Dream’s abuse needs to be addressed as a central part of his character, c!Wilbur’s possessiveness does too - and also outside of the context of their mental health, because they’re both brought on by an internal personality flaw, some fucked-up belief, if that makes sense.

As I said before: c!Wilbur is a mess of a human being that I would hate if I actually met. (irl I would’ve been a SWAG supporter, based on policies, but since this is fiction, I was POG.) But because he’s a character, that flies out the window, and I can love him - not even just as a character, in the sense that I appreciate he’s well-crafted, but in terms of personality and all that shit, while recognizing he’s a kinda crappy guy. Because he’s a character. That’s the fun of it.

[mojjisxng]

Hey can u plz make one jay's oneshot from enhypen in which y/n and jay are top enemies and one day y/n gets drunk in front of him and confess her feelings or maybe in which he is a playboy and y/n is a cold hearted girl??!!

oooo we love a good enemies to lovers moment

thanks for requesting anon ❤️

Two Wrongs Might Make A Right

word count- 1,036

warnings- mentions of alcohol and jay being a big meanie in the beginning

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

y/n pov

“move out of my way dumbass!”

“not until you smile, you literally never smile. no wonder nobody likes you!”

yeeaah this isn’t unusual. it happens everyday between jay and i. i hate the guy because he’s made my life a misery ever since i can remember. i’ll never forget when he threw a toy train at my head in nursery, so hard that my head bled; that was the start of this war.

“good thing i don’t need anybody then,” i reply angrily, “especially not you pestering me EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.”

jay strikes back with “ooooo i’m so scared. NOT.” he then comes right into my face, backing me into the lockers, “i think you’re just using this as a cover to mask the fact that you hate yourself and everybody else for hating you too. you know you’re dumb, ugly and unlikeable, so you shut everyone out. you’re just a jealous little puppy trying to pick fights with people to grasp onto any kind of attention you can get. pathetic really,” he jeers, while all of ‘his’ girls giggle around him. that was the breaking point, he just called me out for what i really am. so i turn around, trying to block out his teasing voice that was still shouting insults at me, and i walk as calmly as i could out of school, the tears threatening to fall. i make sure not to look back at all.

as i turn the corner of the street, i completely break down. my vision is blurred with a torrent of tears that seem to fall endlessly. the self hatred which was always in the corner of my brain, ready and waiting to be triggered, permeates through my whole body.

i need to make it stop.

eventually, i reach a convince store, walk in, find a random bottle of alcohol, shove it into my puffer jacket and saunter out without looking suspicious. i then set off to the park to drink my feelings back down and lock them away. “let’s see what happens today. i might start a fight if i’m lucky,” i chuckle to myself numbly.

jay’s pov

as i’m wandering around the park after school,i come across y/n sitting on a bench, looking an absolute mess. their hair was messy, they had a bottle of liquor in their hands and mascara running down their face because they were-...oh they were sobbing.

“oh wow, so the freak does have feelings huh,” i laughed, “why are you crying anyways?”

when i looked down at them, they were already glaring straight at me.

y/n pov

“i-i’m like this because of you, because you think you can’t t-treat me like shit everyday, and everyone l-loves you for it,” i slur, “EVERY SINGLE DAY FOR YEARS YOU HAVE RUINED MY MENTAL HEALTH, BEATEN ME DOWN SO I’M JUST A DOORMAT TO YOU!” at this point, i am bawling my eyes out, too drunk to care what i look or sound like.

jay replies to me calmly for once, maybe even remorsefully, “i-i’m sorry, i didn’t realise you were so affected. i promise i would never want to hurt you this much. i thought you would just not care like usual, but it’s gone too far now and i am sincerely sorry.”

he’s lying. he has to be lying. why would he be sorry.

“all of this hurts so much because...because i like you! i don’t know why, but i just do. i hate the fact that you hate me and i hate the fact that you have a constant conveyor belt of girls that you just use! even though it’s heartbreaking for me, i always respond to you and argue with you because it’s the only way i can be around you! oh god my life is over now that you know, no one will let me live this down!” whew that felt like a weight off my shoulders, but i’m terrified of how he’s going to use this to bully me even more.

“wait you like me y/n? you actually like me!” he’s smiling like a total idiot, a very handsome idiot and i’m CONFUSED.

“y/n the whole reason i started being mean is because i can’t deal with my feelings for you properly. i wanted to be your friend when we were little but i thought you were too good for me. i don’t know when, but this grew into a crush on you, but i knew you would hate me for being such a dick, so i started to turn to random girls for happiness. but i never felt the same way about them as i do for you, so i just discarded one after the other. i guess we both have pretty unhealthy coping mechanisms ahaha. but anyways, i think you’re beautiful, clever and i know you are more than just your icy persona.”

i’m dumbfounded to say the least. how does he have a crush on me as well, he cannot be telling the truth...but he looks so sincere. my head is already spinning from the alcohol, i don’t need this right now.

jay walks over to me and grabs my hand to pull me closer to him. there are no more words exchanged and he hugs me close to him, my head resting in his chest. it will take some time for me to forgive everything that he has done to me, but i’m just so happy that he sees some good in me. so my dumb, tipsy brain makes me do the only thing it can think of; i smash my lips onto his.

the kiss only lasts a few seconds but it makes me burst with joy.

“thank you for finally being honest with me jay,” i say softly, while grinning like the cheshire cat.

“i should be saying that to you. and again, i’m sorry for everything i’ve put you through,” he reciprocates, “so y/n, will you go out with me tomorrow, on a date?”

“of course, i’d love to.”

“oh and you have a beautiful smile by the way y/n,” jay shouts back as he walks away.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

a/n- this was shit. i’m so sorry you had to go through this mess. i really hope you made it out the other end unscathed by my terrible writing. hope everyone is doing well and staying safe. love youuuuuu - issy ❤️

[khaleesiofalicante]

Hellooo!!

How have you been? I hope you enjoy your break! Did you have enough sleep and water? What kind of tea did you drink? Sending all my love from here💙💙

Now, besides all the love, I feel like I will be crying, so let's do this 😂

What has Max been doing with magic? I don't like this...

"He had been using his magic to keep his heart beating. If he stopped using his magic, it felt like his heart would stop too." Not to be dramatic, but this is killing me....

THE LONDON BOYS! I didn't remember... This is somehow worse 😭 Jackson. I can't.

"Because that’s what dad did. He always stepped up and did his job – no matter the pain." THIS. This is so true

Ok, I'm crying for that speech. Literally crying...

Black fire. I have no words

"I couldn't even give him the one thing he asked of me.” Oh god this is pure pain!!

"Max had always felt that way – like he was a bomb about to go off." THIS is so complicated and sad 🥺🥺

"His father put his arms around him and counted to ten softly." Will Alec Lightwood-Bane stop being so perfect? Jk, I hope he doesn't 💙💙

“Bapak and Rafe will help you.” “What about you?” Max frowned. His father smiled. “Me too. Yes.” (I don't like where this is going... Is he sick? Is there something wrong?? Beside the obvious?? Jjsusbdk im confusion...)

🥺🥺 Alec taking care of Max with the alliance rune made me emo🥺🥺

Really, Alec Lightwood-Bane needs a rest!!

Shit. Helen is sick!!! Brain tumor!!! This is too much

No, no, no. I don’t like this...Alec can’t go!!

“Except put together that Star Wars Lego set,” Oh god😂😂

They are so precious and perfect for each other it physically hurts!!

CLARY!!! It's too much pain!! “He never got to call me mom.”🥺🥺

Well, at least they are communicating…

“Only a fool would willingly walk into Edom.” I don’t want to ruin it for you...But you kind of did…

Clary and Magnus are an underrated duo and I hope they have some peace after that. I can still hope, ok??

“The criminal and the dreamer. They had to feel the same pain.” This sounds like a fairy tale, ngl

“In sickness and in health, right?” These two need to stay together… Rosewood would be a badass couple and I’m 100% sure about that

“My parents still sing to me when I can’t fall asleep. I kinda like it.”🥺🥺 This too much!

Juahsziuew Rosewood!!!

“But no. He wasn’t going to assume what she wanted. Bapak had told him never to assume.” I will say this a thousand times. Parenting done right!💙

“Divine offering.” Sounds accurate

For someone who likes order, Rafael is such a mess😂

Uhuyshuda literally screamed at all that. and the “Kiss me. Destroy me. Do whatever you want with me” quote fucking destroyed me!!

“It’s a family thing,” Yes it is💙💙

Fuck. Fuck. I would literally like to quote everything here!! He is so cheesy I can’t!!! But this would be longer, and I have to sumon all my self-control to just stay in WOW!!!I LIVE FOR THIS!!💙💙💙

“But then the girl walked into the room as if Lexi’s gayness had summoned her.” Her Gay Panic is giving me life!!😂😂

“First, the fake dating and now the bed-sharing. Lexi was living inside a fucking fanfiction.” Bro, you are breaking the fourth wall!!

Julian calls her Olly!!! The pain is back :)

What?? Not the dreams again. Oh God, I didn't know that she used to dream about David!!And now!!! I’M SO CONFUSED RIGHT NOW!!

I have so many questions and 0 answers!!! Anyway, love the chapter and I’M LIVING FOR THE ANGST!! Sending all my love once again!!💜

I loved this so much. As always, I love reading about the parts and traits that resonate with the readers. It's so rewarding and motivating. Thank youuuuuuu

I'm good. It's raining (night here) so I am loving it. I have to submit an assignment tomorrow and I haven't started yet lol. So gonna make some tea and work on that dxkhjfkjsdhf.

I drink mint green tea in the morning/day/evening and butterfly pea flower tea at night 💙

I hope you are doing well too. Sending you some nice chill, rainy vibes.

[anika-ann]

The Best Mistake of My Life - Pt.1

Type: One-shot/ch1 of a series

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 4100

Summary: A soulmate AU. They say having a soulmate is a blessing. Who wouldn’t love the idea of star-crossed lovers, right?

Neither Steve Rogers nor you consider yourself lucky though. It probably has something to do with the lines written on your skin. Because if the words are anything to go by, you’re not sure you want to meet each other.

Warnings: swearing, light angst, FLUFF 

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Steve Rogers was born a sickly baby.

Born a sickly boy to a single mother in the time of great depression, money thin, his health even thinner and having a pathetic number of friends; though that never really bothered him. What his friendships lacked in quantity was hundred times compensated by quality. Bucky Barnes’ loyalty was everything Steve could ask for.

And what Steven Grant Rogers himself lacked in height and strength of body was made up for by the strength of will, amount of determination and a great compassionate heart, ready to welcome anyone sans bullies there.

Perhaps God had seen that Steven would grow into a man carrying his heart on his sleeve and decided that this man should be blessed with a love so magnificent they would tell stories about it; people always had. People were always telling tales about soulmates.

Having a soulmate wasn’t necessarily rare, but not everyone was bound to have one. Being one of the lucky ones was an amazing gift; a promise of a connection as unbreakable as the thread of fate, a promise of an unconditional love.

To know person had found the one, their soulmate, those who were blessed with one wore a brand on their skin, a clue to allow them to recognize their destined partner; a set of words.

It was the set of words what was troubling Steve Rogers the most. Despite Bucky’s reassurance, despite his mother’s last words, despite Steve willingness to fight everything else the world would kick into his way, he found moments in his life he cursed the words written on his skin, reminding him how weak he would always seem to people.

Above the visible line of his collarbone, sticking out on his rather skeletal frame, there sat the words of doom:

‘Oh no, there must be a mistake.’

The very first time his soulmate would spoke to him… they would be disappointed and silently praying that whatever force was behind bounding souls together made one hell of a misstep. A mistake.

That was what Steve was going to be to his soulmate; a mistake. A failure. A disappointment.

And why wouldn’t he be? Ninety pounds of rattling bones, list of illnesses longer than his birth certificate…. Every girl Bucky had ever tried to set him up with out of pity (which Bucky would deny until his last breath) had been disappointed.

“Maybe she’ll be more into brunettes. Maybe she won’t believe her soulmate is blond at first,” his friend would say, “or she’ll be from Queens and wouldn’t get over the fact you’re not, but once you’ll show her the true Brooklyn charm, she’ll fall to your feet.”

Then he would always pat Steve’s shoulder, pulling him into a one-arm hug and tried to get him a date once more.

Steve didn’t believe him. He never did, but recognizing his friend felt better if Steve played along, he would smile and poke his ribs in return.

“Whatever you say. Jerk.”

…

Much later, when he said to Peggy Carter that he was waiting for the right partner to dance with, he was starting to admit to himself that he wasn’t thinking about his so-called soulmate as the one. After all, he went against all odds, against rules, against destiny itself when he had been accepted to the army regardless of his fragile body. Maybe, just maybe it meant that not ending up with his soulmate was what would happen one day.

When he crushed the Valkyrie to the ocean, not even having taken a chance on Peggy Carter despite her obvious interest, he must admit he had been lying to himself.

His last realization concerned his soulmate; despite wanting to fight against the whole world, he couldn’t make himself to take a chance on Peggy Carter, a brilliant woman who was not carrying the right set of words.

His last regret was that he would never meet his true love.

His last thought was that maybe, his soulmate never had a set of words spoken by him on her skin – her first words to him might as well be the ones spoken when reading his obituary, somehow knowing he was supposed to belong with her.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

The moment you were old enough to understand the meaning of the word ‘soulmate’, you were intrigued by the concept; it probably had everything to do with the fact that you too were supposed to have a person meant to be your other half.

Every parent was bound to be delighted when their child was born with that kind of blessing, but the older you were getting, the more you understood what kind of a shock might occur when a kid had rather strange line supposedly spoken to them by their universe-chosen partner for life.

There were people who had words like ‘shit’ on them; literally. Not very delightful. Sometimes there were general lines like ‘Hello, how are you?”. Good luck hunting down the right person. In contrary, some people had a name on them; ‘Hi, I’m Peter Cameron.’ Lucky bastards.

And then… then there were people like you, whose words were just… weird.  

“But I really am 95,” you mumbled under your breath, tracing the handwriting right under your collarbone subconsciously, the first thing you did in the morning if you remembered – which wasn’t every day, not by a long shot.

“This is the stupidest thing ever…”

You shook your head and started to get ready for your day at the office.

Your opinion on your soulmark had been changing during the years. You had had a period of fascination, simply being proud of carrying it. Then you had understood the meaning of your words, and you had been horrified and desperate at the idea of meeting your soulmate at such age or worse, having one that old while you would be thirty or something when encountering them.

Then had come the phase of how could I avoid having a grandpa as my soulmate. Maybe the number meant something different – your soulmate’s weight (you really wouldn’t care for that, you reasoned), his temperature (he might be hypothermic at the moment, no?), his hotel room number, the number of a seat in a theatre perhaps… there were so many possibilities, right?

Now, you just tried not to think about it too hard. You had had boyfriends, never lasting longer than few months sans the one exception of George, who had turned out to be the biggest asshole in the world despite your belief he had might have been the one; until you had caught him in bed with another girl.

Maybe it was that deep inside you had never believed in the relationships you had, because the guy never said the right first words. Or maybe you were full of shit and you couldn’t keep a guy interested, god only knew – hence not thinking about it too hard, going on with your life and taking it as it was.

You might meet him, you might not. It wouldn’t be the first case of never encountering a soulmate. Life was funny that way.

Best not to let it ruin your day. A rather nice day it was, today. If you only didn’t have to spend it in the crowded office with people demanding their licences and taking out their frustrations on you. Well. You were a grown-up; you had to be okay with things not always being okay. Which sucked. But that was life.

…

You had a chance to have a shortest coffee break to exchange ‘hello’s with Ryan – your actual favourite person in the world, your platonic ‘soulmate’ (not in the ominous sense of the word), your boss who never really acted like a boss – and that was it. Apparently, half of Manhattan had gotten their licence this very date years back, so the office was ridiculously crowded. Thank god for the glass between you and the jungle; it shielded you at least partly.

You grabbed the file of request no. 57 that day – you were like a machine, okay, you couldn’t remember the office ever managing to deal with so many in only three hours – pulling out the documents and the licence to make another driver happy.

Your hands were acting on autopilot and you didn’t even glance up when an ID was pushed to you through the small space between the glass and the counter, checking the renewed licence first.

Your first thought was ‘oh wow’. That guy on the photo was gorgeous. You couldn’t help but snap your head up, checking out the real-life thing.

OH WOW.

Scratch the ‘gorgeous’. Replace it with ‘unreal’.

You were tempted to ask if he was made by an ancient sculptor and then brought to life, because his body was as incredible as his face; the broadness of his shoulders begged for a touch. His muscular arms were not so hidden in the sleeves of his dark green shirt. The shoulder-waist ratio was clearly a God’s mistake, a one you were thankful for.

Forget ancient sculptures. His face must have been sculptures by angels and they left him with a halo of blond hair as a reminder. And his eyes. Oh god, such pretty eyes…

He gave you an unsure smile, opening his mouth to probably accuse you of staring and you quickly dropped your gaze, returning to check the licence before you would give it to him.  

Your hand froze hovering above the date of birth. You hesitantly looked up again, biting your lip guiltily despite not being the one who had messed up. You felt kinda sorry for him waiting the line for nothing.

“Oh no, there must be a mistake…” you half apologized, half said only to yourself, meeting his suddenly alarmed gaze.

You put on your most apologetic face, hoping he wouldn’t be too mad. How had someone messed it up again? The birth dates were with typos all the time. How?! There were only numbers for God’s sake! It wasn’t like the person inserting the data to the computer had to spell Buchwald or Mxyzptlk or something like that!

Damn you, Sheryl or Kira or you whoever have done this!

The man – Steven Grant Rogers, as you had learned from his sadly valueless driving licence – was staring at you, speechless. You were honestly getting worried, though you weren’t sure if you were more scared for him or for yourself in case of his reaction escalating.

So you went to explain.

“Uhm… I’m really sorry, mister-“ You quickly eyed the name ID he had given you, checking if the office got the name right at least. “-Rogers, but there seems to be a typo in… in your birth date. I apologize for the mistake our institution made, even though I wasn’t the one to-- you don’t need to know that, it doesn’t matter-- I’m so sorry you have to come here again, but I can’t really let you walk around or rather drive around with a licence claiming you were born in 1918, so…”

You had become so flustered, your cheeks burning, talking and talking without being able to stop, not making any sense even, until-

“But I really am 95,” he admitted sheepishly and you wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of that statement, when something in your brain clicked.

The click was about as loud as an atomic bomb falling on Hiroshima. You were sure everyone had to hear it.

It shut you up immediately. Your whole body froze, your mind buzzing uselessly, not a single thought staying long enough for you to actually understand it. Until two words got stuck, shining in red letters like a neon sign in your brain.

Holy. Shit.

“Excuse me,” you squeaked, grabbing his useless licence and mechanically rising from your seat, walking away.

The moment no one could see you as you got into a hallway, you broke into a run. You acted on instinct. You ran and you ended up in front of Ryan’s office, stumbling in without knocking and without an atom of oxygen left in your lungs.

Ryan’s neatly combed hair swayed as he snapped his head to the door, his eyes strict until they took the newcomer – hint: you – in, widening instantly.

He quickly jumped to his feet, pacing to you.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice filled with worries.

You weren’t able to answer, because—holy shit. Your eyes frantically scanned the room, unable to meet your friend’s gaze. “I-- I-“

A hand landed on your shoulder, your eyes immediately falling on it on instinct. Shit, you couldn’t breathe. Could you?

Ryan’s free hand found you chin, tilting your head so you faced him. “Hey, baby, look at me! What happened? Was someone too much of an asshole to you?”

“I’m not-- he’s-“

Ryan’s face screamed concern, but he had fixed it in a second, soothing smile on his lips. He led you to his sofa, the calming blue cushions enveloping you.

“Sit down on your ass and gimme that,” he maneuverer the document off the steely grip of your fingers, sitting next to you as he looked it over. “Huh, quite a looker this guy. So what did he do?“

“I—the- the licence says he was born in---in 1918,” you stammered, finally able to breathe in properly and speak.

Ryan squinted at the date and then rolled his eyes.

“Oh jeez, again? Why is it so hard to just get it right? I swear I’m gonna have to fire Sheryl, she’s a disaster. What’s wrong with her? It’s not like they would be making a licence for someone that old! There’s a photo goddammit!”

“Ry-Ry… he said he was 95.”

Another eye-roll was his answer. “Yeah, I can count. He would have been if he was born in 1918 instead of 1981.”

“No, you don’t-“ you licked your lips and swallowed against the lump that grew in your throat. Your voice was as shake as your hands. “He just told me that. That he really was 95.”

Your friend observed you silently for a beat, not following. And then realization hit him like a train.

“Oh. OH. No shit?!”

It was your turn to stare silently, your mind loud enough to make noise and fill the space of Ryan office.

“Damn, does he really look like that? Lucky bitch!”

“Ryan!” you yelped in surprise when his fist bumped your shoulder, almost knocking you off balance.

It worked though. It grounded you and threw you back to reality. You tried your best to calm your breathing, but damn. This guy… he was your soulmate. You just met your soulmate. And he wasn’t a grandpa. He didn’t weight 95 pounds either. You weren’t in a hotel, neither in a theatre.

No. The number was only about one tiny mistake— oh, ohhh shit, what was the first thing you had said to him? Oh fuck. Way to go, girl!

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked rubbing the spot he had punched.

“No!” you shot back immediately, your mind racing.

“You know what I mean. You look better now. Though I gotta say, so is he. His face really is quite easy on the eyes. How about the rest of him?”

Ry-Ry, your bi-side is showing.

You chuckled at the easy talk, the tension from your shoulders falling a bit.

“Well… yeah, he’s like a model. So out of my league…” you muttered, remembering your ogling. This guy was your soulmate? Wasn’t it a mistake?

Ryan was suspiciously quiet; normally you would expect him to scold you for selling yourself short. Instead, he was staring at the licence, his lips parted in silent shock.

What now?

“What?” you demanded, following his line of gaze.

Ryan just chuckled, the incredulous sound ringing, echoing in the quiet space. “Girl, I hate to break it to you, but I might not fire Sheryl just yet.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“Remember that one time aliens were falling from the sky?”

You blinked in surprise at that question, not following his train of thoughts. “Uhm… yeah? Pretty hard to forget that…?”

You were lucky you hadn’t been smashed under a building that day. Many people in Manhattan were, some sadly not. So yeah, you remembered.

“You remember the waitress from the café talking after the incident?”

“Oh my god, Ry-Ry, just spill it! I’m not following!”

Your friend huffed in exasperation, shoving the licence in your face, his finger on the name.

Steven Grant Rogers. Yeah, you could read too.

“That name should ring a bell, you dumbass! Would you say that this guy is handsome enough to be Captain America?” he hissed, making your heart stop.

Oh. Oh shit.

OH SHIT.

Your brain short-circuited.

“Oh my god. He really is 95,” you breathed out, your brain somehow choosing the least logical reaction to this whole revelation.

Ryan laughed. “Ding-ding, we have a winner! Holy crap, baby, I think you just got yourself a superhero soulmate!”

And just like that, you started panicking again. You gulped, watching the driving licence as if it could blow up.

“Shit, Ry-Ry! What do I do?” you whispered, desperation soaking through. What were you supposed to do upon that revelation? Captain America was your freaking soulmate!

Ryan smiled at you reassuringly, patting your cheek. “Not coming back to your spot behind the counter today, that’s for sure.”

“But-“

“I’m going in. I think this place won’t blow up if I fill in for once. I sure hope I remember the process, though I’m probably not gonna be as efficient as you are.”

You didn’t know what to say. Hell, you didn’t know what to do! But yeah, not coming back to the jungle sounded good, especially given your frantic escape.

“You really would do that?” you asked hesitantly and Ryan just rolled his eyes. “But… Ryan, what the hell do I do?!”

Your bestie gave you a lopsided smile and a wink, patting your cheek patronizingly once more before heading to take over your workplace.

“Whatever you want, baby. Whatever you want.”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

While you were having your own freak-out, Steve was standing at the counter, dumb-struck.

He couldn’t believe it. You had actually said those words. And judging by your reaction to his own, he must have said yours. Which… yeah, congratulation, Rogers, you had given your Universe-chosen dame an amazing note on her skin. To be fair, so had she.

Incredible.

Impossible.

His soulmate was in this century. In this millennia. That was what he got for ever thinking he could escape fate; a slap right in his face.

Because while for several cherished moments, he basked in the light on his soulmate not considering the pairing with him the infamous mistake the words on his skin claimed… he soon learned that it didn’t mean no heartbreak for him.

You had taken an abrupt leave to the back of the office and never came back.

Few minutes later, a man emerged from the door you had disappeared into, taking your seat and without a second look on Steve’s ID, he explained that Steve would have to come here again.

Steve didn’t care for the process of getting his driving licence renewed in the slightest, barely listening. His gaze was at the door to the hall, opened ajar, the door you didn’t return from after learning he was meant to be your partner.

When he had seen you behind the desk, he had considered you a beautiful dame, certain his heart had skipped a beat when your eyes met his. The sight of you was burned into his brain, now forever as a painful memory.

Clearly, you didn’t want him. Not because he was sickly, 95 pounds or 5’7’’ or all bones. Not because your words to him were about a mistake. Not because he was from Brooklyn. No. Honestly, Steve didn’t know why, what could scare you off so soon. He just knew you had escaped at the mere sight of him.

With his mind fuzzy, he walked out of the building into the bright nearly midday sun, blaming the sharp rays for the sting in his eyes. He sighed, running his hand down his face, suddenly bone tired.

“Mr. Rogers?” a shy female voice addressed him, instantly making him turn around to its source.

His lips parted in awe. There you stood, your airy floral dress reaching your knees, played with by the softest breeze. Hesitant smile on your lips. A tiniest spark in your eyes as he subconsciously took two steps to you, just to prove you would still be there if he came closer. You didn’t disappear.

“Y-yes?” he stuttered, actually feeling like the small man he had used to be before the serum.

You quietly introduced yourself, meeting his eyes once more, effectively stopping his heart again. You offered your hand for him to shake and he, feeling like he was dreaming, something else possessing his body, kissed your knuckles as he would have done if meeting you seventy years ago.

The most adorable heat warmed your cheeks at the gesture and you casted your gaze down; but Steve did catch a glimpse of the earlier spark shining brighter before you hid yourself from him

“I… I believe we have a lot to talk about,” you whispered and he instinctively gave your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go and shifting a half step closer to you. The corners of his lips unwittingly turned up, something warm building up in his chest as you returned the smile with hesitance.

“Yes, I think we do.”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Nicolas J. Fury was sitting in his office, waiting for the door to finally open. There was something bugging him – and that something was about 5’7’’ tall, had red hair and was doing whatever it wanted, messing with his business. On top of that, she left him waiting; he had requested her ten minutes ago and she still hadn’t arrived.

He couldn’t help but let his sarcasm show when she came eventually.

“Agent Romanoff. Thank you for coming. Now, care to explain me why did you insist on Rogers getting his driving license renewed in person when we have done it for him already?” he demanded, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his desk.

The agent just shrugged. “He needs to meet people.”

“Don’t give me this shit, Natasha! What are you not telling me?”

Slow smirk spread Natasha’s lips, perhaps a bit smug, but she didn’t say a word.

“Romanoff-“

“Alright! Jeez, Nick, you have to work on your patience when it comes to Rogers, I swear…” she teased him. However, at least she started talking. “I might have run his… words through the system Stark provided us.”

Realization dawned to Fury. There was only one system she could be talking about. The soulmate matching one. Insert the words of a person and it would search the database for a possible match; everyone’s words were being put into the database at their birth. It made SHIELD’s work easier in case criminals happened to have a soulmate; the connection was so unique it usually offered a weak spot even for the rotten people.

Nicolas Fury raised his eyebrow expectantly, while Natasha just watched him, amused as she had the upper hand. The man rolled his functioning eye and sighed exasperatedly. Why was he keeping her around again? Oh right, she was his best agent.

“Fine. Did you find a match?”

Natasha snorted. “I didn’t even have to look for a match. There aren’t many women with ‘But I really am 95’ written on their skin,” she explained dryly and Fury just wanted to growl, cursing mentally.

How had no one thought about using the database in the first place?! It had cost them a lot of money, okay? They had it for a reason!

“She clean?” he inquired instead or swearing out loud and Natasha scoffed.

“Like a whistle, not even a speed ticket, which is rather ironic. She’s boring, really – she’ll be perfect for him. Can I go now? I have an ass to kick.”

“…Rogers’?”

“Barton’s, actually. Have a good day, Director,” Natasha spun on her heels and headed to the exit gracefully.

“Hey, I want her file!” Fury complained, already knowing he wasn’t going to receive it from her.

“Find it yourself!” she threw over her shoulder cockily, her red hair swirling with the sudden movement of her head.

The director of SHIELD tried to keep his amusement in check, controlled by the irritation, but he lost. The corners of his lips twitched as the door clicked behind his best spy.

Why did he keep her around again?

He started the search for the words Natasha had said, sinking into his chair comfortably.

Alright, no doubt future Mrs. Rogers. Let’s see how boring you really are.

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Part 2 (originally this was only meant a one-shot)

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Tags: @cxptain @mermaidxatxheart @smilexcaptainx​

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If you wish to be tagged/untagged, let me know - either via an ask or a message :)

Thank you for reading!!

[lord-of-nightmares-and-anguish]

just a jimon thing my brain came up with in a rare moment of lucidity

Jace was known for his recklessness. Despite pretending to be oblivious to it, Jace was well aware that he tended to run into things head first. Which is kinda weird, because when Alec says We’re Lightwoods. We break noses and accept the consequences its inspirational. But when Jace actually does it, its reckless, and suicidal, and immature.

And....well when Jace allows himself a rare moment of clarity he can acknowledge that he’s a little reckless, and maybe a tad bit immature. But suicidal? Maybe, but not in the way people think. Jace doesn’t take the most dangerous missions because he has a death wish.....mostly. Death isn’t on his mind when he runs in front of Simon to take the hit from the demon. Really. Whenever he gets into situations like this, sprawled on the ground, and not even in a sexy way his brain distantly adds, the last thing on his mind is Death.

You either live long enough to see yourself become a villain, or die a hero. Over and over and over in his head, like a movie that never stops. In spite of his parabatai’s best efforts, he can’t seem to shake Valentine’s hold on him. He was his father in all the ways that matter but shouldn’t and he can’t let himself become like Valentine. He can’t. So yes, he acts like his flesh and angel blood are an adamis shield against everything bad in the world. He doesn’t want to die. Not really. Not yet. Not when he has the cutest Daylighter to play video games with on the weekend.

But as much as he loves Simon. And wow, isn’t that a revelation to have sitting in a pool of blood. As much as he loves Simon, he loves being remebered as good more. His intentions have been muddled, between the mixed messages from the Clave and his family, Jace knows that people don’t know how to feel about him. He feels it in the way they keep him at arms length. Far away enough that if he turns, they won’t be at fault for associating with him. But just close enough that if he ever ends up proving his worth they won’t be condemned with ostracizing him. It’s exhausting.

Jace doesn’t want them to still be guessing when he’s in his grave.

He groans as he feels cold hands pick him up and carry him to what must be a portal. Jace feels slightly unsettled because he doesn’t hear Simon breathing. Jace chooses to ignore it, because if he’s going to spend his last moments in his crush’s arms he’ll be damned if he spends it worrying about why Simon isn’t breathing. He figures that Simon’s allowed to break from his normal behavior. It’s not like he carries Jace around bridal style on a daily basis either. 

~break~

Jace wakes up in the infirmary. He looks at the stars, and sees them dim before his eyes as the realization that he’s alive hits him, and yeah maybe Jace needs to reexamine his not suicidal thing. Jace thinks that he’s alone, which is why when he moves to get out of bed to make the long and probably painful trek to his room he’s surprised when someone stops him.

“Simon?”

The Daylighter was at his bedside looking down at him with the most torn expression he’s ever seen. His eyes glinted with determination while his face had red residue from his dried tears.

“Jace.”

Jace looks at Simon for a long moment as silence stretches between them. Simon seemed to be steeling himself to say something important but Jace was still stuck on how Simon had said his name. When was the last time someone had said his name as a sentence? Like everything he was could be encompassed by his name, and that was enough. He was enough. Jace’s last remaining braincell reminded him that everyone used his name as a sentence; and the only reason why it was different when Simon said it was because he was in love and possibly still riding the highs of pain medication. Jace heard heard Simon’s soft intake of breath, and prepared himself for whatever he was about to say.

“Jace, I-....I don’t know how to say this but I’m just gonna say it and maybe, hopefully this makes sense. You scared me today, Jace. Well, you kinda scare me everyday but today was different. Seeing you lying on the ground half-dead.....all to protect me. It was terrifying. A-and not because it was a lot of blood, but because the thought losing you makes me feels like im back in the grave again, wondering whether I’ll ever get out. And I know it shouldn’t affect me like this, since I’ve known you for months now, and I should be used to it, but fuck Jace I don’t want to be! You’ve been a soldier all your life. Fighting is in your blood so I know, that you know how to save someone without putting your life on the line. And I can’t watch someone I care about constantly put themselves in danger like this.”

Jace felt his heart break at those words and tried to mentally prepare himself for another person to walk out of his life. Obviously Simon’s monologue wasn’t enough torture because Jace could hear him gearing up to say something else.

“Which is exactly why, you need to tell me why you keep on acting like you’re an invincible punching bag, so that I can fix it. And I can ensure that I still have someone to beat in Mario Kart.”

Jace snorted, “Good to know that you have your priorities straight and my best interests at heart.”

“Always sweetheart, always.” And if Jace’s heart fluttered at the pet name, that’s nobody damn business but his own.

“Anyways, Jace chop chop! I mean you don’t have to tell me. Right now that is. But it’s either me or Alec and I know he’s your parabatai and all but he can be really dense when it comes to listening and helping people with things like this.”

Jace grumbled but he couldn’t deny that Simon was right. He loved Alec, but he has a hard time with sensitive subjects. Jace still shudders about the conversation Alec tried to have with him about Celine’s mental health history. Jace decided to just suck it up and tell Simon. It’s not like he has anything to lose, and he doubts anything he’ll share with Simon will ruin his perception of him. He knows to keep the darkest parts of himself hidden. He’s just sharing his thought process, right? He’s not revealing anything, its just simply a matter of logic. No one wants to be remebered in a bad light.

So he tells Simon that. He tells him how he feels cold, like he’s always on the outskirts of living in Valentine’s shadow, and there’s not many ways to redeem yourself in the Shadow world. Not when you messed up as much as Jace did. 

He doesn’t expect Simon to hug him. He tells Jace that what people think of him doesn’t matter.

“And Jace, I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m immortal. Trust me when I say that I’ll make sure that everyone remebers you for the great person you are.”

Jace can’t deal with the overload of comfort from Simon, but decides that he’ll try to enjoy it anyways because it’s not everyday he gets held by the love of his life.

Simon gently lays them down, mindful of the bandages around Jace’s midsection and tucks them both under the covers. Jace snuggles into Simon’s side, still sort of convinced that this is a drug addled dream because why else would Simon be so nice? When has a conversation about his behavior gone this well? Jace refuses to believe that this is real, because if it is then Jace will get used to this. Used to having someone be there for him. And eventually he will get hurt again, and Jace is just beginning to find his footing after everything that’s happened. So for now he closes his eyes and settles against Simon’s back. He tries to tell himself that this doesn’t mean anything, and that Simon cares about him as a friend and nothing more. Jace will take what he can get, and besides, friend cuddles aren’t all that bad.

[criminally--reid]

breath play

the spencer fic I've been talking about for weeks lmao

Warnings: dom!spencer, breath play, degredation, being tied up, praise, dirty talk, (this ended up being a lot less intense than I anticipated lmao my b I guess :/ )

Pairing: spencer x fem! reader

Word count: 3.2k (3,203)

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A sexualsadist serial killer in Wisconsin fulfilling his ‘bdsm’ fantasies by foreplaying with his victims and unfortunately asphyxiating and stabbing them. How fun. 

Reid had been suspiciously uninvolved in this case. Well.. as uninvolved as the most intelligent member of the team could be without ruining the operation. Quick blurbs of information only adding general details to the case; nothing to narrow anything down. No constantly working on the case. When Reid wasn’t needed it’s almost like he wasn’t even there. Oddly distant; his mind was always somewhere else. Something about this case in particular bothered him. It was so unlike the doctor to be so uninterested in a case. Normally, he let the case swallow him whole; engulfing him in his entirety. Mind, body, and soul set on finding the missing pieces and solving the puzzle… but not this one. 

“Something on your mind, Spence?” I ask, sitting down opposite him on the jet; finally able to relax after a long day in the field. 

“Did you know the average person only has sex about two times a week. Things like culture, health, and social status all effect how as well as how often people have sex. But still, just about twice a week on average.” 

“There’s a lot to unpack there, so I’m just gonna say ‘no.’” Spencer chuckles, and I join in. 

“Seriously though. You’ve been so distant lately. Like something about this one in particular has been bothering you.” 

“I mean.. Murder cases aren’t something I often enjoy, so yeah, this whole ordeal has been kind of bothersome.” 

“You know that’s not what I meant, Spence.” 

“It’s just that-” he contemplates for a moment before patting the seat beside him for you to accompany him. You do so, and he leans toward you, so he can whisper. “I really, really hated this case… as you could tell- obviously. I- I’ve been thinking about how the unsub used aspects of foreplay before killing his victims - you know, the tying-up and the asphyxiation stuff - and about the stuff I’ve been kinda interested in.” 

You mull over everything Reid’s just said. It’s not such a longshot surprise to you. I mean with the degradation on the first encounter and the handcuffs the second, you weren’t really taken aback with what he was hinting at. “I’m gonna ask again. What exactly is bothering you, pretty boy?” 

He sighs and closes his eyes; brown knitted together tightly. Whatever he’s about to say is going to come out really fast, and you prepare yourself to catch and process it all. “I’ve been thinking about how I fantasize about choking and degrading and tying up my partner and all that stuff, but with this case - this- this monster using that to inturn kill people - what if that’s me? What if I take things too far? You know my mother’s schizophrenic; what if I’m dangerous?-” 

“Woah, Spence, calm down. There’s nothing wrong with being a li’l’ freaky. Just because someone used things like that to fulfill their murderous fantasies doesn’t make you a bad person. And just because there’s a possibility that you’re carrying schizophrenia, doesn’t automatically make you dangerous; you know that. There's nothing to worry about, Spence. I promise.” You put your hand on his thigh for reassurance. He places his hand a top yours, lightly tapping his fingertips on the back of your hand. 

“Can we try something?” he asks quickly, making and holding eye contact with you for the first time since this conversation started. 

“Doctor Spencer Reid, are you asking to choke me?” I ask fake flabbergasted. “Are you really asking to-” 

“You know what, nevermind. At this point, I’d rather choke myself.” 

“That was a joke, Spencer,” you say rolling your eyes. “But when? Now?” 

“Wow, eager are we?... I was thinking more like when we land and head home for the night. We wouldn’t want to risk the rest of the team waking up to sounds of you being a pathetic mess for me, now would we?” 

“N-No, sir. Of-of course not,” you gulp, taking notice of how his dominant personality is already taking shape before you. 

“Perfect. We land in thirty.” He pats your thigh and turns away from you, returning to the book he was reading prior to. He motions for you to return to your seat across from him, and as you do so, he looks up at you sending a wink your way before he returns to his book indefinitely; allowing the anticipation and excitement to course through your veins for the next thirty minutes. 

The landing comes soon, and the team moves to grab their stuff; eager to get home and relax for the night. You grab your bag and hurry off the plane, dragging along behind emily. 

“What were you and Reid talking about?” Prentiss turns around suddenly, taking you by surprise. 

“I, un, I thought you all were asleep..” 

“Eh, I was in limbo I guess; you know. I just heard him rambling and hoped he was okay.” 

“Oh yeah. He’s fine. Just uh- just something in the book he’s reading.” 

“That’s good,” she smiles and continues off the plane. 

You turn around when you feel a hand drag down the curve of your ass. You glare at Reid and mouth ‘you fucker’ to which he chuckles and holds up his hands in surrender. 

“Hey, y/n/,” Derek says walking over to your desk as you put your files away and zip up your go-bag. “Garcia, Emily, and I are goin’ out tonight. You wanna come?”

“I’d love to.. But I’m exhausted. Maybe next time?” 

“Yeah forsure,” morgan replies before looking at Spencer, silently asking if he’d like to join them. 

“Yeah I’m gonna have to pass, too. I think I’m gonna memorize a book instead.”  

“Whatever, boy genius,” Morgan replies with a laugh. “We’ll be missing you guys.” He fake frowns before heading out with Emily and Garcia. 

“Wait for me!” JJ calls in a sing-song voice as she rushes to catch up with the rest of the group, slinging her arm around Garcia’s shoulders. “To the bar!” she exclaims and they all laugh before finally leaving the office.  

The clicking of a pen catches your attention and becomes even more prominent in your senses the closer it gets to your desk. You look up from your desk to see said pen held in none other than Spencer’s very attractive, fidgety hands. 

“So,” he drags out, tossing the pen onto your desk with a light clank. 

“Is there something you need, Doctor Reid?” you pry, looking at him innocently through your lashes from your seat at your desk. 

“You.” 

“Well,” you begin, standing up out of your chair to stretch. “Lucky for you I just declined the amazing offer to go out, all so I could spend tonight with you.” 

“Mhmm.. Lucky me,” Spencer replies lowly and looks you up and down, drinking you in. Absorbing your beauty. Somehow after two long days of working in the field, you managed to be drop dead gorgeous. Absolute perfection in his eyes. 

“Your place or my place?” you ask, maneuvering from behind your desk to in front of it. 

Spencer looks at his watch. “It’s only.. Ten thirty. I’d say we have time for both.” 

“My house it is,” you chuckle and turn around, earning a firm slap on the ass from Spencer. A shockwave of pleasure runs straight to your center, and you gasp. Closing up your currently case file, you turn back around and your eyes lock with Spencer, who’s smiling back at you innocently. 

You throw on your jacket and toss your go-bag over your shoulder. Spencer laces his fingers with yours as you walk out of the building and to your cars. You feel the excitement swell inside your belly. Racing back to your house to let none other than your colleague ravage you like a wild animal. Desire and lust driven, taking your clothes off followed by his; hands grazing up and down your sides, raising chill bumps in their wake. You can feel it now. His touch. The wetness pooling beneath you, soaking your underwear through. The arousal bumps already beginning to slowly creep down your arms and up over your chest. There was no way in hell you could get home fast enough. 

You finally arrive at the parking garage that accompanies your apartment building; Reid quick in tow, parking right beside you. He clambers out of his car before you get the chance, and he comes to meet you at your car door. The two of you race up tp your apartment, eager to rip each other’s clothes off. 

The door shuts, and it's game over. Spencer's hands travel to the bottom of your shirt, peeling it up over your head and tossing it on the floor. Your back meets the cool surface of the door, goosebumps rippling down your back. Reid's lips attach to yours as his fingertips dance around the bumpy terrain of your back. Your hands travel up and into his hair, tugging ever so slightly making him groan. He fights for dominance over the kiss and you allow him in. As his tongue dances with yours, savoring your taste, his hands soon find solace at the waistband of your pants as he unbuttons them and drops them to the floor with a light thud; exposing your already-soaked panties. 

Spencer's lips roam from their start of your lips to your jaw and down your neck. You catch your breath as he unbuttons your blouse and pushes it off your shoulders and down your arms; dipping his supple lips further into the valley of your breasts. 

A shaky breath escapes your plump lips as he draws your lips nipple into his mouth; excitement flowing to the now erect bud as he switches to the other one, doing the same. He releases your right nipple and comes back up to meet your eyes. His lust and hunger filled expression softens to one of passion. You move your trembling fingers to the too button on his lavender button-up as his lips meet yours once again. 

Soon, all his clothes accompany yours in disarray over the floor, and the two of you are waltzing over to the bed; you landing on it softly with a light thud. 

"Look at you," he says slowly from his position at the foot of the bed; standing, glistening in his pre-sex glory before you. "All laid out on display for me." You subconsciously pull your thighs closer together, trying to conceal your wetness. Slowly, he begins his crawl onto the bed, hovering over you and lowering his lips to your ear. "Don't hide from me." 

Retracting his face, your reach up and gently trail your fingertips over his cheek, drinking all his features of perfection."Spencer." The delicate sound passed through your soft lips as Spencer swiftly moves to encompass them with his. Gnawing on your bottom lip gently with his skillful teeth before pulling away and whispering, "It's Dr. Reid." 

He begins his travels back down to your area, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses in his wake. He looks up at you through his eyelashes as he pushes your thighs apart; a string of your arousal stretching between the two. Collecting it his forefinger, then lifting it to his mouth, he wraps his lips around the digit relishing in the taste of you before delving into your core. 

You buck your hips, aching for more contact; more friction. Spencer's hands wrap up and around your thighs, holding you to the point where you can't move. 

"Doctor Reid.. please." The sound tumbles quickly from your mouth before you even know what you're asking for. Your head falls to the pillow and your mouth gaped in ecstasy. Your hands fly from their positions at their sides and tangle in Reid's hair, desperately trying to pull him just a little closer to your center. 

Reid groans as you pull at his roots, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to the depths of you. So close to the edge already, just from Spencer using his tongue. Almost falling over the edge… 

But then he pulls away. 

"Mnnguh, Spencer," you draw out, the pout apparent in your voice. 

"No touching, princess." His face glistens with your slick, and you quiver at the sight momentarily before he collects all your juices onto the back of his hand, making eye contact the entire time.he licks it off; savoring every last drop of your sweetness. 

He clambers out of the bed leaving you frustrated and aching for that release that you so close to seconds ago. You watch as he stands facing away from you - his delicious back on display - as he scans the room. After a moment of deep contemplation, he goes over to your bottom dresser drawer and pulled out a long piece of rope. 

You didn't appreciate how he knew where your stuff was. However, you couldn't blame him. You were profilers after all, and he probably knew more things about you than you knew yourself. 

Spencer smirks at you on his way back over to the bed. You follow him with your eyes as he takes each of your wrists and ties them together and to the headboard. "What's your word?" 

"M-my word?" you stumble over the question as your met face to face with Dr. Reid once again. 

"Your uh safeword. Whenever anything's too much, just say it, and I'll stop." 

Knowing what Spencer was capable of, you weren't sure you'd ever want him to stop. Nonetheless, you pick a word. "Purple." More specifically, the lavender purple button up that Spencer wears. The color that - no matter where you see it - you associate with him. 

"Purple it is," reid replies cheekily, once more descending to your dripping core. 

You writhe beneath him in pleasure and his skillful tongue and fingers bring you to your second orgasm. "D-doctor Reid, ple-please." 

"Please what? Use your words, y/n." 

"God- fuck! Reid, fuck me please. I n-need you-" 

"Look at you," he says as his eyes drink in the sight before him: his co-worker, needy and begging beneath him. "Such a pretty slut. Begging to be fucked by her co-worker. Do you really want me to fuck you y/n? You want my cock deep inside your pretty pussy?" 

You feverishly nod your head, but the answer isn't enough for Spencer. "Say it," he seethes by your ear through gritted teeth with his hand wrapped tightly around your throat, slowing your breath intake. 

"I.. want your cock.. insi..de me, D-doctor R-reid," you struggle to form the plea. 

His hand still around your neck; fingers lightly pressing onto your airways, but now at arms length as he uses his other to trace your folds with the tip of his member.  He slips into you easily, and you involuntarily close your eyes; the pleasure consuming you from the inside out. His thrusts agonizingly slow as he relishes in the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around him. 

"Spencer-" 

"What's my name?" 

"Dr. Reid, please go.. faster. God please- fuck!" 

"Gah, such a needy whore, hm. Taking my cock so well. I bet this is what you were thinking about all day. Isn't it?" He speeds up his pace tenfold, rendering you speechless; reaching the deepest parts of you, almost tossing you over the edge once more. "Mmh, gonna cum for me? Don't hold back, baby. Let go for me." 

And on cue, you release around him, your juices seeping down your thighs and dampening the bedsheets beneath the two of you. 

His pace never slowing down, and his grip on your throat doesn't ease up any either. Your air supply is running low, but you don't care. The sight before you is enough to send you barreling into the abyss of euphoric pleasure. Spencer above you, his sweat-coated torso as arms length and his features contorted in pleasure as he relentlessly pounds into you. 

You admire the god holding himself armslength away from you. The sweat glazing over his torso and dripping fro his forehead. His eyes squinted and mouth agape in pleasure. You clench around him once.more as your fourth orgasm threatens to erupt.

"God fuck." His disgruntled voice coming in as music to your ears. "So fucking tight. You- you gonna cum again, huh? Dirty slut. Cum for me, baby." 

Your forth orgasm rushes over you like a tsunami. Strangled obscenities, moans and groans escape your mouth. You can't take any more. His grip on your throat has barely let up any since he started. And your orgasm count was insane. No one had ever gotten you over four times. The pleasure was more than intense, and you weren't sure how much longer you could last. 

"...purple…" you whisper as your vision goes spotty. 

A look of worry replaces Spencer's previous pleasure-apparent expression. He quickly removes his hand from your throat and pulls out of you. 

"Shit.. shit. Shitshitshit! A-are you okay? Did I hurt you? Fuck. I'm so sorry. Really, I never meant to-" Spencer nervously rambles on as you take a much needed deep, refreshing breath. 

"I know. Spencer, shut up. It's okay. Just please keep going." 

"Y-you sure?" 

You nod feverishly urging him to continue. He re-enters you slowly, filling you all the way up. You arch into him, meeting his agonizingly slow thrusts. "Mmh.. faster, Doctor Reid, please!" 

His pace returns to as it was before. The squelching sound and skin slapping against skin echos through the room once more. One hand white-knuckles the sheets while the other one reaches for Spencer's hand at your side. Grabbing his wrist, you bring his hand back up to your throat, wanting so desperately for him to choke you again. He makes eye contact with you - as if asking permission - as you place his lanky fingers around your neck. Swallowing hard, he applies pressure and your mouth falls open in a lazy smile. 

Your fifth orgasm creeps up on you quickly, but so is Spencer's. "I'm.. so fu- so fucking close," you let out raspily. 

"Me too," he replies, dropping his head. His free hand maneuvers down to run quick circles on your clit, throwing you into convulsions as your fifth orgasm hits you like a truck. 

A few more pumps, and Spencer pulls out of you, cumming on your stomach, moaning your name and mixed profanities. He finally brings his head back up to look at you and undoes your restraints, freeing your wrists. A weary smile accompanies his fucked-out expression. He searches around in the floor, finding something to clean you off with before climbing back into the bed and pulling you up snug with him. 

"That's what I was afraid of you know," he says barely above a whisper. "Hurting you." 

"You didn't hurt me, Spence. I just needed to breathe," you reply with a slight laugh, then placing a kiss to his hand that's draped over.you. 

"You staying?" You ask after a bit of silence. 

"You're a fool if you think I'm going anywhere." He pulls the blankets up over the two of you and pulls you in even tighter; drifting to sleep in no time. 

[catzula]

Heey! I like your blog a lot and was wondering if you could do a scenario if not headcannons for Bakugou, Shinsou and Todoroki going to paintball or laser tag? Thanks 🌟

I only wrote Todoroki, sorry! But I have this Bakugou fic I’m writing right now so I kinda only had time for one, and I always wanted to try writing Todoroki! So... Enjoy?

Warnings: Angst but not really and it’s a good ending, don't you worry, Todoroki being a total dumbass, Bakugou being the perfect man he is, one or two swearing, I tried to make this one short so its 3k lol 

***

Heterochromatic eyes looked at the tickets in his hand full of confusion. "What are these?" His gaze went up and found your eyes, the eyes that were staring at him with glee, and some other emotions he couldn't quite name.

Though he couldn't decipher these emotions, literally everyone else could. Everyone in class 1/A was aware of your crush on Todoroki Shouto. Well, except for him, of course. That's why Mina, being the good friend that she is, had decided that she was going to help you. 

You were glad to find out that you were now getting outside help, but as the plans went on and on, without success, you started to feel very awkward and shy about it. Now, you weren't even sure if Todoroki was doing this on purpose, or he was just that... oblivious to emotions. So after many failed attempts, you had decided this was the last idea you were willing to try. 

A genius, though not a very original idea of laser tag, was suggested by Ochako. Although you were suspecting Kaminari had a say in this too since he was begging everyone the past week to play laser tag with him.

You weren't unhappy with the idea though, it could lead somewhere at least. So you were very grateful when Mina convinced Todoroki, though not very subtly, to play laser tag with them. Now it was your move, to ask him to go to a movie with you after laser tag, but looking at his confused stare, you had a feeling you were going to be rejected.

"Who else is coming?" He asked in that monotone voice of his, and you could swear you felt a stab in your heart. Now, you just wanted to run far far away and not tell him you had planned to be alone. "Oh... I thought we could-" 

"We are coming too!" Ochako chimed in, dragging Izuku in the conversation too. "W-we are?" Izuku asked, his cheeks the same color as Kirishima's hair. When he saw Ochako's stare at him, telling him to go along, he stammered. "Oh- O- of course, we are!" 

"Oh, umm..." Todoroki shot a small look at you. "Okay, then." You bit your lip, internally telling yourself not to cry or you'll jump out the first window you see, you forced a smile and ran walked out of the class. You could hear Mina groaning, "Oh my god!" And you could imagine Todoroki looking at her, confused. 

"Wow." You heard a voice from behind. "Never thought Icy- hot was that dumb." 

"Yeah, me neither." You mumbled, relaxing when you realized it was your explosive friend who came after you. "If this" you shook the tickets in your hand to tell him what you meant by this, "doesn't work out either, I need you to stick with me the whole day, so that I won't jump in front of a car because of my humiliation, okay?" He shrugged, but you knew he would always be there when you needed him.

***

Todoroki had no idea what was going on. 

Why were you always there when he looked at literally anywhere? He had noticed you both were always ending up together, was this the universe inferring with his life? Because if that was what this was, he was not happy. 

He didn't like you, not the tiniest bit. He was sure he hated you. Or there wouldn't be any other explanation to this feeling he got when he saw you, or when someone mentioned you, or hell, even if he thought about you! That was also another indicator that he hated you. He thought about you a lot. He didn't like thinking about you, but it seemed he just didn't know how to stop. 

Whenever you were around, he felt very uncomfortable or very self-conscious. Was he sitting in a weird pose? Did he smell bad? Did he comb his hair that morning? Maybe he was talking weird, or he could have buttoned his shirt wrong too. Did his scar look weird- or ugly? Oh, no! Did he close his flyer when he came back from the bathroom?!

Although Todoroki knew he did, in fact, close his flyer, he just thought what if he didn't and panicked. Why did this happen every time you were around? So since he couldn't understand what was going on, he asked someone else, a wise person. 

Izuku Midoriya was a wise person, right? 

So when Todoroki told him, he said he was asking for a friend and he thought this was one hell of an idea, how his friend felt about a certain someone, Midoriya told him that this was very similar to how Kacchan felt about him, too! 

Oh, Todoroki thought, then this must be hate.

Though this was very different from the hate he knew, the one he had for Endeavor, Todoroki wasn't going to doubt Midoriya's words, surely he knew better than him.

So with the realization of a lifetime, he had decided to avoid you at all costs, and he couldn't be more relieved. Though, so much to his relief, this didn't last long. The universe seemed to have a chat with his friends too, since they tried to bring them together every chance they had.

But he knew better, and he knew you weren't happy with how things were going either. He knew that because, although it somehow did hurt to admit, you had the same symptoms as him, and that meant you hated him too.

So when it was time for the laser tag day, he was stressed. A little too stressed for his mental health, too. He didn't know what to wear, whatever he wore felt odd and uncomfortable on him, though he had never once in his life felt this way. He hadn't even thought about clothes, more than five minutes. 

But today, he couldn't seem to decide on anything, his clothes, how he was going to part his hair (the middle shouto, how else?), what perfume he was going to wear, though Todoroki only had one.

He was a mess, and this was all because of you! Whatever he was doing, you were on his mind. He parted his hair from the left and could almost see you laughing at him, wore a turtleneck, and ended with the same dream. 

So after a few hours of internal screams and panic, he was furious with you. How you were able to control him this way from your room, though, was a mystery to him. He went down the stairs, everyone, including you, was waiting for him. It took one look at you to make his heart beat so fast that he felt dizzy. You had your classic ripped jeans and a sweatshirt -wait, did that belong to Bakugou?!- on and even something so basic looked pretty on you.

The long walk to the laser tag place was more than awkward, and everyone could see that. The big group was walking as fast as possible to leave the two behind, but apparently, Todoroki wasn't having it. Because the faster the group walked, Todoroki was walking even faster, and soon it seemed like the whole class was racing. 

So after ten minutes of sprinting -you could hear Bakugou screaming 'hah, I beat you, fucking Deku'- you had thought you could do without walking him to the laser tag place. So in defeated silence, Mina had accompanied you while the guys eyed Todoroki, trying to figure if he was that dumb. Your mood instantly went up when you had arrived at the place. 

Everyone wore their gears, and a war had started the minute you touched the gun. Even if you were planning on telling Todoroki your feelings before, now you only had one thing on your mind, coming in first. You weren't going to let Bakugou beat you once again. 

***

Todoroki was prepared for anything, and he liked that about him. But he was not ready for this.

His gaze wandered over you, he watched as you looked around, panic written all over your face. Your breath pace had picked up and you were so close to him that he could feel your breath on his face.

Not that he was complaining or anything.

Why wasn't he complaining? Didn't he hate you? Why couldn't he take his eyes off of you? It must be because you were his enemy, he thought. He had to watch your every move so he could always be alert, but somehow that didn't feel right. He wanted to watch you, not because he had to.

You gulped when you heard the footsteps getting closer, your eyes watching the silhouette of a certain angry boy. You were trying to be as quiet as possible, but Todoroki wondered if you could hear his heartbeat since it was beating way too hard, way too fast.

He wasn't even sure if you were aware of his presence, though right when he was about to lean his body over yours -he couldn't even explain himself why he did that- you stood up, screaming and running towards Bakugou, shooting anything that you saw, and somehow still weren't able to shoot Bakugou.

You had the cutest pout on your face when Bakugou shot you. "Ahhh!" You groaned. "But I had the perfect strategy and everything! Why can't I ever shoot you?" You asked him as he ruffled your hair. "Perfect strategy? Running and screaming while shooting everything blindly?" Todoroki had never seen Bakugou smile, let alone laugh, but he did just that, and knowing it was you who made him laugh felt odd like something was squeezing his heart. 

Todoroki was so focused on the sight in front of him, that he didn't even notice Kaminari walking towards him and shot him. "Hah, a point for Pikachu!" He screamed, which made Todoroki come out of his thoughts. "Oh," Todoroki said, sending a short look your way, feeling embarrassed. Why did you have to do this to him? He had spent many hours in his room that day because of you. Couldn't focus on the game too, and now, he had lost because of you? 

You just had to ruin his day, didn't you? 

He just felt like going back to the dorms now. So he turned to Ochako, telling her he wasn't going to the movies after this. "Oh," she said, looking nervous for some reason, "well, that's a shame. But uhh, could you stick around before going back? I'll be back in a minute." 

Todoroki shrugged, though he just wanted to go back now. 

***

When Ochako told you Todoroki had canceled, you felt your heart breaking. "I don't think I should tell him this today." You said you had a feeling that this wasn't going to work out. "Oh come on Y/N, you're just nervous. Go and tell him!" She said as she pushed you towards his direction. 

Though you could have sworn you saw distaste on Todoroki's face, you went towards him. Ochako was right, you were just nervous and imagining things. "Oh, um, hey Todoroki-kun." You said with a little smile, though he didn't smile back. "Hello." 

"I- I heard you're going back, and I wanted to- to tell you something." Oh my god, you thought, this was going bad. When he stayed silent, you finally said, "Todoroki-kun, I have- I have feelings for you!" You finally stated, feeling relief and nervousness both washing over you. 

"I know." He said finally, making your head snap up, your eyes finding his odd ones. "You- you do?" Bakugou had told you, you were a little too obvious, but you never thought- "And I also have feelings for you." 

"What?" You screamed. "You have feelings for me, too?" Was this actually happening? You were so happy, you hadn't noticed how emotionless his face was, or how stiff his shoulders were. "I never thought you liked me." You smiled, but your smile dropped a little when his eyes narrowed. "Like you? I don't like you, I hate you."

"Wait, what?" You had stopped suddenly, a feeling telling you, you both were talking about different things. "I hate you." Wow, he really didn't have to say that again, did he? "But- But you just told me..." Oh, now you understood what was going on. "I- I..." You stammered, feeling like your world was just falling apart. "I have to go." 

Todoroki didn't understand why you looked so sad. Didn't you just tell him you hated him too? That hurt him too, but he couldn't quite name why you looked so let down like he just slapped you or something. 

"Are you dumb?!" He heard Bakugou screaming as he ran after you. "How can you be so-" Todoroki didn't hear what he could be, cause Bakugou was already out the room. He felt everyone looking at him, and he had never felt worse. Why was everyone looking at him like he was Bakugou? 

***

"He hates me?" You said between your tears. The girls all looked so guilty, feeling so bad since they were the ones that encouraged you. They couldn't even console you, cause how could they console you after those words? 

"This is all my fault," Ochako said, feeling like she was about to cry too. "I was the one who made you do it, though, you told me you didn't want to!" 

"No 'Chako!" You panicked, "You were just trying to do the right thing! And even though this is... well, bad, now I don't have to get my hopes up whenever he looks at me and move on!"

As on cue, you heard a knock on the door. You stood up, thinking it was probably Bakugou, who had left earlier to get your favorite snack. "Thank god you're-" You opened the door to someone other than Bakugou. "Back..." Your eyes widened, you were in your worst form ever, eyes red and swollen, hair a mess, and you probably reeked of Redbull and Doritos. 

"What are you doing here?" You asked, voice as cold as possible. "I- I think we misunderstood each other today, and I have to talk to you." He tried to ignore the deadly glares you friends were sending him. 

"I don't think you left much space for misunderstanding." You mumbled but closed the door behind you nevertheless. "Y/N, I-" He started, but you stopped him. "I'm not doing this in front of other people again, let's go somewhere more private." 

He shook his head and followed you. You had taken him to the roof, a place he didn't often visit but liked a lot. "Okay." You told him finally, feeling grateful for the cold breeze that made you feel slightly better. 

"Today I-" he looked directly in your eyes, "I was very rude, and I took your words in a wrong way." 

Well, duh. When you stayed silent, he went on.

"I wasn't surprised when you told me you had feelings towards me, but the feelings you were talking about was different than what I understood." Did he have to look so handsome while he was breaking your heart? "But that was because I always thought you hated me." 

"I can't say I don't, now." You answered, making him wince. "I can't blame you, and I'm so-" You sighed. "Before you say you're oh- so- sorry, you have to tell me why you thought I hated you." 

"I- I-" he stammered, and you felt a little bad since you had never seen Todoroki this confused. "Because I thought I hated you." 

Thought?

"I hope you know that that doesn't make any sense."  He looked at you like you just punched him. "I know... What I mean is-" He looked away. "I always thought what I felt towards you was hate, because I couldn't understand these feelings. I asked someone and they told me this could be hate! But apparently, it was something else I didn't realize, that this was... love." 

"Wait, what?" This was the second time today you had this reaction. "I always felt odd around you. I felt self-conscious, whenever you looked at me or talked to me, I wondered if I looked weird or made you uncomfortable, or if you didn't like me. I felt like everything I did was wrong, and you were always on my mind. Whenever I was in a room, I looked for you, when you were around I couldn't take my eyes off you, and I always had this... This feeling in my chest when something was about you."

"You have to understand, these feelings are new to me." He said as he got closer to you. "And since I wasn't able to understand what they were, when someone told me this could be hate, I believed them... I shouldn't have, I have broken your heart, and I'm sorry." He whispered his apology, sending goosebumps down your body. "I'm so, so sorry." 

You felt a small smile finding it’s place on your lips, and you didn’t know whether you should laugh at him and his bluntness, or if you should just kiss him right then and there.

"If you tell me the person you asked was Iida or Kaminari I'll laugh and/or punch you." His cheeks were beat red. "It was Midoriya." 

"That's even worse!" 

***

"Shouto, I have a question." You said, still feeling your heart beating faster when you called your boyfriend with his first name. "Yes, darling?" 

"How did you understand you didn't hate me, but actually... like me?" He shuffled in his place, obviously uncomfortable with answering it. His arm around you held you tighter like he was trying to stop you from leaving him with the answer he was about to tell. "It was Bakugou who came to my dorm that night." He said. "He was furious and asked me quote-unquote what the fuck was wrong with me. When I told him, well, everything, he didn't know if he should beat me or throw me out the window."

"Ooh," you said, trying to hold your laugh. "So, that was where he went."

[emy-loves-you]

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays (Chapter 7)

Happy Halloween!

Warning: Minor burns

Chapter 6 | Masterlist | Chapter 8

V- (8:04 AM) Happy first day of Halloween!

L- (8:05 AM) Virgil, it’s October 1st. Halloween isn’t for another 30 days.

V- (8:05 AM) We must be celebrating different holidays. Halloween lasts from October 1st to October 31st. For the entire month, you watch cheesy Halloween movies and decorate your home in black, purple, and orange. Spiders and bats become your daily esthetic. There are no exceptions to this rule.

P- (8:06 AM) I have arachnophobia and most of our decorations are green. Is that alright, Kiddo?

V- (8:06 AM) … There is one exception.

L- (8:07 AM) This is preposterous.

R- (8:07 AM) Calm down, Specs. Let our Dark and Stormy Knight have his holiday. We don’t want another incident of Pi Day, do we?

V- (8:08 AM) What happened on Pi Day?

P- (8:08 AM) Logan wanted to spend the day memorizing as many digits of Pi as possible. Roman told him that Pi day was only for baking pies. Logan decided to etch as many digits of pi as he could fit into the crust of a pie before baking it. Sadly, baking isn’t Lolo’s exPIEtise.

R- (8:09 AM) He almost burnt the house down. It was hilarious.

L- (8:09 AM) I will back down from this argument, if only to preserve my dignity. Since you decided to text us at 8 AM, I assume that you have plans to celebrate your “first day of Halloween?”

V- (8:10 AM) Yep. I’ve got my Scooby-Doo VHS tapes, an entire gallon of iced coffee, and enough decorations to cover every square inch of my house. Life is good.

R- (8:11 AM) Wait which tapes?

V- (8:11 AM) Zombie Island, Witch’s Ghost, Alien Invaders, and Cyber Chase. The 4 best Scooby-Doo movies to ever exist.

R- (8:12 AM) Now I REALLY wanna watch Scooby-Doo

V- (8:12 AM) What’s stopping you?

L- (8:12 AM) The desire to have a stable income

R- (8:13 AM) I’m starring as Van Helsing for our theatre’s production of Dracula. I’ve got rehearsals and performances almost every night.

V- (8:13 AM) Sorry. I’ll watch it in your stead.

R- (8:14 AM) Gee, how thoughtful of you

(October 8th)

L- (2:32 PM) Virgil, did you seriously buy MORE chocolates?

V- (2:32 PM) Do you like them?

L- (2:32 PM) That’s not the point.

L- (2:33 PM) This is the 7th set of sweets you’ve sent us in the past 8 weeks. First of all, this is extremely unhealthy. Second of all, how much money have you spent on these? Third of all, you tend to send chocolates specifically when you’re planning something that we disapprove of. So what, pray tell, are you planning this time?

V- (2:34 PM) Wow, I didn’t realize you were keeping track of that.

L- (2:34 PM) I keep track of everything. Quit ignoring the questions.

V- (2:35 PM) Okay. First of all, if they make you happy it doesn’t matter. Second of all, if it makes you happy it doesn’t matter. Third of all, if it makes you happy it doesn’t matter :)

L- (2:35 PM) …

V- (2:35 PM) Besides, you wouldn’t want me to STOP sending you sweets, would you?

L- (2:36 PM) … Curse you and your knowledge of my sweets addiction.

V- (2:36 PM) :)

(October 15th)

L- (5:47 PM) VIRGIL!

V- (5:48 PM) Hm?

L- (5:48 PM) DID YOU SERIOUSLY TP OUR HOUSE?!?!?

V- (5:49 PM) You have no proof

L- (5:50 PM) [*Photo Attachment*]

[The photo is of a door. There is a square of TP taped to the door, the words “VIRGIL WAS TOTALLY NOT HERE” written in sharpie]

V- (5:50 PM) See? I was totally not there.

V- (5:51 PM) And I sent you pre-apology chocolates, so you can’t get mad!

L- (5:52 PM) I CAN STILL GET MAD

V- (5:52 PM) NO YOU WON’T OR I’LL STOP GETTING YOU CHOCOLATES

L- (5:53 PM) YOU WOULDN’T

V- (5:53 PM) TRY ME BITCH

R- (5:55 PM) I don’t know WHAT you did, but Logan called me, screeched your name, and hung up. Keep up the good work, storm cloud ;)

(October 22nd)

V- (3:42 PM) Hey Pat?

P- (3:42 PM) What’s up, Kiddo?

V- (3:42 PM) You bake, right?

P- (3:43 PM) It would be very hard to run a bakery if I couldn’t, Kiddo!

V- (3:43 PM) True

V- (3:43 PM) So what do you do if your cookies catch on fire?

P- (3:43 PM) WHAT

V- (3:44 PM) [*Photo Attachment*]

[The photo is of an oven. The door is open, and inside is a tray of Pillsbury ghost sugar cookies. They are all on fire]

P- (3:44 PM) PUT IT OUT

V- (3:44 PM) HOW

P- (3:45 PM) DON’T YOU HAVE A FIRE EXTINGUISHER?!?!

V- (3:45 PM) WON’T THAT RUIN THE COOKIES?

P- (3:45 PM) THOSE COOKIES ARE GONERS. ACCEPT YOUR LOSS

V- (3:46 PM) [*Photo attachment*]

[The photo is of the same oven. The door is still open, yet the entire inside of the oven is covered in foam]

V- (3:46 PM) Now what?

P- (3:46 PM) First of all, turn off the oven.

V- (3:47 PM) Done

P- (3:47 PM) Okay. Now answer me this: HOW THE FUDGE DID YOU MANAGE TO CATCH PREMADE SUGAR COOKIES ON FIRE???

V- (3:48 PM) I DON’T KNOW! I JUST PUT THEM IN THE OVEN AND SUDDENLY THEY WERE ON FIRE

L- (3:48 PM) Are you alright, Virgil? Did you sustain any burns or other injuries?

P- (3:48 PM) HOLY STARS I SHOULD’VE ASKED! ARE YOU OKAY VIRGIL?

V- (3:49 PM) I’m fine. I burned my wrist but it’s not that bad.

L- (3:49 PM) Will you please send a picture of your injury?

V- (3:49 PM) [*Photo attachment*]

[The photo is of a left hand. The hand is long, slender, and pale. The nails are long and painted black with cat noses and whiskers. The person’s wrist has a minor burn wound, around the size of a golf ball]

L- (3:50 PM) You are correct, Virgil. It appears to be a minor burn, no need to contact the hospital. However, I would greatly appreciate it if you tend to your burn at your earliest convenience.

P- (3:50 PM) Go wrap up that burn, kiddo! Make sure you add burn cream, too!

P- (3:51 PM) AND OH MY GOSH I LOVE YOUR NAILS! They’re PAWsitively PURRfect!

L- (3:51 PM) Please stop

P- (3:52 PM) Alright. Wouldn’t wanna have a CATastrophe, would we?

L- (3:52 PM) Please. I beg of you.

V- (3:53 PM) Okay, all patched up. What do I do about my cookies?

L- (3:53 PM) Make sure your oven has fully cooled down before attempting to clean it.

P- (3:54 PM) AND DON’T DO THAT EVER AGAIN, MISTER!

P- (3:54 PM) You nearly gave me a heart attack!

V- (3:55 PM) Sorry, won’t happen again.

L- (3:55 PM) I assume that this means you will be buying post-apology sweets? I assure you that it is unnecessary, Virgil. Your health and safety are more important than confectionaries.

L- (3:57 PM) Virgil?

L- (3:57 PM) Please refrain from buying more sweets.

L- (3:58 PM) I’ve already gained 3.4 pounds alone from these “Gifts”

V- (3:58 PM) Too late, already bought them

P- (3:58 PM) You don’t have to, Kiddo!

P- (3:59 PM) And Lolo, don’t blame V on your weight gain. I know Ro’s not the only one sneaking whole jars of jelly from the cabinets at night.

L- (3:59 PM) Virgil, how much are you spending on these sweets?

V- (4:00 PM) Would it help if I said that I get a discount since I purchase chocolates almost weekly?

L- (4:00 PM) VIRGIL

V- (4:01 PM) :)

R- (6:58 PM) Why does all the interesting stuff happen while I’m at work?

V- (6:59 PM) Get wrecked Princey

R- (6:59 PM) :(

V- (7:00 PM) Don’t worry I got you sweets too

R- (7:00 PM) :)

(October 24th)

L- (2:32 PM) VIRGIL!

V- (2:33 PM) Did you get your sweets? Send me a pick! I didn’t get to see the end result

P- (2:33 PM) [*Photo Attachment*]

[The photo is of three vases, each of different colors. The light blue vase is filled with tulips made of white chocolate. There are also chocolate-covered straberry and a giant chocolate lollipop with the words “I appreciate you a chocoLOT!” The red vase is filled with milk chocolate roses and another chocolate lollipop that says “Good luck slaying Vampires!” The navy blue vase is the most elaborate (probably just to mess with Logan). It’s filled with dark chocolate tulips AND roses, with a whole jar of crofters nestled into the middle of the bouquet. It’s lollipop reads “Weight and Cost are just #s!”]

P- (2:34 PM) These are ADORABLE, Virgil!

L- (2:34 PM) How much did you spend on this, Virgil?

V- (2:34 PM) Did you not read your lollipop?

V- (2:35 PM) Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t buy the chocolates if I couldn’t afford them :)

L- (2:35 PM) My digestive system can’t afford them.

V- (2:36 PM) Well I couldn’t give you pre-apology chocolates so I had to give you epic post-apology chocolates.

P- (2:37 PM) Well, I cannot wait to eat these! Seriously, I’ve already eaten half a tulip. And these vases will look so pretty holding ACTUAL flowers! Thank you so much, V! But remember, you don’t have to do this. We don’t need apology sweets!

V- (2:38 PM) I know, but it’s comforting to know that there’s at least ONE way I can interact with you guys beyond texting. I’m sorry that I’m still not comfortable talking face-to-face yet.

P- (2:38 PM) That’s completely fine, Kiddo! Take all the time you need. We’ll be here when you’re ready.

L- (2:39 PM) I agree.Though I still do not see the purpose of excessive spending on our behalf.

R- (2:39 PM) Well I find it extremely thoughtful, storm cloud. I would type an entire ballad of how caring and kind you are, but I must get back to work. I shall speak with you tonight, fair raven.

V- (2:40 PM) Thanks, guys. It means a lot to me.

(October 31st)

L- (10:17 AM) How are you feeling about your “final day of Halloween,” Virgil?

V- (10:18 AM) Incredibly depressed

P- (10:18 AM) Aww. Why’s that, Kiddo?

V- (10:19 AM) You guys know how I travel around with my friends, right?

V- (10:19 AM) Well apparently we have to travel out today. We won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon.

R- (10:20 AM) I’m deeply sorry, my precious stormcloud. If I may ask, why do you have to travel tonight?

V- (10:20 AM) My friends like to go to parties out of town, and I go to make sure they don’t get themselves killed.

P- (10:21 AM) I’m sorry you have to miss Halloween, Kiddo. I know how much you were looking forward to it.

V- (10:22 AM) I’m still gonna wear my costume. Just because I can’t celebrate at home doesn’t mean I can’t celebrate at all.

L- (10:22 AM) What costume have you decided to wear?

V- (10:23 AM) [*Photo attachment*]

[Photo is the bottom half of someone’s face. They’re smiling, with black lipstick and fake Vampire teeth. There’s red liquid running down their chin.]

P- (10:23 AM) That looks FANGtastic, Virgil!

L- (10:23 AM) I hope you have an amenable experience at the party, Virgil.

R- (10:24 AM) I agree! You look amazing and I hope you enjoy the party, storm cloud. Do not worry, I will watch The Nightmare Before Christmas in your stead!

V- (10:25 AM) Wow I feel so grateful

R- (10:25 AM) :)

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

Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst

[haymaker-mva]

A different choice, a different chance

Part 1/2: Desperada

So I've fucking given up on my “mental health break.” No sleep for the wicked!

This fic’s pretty much, “What if Marinette picked Luka for the snake miraculous first, and what would happen if that led to her realizing that what she was pretty much a stalker?”

Enjoy the fic that my brain spawned and would not let me leave alone!

1 - 2

“W-wow…” Alya stuttered in surprise. “It never hit me that the plans we did messed with others… It just seemed so harmless at the time…”

“That’s the same thought I had. It seemed like just being a schoolgirl with a crush, but I really have gone too far, haven’t I?”

-

Ladybug looked between Adrien Agreste and Luka Couffine. She had one snake miraculous, and two guys to choose from. After casting her luck charm, Ladybug had gone to get backup, telling Adrien and Luka to go hide. She set up Luka’s guitar with the pigeons and escaped. She quickly retrieved the snake miraculous from Master Fu, and went on her way. As she flew back through the city, Ladybug’s mind drifted.

For some strange reason that seemed specifically like a crush, Mainette had chosen Adrien to play with Jagged instead of Luka, who was much more suited for the job. The guilt ate at Marinette, but Ladybug had to get her head in the game.

Ladybug slid into the sewers again, and began calling out to Luka and Adrien. She had to make sure they were safe, and perhaps give one of them the miraculous she currently held if her instincts were leading her the right way.

She heard Luka answer her, and she made her way towards his voice and quickly found them in a normal tunnel. Adrien and Luka were both there, though they seemed quite a bit worried.

Now back to where we were. Ladybug looked between Adrien and Luka. Her heart ached for her to choose Adrien, but her instincts pulled her towards Luka. She was so close to giving Adrien the snake… but then the guilt from Marinette’s earlier mistake smacked her in the brain. Ladybug shook her head to clear her thoughts, and grabbed Adrien’s wrist.

“Luka, go hide around that corner. I have to hide Adrien somewhere else, I’ll be back to make sure you’re safe.”

-

Adrien ran through the sewers with Luka, just trying to get away from the akuma. Every time Adrien tried to lag behind or get lost around a corner, Luka would find him and make sure they weren’t separated. It was nice to have a friend that cared so much, but Adrien needed to become Chat Noir, and Luka was making it ten times harder!

After Kwami knows how long of this, Ladybug found them again thanks to Luka’s loud voice. Adrien could tell what this was; Ladybug went to get backup. He knew his partner. A tiny war waged in his head. On one hand, being chosen by Ladybug would be great. But on the other hand, Adrien was Chat Noir, and being chosen would not be so great.

So when Ladybug pulled him aside, his heart both sank and soared. His Lady truste him outside of the mask too…! But he needed to be Chat Noir…

Ladybug pulled them into a locker room, and paused to catch her breath. She opened a locker, and motioned for him to get inside.

What?

Ladybug wasn’t choosing him? So what was she doing? Noticing the confusion on Adrien’s face, Ladybug elaborated.

“I needed to spit you two up to make it harder for Desperada to get you both in one go. I also need to find that dang cat, and find some backup,” Ladybug griped. She collected herself and let out a breath. “Anyway, go hide and only come out when you see the ladybugs.” Ladybug waved and ran out of the locker room, shutting the door behind her and leaving Adrien conflicted.

Was it good or bad that Ladybug didn’t give his alter ego another miraculous?

-

Soon the fight was over and the miraculous ladybug was cast, and everything was back to normal. Well, not exactly. Seeds of doubt had been planted in Marinette’s head…

-

As Marinette sat on her bed after the fight, she replayed a lot of scenes in her head. All of them about Adrien. All the times she messed something up, hurt someone, or sacrificed something because of him,in one way or another. There were too many times. Heck, it happened just that day with Luka and playing with Jagged!

Marinette’s mind flashed back to the day that Manon got akumatized into Puppeteer the second time. Adrien had specifically mentioned loving another girl, as well as indirectly and almost actually rejecting her.

All of a sudden, she felt stupid.

He never loved her, and she didn’t want to hurt yet another person, especially him, trying to obtain Adrien’s affections. Marinette frowned sadly. She really had hurt so many people. Granted, she always apologized and fixed things. Take Kagami for example! They got orange juice together pretty much every week. But that didn’t change the fact that she had still hurt people with her stalkerish schemes.

And looking at her wall, she followed the thought that she had also crossed over into stalker territory. Not just her wall, Marinette had even stolen his phone at one point! Gotten his bodyguard in trouble! Invaded his room as Ladybug, and took full advantage of his trust in her. She wasn’t even properly friends with him; she could barely speak a word in his presence!

Marinette facepalmed. How could she ever have dreamed of dating a guy that she couldn’t talk to? She remembered something her mother told her a long time ago, when she had started liking guys.

“Remember, Marinette. Don’t choose the better guy, choose the guy that makes you the better girl. Never go for the one that brings the worst out in you. It’ll only lead to disaster if you can’t control yourself.”

Marinette had never really taken that advice into consideration, because of her short list of crushes. But now it was all she could think of. Why did she even like Adrien? She could barely recall. She told herself it was his personality, the kindness he displayed, the trust he had in others… But that was just his naivety, wasn’t it? She liked him because he was afraid of losing his friends by being anything but polite. Adrien only went after her so that she wouldn’t hate him. Their class was small, of course he wouldn’t want to have any enemies.

Marinette slapped her cheeks. She wouldn’t think bad of Adrien. Even if he was her crush, and she was a bad one herself, he was still her friend.

I think I need to call Alya.

-

“I think I’ve gone too far with Adrien.” Was the first words that rushed out of her mouth. Cringing at the implication, she rephrased. “As in, my crush has gone too far.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where is this coming from?” Alya responded.

“I chose Adrien today. To play guitar. Over Luka, who is literally in a popular band, and would you look at that! Plays a guitar.” Marinette deadpanned, sitting down in her desk chair. “I’ve also conspired with Chloe to ruin Kagami’s dress, stolen his phone, gotten his bodyguard in trouble with a police officer, literally have his schedule mapped out and memorized, and my walls are covered in his face. And that’s just to start.” The words tumbled out of her, and though she knew it was bad, seeing it all out on the table was unsettling. Knowing she had done all that.

She really was a stalker at this point.

“W-wow…” Alya stuttered in surprise. “It never hit me that the plans we did messed with others… It just seemed so harmless at the time…”

“That’s the same thought I had. It seemed like just being a schoolgirl with a crush, but I really have gone too far, haven’t I?” Marinette said, placing the phone in front of her computer, which was displaying Adrien’s face.

She put her face in her hands, elbows resting on the desk.

“I think we’ve all gone too far.” Alya stated, surprising Marinette. “My job as your bestie is to even you out and tell you when it’s time to calm down. But I didn’t even notice.”

“Nonono, Alya it’s not your fault I went crazy.” Marinette told her best friend. It really wasn’t any of her friends' fault. “Let’s move past that though. What now?”

“Huh?”

“What do I do now? I can’t let this keep happening. Something needs to change.”

“Maybe tone down your advances? Get rid of the schedule? This doesn’t mean you have to give up, it just tells us that we need to rethink our strategy” Alya suggested.

“I… I think I have to move on.”

“What?! Why?” Alya exclaimed. Marinette could imagine her face, Alya’s eyes wide and her glasses slightly slipping.

“Face it Al’s, I can’t even talk to him. He loves another girl, and that girl is most likely Kagami. And she and him are possibly dating. I’m still friends with her, I can’t ruin their relationship.” Marinette sighed, her mind conjuring up Kagami and hers’ orange juice meetups. Marinette couldn’t do that to someone she considered a friend. A rival in love would be okay, but Kagami had clearly won over Adrien. So, Marinette had to move on.

“I… It’s just strange to think about you not being in love with Adrien.” Alya puzzled.

“Honestly, I understand the feeling.” Marinette took a deep breath and leaned back in her chair. She snapped forward, “But we’re gonna have to get used to it!” She declared, standing up and bringing her arms up determinately.

From that point forward, she really did.

1 - 2

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

For the Fairy tale au what about yandere prince!giorno with cinderella!reader? Giorno could convince everyone he's rescuing them from their life. Or you could do yandere prince giorno with sleeping beauty reader, where reader doesn't wake up after being kissed, instead waking up in the palace chained up. Naturally if you don't like this request feel free to ignore it, or if you want to use other characters that's fine too. I hope you feel better soon! Your mental health is important!

Thanks for your support anyway here it is.

Prince charming

(yandere Giorno Giovanna X Female Reader)

You were always a happy and humble girl. You always looked towards the bright side of any situation, even after all the hardships you had faced. To you every day was a new beginning

You let out a sigh as you wiped the sweat off your forehead and marveled at the marble floor that you had spent hours cleaning only for it so all be ruined when you stepmother and stepsisters walked all over it with their dirty shoes.

"I can't wait for the ball, to meet the prince would be a dream" Abigail mused as she twirled in her beautiful dress.

"Oh just imagine it, the sweet music that would play as you looked into his saphire eyes" Teresa wooed as she followed her sister.

"What's happening?" You asked them and they gave you a look of disgust.

"None of your business cinderface!" They spat.

"Oh dear girls don't be so harsh on her, we should at least give her a chance" your step mother spoke in such a sweet voice.

"What?!" The twins gasped in horror, none of you had ever heard her speak so nicely to you.

"She can come... But only if she cleans through the whole mansion... And manages to get herself a suitable dress before Friday afternoon" she said and your stepsisters cracked up while you felt you stomach twist, you only had three days.

🐞🐞🐞

You watched your step relatives from the attic window that you had just cleaned. Today your sisters had planned to get their dresses and of course you weren't included in such affairs, you never were and you didn't mind it. You were just content with the few little things around you.

Even if you were able to go to the ball. The prince wouldn't spare a moment for a housemaid like you but still some sort of urge to see the prince in person was there, maybe you just wanted to see the male in which your step sisters gushed over.

You were soon brought out of your thoughts by a sudden thud. You wiped your head to the side to see that one of the many boxes  had falled off of one of the shelves. You walked to it and flipped it over to put the fabric back inside only to find it was a dress with a large sum of money folded in it as well as an envelope with your name.

You opened it to see the old letter, the paper yellowed with age.

To my dear (Y/n)

This is my present to you on your eighteenth birthday.

I wish you the most luck my blessed child and I wish I could have watched you grow up to be the beautiful woman you are today but alas while I write this letter to you my body grows weak and my memories slowly fade.

I love you and even thou I am no longer alive my soul still watches over you.

From your loving mother

Your eyes began to tear up as you finished the letter. You missed your parents. They use to shower you with their love and attention. This seemed like a sign that you mother was watching over you. The dress itself was a bit old and plain but with the money you could buy some stuff to make alterations.

You quickly finished cleaning up the attic before putting the dress on a mannequin and placing it in your room before grabbing the money and leaving the house to go to the nearby town and buying anything you thought would look nice to add to the dress.

Once you got home you quickly finished up the rest of the duties with a whole day to spare.

🐞🐞🐞

The day of the ball arrived and you grew ever so excited for the night to come. You helped your step sisters get into their gowns, of course they had to make a huge fuss about how you weren't doing something right but it didn't bother you in the slightest.

"So (Y/n) did you manage to get yourself a dress?" Teresa snickered.

"Yes I did actually" you replied which caused her to nearly choke on air.

"Really now (Y/n)... Care to show us?" Your step mother asked in a cynical tone.

"Of course" you replied before going to your room and changed into it before coming back in to show them.

"Where did you get that from?" Abigail asked in a snarky tone.

"In the attic I found a box with this dress in it along with some money, so I used it to make a few alterations" you explained.

"So you stole from me?" Your step mother hissed.

"No I'd never do such a thing, in the box was a letter from my mother... It was supposed to be my eighteenth birthday present" you explained as she stormed towards you.

"Lies! After all I've done for you!" She screamed as she ripped the sleeve of your dress.

"You're nothing but a disrespectful brat!" She said as she tackled you to the ground and began to tear your dress to shreds.

"You are nothing but a thief!" She  roared as she got up before fixing up your hair.

"Abigail, Teresa. We will be leaving to the ball now" she sighed.

"And as for you (Y/n)... You will be punished for what you have done when we return" she hissed as she along with her daughters left the room as they made their way to the carriage waiting for them, leaving you as a teary mess on the floor.

You cried and cried, uncertain as to why you'd be accuse of such a thing. Until a bright light emitted from the room. When you looked up you saw an orb of light like a giant star.

"Dry your tears my dear...you have done no wrong" a ghostly voice said.

"What are you?" You asked only for the voice to let out a light chuckle.

"I promised you my soul would watch over your my child" they replied.

"Mother?" You asked.

"Yes it's me dear, now I wish to help you"

"But how?" You asked.

"Come to the garden, then I'll tell you what I need" she replied before floating out the room.

You stood up and began to follow the orb of light though the house until you entered the garden.

"Now my dear. I need you to find me a pumpkin, a frog and four mice" she explained. You did have doubt in catching the animals she had requested but it seemed that they instantly came towards you.

"I see the animals can sense that you have a pure heart, they seem eager to help" your mother explained. You quickly ran to the vegetable garden and picked out the largest pumpkin. You struggled to carry it but you absolutely refused to drop it.

"I have everything mom, what now?" You asked before the pumpkin in your hand turned to solid gold causing you to drop it and it quickly grew til it was the size of a shed. Then it morphed into a carriage, the mice turned into horses and the frog turned into a stumpy little man. You nearly fell back in suprise but some invisible force caught you.

Your dress mended itself and turned into a beautiful white  gown, a pair of glass heels slipped onto your feet and a white mask appeared on your face.

"Now (Y/n) before you head to the ball you must understand two conditions, the spell will wear of at the stroke of midnight and if your mask is removed then the spell will also fade" she said before the stumpy man lead you to the carriage.

"Thank you mother" you said to the wisp before you hopped in.

🐞🐞🐞

You looked out the window as the carriage approached the castle that loomed in the distance. It was like a fairy tale, it was like you were in a fairy tale. The carriage eventually halted and a servant escorted you into the castle grounds where many chatted away.

"Wow your dress is so beautiful miss" a familiar voice said. You turned your head to see Teresa.

"Who made it?" Abigail asked, obviously the two didn't realise it was you.

"My mother made it" you replied and the two girls laughed.

"You just like our step sister" Teresa said.

"She does, but we know your not her... She couldn't get a dress like that" Abigail snickered before they walked of.

'That was a close call' you thought, maybe the mask was magic or maybe the two were just stupid but you thanked God they hadn't noticed.

You simply watched as men and women danced the night away, sitting by the sidelines until someone tapped your shoulder.

"What is a beautiful woman such as yourself standing around here, surely someone would ask you to dance with them" asked the male beside you who's hair was like strands of gold and eyes were like sapphires.

"This is my first time attending a ball" you explained to him.

"Really?" The male asked in suprise.

"Yes... I'm but a simple house maid" you explained.

"Then would you care to dance with me?" He asked.

"Oh, I haven't danced in years... I don't want to make you look like a fool Infront of everyone" you said.

"Who said we had to dance in the ball room" the male replied as he led you away from the crowd and up the winding stairs until you reached an atrium where various plants grew and flowers bloomed in every corner.

"I can teach you how to dance" the male said in a sweet voice as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Place your hands on my shoulders" he guided and you followed.

"Good, now when I step back you should step forward and vice versa"  he said and you tried to follow his but eventually stepped on his foot.

"Ow" he groaned.

"I'm sorry I didn't-"

"No you don't need to apologize, I know you didn't mean to... It's just part of the learning process" he chuckled before you tried again and in no time more you breezed through the complex moves. You both danced and danced until you saw your stepmother watching you from a distance, you were about to speak up until the male pressed his lips against yours and you quickly pushed him away.

"Senorita, what's the matter?" He asked.

"We only just met..." You muttered.

"But can't you feel our connection? When I first laid eyes on you I felt in, love at first sight" he explained.

"No... Such a thing only exists in fairytales" you responded.

"Well let it be our fairytale... You should stay with me, as my princess... You'll never have to go back to being a house maid" he said in such a sickeningly sweet tone as he tried to get you back in his hands, but you kept backing away.

"No... No!" You argued before making a run for it.

"Wait, please wait!" He called as he followed you.

"No I can't be with you! It isn't right for either of us" you yelled back as your ran down the stairs case, one of your glass slippers falling off in the process, you quickly tried to retrieve it but the prince grabbed your arm.

"Don't be like this" he cooed before trying to take your mask off but as he did it began to crack like china. You pushed away from him again and tried to run. You pushed through the crowd desperately and tried to reach the the exit but the guards quickly grabbed you.

"Let me go! I don't want this!" You screamed on the top of you lungs. All eyes were on you in astonishment as you were being dragged to the prince.

"Cara mia, please don't make a scene" the male said as you were pushed towards him however in that moment a miracle happened, a chandelier fell down between you and the Prince. You took your chance to run as the guards let go of you. You finally got through the door and ran to the carriage with not a care to the rubble that pierced your bare foot as the ring of the clock began to count down to the stroke of midnight. The carriage only got you so far until everything reverted to its original form but it was enough for you to get away from the castle.

🐞🐞🐞

You woke up the next morning and headed to the kitchen to cook breakfast only to find a stranger already preparing it.

"Who are you?" You asked the lady.

"I'm the new house maid" she replied.

"Wait since-" you were quickly silenced by your stepmother.

"We were never short on money... I was just so greedy that I didn't want to pay for a house maid" your stepmother said in a guilty tone.

"I'm so sorry for being so harsh on you for all these years... After seeing the way you charmed prince Giovanna I realised that I treated you so unfairly" he said as she stroked your hair, the mentioning of the prince.

"Please... Don't let anyone find out" you pleaded.

"I won't, but I don't understand why you wouldn't leave us after all the terrible things we did to you?" she said

"I was fine with living the life I had, I know that others may have it worse off... all I wanted to do that night was see a real ball, not attract the attention of a lovesick prince" you explained before she took you to the dinning room.

🐞🐞🐞

From there all seemed good, your step relatives treated you kindly and your step mother had plans for you all to move to a nicer mansion outside of the kingdom.

You had packed up the last of your belongings when someone had knocked on the door, naturally you opened it, your poor heart nearly exploded as you saw prince Giovanna at your doorstep along with two of his guards.

"Good morning" the male greeted as he held the glass slipper you lost.

"Go...good morning your majesty" you stuttered as you bowed Infront of him.

"You seem suprised, I'm sure you must of heard that every woman in the kingdom is obligated to try on the glass slipper" he said.

"No, no it's just that you caught us in the middle of packing but I'm sure my sister's will be down any minute" you explained as you tried to get your sisters but the prince grabbed your arm.

"Then why don't you try it on while we wait for them" he said in a stern tone as his hold on you grew tighter.

"I wasn't at the ball... I twisted my ankle" you lied.

"Then let me see" he asked. Bit your lip as you forcedly twisted your ankle, you tried your best to hide the pain before showing him your leg.

"See, it's twisted" you said causing the male to sigh.

"I see then" he said before looking up to see your sisters who were more then eager to try on the slipper, however you noticed the droplets of blood that  trailed behind them. Abigail had cut off her big toe and Teresa had cut off the back of her heel, both in an attempt to make up for their cruelty towards you for all these years.

They sat down. Abigail was the first to try on the slipper and it fit the the prince's delight but as the prince looked at the shoe on her foot more closely he saw the blood.

"Are you mocking me!" The male growled at her causing her to cower away. Then Teresa tried it on and it fit but one of the guards soon pointed out the blood that dripped from the back of the shoe which enraged the prince.

"You both think you can play with my heart! the girl that I desire did not try to impress me!" He hissed with a voice full of venom. You just hoped that that was the end of it and he would just leave but you quickly noticed one of the guards had vanished, how long had he been gone for?

Soon they had returned with the other glass slipper which made your blood freeze.

"Well then... It seems we have the other slipper, since your other foot is fine (Y/n) why don't you try it?" He asked.

"I'd rather not" you said before the two guards forced you to sit, holding you in place as the prince placed the shoe on your foot, a perfect fit.

"Why did you put me on a wild goose chase to find you?" He asked.

"Because I don't want to marry you, love at first sight in madness!" You explained.

"Well I think your just too modest for your own good, or maybe your family have a role in this" he explained as an evil gleam formed in your eye.

"You mentioned you were a housemaid if I remember correctly... But you are meant to be a noble in blood, am I correct?" He asked.

You gave the prince no response.

"Did your step relatives work you like a slave?" He asked again.

"No-"

"They treated you below them did they not?" He asked again as he cut off your previous answer. You gave him no response as you looked away from him.

"Your step sisters tried to rob you of a happily ever after" he said.

"They probably made you feel unworthy of love" he continued.

"Stop it! They had nothing to do with it!" You screamed.

"You're just a poor degraded mess... You don't know even know your true worth" he explained before he planted a kiss on your lips.

"Don't worry I'll have them pay for how they treated you"

"No!" You screamed.

"(Y/n) you just don't understand... I'm the prince charming that is rescuing you" he explained. Before he left. You knew that it wasn't the last of him but you never expected him to go to the lengths that he did.

The whole kingdom was told that your step relatives were abusive. That they treated you like a slave, that they beat you, they locked you in a basement and starved you. None of it was true but the whole kingdom believed it and eventually you were forced to marry prince Giorno.

In the night of your wedding he presented you his gift... To watch your step relatives dance on a floor of coals and barbwire as the townspeople heckled and howled, screaming words of hatred to those innocent women until they died.

[chaoticneutralwriter]

Third Act: Patience

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. - 1 Corinthians 13:4-5

guardian demon!jimin x reader

genre: fluff, angst, supernatural, romance, comedy, slice of life

word count: 5.1k

Related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon!jimin

Continuation of the events following Jamais Vu + Interlude: Second Best

A/N: SOOO this is surprisingly quite shorter than I had planned because i was actually gonna put together two acts in this chapter but then i thought against it by the end because it would ruin my aesthetic of the story LOL PLUS more to read for these trying times. On that note, i hope you guys enjoy this nevertheless and that you’re all doing well, stay healthy and safe!

Tags! @cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatinagirl @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b @jiminstinct @beautifulparisiangirl​

The rest of the night was a blur in your memories. You vaguely remember exiting the arena in a daze, robotically moving with the flow of the crowd and ending up outside. The night air doesn’t shock you as much as it should from being in a stuffy place for so long, the reason being never really did leave your mind and it only makes you worry your bottom lip.

Eventually, Rosa finds you after blowing your phone up with all of her messages that weren’t able to get through from the weak signal; first crushing you into a hug and asking if you were okay, apologizing for having lost you when really, it was your fault and once you assured her that you were, proceeded to squeal with unbridled emotions while shaking you, still crushed against her.

It pulls a small smile out of you, wheezing a laugh before she finally puts you down. You’re happy to hear Rosa chat away so excitedly about the concert, the high of it all has yet to subside. You wish you could share the same enthusiasm as her, but you’re feeling more like you skipped straight into the post-concert depression stage, even though you literally just stepped out of the arena. Or at least, you tell Rosa that when she notices how strained your responses were.

It takes some time, but you make it back to your hotel. You remember trying to push yourself to keep up conversations with Rosa, guilty for raining on her parade a little and at times, you think it works as you two look over the footage she managed to get on her phone. However, unsurprisingly, it was short-lived; whenever you catch sight of Jimin despite knowing that it’s not your guardian, your mind automatically drifts to the fight you had in the back alley and your guilt takes on a completely different form — one much more stifling and overwhelming.

It continues to gnaw at you through the night and to the moment you step on the plane, ready to fly back home. It’s made you develop a habit of checking your phone every other minute, a small part of you hoping to see something, anything that might be from him.

By the time you’re back in your room late in the afternoon, you still hear nothing.

You discard your luggage and bags in a corner without much care before sagging onto your bed. Jaehee wasn’t home when you got in, but the note she’s stuck on your bedroom door told you that she was out doing a grocery run and would be back shortly to welcome you home properly with a home-cooked meal. You smile softly at the thought but it doesn’t stay for long as your attention drifts back to the phone clutched in your hand. You click to unlock it, finding no new messages or calls yet again, the sight further eating away at you.

A heavy sigh leaves you, eyes slipping shut and your head slumps down as you bring the phone up to your temple, hitting against it gently.

Why did you have to be so stubborn? Your mind recalls the memory with clarity; a movie scene being replayed before you and you cringe at how you acted, every word and action reminded you of a spoiled child. Looking back now, you knew he was only trying to look out for you, keep your best health in mind but you were too caught up in your emotions at the time, tunnel visioned so hard you didn’t see the bigger picture until you’ve already walked away.

Now you’re reaping what you sowed.

As if the weight on your shoulders became too much, you allow yourself to fall back onto your bed. Your arm automatically reaches out to the giant plush cat, dragging it until you have it flushed against you, the malleable toy bringing a little sense of comfort. You pull your phone up to your face again, unlocking it once more and unsurprisingly, not finding any new messages. You stare a little longer before almost unconsciously your finger taps onto the text thread and then they hover over the call icon — hesitating.

What would you say? Would he even want to hear from you?

The thought makes your chest ache, but what’s worse than that is never hearing from him again at all and this would be your last memories of each other. No, you don’t want that. So you take a fortifying breath, pushing away all of your self-doubting thoughts and finally —

The phone comes alive in your hand, the vibration and the ringtone combined making you jolt for a second with your hands fumbling the device. Once you get a grip, your eyes scan the screen and your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. Without a second thought, you slide to accept the call.

“Hello?” It comes out in a gasp, breathless from how fast you bolt up from your position, ramrod straight and the poor plush cat clutched against you like a lifeline.

“Y/N?”

“Y-Yeah, hey…” Your heart is racing like you’ve ran a marathon, so loud in your ears that you hope by some miracle he doesn’t pick it up through the line because lord knows you’re not doing a good job at hiding how nervous you are.

“…Hey…”

And the sound of his voice is not helping; husky and low, like rich velvet chocolate that has your heart stuttering and melting all at once. He’s so easily emptied your head of all the things you had wanted to say and he’s only said one word.

Wow, you’re really losing it huh?

“Y/N?”

“H-Huh?”

“I asked if you got home okay.”

Your cheeks heat, picking up on the breathy edge of his tone and already imagining the amused quirk of his full lips. “Yeah! I — Yeah, I just got in…. In my room, just… resting for now…”

“That’s good to hear….” You hear him trailing off, trying to keep the conversation light and casual as if there wasn’t a giant pink elephant between you. It does nothing but make you more aware of it, antsy in needing to come forward and own up to your mistake because he, of all people, deserves an apology for how poorly you acted. Swallowing, you take in a breath and just go for it before you can regret it.

“Jimin—“

“Y/N—“

You both pause, an awkward silence filling the space at not anticipating the other speaking the same time. Hurriedly, you try to cover up your social blunder, embarrassed.


“God, sorry you can—“


“Sorry, what were you—“

Again, you speak over each other, which ensues another awkward beat. It’s only broken when you can’t help but let out a short huff of a laugh, completely at a lost. Through the line however, you’re greeted with the pleasant sounds of his own chuckle joining your own and like a spell, you are at ease, the nerves dissipating slowly.

“Now I remember why I can’t do phone calls…” You groan, half-jokingly but also already burying your face halfway into the large toy you have that’s now acting as an emotional support. If only it could swallow you whole…

“It’s okay, I don’t mind — not like I’m doing any better.” He replies and you smile softly, the warmth of his voice so soothing to your ears. Any other time you probably would be satisfied in listening to him talk for hours through the phone, social awkwardness be damn but this is neither here nor there, so you shake yourself before you get too lost into the tempting idea, getting back on the matter at hand.

“How about you go first?”

“No, you go ahead.”

“Seriously, Jimin—“

“I insist, Y/N.” Jimin’s voice is still gentle yet firm, enough for you to sense that there’s no room for argument. “Please.”

So you sigh, giving in. “Okay….” You say that, but it takes you a moment to gather yourself, not knowing where to begin or how to put into words what you feel properly.

But he waits patiently, and the quiet assurance allows for you to take that first step, even if you might stumble.

“I’m sorry,” You blurt out before you catch yourself and think maybe you need a little bit more context. “The concert… When you saved me from passing out by taking me outside, I— I’m really grateful you did that. I think it would’ve been bad if you hadn’t so…. What I said afterwards, and how I acted afterwards, that was really shitty of me…. You were right; I was so careless —“

“Y/N....”

“No! I really wasn’t thinking! And it’s so unfair of me because you helped me and I just—!” You stop abruptly, your voice rising dangerously in pitch with frustration and take in a shaky breath, trying to reign in your emotions. There’s no way you’re going to turn this already mess of an apology into an even bigger mess by actually crying. He might not be able to see you but you still felt the need to walk away with some dignity; composed so that he won’t think you’re some pathetic wreck. After swallowing away the growing lump in your throat, you continue on quietly, “I was just….so mad at myself. Like, after everything I couldn’t even stay for the entire concert — like I completely wasted it all and I took it out on you. So if you’re mad at me, then I get it; just know that I’m really sorry, Jimin.”

You don’t know what to say after that, not sure if there’s anything else left that isn’t ‘I’m sorry’. So you wait with bated breath for him to say something. Forgiveness was a selfish want from you but you would understand if he chooses not to despite the thought of it alone leaves your chest aching. The mere minutes of silence drags on like an eternity for you until finally, you hear him sigh.

“Y/N, I’m not mad at you, I promise.” He says, sincerely. “And I should be the one apologizing; for…freaking out at you like that, it just made things worse. I know….I know how much they mean to you,” There’s a short pause, like there was suddenly something holding him back but he shakes it off just as quickly as it had came, “how much he means to you.”

The statement has you momentarily taken aback, not expecting it at all. For some reason, you didn’t like the way he said that, even when everything about it was true. Before you can think too much on it however, Jimin quickly switches the tone in conversation, redirecting your attention elsewhere. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out but you know your safety is my priority, right?”


“Y-Yeah, I know….” You reply, a little flustered from having your thoughts derailed but pouting at being reminded of your deplorable behaviour, feeling much like a reprimanded child. “I promise I’ll be more careful from now on.”

“That’s my girl.” You grunt in acknowledgement, heated face sinking back into the soft confines of the bean-shaped cat still in your arms. “Listen, I have to go soon, so take care of yourself for me alright? Get something to eat and, please unpack and do your laundry.”

His playful gibe draws out an affronted gasp from you, “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

You only get a peal of laughter in response, making you further pout indignantly.


“I’ll talk to you later okay? Stay safe, cherub.”

“M-Mm, yeah okay. I’ll talk to you later then.”

When you hang up, you’re in a bit of daze. On one hand, you feel relieved that you both managed to resolve the fight that was weighing so heavily on your chest, honestly just glad to hear from your guardian again too but on the other hand, you can’t help also feeling like you’d been bulldozed a little. You want to say you’re simply over analyzing things, but your mind is constantly wandering back to what he said about how much BTS meant to you — more specifically, how much he, BTS’ Jimin, meant to you.

It almost sounded as if….

As if he believed you thought less about him in comparison.

You swear your heart drops to your stomach, frozen in a stunned silence like you can’t process this information, the idea preposterous and so close to outright denying it until you realize that… you never gave any indication otherwise. It really has always been BTS and their Jimin with you but now…

Now there’s Jimin….Your Jimin.

BTS are still important to you but your guardian has become someone irreplaceable to you, and through all the fond memories you can recall, he's there.

He's always been there.

The revelation triggers everything all at once; sweaty palms, palpitating heart, butterflies in the stomach — the whole shebang along with a whole Pandora’s box of emotions: elation, relief, disbelief, giddiness, uncertainty….

And crippling anxiety.

Oh boy, you think as a nervous laugh escapes you, I’m in danger.

-

Fuck.

He curses to himself for the umpteenth time as a particularly harsh wave of pain rolls over him, eyes squeezing shut to try and block it out but he thinks all he’s done successfully is make himself dizzy. It lasts for a second longer before finally it ebbs away and a long exhale escapes past his lips, relieved. The demon remains where he is slouched against the concrete ledge lining the rooftop he’s on a while longer, simply catching his breath and letting the gentle breeze cool his skin. Only once he feels the throbbing against his head die down does he let his eyes slip open again.

He’s greeted with the brilliant sight of the sunset sky, so vibrant it almost seems like he’s looking at a painting. The rich shades of orange bleed like wildfire, lighting the streaks of wispy clouds almost red before blending in to softer pinks and hints of lilacs, the blues deepening into a more indigo shade with the coming of night. The sun sits just a little above the horizon, its glow no more than a haze as it continues to make its descent and he watches on with an almost mocking indifference to the splendour of it all.

Jimin instead, idly thinks he’s gotten a good handle at dealing with the shockwave of pain that comes with completing a deed. He doesn’t feel as winded or sore from the muscle aches it usually leave behind — he wonders if he’ll eventually become numb to it or simply be too tired to care. Dark eyes wander down to his phone still clutched in his hand and the conversation he had not too long ago rushes back.

It went… surprisingly smoother than he had expected, despite the awkward start. When he had decided to call you, Jimin had finally swallowed his pride in that he owes you at least an apology for shouting at you the way he did. It was unnecessary and did more harm than good, evident when he had watched you withdraw in on yourself soon afterwards. He should’ve known better, but in that moment his emotions got in the way; those dark desires he's trying to keep locked away, only for them to become harder and harder to contain the longer time passes. And that’s what Jimin’s afraid of — that despite knowing how much the band and the singer means to you, he’ll disregard it all for petty, selfish reasons. Hell, he couldn’t even acknowledge the fact out loud just now without having to practically force it through his teeth and even then, the bitter aftertaste the words leave behind still lingers.

Like a reminder that all Jimin will ever have with you are fleeting moments, nothing more.

Jimin’s afraid that sooner or later, he’ll end up hurting you because he got too greedy.

A deep sigh leaves him and he runs a hand through his dark tresses out of stress, thoughts racing through his troubled mind until one sticks out above the rest. From the way things are going, Jimin thinks his best course of action would be to distance himself from you a bit more; see you less in person and maybe perhaps get your roommate Jaehee to check in on you every once in a while for him.

It’s not something he wants to do, but with it, it’s killing two birds with one stone — you won’t find out about his weakening condition and he won’t do anything that he’ll regret.

-

Before you know it, the week is nearly over with days passing by with you back on your routine again of going to work and occasionally hanging out with your friends. The world moves on as if nothing were amiss even though for you, it was anything but.

Sure, in the grand scheme of things (i.e. the universe), your problem is pretty minuscule and there’s no doubt that if your friends were clued in on everything, they would probably smack you, call you a dumb-dumb and tell you to quote, ‘get that ass!’ but it just had to be so much more complicated than that.

First and foremost, you were four days old when you found out that you’ve caught feelings for a demon who also happens to be your supernatural entity guardian.

That sentence alone is already chock full of all sorts of sacrilegious implications (not that you really cared but you can only imagine how it would sound like to an outsider).

Secondly, you don’t know if he feels the same way or if he just sees you as something else; a tolerable human being that’s entertaining? A friend you would hope at least. Or…. Simply an obligation.

That last one stung a little.

Worse is you haven’t forgotten that your guardian was only meant to stay temporarily, something that had already been troubling you in the back of your mind and though you had pushed it away continuously, you learn that all it did was grow until it began manifesting itself in ways you hadn’t realized. Both a good and a bad thing because in doing so, some things make much more sense now. But with you being aware of your feelings, the question of how or should you even let them be known becomes the cherry on top of this rapidly melting sundae.

You think you’ve worked through every possible scenario, dissecting them every way you can like a mad scientist, but the results all end up the same either way — things wouldn’t work out and you’ll just end up being heart broken.

An exasperated groan leaves you and your forehead nearly connects with the table below you before you caught yourself midway, thinking better because you don’t know what’s been on it. You don’t get time to continue your brooding however as a radio static voice cuts through the lunchroom.

“Hey Y/N, you back from your break yet?”

Glancing down at your phone, you note the time and inwardly curse, reaching up to press down on the mic reluctantly, “Yeah, I’m on my way out.”

“Okay, cool. Once you’re back up on cash, Stephanie can take her break then.”

You slouch back on your seat, intent on taking your time to get up (not like there was anyone here to clock you on your punctuality). You have two hours left on your shift but already you feel drained, both physically and mentally. Eventually, you muster the strength and willpower to finally get up and begin making your way back to the store floor, despite your mind being far from keeping the queue line clean and customers happy.

You sigh, hoping weakly that by some miracle, the remaining work would be enough to distract you from your troubling thoughts, if only for a short while.

When the two hours were done, it felt like you had been holding your breath the entire time and when you finally clocked out did you let yourself breathe. The weight of your thoughts stayed, but at least now you’re finally free to wallow in it once again without any interruptions. Probably not the greatest thing since it nearly made you miss your stop. You get through the door, catching Jaehee just as she’s making her way to the kitchen, changed in her lounge wear, fresh from a shower with her hair still damp and a towel draped around her shoulders.

“Jaehee, you’re home… kinda early?” You remark, taking a glance down at your phone to confirm that usually she wouldn’t be home for another hour and a half.

“Oh yeah, I asked to clock out early; wasn’t feeling too well.” She answers wryly with a half-hearted shrug. You blink at that, brows pinching a little in worry.

“Coming down with something?”

“Nah, nothing serious. Promise.” Jaehee smiles, assuring. “I’m gonna make lasagna tonight, sounds good?”

You nod, feeling your stomach rumble with anticipation. After washing up, you head out of your room, comfy in your pjs and already smelling the cheesy goodness of the lasagna baking. Peering into the kitchen, you see Jaehee busy with cutting up lettuce, most likely for a salad on the side for you to share.

“So how was your day?” Jaehee asks as you step in to take out some plates and utensils.

You respond with a noise; a straining, drawn out groan that borderlines on a mental breakdown but never quite reaches. It’s a response your roommate is familiar with, so much that any further context isn’t necessary for her to understand that work has been same old, same old; irritating but you do it for the money.

“Any dumb customers?” She laughs.

You pause to think but then answer, “Thankfully, no. Like, God decided to take pity on me for once. What about you? Has your manager been acting up lately, Ethan?”

At the mention, Jaehee lets out her own groan, shoulders dropping for a second as if the very thought’s weight had suddenly pushed down on her. You offer a sympathetic pat before slipping on oven mits to grab the now ready lasagna. Jaehee worked at an office in a junior position as a recruiter of sorts, a job she managed to get a little bit before graduating and thus, quitting her old retail job. What the company does specifically you’re still a little unsure of to this day but from what you’ve been hearing through Jaehee, you think that’s not the biggest issue to worry about.

Most of the stories Jaehee chooses to share with you were more or less what you would call ‘office horror stories’ — two-faced co-workers, that one guy who doesn’t know what personal space is, after work get togethers that, although is a nice idea, were often times far too forced to feel anything remotely ‘team bonding’, some handful shady department practices and of course, the unstable manager. Needless to say, it’s left you feeling concerned over the environment Jaehee has chosen to work in and although she expresses the same opinions as you whenever she vents, she’s always left feeling uncertain on what to do and then just brushes it off.

You don’t push on it further after that, only offering suggestions she could possibly consider but ultimately, leave it for her to decide whether she would actually take them or not. This is Jaehee’s job, not yours and you respect and trust Jaehee as a person who can make the right choices about her life.

And so dinner passes by in that same manner, the subject shifting quickly onto more casual things. Once or twice Jaehee would sneakily ask how things are going on with Jimin (or Julien as she knows him) of which like talks about her workplace, you skitter around on — as if you can explain your dilemma to her when you don’t even know where to begin yourself!

By the time you wash up and crash land onto your bed, you’re back to square one, caught up in your internal whirlwind of emotions with no hopes of trying to sort any of the mess out. Like Dorothy trapped in her little house that’s been sucked into the tornado, except you don’t even have a little dog to be your emotional support. You toss and you turn for a while, kept up by those thoughts until your self-promises of trying to go to sleep early is abandoned in favour of scrolling endlessly through your social media feeds. So much for trying to fix your awful sleep schedule.

You swear you blink once and it’s well past two in the morning already. You put your phone down with a sigh, bringing up a hand to rub your eyes and relieve them momentarily from the harsh glare of the screen. The thought that maybe you should give it a rest and attempt to sleep, even if it means just closing your eyes and hoping you lull off at some point crosses your mind but right when you’re about to part with your phone, a low buzz erupts from it along with a small chime. The vibration sends a shock from your chest before you lift up the device, the screen lit with a new incoming notification. When your eyes adjust to the brightness once more, you freeze.

Speak of the demon.

“Hey cherub,

I know it’s pretty late (though something tells me you’re still awake anyways)

But I just wanted to check up on you and see how you’re doing.”

You inwardly groan to yourself; it’s like the Lord is testing you right now. All the mixed feelings you’ve been having has you seeing things through new lenses. It’s annoying on every aspect — you hate how it has made you second guess yourself on everything that you’ll do or say, like you’re walking on eggshells while being smothered at the same time. But you can’t deny that your caution isn’t without reason. When it comes to matters of the heart, your approach is comparatively much more skeptical than to most people you know. Hence, you suppose, it would explain your sparse and short-lived dating history.

You weren’t a big risk taker or trusting enough to leave your heart in someone else’s hands; you feel like you have so much more to lose than to gain and you’d rather save the heartache for something a little bit more worthwhile. So to even think about shooting your shot with someone when the odds are so against you like this….

You chew on your lip, heart pounding and fingers hovering over the keyboard in limbo, caught between listening to your head or your heart. But Jimin…. Your dear guardian Jimin, always had this inexplicable effect on you. You don’t know whether it’s from his nature as a demon or something else, but it has only grown stronger over the time you’ve spent with him that you think no matter how hard you try to stay away, you’ll find yourself unconsciously searching for him again, like a moth drawn to a flame.

And so you find yourself tentatively typing out your response, backspacing when the doubt creeps in but ultimately, you reason, as long as you don’t give anything away, he can’t see through you… yet.

You hit send before you think too deeply on that.

“I don’t appreciate being called out like that >:(

But if you must know, I’m well (despite, you know, possibly losing out on precious sleep right now due to a certain demon).”

The bated breath you let out could be mistaken for accomplishing something excruciatingly nerve wracking, like skydiving for the first time. It’s comical really, if you weren’t the one going through it. Your head flops to the side momentarily in a defeated manner; why did you have to get smacked in the face with feelings when you can barely get a handle of what you want for dinner the following day? Maybe you shouldn’t have replied, but then you’d feel bad because Jimin hasn’t done anything to get ghosted. Oh god, maybe you should’ve just replied in the morning instead, why did you have to be so — ! A rumble pulls you out of your mental panicking and with jittery hands you bring up your phone again, hastily reading the reply.

“Don’t pout cherub, I’m just messing with you ~

I actually didn’t think you would reply but anyways, I’m glad to hear you’re doing okay at least so you should try to get some of that sleep.

I won’t keep you then.”

But you do pout regardless. In spite of sounding like you wanted to desperately hide away from ever talking to Jimin again in fear of acting like a fool, you can’t help feeling a little disappointed at how short the conversation was. Your fingers move on their own, typing out the first thoughts that comes to mind, only to erase them. It goes on like that until you finally stop on the sixth try, deflating as if all the night’s tumultuous emotions have finally worn you out to a sullen calm. What are you even trying to do? You feel like for the past minutes, you’ve done nothing but be so indecisive with yourself that you fear you don’t know what you want anymore. Perhaps this is your divine intervention that you should sleep on this, at least for tonight.

With a resigned sigh, you send off a short and simple message, not really expecting a reply as you finally place your phone down on your nightstand.

“I’ll go to sleep soon.

I hope you’re doing well too, staying out of trouble and such.

I can’t exactly guarantee you that I’ll be of much help if you do, so….don’t do it!

And thanks… for checking up on me.”

You go to settle down into your sheets when the familiar chime and rumble once again snags your attention and you can’t resist, reaching over. You read over his words, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m fine, don’t worry your pretty little head over me.

I won’t do anything that’ll stress you out….too much ;)

(the prick, always gotta keep you on your toes somehow but you suppose that’s why there’s never a dull moment with him)

It’s not a problem darling, so rest easy and …. sweet dreams.”

The smile lingers on your lips long after you drift off to a surprisingly peaceful slumber, mind put more at ease. You’ll figure this out, one way or another.