#but this whole scene is so agitating too whenever i think hard about it

[todayisafridaynight]

tbh I really wanted the 3jimas to win that fight, to have Kiryu realize that his actions have consequences and that maaayybeee the people he keeps disappearing on to only reappear briefly to make demands of are finally sick of it and the rose tinted glasses of admiration have come off

no absolutely i really needed kiryu to just. //shakes him//

another thing i really wish we got from IW was daigo going off on kiryu- like he STARTED to but i needed that Y4 shit RIGHT NOW. if Y4 did anything right, it definitely helped broaden daigo's character in how having the chairman title pushed onto him was stressing him out and having him express this to kiryu was SO cathartic, even if daigo's words ultimately mean nothing to kiryu (or at the very least, kiryu did a bad job on understanding daigo's grievances and helping him afterwards)

it really is agitating that the jimas ended up going to the tower anyway too. i get that saejima and majima are kiryu's ex-colleagues and daigo's practically his son, and the fight was supposed to be a 'wake up call' for them. but it just diminishes the anger we saw from daigo in that first scene (and as if i have to say it, daigo becoming angry is a rare thing so that when it does happen its so jarring and it's meant to be serious) and it continues to excuse kiryu's general disregard for others if it means he gets what he wants.

its unfathomable to me that after nearly two decades of holding a position daigo didnt want for the sake of his idol, he finally gets to break away from it. and now his idol's just waltzing back into his life- after acting like he was dead for three years- asking for ANOTHER favor. and daigo's just supposed to accept it. if kiryu wasnt literally dying i just know he'd keep doing this until his last breath and no one would punish him for it because despite how many times he claims to understand daigo's woes, it's evident he doesn't care enough to leave him out of things

[utterlyazriel]

whom the shadows sing for — (and the thief's echoing hymn)

a/n: WE MADE IT TO CHAPTER FIVE!! EVERYBODY CLAP!! labour of love fr <3 but we're almost to the scene that sparked the whole freakin series and i. oh man im just yearning for that hurt/comfort

word count: 4.4k

synopsis: You test out if your efforts with the tonics are worth anything and Azriel bestows you with a gift. He asks about the Blood Rite and you ponder the strange, golden thread you've been feeling in your chest. Disaster strikes when night falls.

CHAPTER FIVE :: CONFIDANTS

You look younger in your sleep, Azriel thinks.

He doesn't think he's ever seen you like this before. The hard lines of your face are all smoothed out as you rest, so unlike your usual expression. There's something softer about you.

The constant furrow between your brows is whisked away for once. He can still see the familiar line between your brows though, if he looks close enough.

If he can look past the bruises that mottle your face, that is.

The damage you've sustained from training within the camp is severe enough to curdle something sour in his stomach.

Azriel had held his reservations about his trip back to Velaris— a suspicion that proved to be well founded. His own memories of training at Windhaven provide plentiful ways for you to have ended up in this state.

You’re curled up instinctively in your sleep, wings tucked around yourself. It sews of thread of worry through Azriel's chest, a slight concern at the state of your wounds and how the position will agitate them. While you don't move much in your sleep, he knows from experience that it'll be hell when you finally do stretch back out.

But... he can’t bring himself to wake you. You need the sleep desperately.

Azriel is fairly certain that the huddled form you take is some subconscious way to protect yourself, even in your sleep. Your wings drape across yourself, keeping yourself covered, hidden.

And while that makes some part of Azriel's heart ache, he can't deny that you—it looks… sort of cute.

Azriel forces himself to avert his eyes, ducking his chin for extra measure. Those pesky thoughts were becoming more and more frequent — something that he's pointedly ignoring at this point.

Protect, his shadows whirl around his ears like tiny gusts of wind, whispering their suggestions. Protect, they whisper.

Protect. Both a thought and a feeling. A guiding intuition that seems to reverberate from his very bones.

The suggestion from his shadows isn't entirely left field either, as they always take inspiration from what he can see. From his wandering thoughts, from his prolonged gentle gaze that lays upon you whenever he can.

Azriel scowls lightly at himself. He had no claim to protect you and further more, most Illyrian males like yourself would take great amounts of offence to the mere insinuation. He knows that you are more than capable.

He steals another glance at your peaceful, sleeping figure and his shadows seem to quieten in response— at least about you. The whispers don't ever truly quieten.

Azriel's fairy certain where they're getting their ideas. It's what he wonders too as he takes in your battered face once more—whether it’s the truth or just his familiar brand of desperate hope.

Something that would explain the urge to protect beyond reason.

Something like... a bond forged in starlight.

The Mother's Kiss whistles quietly outside and Azriel shifts his gaze again and this time, it lays upon the Heartstriker.

Sitting atop the one table-top in your shelter, the blade stays sheathed away in the very same bejeweled case that Azriel had found it in. Same as on that very first day he laid his hands on it.

It had been a wretched mission. One of his very first. It was not performed with the eloquence he would come to learn in future years.

Heartstriker had not been the objective of the mission. Far from it, in truth. The objective was a simple stealth reconnaissance into the Court of Nightmares.

He was to delve beneath the rock of the mountain in a mission very similar to his current. Swirlings of rumours and whispers of rebellion, against the new Highlord. Azriel was there to learn who had the guts to pick up the knife and try.

Heartstriker was a ploy. A shiny trick that Azriel had not yet learned how to evade.

He was still a novice by his own standards, only a few hundred years old. Spying in this sense was still fresh, still new. The work he had done under Rhysand's father during the war had been far more reliant on his brute strength. He had strict instructions not to hesitate to draw his blade.

It had taken time to relearn the importance in a message sent with words.

To remember the power of mercy.

This mission had been the first and only time Azriel had underestimated the measures in place in the Court of Nightmares, meant to keep out the likes of him.

His hesitance to kill had given another Fae time to trip an alarm, to flood the room with warriors. So when he had been backed into a corner by the snarling miscreants that lived in the belly of the mountain, taken by surprise, he hadn't hesitated to snatch up any weapon he could reach.

And it had branded him, singeing him right to his core.

But when he tried to force his fingers apart, they wouldn't obey, even as they screamed with the pain of the invisible flames. It was as though his hand had become fused with the blade, each atom of his being completely joined with the bronze of the sword through a terrible, unstoppable and invisible force.

Every part of him shrieked in agony. An age-old fear reared up within him, his hands burning like they were set alight and he could feel the flames licking at his skin, at his hands, could smell the scent of burning flesh—

He had fought on and won, all the same, taking on two battles at once. Fighting foes by real and faux, all whilst burning up from within all the while. The sword was immeasurably heavy and yet too light, all at once.

And only once almost all his enemies were slain, their blood staining the marble floors, did the burning cease. The blade seem to hum in response to the battle— drawn to the final foe who was clawing for his breath through his blood-soaked throat.

The tip of the sword had urged Azriel forward, like pulled by an invisible string, and he let it lead him, plunging the blade through the chest and into the heart of the last enemy left.

Only after, had the humming stopped. The sword finally clattered from Azriel's strong grip, the fusion broken.

His hands were same as ever, mottled with their scars, but with no indication of the burning he knew he had felt.

On his return, Rhys had told him the history of the sword and it's duly fitting name: Heartstriker.

It hadn't been claimed in centuries and as such, naturally it had come to live amongst other cursed objects within the Court of Nightmares. Unable to be used, unless someone bested the pain it took to raise it.

But Azriel had, entirely by accident.

It is said that once mastered, it will always strike true. Rhys had said, violet eyes gleaming as he looked over the bronze sword with piqued interest. That it's more than a regular sword but a living thing you must work in tandem with.

If anyone tries to take it from you, they must suffer the same fate. It can be gifted freely but, He had paused, that smirk that held no warmth in it pulling at his lips. I'm sure you can guess how often that happens down there.

It hadn't been used within the Night Court either, condemned to another hundred years or so without sight of battle. Azriel had more than enough blades of his own. The Illyrian broadsword that he had earned all that time ago in the Blood Rite for a proper battle and his Truth-Teller for the finer details.

Heartstriker wasn't right for his stature. Too short, strange weighted.

He'd kept it all the same. Perhaps, he told himself, to keep some other Fae from suffering the same fate if they laid hands on it.

His hazel eyes drift back across to you, bundled within yourself. You make a noise in your sleep, a gentle snuffle, and Azriel finds himself smiling.

Or perhaps, he thinks, he knew to keep it for entirely other reasons.

—

The quick healing of Illyrian's is more often a blessing than it is a curse.

On today's quiet winter morning, it is somehow both.

When you wake, dragged from your slumber in the early hours, it's before the sun has begun to make an appearance on the horizon. The shelter is coated in a soft darkness of dawn. The trees sway outside, a thousand creatures still roaming amongst their branches, reliant on the dark before daylight breaks.

It's the pain that wakes you, ebbing in through your sleep til it shakes off your sleep. You wake with your teeth already gritted.

The only pleasant surprise is that fact you're not shuddering yourself awake out of a nightmare, especially considering yesterday's training session.

You have a feeling that it has something to do with the sleeping Illyrian, propped up beside the fireplace, keeping watch.

His shadows still move about, even in his sleep. His neck is tucked down, his forehead pressed against his knee. It hides away part his face but as your eyes adjust to the shadowy light, you can make out his closed eyes. His hair looks messier than you've ever seen it.

It can't be comfortable, sleeping the way he is— but you have a feeling that Azriel has slept in places far worse before.

Shifting about in the darkness, your hand comes down to press tenderly at your sides, assessing as quietly as you can. There's no immediate sting of sliced skin as your fingers tips poke and prod at the skin, which makes you sigh in relief. You press down again, at bit harder this time, and it forces a wince out your gritted teeth.

Extremely bruised. But at the very least, the skin has knitted itself together in the nighttime.

Your face still aches, too. It's not quite the same ringing that made both eyes throb painfully yesterday and with a slow wrinkle of your nose, you can assess that the worst of your broken nose has healed up too.

Your ears, however, poses a different problem. One of them, the right side, still rings lightly. It would be more concerning, you think, if the left one itself wasn't so muffled altogether.

Huffing out a breath, you drag yourself up to a sitting position, moving at a tentative pace. Pain ricochets around your body. You're doing the best you can to be quiet but it's futile it seems — there's one creak of the bed as your weight shifts and Azriel's wings twitch, giving him away. He’s awake.

He lifts his head slowly, letting it roll from one side to the next, stretching out his neck. It's the only indication he gives you of feeling sore from his cramped sleep all night, his attentive eyes already watching you closely. His shadows, you notice, seem to gain speed at his rousing— circling his shoulders and neck closely.

You clear your throat and focus your gaze forward, resuming the task at hand. Raising one hand, you snap your fingers beside your left ear, then your right.

Frustration bubbles up inside you as you repeat the motion, as if it’ll change the outcome.

It doesn’t.

At least beyond the ringing, your right ear can hear the snap clearly— a keen Fae sense that like any warrior, you rely heavily on. The left one…

All you can think is that they must have hit you pretty damn hard to leave it as dulled as it feels. It can still hear, thankfully, but the noise that filters through is muffled around the edges. Buzzy. It makes you feel off kilter and unbalanced.

You let your hand drop and try to remain stoic, so used to hiding your emotions away from your face. You don't realise your drooping, limp wings give you away anyways.

Azriel gets to his feet swiftly, the movement so smooth you would have never guessed he spent the night tucked up uncomfortably against the bricks of your fireplace. He regards you with those burning amber eyes and your heart seems to lurch forward in response. You avert your gaze.

"It would seem we have an opportunity to test out our efforts." He says. His voice is still coated in sleep, low and rumbley, and it sends a bright zing down your spine. You lift your gaze from your lap and raise your brows in question.

He waves a hand to the table, in gesture.

Your various ingredients for brewing the tonics stay tucked in one corner, some wrapped up and set beneath the table. There are several different bottles too, stoppered with corks and containing yours and Azriel's attempts at the healing tonics.

It takes another moment to understand what he means.

"No," You say sharply, climbing to your feet. A thousand parts of your ache and groan in protest and you channel your focus into not letting a single ounce of it show.

Rolling your tense shoulders back, you wander towards your armor in slow steady steps. "Those aren't for me. I've healed enough in the night."

"I see." Azriel replies. "Is that why your left ear isn't working right?"

Gaze snapping back to him, you curse his ever-so observant nature. Maybe that's on you for trying to keep a secret from a Shadowsinger.

You are keeping a secret from a shadowsinger, something whispers in you.

A cold flush fills your body, numbing out every nerve for a single moment. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your wings hike up, tuck in. It feels wrong.

For the first time in your life, it feels so so utterly wrong to be keeping this secret from someone. To be hiding who you truly are.

But Azriel... he was a stranger not too long ago, wasn't he? You're not sure if you can even call each other friends, even if you had begun to in your mind, without even realising.

You think back to last night, to when he could have easily lifted your shirt a few inches higher when trying to save your life and known.

Then you wonder if he did — and he hasn't said anything.

If he's waiting for you to trip up, to fess up, to explain to him why you've been lying to him from the moment you first met him.

Azriel seems to sense your internal battle, the same way he seems senses a thousand things from you as though he's known you his whole life. He clears his throat to get your attention. When you focus your vision back on him, you notice one of the bottles is in his scarred fingers.

"I will train you today," He says. "On the condition that you take it."

Your nose twitches. It's an ultimatum. He knows you want to train, to brush off yesterday and let the pain in your body fuel the determination of today but he won't let you do it so carelessly. Bastard.

Before you can blink, he tosses the bottle across to you. You react instinctively, cradling your hands to catch it quickly before you realise what you're doing. Your nose twitches again, a tiny flare of annoyance at his smugness.

No, not smugness. Surety. His expression, bordering on bored, tells you that he knows you don't have any other options— unless you want to climb back into bed and rot for the day.

You yank the cork off the bottle harshly. Then, just to show him how unpleased you are with this, you lob the cork at him with all your might. Your bruised side screams in response. Azriel snatches from the air easily, without so much as a blink.

He looks like he wants to smile but thinks the better of it, placing the cork gently onto the table. "I'll meet you outside." He eyes the uncorked bottle in your hand then back at you. "Drink it. Please."

—

The tonic, as you find out, is only mildly effective.

It's a gutting discovery. The mixture is nowhere near potent enough to fix the level of nerve damage that gets inflicted during clippings if it barely lightens the bruises on your side.

The mottled blue painted on your skin gives way to a light purple, the edges of them retracting to a tinged yellow. The skin glows hot as the tonic works as best as it can.

The taste of it is nearly as rancid as the failure feels.

You deal with it the only way you know how; chewing it up and spitting it back out as determination to do better. The drive to push yourself harder in training rears up, fiery and stubborn— harder than you logically know is any help to yourself.

What was already tedious and heinous training is made that much worse by your injuries.

You're moving sloppily today, offbeat. The dullness in your left ear helps to keep you off balance. Still, you manage to keep up with Azriel— not quite the one step ahead you're usually aiming for but, at the very least, you're still holding your own.

Your ribs ache and your heads throbs. The ringing in your right ear has disappeared with the help of the tonic, only to have started up in the left. A relief in one sense— it's good to be hearing more of anything. A fucking pain in another.

The only major upside, really, is the sword.

The Heartstriker, Azriel had called it

You had been half convinced it was a hallucination, the gift. Sure that it some desperate illusion born out of the delirium of the blood loss because, really, when was the last time you had ever gotten a gift?

When you'd limped your way out into the snow and saw it in his hands, you had blinked in disbelief.

But it's almost like Azriel had expected it, his scarred hands reaching out to gently curl around your wrist, murmuring its name as he had pressed it into your hand. It's yours, he had said.

He had let go of your wrist go immediately, stepping back but not far, still hovering close by. He let you have a moment to marvel at it before he urged you to follow to the usual neck of the woods you trained in. The sound of clashing steel had soon followed.

It's a perfect addition, you find.

The blade is like a mere extension of your own arm. It's light enough to carve through the air with ease but when you strike, it's buries deep. Compared the Illyrian broadsword used in training at camp, it suits your stature far better. You move more agilely, hit more frequently and harder when you do.

It's probably the best thing you've ever owned— ever held.

You're gazing at it where it rests on your lap, glinting in the light of the day, as you try to catch your breath. Azriel had given you a moment to recover, far earlier than normal, due to your injuries, no doubt. Normally, you'd grumble and snarl and push him to continue but today, you're quite happy to have another moment to stare at the first gift you've gotten.

Azriel breaks the silence with a question.

"Why haven't you competed in the Blood Rite?"

Something icy spikes in your blood and your back straightens instinctively, the hair on the nape of your neck standing on end. Whether he knows it or not, he is treading close to dangerous territory.

"Why do you ask?" You answer his question with another question.

Azriel regards you with a certain look, his dark eyes dragging down your body intensely and back up to your face. It's enough to make you fluster momentarily, to feel a faint stirring in your heart that doesn't entirely feel like your own. No one has ever looked at you like that before.

"You're strong. You hold your own. You're of age." He states carefully. "You remain attached to this camp with no rank until you pass it. Why not?"

You scowl at his frame of thinking, as if you haven't passed over those reasons a thousand times. Beyond the fact you can't ever ensure you wouldn't be burdened with your cycle during the Blood Rite, there's more than enough reason for you to remain a nobody.

You feel oddly disappointed that he would think only in that manner; glory and rank.

"What makes you think I want any rank in my camp?" You spit bitingly, watching as his wings sink down an inch at your tone. His misunderstanding of why you've chosen this way of life bothers you more than you expect.

"Because you did?" You ask. "Because three bastards fought their way through it and won and left their shitty pasts behind? I am not you, Azriel."

Azriel doesn't react, not even the raising of his brows. Only his shadows give himself away, whirling around slower than usual. He speaks in that same careful tone as before.

"I know you are not."

He makes you feel foolish for giving in to any lick of your anger, for so quickly snapping at your only friend. You turn your head away and stare down into the snow, taking a breath. Cauldron, you're tired. Lifting you arm, you wipe your forehead with the back of your hand, clearing the sweat that beads there.

"I could leave but for what reason? Ever since I—" You suck a sharp inhale, swallowing back words that dance too close to giving you away. You pray he doesn't notice your hesitation. "Ever since I was young, this has been my goal. This change must come from within, you know that."

You inhale again, feeling the breath rattle past every ache and pain in your chest.

"I can only do the things I do... the things I must achieve, by being unnoticeable."

You cast a glance up to him. "To them, I am some bastard who won't give up and die. I am not a proper threat. You, of all people, should understand that it's easiest to work when people are not paying proper attention."

And that's all you have known — how to become unnoticeable when needed and how to be noticed when wanted. Attention, you've learned, only means a target on your back.

Beyond that... you can't imagine someone who would want to notice you for anything more. You've had many, many years to make peace with that bitter fact.

I am.

Without warning, there's a sudden thrum from deep within you, like a echo of a drum, of a call. It's golden and threaded with softness. I am paying attention.

It startles you, one hand flying to your armored chest in surprise. As quick as it had appeared, the hum flees and leaves your bound chest twingeing only in its usual discomfort. One moment of brief serenity. You long for it, despite the unfamiliar nature.

You realise abruptly that you've trailed off and force yourself to move, body aching in the process. Heartstriker sinks into the snow and you use it to clamber to your feet, not nearly as graceful as you would like. Azriel doesn't say anything.

In fact, when you lift your gaze to meet his, he's staring at you more intensely than usual. His shadows seem more agitated. They flit about, circling his hands more than his shoulders, and you can barely see the scarred skin through their inky darkness.

There's a long moment. Around you both, the trees creek as they bend in the wind, a thousand leaves rustling around you in a chorus.

Azriel breaks the silence, casting his eyes to the ground and lifting his blade. "No more questions."

He says it like a promise, his lips pulling at the edges like he might be offering a smile.

"Just fighting."

—

By the time the moon rises, the ache in your body has dimmed to a more bearable pain.

While you'd be miffed at the idea of Azriel pulling his punches, you can't deny the sliver of gratitude you have for it now. As you reach over the cauldron of simmering stew, only a few of your ribs twinge enough to make your motions falter momentarily. The stew bubbles and brews, filling your shelter with a hearty smell.

It's been too long since you last cooked something to share.

You try to shelve the guilt away—you and Azriel have been running a very tight schedule, switching between training, tonics and rest. Taking time to cook, for yourself or others, hasn't even had time to cross your mind.

Your brief brush back with the reality during yesterday's training, however, had provided you with ample reminders. Your home camp and all its violent glory.

So, you cook. The logs crackle on the fire and above them, the stew simmers gently as you stir absentmindedly at it. Giving yourself this quiet moment, you let your thoughts drift as the tiredness of the day trickles into your body. Your thoughts turn to the quiet Shadowsinger.

He had taken his leave as soon as he had declared the end of your days training, needing another trip to Velaris.

I'll be back by morning, he had said, each of his seven cerulean siphons flaring brightly before he stepped between the fabric of the world and disappeared. Another hidden trick up his sleeve.

You'd allowed yourself only one moment of surprise before you closed your mouth— you really needed to stop underestimating him. As the stew before you begins to hiss and spit, you pull yourself from your thoughts and prepare yourself for the discomfort of meal times.

They never are as friendly as you might hope.

Despite your generosity, the different outcasts of Exordor remain cagey. Regard you with pensive and guarded looks, hands hovering on the butts of their swords. You can't blame them in the slightest.

But those that can brave the walk to your cabin, risking both themselves and your own safety against the other Illyrian brutes in the camp, are rewarded with a hot meal. Tonight, you feed 12 hungry mouths before your doorstep grows quiet.

You pack it all away in silence, with a quite yearning for company you've only just become used to having.

It's only as you're tucking in for the night, your wings wrapped around yourself tightly, does the first pain strike. Right to your core, the very insides of your gut feels as though it's being shredded. You gasp, your entire body curling up tighter to fight against the pain.

For only a moment, confusion clouds your mind at the attack that seems to come from nowhere, from an invisible enemy. Only one answer comes forward—the only thing that can threaten to reveal your secret without your permission, through mere scent alone.

A certain agony that only tortures you twice a year.

[NEXT PART: BETRAYERS]

[fanfic-inator795]

I've talked a lot on here about my favorite characters, but what about some of my LEAST favorite characters?

Honestly, I don't have too many characters that I just hate with a burning passion or anything like that... but there are def characters that truly get under my skin. So let's have some fun and rant for a bit, shall we? Starting with least hated to most:

Sadie Miller (Steven Universe): Gonna be honest, a big reason why I dislike this character is because of her voice. No disrespect to Kate Micucci, but MAN her voice is just so grating to me personally (tbf, I feel the same way about Greg Cipes). As for the character herself, she's just incredibly whiny and annoying imo. I couldn't really relate to her frustrations with her mother, and that whole mess with her and Lars was just... yeah. Still can't really overlook the whole Stranded Island incident. Say what you will about how terrible Lars can be, but at least Lars can be funny and interesting sometimes. I just don't care for Sadie at all.

Mo Morrison (Lightyear): Laying out my biases here, I really don't like Lightyear in general, it's a very frustrating and agitating film to me personally, I could honestly rant about that movie for hours. But beyond the story/plot issues, Mo is just a very annoying character to me. They try SO hard to push him to be the comedy relief, and it just does not work. Then, when they try to push him as the team screw-up, they push too hard and just make him frustrating to watch since he literally can't do anything right and doesn't get a win until the payoff with the stupid spacesuit pen. Literally every scene with him just ends up making me go "goddamn it, Mo, why are you even here??"

Mr. Herriman (Foster's Home): As a kid who was a big fan of Frankie growing up, it shouldn't be surprising just how much I hate this rabbit. I think what really gets me is how callous and unfair he can be, with stuff like "Imposters Home for uh Make-em-up Pals", "Crime After Crime" and "Setting a President" showing him at his absolute worst. An all-around VERY frustrating and unsympathetic character to me, worse so than Bloo or any of the show's actual villains. Honestly, it makes me sad that we don't get to see more of his softer side - i.e. the life-long friendship he has with Madame Foster/the stuff that makes Madame Foster love him - as that easily could have saved his character. But for the most part, he just comes off as a huge jerk.

Stickler (The Cuphead Show): Similarly to Herriman, I think I just get incredibly annoyed with characters who put rules and procedure above everything else. What makes Stickler worse though is the voice they gave him, as while it's kinda funny in his first couple appearances, by season 3 I'm cringing just as much as Devil does whenever he pops up. They also amp up his jerkiness and pushiness in the later episodes - and while I get WHY they need to, given how distracted Devil gets, it's still a tad annoying imo.

Dr. Owen Hunt (Grey's Anatomy): Literally my least favorite character EVER. This guy... he really is just the WORST. And yes, I know there are in-universe reasons for how he acts, but when he continues being a shitty person to his wives and others, I stop caring about those reasons. He's a huge hypocrite on most things, has a 'my way is always right'/'My way or the highway' mentality, and he's just such a baby whenever he doesn't get his way or when he has to face consequences. YES, I KNOW, on Grey's pretty much everyone is a shitty person in some way because it's a dramatic medical soap opera and they need drama, but Owen really does just get under my skin the most with how stubborn and 'holier than thou' he acts a lot of the time.

...That being said, if any of my followers actually like these characters, no disrespect to you. In fact, I'd love to know WHY you like these characters, as perhaps I can get a new perspective on them.

[potatoesandsunshine]

🌈🤍👐💌!

thanks hannah!!! these questions come from this fic writer ask game

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?: i’m super prone to falling down the too-much-research hole, so even something really short/fluffy like feel the ground beneath my feet turn into the sky had multiple hours spent reading stuff on ink and paper composition that ended up being... almost completely irrelevant 🤣 in terms of scenes and themes, my postcanon-grogleth series was definitely my most challenging. honestly my biggest weakness as a fic writer is that i can’t write a believable romance to save my life, and these two stories... are that. it was easier for me to write about everyone wrestling with grief than it was to write even a little pining, i’m just not good with it. it was also my first try at re-writing a fic from a different pov, so it was a big challenge to decide which moments to mirror and which to step away from.

🤍what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?: y’know, i can’t really think of one! i feel like my work is pretty straightforward and i haven’t had anything get really misunderstood before. i guess in general, once in a while people leave (very kind!) comments wanting something like what i’ve written to happen in canon - when that is never my goal as a writer. i don’t write stories that i want to see in whatever actual canon, i write things i want to have in my own version of it. if that makes sense? like, i didn’t write now this story was when swords were humble because i wanted cr to put out a fictional textbook, and i didn’t write most agitated hands, be my salvation because i wanted supergiant to add a knitting minigame to hades. i just wrote them because i wanted to have those things for my own imagination.

👐what do YOU get out of writing?: it’s 1000% the “i want to read this so i have to write it” feeling. i love comments and i love attention, but the primary reason i write is so i can go back later and reread my stories :P that being said i also go back and reread my whole ao3 inbox whenever i’m sad so. the outside validation does help.

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!: one thing about me is i have 183928493 WIPs at any given moment and i am excited about all of them. i’ve been having a lot of fun lately with a d&d-au for legally blonde characters that’s half very silly half the kind of awful realization that desire can be (i promise it’s not as pretentious as it sounds). i’m finally getting close to done on a dragon age:origins fic that’s been on the burner for about two years and that’s a super fun feeling!! i’m indulging in a woke-up-married pikelan vegas au that no one needs which has lead to a very nostalgic playlist (when waking up in vegas is the first song it can only be good). i've decided to actually break into andor fic and am currently working on a 'they should make this marriage worse by involving a third party' fic that's very 'i hate you so much'/'you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid also i hate you too'. and i’ve been working on now is the season again, which is entirely ‘haven’t you ever just wanted to destroy’ being narratively rewarded.

[anothanobody]

Decided to read Risks again since I miss it and Eren in chapter 9 really agitated me 😭

This excerpt made me want to gun down Eren (Basically his and Freesia’s whole talk about Mikasa)

“I still don’t understand why we are having this conversation. She’s a whore, I am a whore, thought you established that a long time ago. She knows her place and knows that I am married nothing else needs to be discussed, I fuck her so I don’t have to fuck random women.” He sighed, rubbing his temple. “You want to be my therapist? Or are you trying to get another opportunity to give me a blowjob? I usually call Bambi for that, no offence.”

“Hard not to know when they were coming to me asking me if she was good in bed or not. They thought I was already sleeping with her then.” He chuckled, knowing full well how after that he was having rough times getting it up without thinking of her. “Not going to lie, their bets were more than right, experienced it first hand, mouth and all. One hundred and ten percent recommended.”

🤢 I feel so bad for Mikasa, she doesn’t deserve it, she doesn’t deserve to be talked about like she’s a sex doll. And most importantly, Eren doesn’t certainly deserves her. At this point, I really want her to become tired of his shit and never come back with him again. He should grovel on his knees while drowning in sorrow.

And I completely share the same sentiment with Freesia on this;

She sighed in relief, sitting up straight and getting up from the chair. “I’ll be going, listening to you completely degrade her to a sex toy was not as much fun as I had imagined.”

Sorry for this long ranting 😭 but just you know, I really love your fics and aus. Whenever I’m not busy with my school and tasks anymore, I usually run to read your fics and aus. Look at how far you’ve become, you deserve all the praise! 👏 ❤️

mhmmm i get your feelings anon honestly. do i share them? not so much. i’ve seen people taking so serious this part when the entire talk was to get Freesia of his and mikasa’s back. like 112 with the table scene. he says things he doesn’t mean and he wouldn’t for sure talk about mikasa with his wife as the love of his life. that’s just putting mikasa as a target for whatever freesia wants to do. his process is if mikasa is indifferent to him, then it would be to freesia as well and they won’t be bothered in their little heaven. if freesia discovers is more than sex, but a whole relationship that he’s falling for, it can cause problems to mikasa more than anyone and he knows it.

he tells her even raw and harshly what freesia would think already, to make it quick. does mikasa deserve it? objectively yes. she intruded a marriage and is the mistress. personally no, she was manipulated into it and he initially played on her feelings for him and his own attraction for her.

by the way. Freesia is lying at the end 😭 this is a spoiler.

I’ll try to get the next chapter out shortly though i miss it too. thank you for reading 🤧🤧 thank you a lot! 💙🥹

[i-luv-sweets]

Can you write how the mercs are when they are jealous? (tf2 x reader imagene fluff) Thought this was cute

|How mercs are when Jealous| (Ima gonna explain which characters I find hard to write about in this as well)

Engie:

(hehe cmon yknow he is my number 1 guy)

Dell Conagher is a very reasonable man. Not only that but trusts you. So most of the time he isn’t bothered by people making advances to you. However whenever someone doesn’t take the hint or whenever you playfully flirt back he can’t help but get a little ticked. “Hey there baby girl how are you doin?” “I don’t know, what do you think?” “Y/N please stop.”

You find it very funny when he’s jealous, much to his dismay. He knows that you wouldn’t leave him but the texan just wants to clench his fists whenever the person talks on. Though he composes himself and starts a ‘friendly’ talk to the stranger. “So what’s yer job bud?” “I work at a bar.” “A professional bartender?” “No a janitor.” “Ah am an engineer with 11 PhD’s. But yer job is intersetin too.” Usually it’s you who has to tell the guy to back off or else Dell will keep flaunting his achievements in the poor guy’s face. You try to talk to him about it when you two are alone but he puts an innocent smile one. “Dell are you seriously jealous?” “Me? Naw, just givin tha boy some fun facts about me.” “And telling him about your sentry guns is fun?” “...It’s a fact.”

Scout:

(Scout is an easy one if ya could tell from the few stories, such a lovable dummy) Jeremy is the equivalent of a bratty and pouty kid whenever he gets jealous. He constantly wants your attention on him if a guy goes up to you. Scout would make up any kind of B.S to get your attention. Or just create a scene to get your attention. “What’s your name beautiful?” “My name-” “Y/N! Ya got ta see dis! Some guy started a bar fight and two of em are fightin!” “...Sigh Jeremy.” If the man doesn’t give up on his advances even with Scout distracting you, he is not afraid to throw hands or threaten the guy. He will not let some rando just try to get you. Cause he loves you too much to let you go. “Ey chucklenuts! Get lost or some of yer teeth are gonna be in my bat!” “Oh? That a threat string bean?” Whenever Jeremy gets jealous you tend to find it only a tad bit amusing. The rest is either annoyance or adoration. Because despite of annoying your man can be, he does make it cute sometimes. “Y/N Please let’s leave? Dis guy is flirtin wit ya and I want you with me only.”  “Ok you goober, let’s watch a movie at home.”

Demo:

(This man is easy to write I just don’t have much ideas for him tbh) Tavish would probably just be drunk throughout the whole thing. He knows you well enough that you wouldn’t leave him. So he trusts that you will stop their advances to you. However if some guy starts to flirt with you he isn’t afraid to make things awkward for the lad. “So gorgeous, how you feelin?” “Ah’m doin fine lad! Ey want some scrumpy?” You can’t help but double over with laughter whenever this kind of things happen. Your man will just beat the flirting man by flirting back or making them uncomfortable and you’re living for it. Sometimes you will even help him with the flirting.  “Tha lad’s starin at ya love.” “Why not both stare at him lovingly?” “great idea lass!”

If the guy doesn’t take the hint and keep trying Demo will leave the bar and come back with eyelander. Just hearing the sword talk about heads or just talking at all is enough to scare them away. If not then that poor man will have an arm or head missing. “Do ya want ta meet eyelander lad?” “No, I wasn’t talking to your girl I promise.”

Medic:

(Medic is slightly harder for me mainly because I just don’t have much ideas. But he’s fun to think about story wise) Josef doesn’t really understand  that the person is flirting at first. He just assumes that he’s complimenting you. But once he starts to catch on he starts to get a little agitated. Giving the man unnerving medical advice and talking about how he can give him a free examination. “Three uteruses can fit inside a human body! Vould jou like to try?” “I’m good thanks...” It makes you feel pity for the guy even though he was flirting with you. However it’s not like Medic let’s you see any operations anyway. He would like to keep you far away from his gorey experiments as to not scare you. So whenever things start to get riled up you usually have to pull Josef away before he cuts off the guy’s head. “I just vant to give zhem a check up!” “You and I both know you aren’t.” “But taube-” “Cmon we’re gonna just head to the park.” When the guy doesn’t take a hint of leaving you alone then Medic will gently nudge you away. He wants to have a friendly talk with them. You do your best to stop him but even when you leave, Josef will hunt the guy down. “I just vant to talk to zhem.” “You’re holding a bone saw let’s go home.” “I just vant to talk to zhem” “This is ridiculous...Josef come with me or i’m sleeping on the couch.” “Fine fine.”

Pyro:

(Pyro is a fun one to think about and I think is fairly easy to write but I have no ideas) Pyro doesn’t have much clue on what’s going on. He just sees a person talking to you. He let’s the guy talk as long as you aren’t uncomfortable. However when something catches his ear on the person flirting with you. He starts to get a little pouty and attention seeking like Scout but in his own way. “Ey there, wanna see what this shirt’s made of?” “...fire soon.” “What?” “Mmhmmm!!!” You don’t like it when Pyro sets people on fire. But sometimes ya let him if the guy is going too far. You’ll go out of your way to call an ambulance before you leave though. You’re not too mad at Pyro because you know he cares and also he protects you a lot. “Don’t set them on fire today please.” “Mphm?” “I’ll let you start a campfire in our backyard.” “MHMMM!” If the guy doesn’t give up his advances despite him getting his shirt on fire, Pyro is not afraid to give him a giant lollipop. The lollipop is really just a sledge hammer but you can usually make sure he doesn’t use it. “Pyro i’ll buy you marshmallows if you leave them alone.” “Mhm! Mhm! MHMMMMMMM!”

Sniper:

(Sniper is an easy one to write, I have ideas but don’t pull them through because sometimes they don’t fit him) Mundy can already tell somethings going to go bad once he sees someone walk over to you. He’ll grumble and mutter underneath his breath when the guy talks to you. He won’t act out because you will usually shoot the guy down on his advances. But on the off chance where you playfully flirt back to tease Sniper, he get’s all cranky. “Bloody bugger...my roo...dingo...drongo..” “Awe you’re so cute when you’re jealous.” “Oi’m not gonna encourage ya!” You just find it adorable to see Sniper all annoyed. You don’t flirt often because you don’t want him to feel like you don’t love him. But do you love it when he gets all poty or cranky about it. It’s just funny to see. “Hm? What’s wrong Mundy?” “Let’s go home..Bloody drongo’s ‘ere are annoyin.” “But I like them.” “Oi’m makin ya sleep in tha passenger seat than in tha van if ya don’t stop.” On the times where you don’t flirt and shoot the guy down, but he keeps flirting. Sniper will glandy shoot him down for you. Metaphorically and literally. He would most likely try to know his target first before he hunts them down. Of course he won’t tell you about what he’s planning to do though. “Wot’s yer name mate?” “Mace” “Well then Mace, oi hope ta see ya again.” “...Don’t you hate them for flirting though?” “Yeh, but i’ll let em go for now.”

 Soldier:

(ok now we’re going into the people I have the most trouble of writing. Soldier is the people I can’t write for shi-) Jane will not hesitate to neck snap any person that comes close to you. So most of the time people will stay away from this man. Since he gets jealous easily and will make sure that person will never see the light of day again if they even try. “Hey beauti-” “HUTTA!” “Aww Jane...and Ugh Jane!” You have mixed feelings about Soldier dealing with his jealousy. On one side you’re endeared that he cares but on the other side he’s kinda commiting crimes. So as an alternative you do your best to help Jane with his Jealousy. “Ok Soldier, when you’re jealous go punch the bag.” “I want to neck snap the communist.” “No, no, no, punch the punching bag or wall...Table is also acceptable.” “Can I smash a chair over their head?” “...I can cover medical bills yeah sure.” If for some reason the guy isn’t straying away from you and tries his luck. Soldier will do his best to contain his jealousy by doing what you’ve said. Yelling at the man to back off or punching a table to not commit another crime. “Back off maggot! This woman is mine!” “Ok! Ok! Ok!” “HUTTA!” “Well...at least you used a chair instead of the neck snap.” Heavy: (I guess heavy is easy to write but I just can’t write him that well. Cause I feel like I make him seem dumb when he’s not) Misha getting jealous? Ha! As if! No one even dares to go near you when you have this russian nearby. But if someone does ever try to flirt Heavy might side glare at them or make a displeased comment. “Hey can you put your elbows together?” “Leetle man is disgusting. Go away before Heavy crushes leetle man.” You don’t mind Heavy doing these sorts of things because he never really takes it too far. The most he will go is scolding or making comments to the person. That or he will just take you both out of the building to go home or just do anything else. It’s really nice that he can be a big teddy bear one moment and a protective grizzly bear the other. “Misha thinks Y/N is a very nice and sweet person.” “Aww Misha.” “Hey sweet cheeks wanna-” “Heavy says get lost or Heavy destroy baby man.” If the guy doesn’t take a hint and doesn’t leave you alone then Heavy will pull him to the side and talk. No fighting, just talk. Probably giving the man tips on how to get other girls than you. But if the guy gets physical then they are gonna end up on the roof. “Heavy thinks you must get other woman. My woman loves me not tiny man. Heavy is being honest.” “You want honest? I’ll punch honesty into your brain!” crash! “Uh should I call an ambulan-” “Het, we go home.”

Spy:

(Of all the people I can’t write this man. This man is frustrating because I can’t write his emotions. He’s all over the place. So I don’t write him.) Lawrence is very patient when it comes to other men trying to flirt with you. He knows that you wouldn’t leave him so he trusts you. But he can’t help but get agitated whenever someone just tries to flirt. When they do, Spy will just point out their bad qualities to you. “I can give you a good time baby doll.” “tch Like you ever could. With those cheap rags that ‘ou are wearing. I can assume ‘ou have no experience.” “Lawrence be nice.” You can’t really control Spy when this type of stuff happens. You know he does this because he secretly doesn’t want to lose you. So you are a mix of he’s trying his best and he’s getting out of hand. You just have to shoo the other man away before the poor guy will get his feelings hurt. “So sweetie wanna-” “If you don’t want to feel sad today, go away.” “Wha?” “Trying ‘our luck I see? Well of course someone as disgusting as ‘ou think ‘ou have a chance.” “...whaaa??” “Oh god you made him cry Spy.” If the guy goes too far and ignores spy’s degrading words then Spy will just pull you away. That or he will pull you towards him and kiss you passionately while giving the guy his middle finger. Just seeing that scene is enough for them to just give up. IF they don’t then, spy will just have to use his knife. “Spy dang it we’re gonna go to jail.” “Just get me some trash bags and we will be ok.”

[weeb-writor]

Bakugou Meets his Future Kids

Hiya! Long time no see! So I’ve been gone a while and today I was actually supposed to post the last part in the Aizawa mini series. That wont happen today because unfortunately even though me and my whole family have been super safe and only go to work and home I did test positive for Covid-19. I'm okay though just really drained and this was easier for me to finish. I'm hoping to have the Christmas fic up by the 28th at the latest, so sorry about that! For now I hope you can enjoy this! The kids do call reader mommy but there is no assigned gender! Anyone, any gender can be a mom!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

He meets his kids from the future in a troubling way

Words: 1896

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

It was supposed to be a normal day and it was for about 10 seconds. About 11 seconds in Bakugou had somehow been wrapped into a trip to the mall with most of the class. Bakugou prided himself on being a strong immovable boulder but when you asked could he come… lets say he had a temporary weakness. Now here he was at the food court as you all argued over what to eat.

“Is there a place that sells soba?” Todoroki asked.

“Even if there is, we aren't eating there! You always eat that!” Mina said, pointing at the boy who looked back a little deflated.

“I think we’ll be okay getting soba, his obsession with soba is super cute!” you said with a small laugh. This had Bakugou craning his neck. Only ever eating one thing was not cute, how could you think that!

“Like hell we are, Come on Y/n were getting a burger.” Bakugou said standing and pulling you away you didn't get far before you all heard someone crying and yelling. You and the rest of the class looked at each other once before you dashed in the direction of the cries. Arriving on the scene you see 3 kids surrounding a boy who was crying while one was holding back a girl who seemed to be crying in anger. 

“Hey what the hell is going on here?” Kirishima said in a scolding tone. The kids turn around and pale probably recognizing the group of soon to be Pro-Heroes.

“Nothing we should be going, later losers.” The kids said quickly scattering into the crowds at the mall. The girl quickly ran to the boy's side still crying.

“It's alright, you don't have to cry, I have a first aid kit if that helps.” You said trying to console the kids. At your voice both of the kids looked up at you before tackling you in a crushing hug, sobbing even more. You looked up at your class confused; they only shrugged at you.

“Mommy! I'm sorry, I took Hiroyuki from school and we followed you and then we got hit with that big scary guy's quirk and then we ended up here and we been here for like 2 days. I'm sorry!!” The girl cried, rubbing her eyes furiously.

“Uh um sweetheart, I'm sorry you got lost but my teachers will help you. We’ll find your parents I promise.” You said rubbing her checks.

“But you're our mommy.” The young girl sniffled.

“I'm not, you must be confused. I'm L/n.” You said, smiling at them as they seemed to tear up.

“That's not funny mommy, stop joking right now.” The girl said, shaking her head, more tears spilling from her eyes.

“Sorry kid they aren't joking, L/n doesn't have any kids.” Denki said, crouching to meet her eyes.

“Are you mad cause we didn't listen? Are you gonna send us away?” The girl said, beginning to cry even more.

“Stop making my sister cry!!” The boy said with tears in his eyes, the tears were short lived as explosion went off all around them. Everyone looked at Bakugou who was quietly watching

“It's not me, it's one of them.” He said with his teeth gritted. The class didn't have time to figure it out as the explosion stopped and they saw their teacher next to them.

“It’s always something with you guys. Hey kids I'm gonna need you to come with me so we can sort this out.” He said offering his hands to them which they didn't hesitate to take. The walk back to the school was relatively short and quiet. Now they were all sitting outside of recovery girls office waiting on some kind of news.

“I think i know what's happened. They kept calling you mom, right?” You nodded at her with a small smile.

“Well while I was trying to heal them I asked them some questions to make sure their heads were on straight. Their answers were very much incorrect to us but also not completely insane. For Example Dynamight, Deku, and Shoto are all top 10 heroes. The league of villains are no more and I'm dead. I examined their bodies and it seems they were hit with a time travel quirk from the looks of it. Not sure when it will wear off but my best recommendation is for them to remain under L/n and Easerheads care, I will check for any signs of it wearing off, every other day.”

“Huh? Is Easerhead their dad! Do you and L/n get married in the future?! That's kind of kinky…” Mineta said with a gross smile

“No, you creepy child. It seems they do like him though.” Recovery girl said with a sigh. You thanked her and went into the room.

“Hey, did recovery girl explain what happened to you guys?” You said as you approached them.

“Uh huh she said we went in the past to where you and papa were students. Like in the pictures on the walls.” The girl said.

“Mhm very good, so can you tell me your names? Then we can go hang out with my friends and eat something!” You said with a smile.

“Hiroyuki…” the boy mumbled.

“I’m Kaori!” The young girl cheered at you. You thanked them and guided you out the door and found your friends and teacher waiting. You led them to the dorm lunge where food was waiting on them.

“So which one of you have an explosion quirk?” Kirishima said as the kids were eating.

“We both do, kind of.” The girl said absentmindedly. “Mom says I make explosions from the heat of the food I eat, I like spicy stuff.” She said with a smile.

“Oh okay cool! But no spicy stuff for you.” Denki laughed at the girl who wasn't exactly happy.

“What about you, little guy?” Sero asked the younger one. The little boy looked at Sero before burying his face in his hands and shaking his head.

“Yuki, has a really cool quirk! Mom says he works like a gas stove! He leaks this stuff that's like propane! Then he can ignite it based on how he is feeling! Angry or emotional means bigger explosions! It comes from his pores or his hand.” The girl chimed in for her brother. He was upset at her words and ran to Aizawa.

“Sorry, we didn't mean to make you uncomfortable!” Mina said as she couched to the level of the boy who further hid his face into Aizawa legs.

“It's okay, kid, Bakugou has an explosive quirk, it's cool!” Denki said with his flashy smile.

“We don't care about that old man's quirk!” The girl said fresh tears on his face.

“What’d you say you little brat?! I’m not an old man!” Bakugou roared back to Kaori.

“You are a mean old man and I hate you! Its all your fault I'm stuck here without my real mom and papa! I hate you! I hate you so much Papa!” The little girl roared back before running back to you crying.

“Papa?” Kirishima echoed quietly.

“Kaori, you shouldn't yell at people or tell them you hate them it's a mean and strong word.” You said crouching down to her level and stroking her cheek.

“B-but it's all his fault. He said me and Hiroyuki were weak and and we couldn't do much because we're kids and it's best for us to stay out of Hero’s way! Like were burdens!” She said growing further agitated.

“And I was right, you followed your mom and you both got hurt when you shouldn't have been near the battle anyway.” He said with a frown.

“But that doesn't mean we are useless and can't do anything by ourselves! WE ARENT DUMB!” She yelled back at him.

“Future me didn't say you were dumb, he, I just want you to be safe. It's best for you and your brother to stay out of the way for now. However, that doesn't mean your a burden or dumb.” Bakugou said seriously. The little girl didn't say anything further and just threw herself into her your arms. Hiroyuki came from in between Aizawa’s legs and also threw himself at you.

“Okay enough mingling for today I guess, time for bed! I’ll be right back guys.” You said as you carried both kids off to your dorms with surprising grace. Once you were gone the group turned to Bakugou.

“Papa, huh Bakugou?!” Denki said with a chuckle.

“It's too surprising! I didn't even know you had a crush on L/N!” Mina said with a pout.

“Really? it was pretty obvious Bakubro had a crush though. Literal tiny explosions go whenever L/n is near.” Kirishima said with a cute head tilt.

“The hell they do.” Bakugou said angrily.

“No they do, I’ve had to stop them a few times now.” Aizawa said with his weird grin.

“I can't believe it though, they are so cute! Kaori is so much like you and I cant believe Hiroyuki’s quirk is so kickass!” Sero said rubbing the back of there necks.

“Well of course they got kickass quirks. With me and L/N as parents there’s no way they wouldn't!” Bakugou said flushed red.

“I'm just glad you cleared up everything with them. It would be pretty bad if they went back mad at the future you, or thinking something damaging like that.” Deku said with a sigh. Finally you were back with no kids, at least it looked like you didn’t have kids.

“So this parenting shit is pretty hard!!” You said as two figures came from behind your legs. They blushed before pointing to Bakugou and then back at your dorm.

“Use your words.” Bakugou said, cocking an eyebrow at the flustered kids.

“Story, Papa.” Hiroyuki slurred out.

“I'm sorry for saying I hate you… I didn't mean it.” The young girl said softly

“You better be, that's a strong word. Now let's go to bed.” Bakugou said nonchalantly as he picked up both kids and walked back to your dorm. The kids remained with you two for about a week and half. You learned lots like you and Bakugou have twins on the way and still want at least one more. Hiroyuki loves Aizawa because he is able to keep his quirk under control around him and they both have an addiction to cats. Bakugou is indeed amazing at everything except anger management. When they left it was during one of your cuddle sessions and boy did you cry like a baby.

BONUS:

“It’s been almost 2 weeks, where could they be?? What if they’re…” You said into Bakugou's chest.

“They’re fine, okay? Our brats are tough so wherever they ended up in time doesn't matter they’ll kick anyone's ass.” Bakugou said, trying to console you. You didn't get a chance to respond before you dogs went crazy at the knock at the door. You yelled for however it was to come in and you thought your mind was playing tricks on you.

“Don't worry they are just drowsy.” Aizawa said with the two kids in his capture weapon trailing behind him. Bakugou was the first to move and was on his knees, in tears in seconds.

“You idiots! Never, ever do that again.” He said hugging him like his life depended on it.

[theepisceswriter]

Jealous!Reader with AOT characters pt.2 (Porco, Bertholdt, Pieck, Zeke)

A/N: y’all really liked the first one I made here, so here’s a pt.2 with different characters

TW: none really apply, sort of suggestive for Zeke, Modern AU, GN!reader

PORCO GALLIARD

I am a firm believer that in a modern AU, Porco and Reiner would be the type of people to go to sport restaurants like Hooters, Buffalo Wild Wings, or Twin Peaks. They give me that macho man type of vibe. Of course though, Porco would make you tag along with him almost every time he went. He feels that it’s a very nice way for the two of you to bond. Which honestly it is.

You have a deep sense of security within yourself and enough trust in Porco to not be bothered by the waitresses there, as you should, knowing that it’s only their job to be enticing like that. Hell, you even enjoy it when the waitresses would flirt with you sometimes or you’d get the really pretty ones who look like they’re straight off of a magazine. Not to mention that you visit places like this often, so most of them know you and know that you and Porco are in a relationship together.

They all respect your boundaries and don’t try to push at them at all.....until this one waitress comes around. You can quite obviously tell that her flirting is different from the “trained” flirting that the other girls often do. She lingers at your table a little longer than she should be trying to talk to Porco to the point where other waitresses have to tell her to go check on other tables and she’s disregarding you completely, asking Porco questions that should be aimed at you and being very rude in general.

Porco is hardly paying her any mind, too focused on the game to really pay attention to what’s going on, but any piece of attention he gives to her she latches on too it. But still, you remain cordial and calm on the inside. Not wanting to come off as one of those significant others and cause a scene that doesn’t need to be caused. If someone looked at you for too long they might notice an eye twitch or two coming from you.

Really it’s Porco’s hand holding underneath the table that’s keeping you sane and reminding you of how secure your position in your relationship is. You almost calm down entirely, but of course the waitress has to come back and try desperately to get his attention again. At one point he zones out into the game and to try and get his attention she attempts to tap him on his shoulder.

Strong on the attempt because you grabbed her wrist before she could even brush her fingers against his shirt and gave her a stern “Aht! Aht! That is not going to be happening tonight and definitely not in front of me.”

And Porco, this menace to society, finally speaks up like, “I was wondering when you were finally going to say something. I was getting afraid that I didn’t mean anything to you anymore.” He would’ve eventually intervened himself though if she was actually successful in touching him.

The waitress gets the hint for the rest of the night, but just incase she doesn’t he holds you close to his side with his arm draped over your shoulders.

BERTHOLDT HOOVER

Despite his soft spoken nature and personality that sometimes falls on the shy part of the spectrum, Bertholdt is actually an easy person to come up to and start a conversation with. Of course, you have to be the one to start the conversation, but after that it’s like he can’t shut up, likes he’s compelled to answer back to everything and keep a conversation going.

It’s a trait of his that you’ve come to love, but also come to hate on days when you’re out in public with him and can just see the twinkle in a girl’s eyes when she’s getting ready to come over to him to flirt. It’s usually in awkward situations too like when you’re out shopping and he’s standing off to the side because he has no business looking at what you’re shopping for, so the fact that he’s kind of alienated from you and doesn’t know how to respond to flirting all that well in the first place really has him in an awkward chokehold.

He’ll get asked for his number and instead of saying flat out no, because he doesn’t want to be harsh, he struggles to let words out at all as he tries to think of what to say. And people really prey on his shyness and don’t even give him the chance to respond before they’re forcing themselves on him more, handing their phone out to him just waiting to input a number.

Imagine the shock and anger on your face when you turn around from your shopping happy ready to show Bertholdt what you got and instead you see a girl trying to get his number! You’re over there in an instant, legs carrying you as fast as they can and a scold on your face as you go over there and the first thing you do is push that phone as far away from him as you can.

“I know my BOYFRIEND and something tells me that he is not interested in the direction this conversation is going with you whatsoever, so I suggest you leave him alone before I make you 😤” The girl leaves like immediately after that.

Bert is just behind you the whole time with a ☺️ look on his face like “Yes, that is indeed my significant other!” Which is so funny because he’s like 6’3 and towering over you, but you’re the feisty one!

He does feel kinda guilty for not cutting off the interaction before it got that far, so he wraps his arms around you and nuzzle his face into your neck all like, “I’m sorry baby 🥺🥺 you know I don’t like anyone else but you 🥺🥺 I was trying to tell them no thank you but it wouldn’t come out 🥺🥺”

You couldn’t stay mad at him even if you wanted to, that’s all it takes for you to forget about it altogether.

PIECK FINGER

It’s almost impossible to see someone as fine looking as Pieck and not shoot your shot. If I saw Pieck out in public the first thing I would do is shoot my shot.

It happens allll the time whenever you two go out. Out at the mall shopping for clothes? Someone’s going to come up to you two and try to hit on Pieck. At the club minding each other’s business and trying to have a good time? Some guy is going to come over and try to ruin that for you too.

At first it was like a bragging rights thing for you. Everyone noticed your hot girlfriend was hot but you were the one who went home to her everyday and not them, but at some point it switched from a bragging right to down right annoying. It’s like you can’t leave her alone for more than a couple of seconds because here comes someone breathing down her neck being a weirdo!

Poor Pieck doesn’t even know what’s going on half of the time because she be baked out of her mind, thinking about nothing but how some ruffles and ice cream can really hit right now. So she’s just going along with the conversation like “mhm, yeah ☺️” every ten seconds hoping that they’d get the hint that she’s not thinking about them at all and to leave her alone. But, of course, they don’t.

Her body language becomes stressed out and agitated, not knowing what to do because you’re in the gas station buying snacks for the two of you while she’s far away at the gas pumps doing her best to get an ending with this weirdo where they don’t kidnap her.

Luckily, just on time you exit out the gas station and even before you get any closer to Pieck you’re already pissed off at the fact that someone is probably hitting on her, but after you see her do that awkward little shuffle with her feet signifying that she’s uncomfortable? You’re over there in a heartbeat.

See, maybe you would’ve been a bit nicer if her body language didn’t tell you that they had been pestering her for a while despite how everything about her screamed ‘not interested.’

So what do you do? You take the bottle of sprite you bought and bop them on the head with it. Head empty no thoughts just ‘protect my stoner girlfriend.’

Pieck is so messy too, she’s in the background like “Ohhhhh shit *giggle* fight! Fight! Fight!” You were ready to rumble too, but if you were so ready to hit them in the head with a sprite bottle the other person definitely didn’t want to know what else you were confident with doing. So they recuperated from their sprite bottle hit and went running to their car.

This was a proud girlfriend moment for Pieck the whole drive home. She could not stop talking about how much of a badass you were and how she loved that you would do anything for her.

ZEKE JAEGER

I wrote soft Zeke already, so now it’s time for me to give y’all the menace Zeke y’all have been waiting for.

Zeke is the type of significant other who’s big on teasing and messing with his partner is general. There’s something about seeing them all flustered after he does something to embarrass them, like fake propose to them in public or something, that really cracks him up. That being said, he’s not opposed to flirting with someone in front of you to get you riled up and see your reaction.

Let’s set the scene; He drags you to Sam Ash with him, because we’ve all just collectively decided that modern day Zeke is a music pretentious asshole, to go get something for his guitar or at least that’s what you assume he was complaining about. You weren’t even listening, just excited to go and mess with the drums and guitars there. It’s the first thing you do once you get there and Zeke sees this as his opportunity to finally mess with you.

He goes over to the drum set display you’re playing on and calls over and employee with “inquiries” about the set you’re playing on. He pretends to ask a few genuine questions at first but eventually he’s able to get the conversation to shift to something a little more personal. Which isn’t terrible, but once he starts throwing out lines like “Oh you like (said band)? I’ve always found myself gravitating towards people who like them. They’re always the most attractive people, I’ve found 😏.” Is when you start getting agitated.

You’re just trying to play We Will Rock You on the drums and here he goes killing your vibe immensely. And it’s hard to ignore when they’re standing right on the side of you. Not to mention how the employee is eating all of this up, blushing and all. It’s at the first mention of numbers being exchanged that you’ve decided you’ve had enough. Without a word to Zeke you get up and storm out of the store.

Was this a dick move on his end? Absolutely, but you’re a couple who’s relationship is filled with debating and bickering, bickering especially, so part of him thought you would play along with his little game and be like “Whatever. I don’t care.” But instead, you were genuinely upset. You didn’t even know where you were going but you were going somewhere. And that somewhere was the outside of the Sam Ash store because you realized you really didn’t have a choice.

Sorry guys, but I have to switch over to soft Zeke now.

He comes running after you, “y/n! Y/n it was a joke!” But that just makes you even more mad and oops, a year drops down your face and he feels terrible.

Kisses all over your face, words of assurance spilling out his lips, and a tight ass beat hug.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m such a dick I know. I didn’t mean to make you this upset though.” He would get down on his knees if he had to!

I guess you can forgive him just this once, but only on the terms that you get Sub!Zeke tonight and get to act as a pillow princess/prince cause he has a lot of making up to do.

[peakascum]

On the Edge of Eden

@slither-in-a-half​ hope you like this love! 

Click for song inspo! Moodboard?

His eyes traced your figure in a manner that could only be interpreted as boyish. His ears turned red, voice stammering with a little treble at the end, and his feet moved as if he were a newborn foal. He lacked confidence, his posture told you so- but could you blame the kid? You carried yourself with a graceful stance as if each wave and step were predetermined with consciousness and care. You were the talk of the gala, the name that slipped during tea time, the whispers that made it to the dirtiest corners of Small Heath. The youngest of the family, as was he. Common ground, he thought.

His feet carried him across the room, arms missing his aunt’s fingers by an inch and his brother’s angry whispers for him to stay put. They wouldn't care in a second, they would go back to their champagne and pretend that new money could buy them class and a new identity. He didn't think so or even care, not really; in fact, he didn't even try to hide his brummie accent or pretend to know which fork to use during dinner, even John struggled with that. 

Your eyes had been trained on him for a while, being there to catch his missteps and the occasional excessive laugh he’d hand out before the punchline was delivered. You too were conditioned to laugh at such jokes. At the meaningless banter that resonated through parties between nobles and esteemed families who had always looked down upon new money, like the Shelbys, which set the tone for your dislike towards your kin. Your mother groomed you to be a proper lady, bred to breed the finest that England had to offer in order to purify your name and- what else? How vain. 

The littlest Shelby had stammered his way through the entirety of the gala and held improper posture, which would only, and exclusively, be rectified when you tossed a wink or a silly face in his direction. It entirely went by his family’s head, but you did receive a proper kick to the shin from yours. It was just silly banter and perhaps a tad entertaining, much to his dismay, not in a way that would embarrass him completely, but just enough to taint his cheeks and further earn a glare from his siblings. 

The sillines, although flustered him, spoke volumes as to who hid beneath the expensive jewels and stoic expression. A girl, just a girl, who was anything but proper in the most intriguing and tasteful way. And it was in that utter lack of propriety that ignited a fire in his new dress shoes and sent him treading in your direction. 

He swiped two glasses from a nearby table and situated himself beside you. With a confident smirk he thrusted the glass in your direction, only slightly coating the floor beneath you, “A lady such as yourself shouldn't be drinking alone.” 

“A lady wasn’t, you just offered me a glass.” Your brow quirked in his direction.

“Y-yes, you seemed- thirsty. Had two in hand and you, glassless, appeared- uh-“

Your grin widened and brows shot up to your hairline, “-Unsatisfied?”

“I was going to suggest bored, but unsatisfied works too.”

 You giggled and took the glass from his hand, fingers grazing his smooth ones. You wondered just then how they would feel against your body and craved the touch of his fingertips, even just the the single caress of the tips, to edge across your face, to underline the blemishes that made up your young skin and maybe even leave a mark or two if they pressed hard enough against your hips. 

“For someone who seems to have it all, ‘unsatisfied’ is an odd word to use.”

“How so?”

“You're dripping in diamonds and you seem to walk as if you’d ‘ave a gun to your head.” He said it mindlessly, unbothered even, by the mere thought that you would immediately leave after such a remark. That’s why he detested these things. Upper class women seemed to be put off by talks of guns and mud. 

“Correct,” you hummed, “or a stick right up my arse.” His eyes darted to your face and then everywhere else to see if they heard. You just scanned the room. “My blood is blue and I shit diamonds, Mr. Shelby, doesn't mean I’m happy, or content, or-“

“-or satisfied.” He finished for you, staring intently at your profile. A small smile etched itself on your lips, “Or satisfied.”

“I’m Finn,” he said thrusting his hand in your direction, “Mr. Shelby is my brother.”

“Which one?”

“All- but really the one who does seem to have a whole tree branch up his arse.” This earned a whole hearted laugh from you, prompting a small chuckle from him. He made you laugh, genuinely. You turned in his direction and took his suspended hand in yours, and shook his hand with all the seriousness you could muster. 

“Well Finnegan Shelby it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Now, how about we drop this act, ditch the snobs and you show me how Small Heath does it.”

You welcomed the cold slapping of the wind as you would a warm hug. For a second, stillness and crickets. For a second, wires turned in question as to where should you go from here. Glancing towards his moonlit face you let out a heavy breath and hastily took your heals off, making you a couple of inches shorter than you already were. Finn offered you his arm for balance as the other clutched a whisky bottle he managed to snatch from the bar. With heals in hand, you raced through the filled and into the night. 

The skip in your step created a soothing rhythm with the howling wind, a melody you could get used to, one you prayed would come as often as life would allow it.

You lay on the ground surrounded by ramsons that had just started to bloom as Finn sat by your side, bending down ever so slightly to better view your features. Your hands nervously touched the diamond clad necklace that adorned your neck as you felt his eyes scan yours. For a girl whose entire life was spent under attentive eyes, his were the only ones to bring a jolt to your chest and an exuberant vitality to your entire being. 

“Watchful eyes you’ve got there.” His gaze shifted a little, as they did whenever you caught him watching.

“I can’t help myself.”

You cocked your head to the side and eyed him steadily, “Are you staring at my diamonds, Shelby? How pretty they shine under this light?”

“Shining rocks got nothing on you, love.”

“How flattering.” You scoffed. 

“You sound offended.”

“I despise lies, half truths. Men think that’s all that women want to hear. And some do, some eat it up and out of their hands as if they could never eat from their own.”

“You seem to take great interest in other’s concerns,” he said as you shook your head, “in matters and thoughts that imply your worth”

“I care not! I- I do not. It’s just a pity women are eyed like cattle and assumed to be foolish and of fallen grace!” You said, now agitated. Finn fancied the dark glow that came from your eyes, knowing he hit a nerve. You sat upright unlocking the necklace’s  hatch at the back of your neck. The rocks hit the limestone floor with a small thud no louder than that of a bird’s wings, and created a shimmering glare that adorned your face like small, expensive teardrops. 

“Your fit won’t change my mind if that’s what you're aiming at,” he provoked. You stood up with furrowed brows and hastily undid the back of your dress. His posture remained stoic but eyes widened in concern of your hurried movements. 

“What’s the matter Finn, aren’t women more rabid than men?” You chuckled as the dress slid  under the curve of your breasts, past your belly, and further pooled by your shoeless feet. Finn visibly gulped at the sight of your body in the delicate, silk slip. You stood proudly like a painting, a muse, waiting to be challenged and admired for his eyes, and only his. 

His head turned towards the house, which was only a dot in the mere distance, swallowed by music and acres of field. You stepped towards him towering over his sitting frame, took his hands in yours and placed them on your thighs, just below the seam of the slip. His cheeks turned a deep crimson that reminded you of the red pygmies that swam in the pond near your feet. “Suddenly at a loss for words, Shelby?”

He got up clumsily and towered over your body. Hands blended together in a pool of questions that should not and could not be answered with words, but with the mere touch of light grazes against his skin. How did he ever muster the courage to approach such a creature full of such beauty, whose aggressive approach to life had to be masked by the authoritarian glare of wealth and class. 

He knew where this was headed by your hurried kisses and the race of both hands. He halted your movements causing you to peer at him in a daze. “It’s not a race Y/N,” he said in a hushed manner.

“What’s the difference? You want me, you'll have me, and then leave,” you spat. 

“I want you, I’ll have you, and I’ll be back for more of you,” he paused to kiss your swollen lips, “for this,” he traced his lips over her breasts, “for more nights,” lips trailed to your belly, “no champagne, no diamonds. Just give up control, for once.” 

Your head tilted back as he nuzzled his head between your legs. His hands grazed the curves of your thighs while the wind nipped at your cheeks and flowers tickled your shins. The stars winked as the sky seemed to open up, all witnessing the spectacle that was just commencing. An exciting origin to an undoubtedly sublime love story. 

His soft fingers gripped your leg as he swung it over his shoulder, just as you imagined when you first accepted the glass in your empty glassless ones. 

Your sighs of pleasure mixed with his groans as he savored your juices, drinking you up like expensive cabernet. His tongue grazing the inside of your walls, kissing and nipping your bundle of pleasure, humming at your whines and muttering small praises full of lust and adoration. A garden of sinful pleasure built for the two.

*BONUS SCENE*

In the distance Tommy and Arthur stepped out into the balcony to get some air, the room suddenly seeming stuffed with snobs and meaningless conversation. They shared a cigarette and nursed their drinks, for a moment appreciating the quietness that spring brought every year. As Tommy dragged on about titles and politics, Arthur fixed his eyes in the distance, squinting and questioning if his mind was finally going mad. 

“Tom?” He stuttered. His brother held a hand up, “I know it’s the same shit with Mosely. Like a fuckin’ riddle-“

“Tom,” Arthur interrupted again, eyes widening as he stared at the distance. 

“No, it is! But if we ever catch-“

“Jesus fuck Tom, shut the hell up ‘bout the coppers and the bloody earls!” He said agitated. Tommy swirled his head to look at his brother’s rigid body. Arthur pointed into the distance, “There, Tom. There. By the tree, over the pond.”

Tommy followed his finger, having to squint his eyes to see the clear image.

“Fucken’ hell is that-“

“Fucken’ Finn!” Arthur cackled, choking on his own spit in the process. 

Tommy’s jaw slacked in complete and utter shock, “This fuckin’ kid I swear to God,” he muttered under his breath. Brow furrowing as his eyes scanned the property, suddenly worried that his brother’s laughter would attract attention to the scene that unfolded before them in the mere distance. “All right, all right Arthur- fuck,” he said as a small smirk formed on his stoic face. 

“Tom I can’t breath, I mean this is-“ Arthur howled, “this is almost fuckin’ biblical!”

“Arthur shh, okay okay just don’t-“

“Fuckin’ Adam and Eve shit Tom!”

[ahopelessromantic]

No Grave ➳ S. Reid

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: mentions of blood, surgery, a gun wound, quite some angst, Spencer and Reader are next level whipped for each other

Is there truly nothing that can get in-between true love? Spencer and you are forced to find out in the most painful way. 

(A/N: I kind of let myself get away with this one, it’s dramatic af lmao. But I listened to Hozier’s Work Song while writing it, so can you really blame me?)

Derek Morgan normally prided himself in having fairly quick reflexes. He had played college football, his rifle scores had always been consistently good, he was able to take down an unsub in less than a minute. But none of that had helped him when a psychotic suspect had shot down his best friend. He had to watch it happen as if it was in slow motion, his voice failing him and not even allowing him to yell out a warning. Spencer had sunken to the floor with a surprised look, blood already beginning to seep through the fabric of his shirt. He coughed weakly and immediately all of Morgan’s attention was on him. Full of worry, he barely even noticed Hotch arriving on the scene and taking down the suspect. “(Y/N).” Spencer spluttered out; his voice hoarse. Now, all of a sudden, everything was happening way too quickly. Morgan frowned in confusion at his friend’s words. “Is that the Unsub’s accomplice? Come on, Reid, stay with me.”, he growled, applying pressure to the gun wound. But he could feel Reid’s body growing limp. “Call (Y/N).” Was the last thing Spencer weakly whispered before passing out.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Emily hummed calmly, placing her arm around Morgan’s shoulders. He took a deep, shaky breath and shook his head. “Then why am I here and he isn’t? Why wasn’t he wearing his goddamn vest?!” He made a move to get up in agitation, but Prentiss pressed down on his shoulder, effectively stopping him. “You know Spencer would have taken it off to negotiate with or without your blessing. And blaming yourself isn’t going to help anyone right now. We’ll know more soon, okay?” He nodded, burying his face in his hands. It had been three hours of surgery already, and it wasn’t looking good for Reid. “Has Garcia found anyone with the name (Y/N) in the unsub’s life yet?” JJ shook her head, watching Morgan and Prentiss with a worried look on her face. “Nothing. Are you sure he said that name?” Morgan was about to snap at her, mad that she dared to criticize his memory at that moment, but then a nurse headed their way. They must have made up an odd group, just a bunch of tired-looking agents draped over various chairs and even the floor. “You’re with Doctor Reid?” This time there was no way for Prentiss to stop Morgan, he jumped up from his seat and towered over the unsuspecting nurse. “Finally, we see someone from your staff! Do you know how long it’s been since we’ve gotten any updates?” The nurse flinched, then regained her composure and straightened up to meet Morgan’s glare head-on. “If you’ve been here for so long already, you probably know that we’re not allowed to give you any information on the patient.” Morgan visibly deflated. “Can you at least tell us if he’s alive?” The nurse sighed, a conflicted look on her face. “Listen, his emergency contact is on its way. Maybe they can tell you more.” With that she disappeared down the hallway, leaving behind a clueless team. “Reid has an emergency contact?” Rossi asked but only got confused faces as an answer. After that, it was back to waiting. Just when Morgan thought he was going to lose his mind; someone came their way again.

You were sure you looked like an absolute mess. You had woken up from a terrible nightmare, and ten minutes later the hospital had called you. Before the staff member had even begun to speak you had already known that something was wrong. Like a madman, you had bolted through your apartment and carelessly gotten dressed. You were sure you had forgotten about half your purse���s usual contents back in your apartment. With some spare clothes and a hot to-go cup of coffee, you had gotten into your car and driven as fast as never before in your life. At some point, you had either switched on autopilot or gone into shock, or maybe even both. It was only in the hospital’s garage that you tuned back in, wondering how you had even gotten there in one piece. Upon seeing your reflection in the elevator up to the ICU you became painfully aware of the fact that you were wearing Spencer’s sweater. And with that, your emotions overcame you, threatened to pull you under like a deathly avalanche. With tears streaming down your face you made your way to the front desk, stating your name as calmly as possible. Your whole body was shaking and after the first whiff of hospital air you threw up into the nearest trash bin. One of the nurses had been so kind as to lead you to a waiting area and explain that Spencer was still in surgery. The people sitting there matched the descriptions of his team members and you weakly smiled at them. “You’re with Spence, right?” One of them jumped up from his seat and nodded, looking at you expectantly. “He’s- They told me he’s still in surgery.” Was all you were able to bring out before you broke down sobbing. A woman with dark hair pulled you into a much-needed hug, and if had you been less worried about your loved one’s wellbeing you would have felt bad about ruining her shirt with your tears. “I’m sorry if it seems insensitive, but I think we all have to ask.” A serious-looking man spoke up once you had slightly calmed down, now sitting next to the kind woman in one of the hospital’s dingy chairs. “Who… are you?” You were still so deep in thought that you hadn’t even heard the question, absently playing with the ring on your left hand. It was a habit Spencer normally called you out on, taking your hand whenever he spotted you doing it. It was also how the team’s glances landed on your ring, their breaths catching in their throats. “I’m Spencer’s wife.” You said with a heavy voice, swallowing down a sob. The team looked like they were about to bombard you with questions, but then a serious-looking nurse made her way over to you. You felt every single muscle in your body tense up. “Doctor Reid is out of Surgery.” For a moment you felt as if you were floating, ready for more good news, but upon seeing the expression on her face you could swear your heart stopped for a moment. “Would you please come with me?” You nodded and got up, your legs feeling like jelly. The nurse led you to the front of a hospital room. “You can go in and see him now, but I have to warn you. Your husband suffered a gunshot to his heart, and although the surgery has been successful, he’s still in a critical condition. He’ll only be somewhat safe once he makes it through the night.” You nodded, and without stopping to think for a moment you stepped into the room. If your heart hadn’t been broken before by the mere prospect of never looking into Spencer’s beautiful eyes again, it would have surely shattered into pieces now. Seeing his lifeless body on the hospital bed filled you with an indescribable ache like someone was physically trying to claw their way through your chest on the search for your now cold heart. The hot tears on your cheeks were the last reminder of warmth in your body, and you quietly whimpered. You sank into the chair next to his bed and felt yourself completely break, burying your head in the hard mattress. The eerie beeping of the heart monitor and the sound of the oxygen tank posed the soundtrack of your demise and for a while, you completely lost all track of time. You had known that his work was dangerous, and you had always been somewhat prepared for something bad to happen one day. You set up as his emergency contact was proof of that, of a partnership whose very essence it was to constantly fear losing each other. But nothing could have ever prepared you for this, sitting next to his pale form and feeling like you had been shot just as bad as him. It didn’t quite want to fit into your head, that this could be it. This could be the last breaths you would ever witness him take and it made you want to scream in pain. If everything had gone according to you, your life with Spencer had been nowhere near to being over. Hell, it had only just started. You gripped his hand, more to anchor yourself than anything. “Spence, baby. Do you remember the day we got married?”, you whispered in a last fit of broken hope. Maybe talking to him would bring him back to the land of the living, bring him back to you. Your wedding had been such a spontaneous decision, and yet, somehow, it had been the best day of your life. You had been speaking about the concept of marriage over breakfast, how commercialised weddings had become over the years, and then suddenly he had looked at you over the rim of his coffee mug and asked you if you wanted to get married today. There hadn’t even been any nervousness in his voice, he had been so certain that this was the way for you two to go. You had laughed at first, asked him if he was crazy, to which he had just retorted that he was crazy about you. “Nothing is going to change anyway. I’m yours and you’re mine for the rest of our lives, right? Might as well save some taxes while being together.” His words had been so profound that you hadn’t even had the chance to say no. So, that day, you in your prettiest sundress and Spencer in his best suit, the two of you had gotten rings from the jeweller around the corner and then driven to the courthouse where you had signed your lives away to each other. Now, sitting next to him in the glum hospital room, all of that seemed like a far-off memory. A sunlit moment of joy in a now so dull seeming world. “Your life is mine, and my life is yours, remember?” You whispered with an aching soul. “My life is going to end with yours and I’m not ready for that yet, okay?” Your voice broke. “I’m not ready to say goodbye to you yet.” You started sobbing again, and at this point, you were surprised you even still had tears in your body left to cry. All night long you weren’t able to get a minute of sleep, your gaze continuously fixed on the rise of his chest. If he was going to stop breathing, you had to be there. A doctor came by to check on Spencer in the early morning hours, looking somewhat hopeful. “He’s made it through the night, that’s good. Your husband is a fighter, Mrs Reid.” You almost hugged the poor guy, so grateful to finally have received good news again. “He should be waking up slowly, once he’s awake we can transfer him to a regular care room.” You nodded and looked back to Spencer, hooked up on various machines and tubes. The shadows under his eyes were dark, and although you wanted nothing more than to see his face full of life again you wished he would just take his time waking up. Normally you always had to force him to go to sleep. The team had been a huge help in keeping you sane, all of them had been camping out in the waiting area, waiting for any kind of news. Of course, you had wished to meet them under different circumstances, but nothing to bring you together like your husband almost dying, right?

Spencer woke up around noon. At first, you hadn’t even noticed it, but then his hand had twitched next to yours and your brain had immediately switched back into hyper-focus. He scrunched up his face, and then with the faintest morning voice ever he mumbled out a quiet “Ow.”. You started laughing and crying at the same time, pressing kisses all over his hand. “Why does my chest hurt?” He grumbled; his eyes still closed. “You were shot in the heart, honey.”, you reminded him, your voice almost matching his. It was then that he opened his eyes and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. You were never again going to forget how beautiful they looked. He weakly gripped your hand in his, his expression still more confused than anything else. “Is that why everything hurts?” You laughed and nodded, leaning your forehead against your joined hands. “I’ll go get the doctor in a minute. But do you even know how much you scared me?” Spencer lifted your chin and looked at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. “How does that song you like so much go again? No grave can hold my body down, I’ll crawl home to her? You’re not getting rid of me that easily my love.” You breathed out in relief, leaning into his touch. “I love you so much, Spencer.” For a whole moment you got lost in his eyes, and it was there you knew that you were never going to take another moment with him by your side for granted. You were going to hoard them like a greedy madman and hold onto them until age or death would have to pry them from your hands. But then life picked up its normal speed again, doctors came swarming into the room to check on Spencer and you were filled with nothing but gratefulness to the universe for giving you more time with him, more time to make memories for your collection.

With a smile on your face, you watched the team spill into the room, all of them looking more than happy to see your husband alive. It had been two days since the surgery, and the nurses had only now given Spencer the clear for visitors again. Morgan sat down across from you, punching Spencer in the shoulder as gently as possible. “That’s for almost dying on me, and for not telling us that you’re married! We could have notified her much sooner, man.” Spencer had half a heart to look guilty, distracting himself by playing with your wedding ring. “You guys know how dangerously close Unsubs sometimes get to us. (Y/N) is all I have; I couldn’t risk her ever getting hurt. It’s got nothing to do with you, I promise.” Emily crossed her arms, looking down on Spencer in feigned anger. “Well, that’s good because we really happen to like your wife. She forced us all to sleep while she was waiting for you to make it through the night.” Spencer’s eyes met yours and you basked in the warmth flowing through you. He already had a cheeky grin on his tired face again. “Why does that sound so familiar?” You chuckled and rolled your eyes, gripping his hand even tighter. There was no way in hell you were going to remove yourself from his side during the next few weeks. After a few days he was cleared to return home, and you couldn’t wait to have your home feel like just that again. Home just wasn’t the same without him.

“Sir, you have absolutely no business still looking this good after getting shot in the heart.” Spencer laughed in surprise, shoving his wet hair out of his face. He had taken his first shower by himself today, finally able to fully move his arms again without ripping the stitches open. “Honey, I haven’t worn anything but hoodies and sweatshirts since getting back from the hospital.” You could see the familiar blush on his cheeks he got whenever you complimented him, and it filled your chest with warm honey to see him like that again. “Still. Being alive suits you.” He rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless, getting into bed and patting the empty spot beside him. “I know it’s early, but come sleep with me?” His painkillers made him constantly tired, but you’d prefer a sleepy cuddly Spencer over a Spencer in pain any day. “Like you even have to ask.” You giggled, turning off the lights and cuddling up next to him. “I know it’s a weird question.” You spoke into the darkness after listening to your husband’s calm breathing for a while. “But when you were on the other side… did you see anything?” You could feel his chest vibrate with a half-hearted chuckle next to you. “Go to sleep, (Y/N).” You shook your head and further curled up into his size. “I’m gonna need to hear you breathing for at least thirty minutes more before I’m able to fall asleep.” He took a deep breath and started drawing circles on your skin through the fabric of the ratty old MIT t-shirt of his that you always slept in. “It was just… lonely. And cold. So cold. For some reason, I knew you weren’t there. So I decided not to stay.” You tried to wipe away the tear that had snuck down your cheek as discreetly as possible. You had expected many answers, but nothing quite like this. “God, I love you.” You whispered with a trembling voice. Spencer turned to fully face you and caressed the side of your face. “I love you too. More than you can even imagine. But you should sleep now. I’ll still be here tomorrow, I promise. I’m never letting go of you again.” You nodded and snuggled into your pillow, a hand on Spencer’s chest. “Are you… checking for my heartbeat?” Eyes already closed, you giggled. “Shhh. I’m not letting go of you again, either.” With that, the two of you fell asleep. Spencer hadn’t lied to you. He was still there the next morning, and every morning after that as well for many more years. No matter how dangerous life became, he was always going to crawl back to you and you to him. No graves could hold your bodies down.

[noxiatoxia]

Hey sharty what's your favorite klapollo headcanon *bites lip*

sharty my little farty

ANYWAYS that's a big fuckin questions cuz there are so many HCs I like...

A simple one I enjoy is that. Klavier is not a morning person. He hates getting up early and rather work well into the night bc that's what inspiration hits. Apollo on the other hand is used to getting up rather early, so he's always outta bed before Klavier.

Another one is that, since Apollo canonically is into guro manga and anime (what a degenrate), I like to think Klavier is the opposite. Ofc he can handle it, it's his job to, but it's never fun to look at it. He often leaves the police to do the investigating in canon, so he's def hands-off and I don't think he likes to get too close to a dead body.

Anyway, Apollo is a menace who will trick Klavier into watching this "fun new anime" he found and it's like. Fucking corpse party. Klavier is not very happy about this.

On the flip side, Klavier can get Apollo back by being like "sorry we can't take the car :(( only the motorcycle :((" bc Apollo fucking hates being on that thing. Scared to death of heights and things that go fast.

Also more on just the Klavier side of things, but I hc Klavier having ADHD and bipolar. He struggled a lot in school and frequently got bad grades/detention, and starting high school he started getting - rather, developed much more rapidly and noticeable in a short time - violent mood swings. His brother and (admittedly toxic) friends never really took them seriously and thought he was just being a dramatic teenage boy bc y'know hes a rockstar course hes gonna "act this way" even tho it was very clearly not a normal thing. He also ID'd as nonbinary when he was younger but Kristoph, while not outright a whole dick about it, made Klavier doubt his choice since he still used he/him and etc and basically inched him along to thinking "yeah this is dumb lol". Apollo, being gay (and also..... Call me Cringe but I hc he's also demiboy who sometimes uses she/her and you can pry that from my cold dead hands) and struggling with his own mental illness issues very quickly realized the more time he spent with the Klavier the more he was very obviously........unwell. But like Klavier never really. Thought about all the issues he faced (and lets be real being in the idol scene 17 or younger leaves trauma too) or about his identity, since he was always just kinda shut down by the people around him. Apollo was basically the first person to say "hey you know wanting to die one day and spending the next thinking you're a literal god isn't normal." Bc hes blunt like that but it was p useful here. They both need fucking therapy but self reflection is the first step

AH also .. Apollo canonically hates loud noises (pot meet kettle but i digress) so if he ever were to live with klavier, klavier would quickly realize how agitated and angry Apollo got whenever Klavier blasted his music at full volume in his office (bc he works like that somehow). It's kinda a sensory thing for Apollo and just in generally really irritating and makes it hard to literally do anything. Klavier probably realized how bad an issue it was when he came out of his office for a moment one day and it was like 9pm and apollo left a note on the counter that said smth like "I am going to sleep on mr. Wright's couch tonight". Klavier got his whole office soundproofed afterwards and vowed to turn it down a little, just in case,,

UH that got long oops. I just like talking abt them...

[mcmactictac]

DID YOU READ THE NEW CHAPTER OF NO CAUSE FOR CONCERN BECAUSE I JUST HAVE AND I AM FREAKING OUT HDKDJDK

@hopefully-not-the-ghostbusters MHM YES I DID (spoilers for chapter 23 of no cause for concern ahead)

Mhm much to discuss here let’s start with my obligatory photo dump

yiKES. How are the found family enthusiasts with crippling low self esteem and severe guilt feeling tonight!

Very good chapter, I loved the first sleepover chapter so a second one was great. The more domestic things like mariokart, and all of the drama too. Let’s break it down shall we.

Tommy and Ranboo have my whole heart. They care about each other so much and they bounce off each other so well. It’s clear how much ranboo is trying to protect tommy. Their dynamic is so good it’s one of my favourite things.

Crimeboys my BELOVED. The edition of the tension with ghostbur has been wonderful, especially with ghostbur knowing Tommy’s secret now and keeping it from Wilbur. Watching tommys guilt skyrocket when he realizes Wilbur is in pain because ghostbur is protecting him. Wilbur cares so much for him and he’s such a consistent positive support. He doesn’t push too hard but is always there. Very excited to see how Wilbur will react when he eventually figures out tommys identity.

I swear techno already knows. He should. It would make sense. He’s protective over tommy but In a different way. He lets things slide and doesn’t ask nearly as many questions as everyone else. And with the amount of time he spent with Theseus, how could he not know?

Ok ok theory time. So popular theory brought to you by one of my friends is that Ranboo is the man in the alley that threatened to kill Tommy. Now I’m not personally a huge fan of this one but the ogic is the emphasis on the figure being tall, and the fact that Ranboo texted saying he was going to be late right afterwards. Now I see multiple flaws in this like I feel like tommy would recognize Ranboo’s voice, Ranboo would supposedly be at the police station like. Many plot holes. That being said with the end of this chapter Ranboo lying about the interviews is a possibility. Is it egg related? Is it enderwalk related? Good questions I do not have the answer too. There’s multiple different directions this could go and be interesting so I’ll leave it untouched for now.

But talking about my egg theories!!! So anyone who all is at schlatts right now (I don’t remember who all is there) but I KNOW Dream and Puffy stayed. I stand firmly by the fact both of them are infected by now. We haven’t heard from puffy in ages, Phil even commented on it. She used to check in regularly and then she just. Stopped. Now specifically that scene with dream and tommy in the hallway seemed very out of character for what we know of dream. He didn’t seem to have problems with Tommy before.

From what we have seen of egg infected people they get much more aggressive, agitated quickly, angry and upset. Both Skeppy and Bad are full of anger and snap at Tommy incredibly quickly. Dreams behaviour in that scene lines up with this. He gets unnecessarily angry, and is aggressive and violent with tommy when he doesn’t need to be. This is a big shift from whenever we’ve seen his character before this. And if I remember correctly at some point the dream team joins him. So George and Sapnap are likely infected by now too.

I’m also a firm believer in this theory because I think it would be fun to have Tommy fight an egg infected Tubbo. Tubbo who has the enhancement of being able to grow things. Tubbo with the power hungry father. Suddenly Tubbo isn’t looking so “useless” anymore. It’s unclear how the egg works in this story, but if it’s anything like canon it’s some kind of plant. It grows and spreads and infects. Sounds like something Tubbo could control, for better or for worse. Also I just miss Tubbo he was cool.

Now with everything I just said about the egg let’s go back to ranboo. He doesn’t display any of these signs, at least not around tommy. Now there’s two possibilities here

Ranboo genuinley doesn’t remember. Like that kid at the hospital, he just kinda blacked out and when he snapped out of it he didn’t know what was going on. Ranboo could just be affected when he isn’t around Tommy. The incident at work that caused him to get fired? Might not have been the enderwalk. It could be the increased aggravation and violent tendencies infected people have

Now the other thing to consider is that Ranboo is not aggressive with Tommy in the slightest. He has still been kind and gentle to him, despite the story trying to steer us in a direction of suspicion and mistrust for him. Although something is up with Ranboo, I think we might be being purposefully misled as to what it is. This isn’t the first pattern of odd behaviour with Ranboo, it could just be a coincidence it happened after the egg incident.

Many thoughts. Head full. As you can tell. Very good chapter though I enjoyed it and I’m excited to see where the next update will go!!

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

BTS DRABBLE-Jeon Jungkook

You never expected to see him again-let alone date him-but here you are, five years after first meeting him, and now you’re pretty sure you’re in love with Jeon Jungkook. He’s always been sweet, and clever, and somewhat quiet, and he’s definitely always been this good looking, however, there’s something different about him now-and it’s not that he’s really into Tiktok challenges and speaks all the millennial slang fluently. No, it’s something you can’t quite put your finger on. Something that makes you more intrigued in Jeon Jungkook than ever before. The same something that seems to have him staring at you intently whenever he thinks you’re not looking, as if he’s just waiting to kiss you- or more accurately, to taste you. 

Tags: BTS, Bangtan Boys, Bangtan Seonyendan, Bulletproof Boy Scouts, Beyond the Scene, BTS Drabble, Fluff, Jeon Jungkook, BTS!Vampires, Bangtan!Vampires, Vampire AU, Vampire Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook x you, Jungkook x reader, 

Genre: Fluff

Title: Theories of a Vampire

“Do you want a sip of this? It’s really good.” You ask your boyfriend as you take another sip of your iced mocha latte, tilting your head in his direction, offering him a mischievous smile as you shove the drink toward him. 

“Ah, no. I’m good.” Jungkook hurries to say, and his tongue slides out to wet his lips, as he glances away from you and stuffs his hands into his hoodie pocket. “I’m not thirsty.” 

“Suit yourself.” You shrug and take another gulp of the drink, sliding your hand into his-icy fingers cold against his own which are long and warm in your grasp-as you continue to walk through the park. 

It’s a pretty day. Warm, the air losing a bit of its chill, and you’re glad you had agreed to skip the last half of work to spend it with Jungkook. 

Speaking of.

Glancing over at your boyfriend once more, his brow furrowed as if he’s lost in deep thought, you nudge his side, and when he finally focuses back on you, you raise a brow at him curiously. “You okay? What are you thinking so hard about?” 

“Nothing.” He shrugs off your question and reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck with his free hand, a nervous tic he always did, and had done since you had first met him in your biology class freshman year of college. 

You pull him to a stop, and shoot him a stern look, as you toss your now empty cup into a nearby trash can. “Jeon Jungkook. You’re worried about something. Tell me what.” 

“I’m not worried per say-” Jungkook starts to protest, and at your fierce expression, backtracks slightly, letting out a defeated sigh as he glances up at the filtered sunlight streaming down on the two of you. “Okay, fine. It’s a big deal for the hyungs to invite you to eat with us, and I’m just nervous okay?” 

You arch a brow at him, and reach out for his free hand, taking both in your own, as you pull him toward you, and lean up to press a quick kiss to the end of his nose. “Why? You think they won’t like me? Come on, Kookie, what’s not to like?” You tease gently, fingers stroking across the skin that covers the backs of his knuckles as you wait for his reply. 

“Of course they’ll like you.” Jungkook blurts out, and he screws his eyes shut momentarily, wrinkling his nose in the adorable way he does when he’s agitated, the way that makes him look like a bunny. He opens his eyes once more, and looks down at you, before he sighs and admits quietly, “I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about me.” 

His statement is odd, but you don’t question it. At least not out loud. 

Because Jungkook has changed a bit since you first met him-changed a lot actually. 

When the two of you had met that fateful day in biology class, becoming lab partners first, and then friends later, Jungkook had been introverted, but polite and sweet and someone you wanted to befriend. He had stuttered his words when he was nervous or excited and had had the biggest, brown, doe eyes you had ever seen. 

And now-years later-after losing contact and reconnecting and discovering that there might be some sort of truth to the bullshit that is best friends to lovers tropes-Jungkook was not the same. 

He was still sweet and quiet and thought before he spoke, and he still stuttered when he got excited, but he wasn’t the same boy you had met all those years ago. 

No, something was different about Jeon Jungkook-he was heavier, a little more serious, and definitely more responsible than before-and you attributed most of those changed personality traits to simply maturity and growth. 

However. 

There was something about Jungkook-the new Jungkook-that had you constantly fighting the urge to be with him constantly-like a moth drawn to a flame. The way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching-those big, doe brown eyes large and dark with blown pupils and some sort of emotion that made your stomach warm pleasantly with desire-it was dangerous. 

And you were helpless in the face of whatever it was. Whoever he was. 

You pull yourself back to the present, only to find said subject of your deep thoughts watching you in the way you had just been imagining, and you have to look away, look at something else, before those endless eyes swallow you whole and you lose yourself completely. 

You clear your throat, and tug at his hand, resuming your walk through the park. “Kookie, you live with them. They’re your roommates. I’m sure they won’t judge you if you act a little stupid around your girlfriend.” 

“Wait. I act stupid around you?” Jungkook jogs to match your pace, and you hear the offense in his voice, as you tuck your emerging smile back behind the barrier of your lips and turn to face him, walking backwards, as you force down a giggle at the affronted look he gives you. 

Damn. He’s so cute. 

“Only sometimes.” You quip back, and as he opens his mouth to protest once more, you reach out and tap the end of his nose with your fingertip, effectively shutting him up, as you let out a laugh and continue walking, swinging your joined hands between you.

*******

The first thing you think as Jungkook pulls you up the sidewalk toward his apartment later that night is-Holy shit, what do these guys do for work? 

Because this is not a typical, six guys living together out of college, run down, bad neighborhood housing unit. 

No, this is a penthouse, in a gated community, and you’re fairly certain there’s the shimmer of a pool out back beneath the moonlight. 

The second coherent thought you have-as Jungkook leads you inside, and you’re greeted by his six male roommates is-Holy shit, how are they all so hot?

And you’re pretty sure your mouth is gaping open as each of them greet you and introduce themselves in turn, before escorting you both to the dining room-an actual old timey dining room-where dinner waits. 

And now, here you are, sitting at the long table with Jungkook on your right and one of the boys on your left-the one who seems to be just the right mix of extremely handsome and mischievous, Taehyung?-raising a bite of the opening course of soup to your lips. 

Damn. It’s delicious. 

Your eyes go wide, and the man across from you-the blonde one, tall and looking like a movie star, Seokjin?-offers you the hint of a smile, as he arches a brow in your direction and asks, “Enjoying the food, (Y/N)?” 

“Immensely.” You say, and you can’t stop yourself from taking another bite. 

Seokjin chuckles, the sound pleasant and soothing, and then bows his head slightly in your direction, and you can’t help but notice how small the spoon looks in his large fingers. “That’s a compliment then, so I should thank you.” 

“You made this?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself, and a few of the other boys stop mid quiet conversations to glance over at you with amused expressions on their beautiful faces. 

You blush, but luckily, Jungkook comes to your rescue, his hand finding yours beneath the table, as he leans over and says proudly, “Jin-hyung is one of the best cooks around. He can make anything taste great.” 

“I believe that.” You nod, already hungrily diving back into the delicious bowl of soup before you without a second thought, missing the look of fond amusement that crosses Jungkook’s dark eyes as he watches you. 

Also missing to note-perhaps more important-that your bowl of soup is the only one that seems to be lessening in contents. 

*****

Later, you are sitting beside Jungkook on one of the couches in the den, legs crossed beneath you, as you sip some sweet, candied cocktail Seokjin had made you all, and as the alcohol warms your veins, and the men around you chatter and laugh quietly amongst themselves, you feel slightly more comfortable than you had at the beginning of the night. 

“So.” You glance over at your boyfriend, as his arm comes to rest on the couch behind you, and he eyes you over the cocktail glass still held to your lips. “What do you think?” 

“What do I think?” You repeat back, lowering the glass, and your voice, as you scoot into his side, and lean your head on his shoulder, surveying the room for a moment before answering. Dammit. They’re all still too handsome for your liking. You’d thought a few drinks would tone down their good looks just a little. “What do I think?” You parrot once more, and jab Jungkook in the side, as he yelps and winces beside you. “I think you should have warned me that all your roommates are just as smoking as you, Jeon Jungkook.” 

You grin at him, ready to make a teasing jab about how they may be even more handsome than him, when the two of you are interrupted by Taehyung plopping down on the couch beside Jungkook, jostling you both. 

“Come on, Kookie.” The older man practically whines, throwing his own arm around the younger boy’s shoulders, as he leans around his broad form and flashes you a charming smile. “You can’t hog all of (Y/N)’s time. You get to bask in her beauty all day every day. Let some of us have a turn.” 

You bite back a grin, because you’ve met men like Kim Taehyung before. They are irresistibly charming, and smooth, and all together too incredibly hot to exist, yet you know they mean no harm with their slick words and damning good looks. 

“Ask away, Hyung.” Jungkook sighs between the two of you, and leans his head back on the couch in a gesture of defeat as he motions to Taehyung. “I know you’re going to question her anyway. Get it over with.” 

“Yah. That’s a good boy.” Taehyung slaps Jungkook’s shoulder, and the sound is solid, and you don’t miss the way Jungkook winces under the powerful looking show of brotherhood as Taehyung leans out once more to make eye contact with you. “So, (Y/N).” 

“Yes, Taehyung?” You shoot back, not intimidated by his presence or confidence now that you’ve had a few drinks in your system. 

Taehyung grins, and you note a slight hint of approval in his dark eyes, before he curbs his expression and steeples long fingers before plush lips. “How’d you and Kookie here meet?” 

“College.” You say simply, shrugging, as you set your empty cocktail glass to the side, and glance at Jungkook, whose dark eyes are full of dread, as if he’s waiting for his hyung to ask something ridiculous and embarrass both of you. “Freshman year.” 

“And you’re just now together?” Taehyung asks with shock in his deep tone, eyes widening slightly as he glances between the two of you, as if he can’t believe it took you so long to realize you were interested in each other. 

“Well, yeah.” Jungkook shrugs now, a blush darkening his cheeks, and he bites his lip in that way you love, though right now, it’s less cute and more worried, as he chews his bottom lip between his teeth. “We lost touch for awhile.” 

One of the other men-the smaller, petite one, who looks too pretty to be real, Jimin?-appears behind Taehyung and perches himself on the arm of the couch, listening in on your conversation with a cute, delicate tilt of his head that sends his dangling silver earrings tinkling in a fairylike way. 

Taehyung snorts in amusement at Jungkook’s words. “So what you mean to say is you were too much of a dense idiot to notice her sooner.” 

Jungkook straightens beside you and glares at the older man, and suddenly, you’re slightly worried he might deck him, but luckily, Jimin jumps into the conversation just in time. 

“Tae.” He slaps the man’s shoulder, and Taehyung glances back at him, as Jimin’s features contort into a look of disapproval. “Don’t tease Kookie.” 

“Fine.” Taehyung sighs, and you are surprised how easy it was for Jimin to put him in his place, considering Taehyung is probably three inches taller and at least ten pounds heavier than the fairyesque man sitting on the arm of the couch. 

Jimin offers you a smile, and you don’t miss the way his eyes crease with the expression, as he says in a soft, lilting tone, “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N). We’ve heard a lot.” 

Jungkook blushes once more beside you, and you laugh at his obvious discomfort, reaching out for his hand which is still balled in his lap. 

“What we haven’t heard though-” Taehyung leans forward again, once more on the attack, and offers the two of you a raise of his brow and the slight hint of smirk on his full lips. “Is if you guys have done it yet.” 

“Taehyung.” Jimin sighs in exasperation and rolls his eyes. 

“Hyung!” Jungkook almost shouts out, drawing the attention of the older men, conversing with each other about something in the other corner of the room. His face reddens, and he lowers his voice, hissing out, “You can’t ask stuff like that.” 

“So that’s a no?” Taehyung quips, settling back into the couch, his legs crossed, as he regards you both with an air of amusement and aloofness. He holds your gaze, and you don’t back down, as his eyes move over your face, before he states suggestively, “Well, be careful when you do, (Y/N). Jungkookie’s really into biting.” 

And then he has the audacity to raise his brows at you in a gloating smirk, and send you a wink from across the couch. 

“HYUNG!” Jungkook is practically fire red now, and you are trying to hold back a laugh, knowing he’s legitimately embarrassed now under his roommate’s constant teasing. 

However. There it is again-buried deep within the black of his pupils-the look of absolute guttural want that sometimes washes over Jungkook’s features when he thinks you’re not looking, flashing across his irises at his roommate’s words.

“Do you always ask all of your roommates girlfriends these types of questions?” You retort, suddenly desperate to ignore the flaming feeling Jungkook’s brief express had lit in your belly, raising a curious eyebrow in the now lounging Taehyung’s direction. 

He flashes you another wink and a boxy smile. “Only the hot ones.” 

“Taehyung.” 

A deep voice sounds behind you, booming in the small space, and you jump slightly, whirling around to see Namjoon standing, arms crossed over his chest, shooting a serious look at the younger man. 

“That’s enough.” 

Taehyung pouts, but ducks his head to the older man and grumbles out, “Yes, hyung.” 

You had been right about the aura you got from Namjoon from the beginning after all. He’s beautiful, and tall, and has the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen, but his features are set in a serious, mature way, and now-seeing how Taehyung reacts to his commands-you know that he’s the one in charge, at least in this house. 

“I hope they haven’t pestered you too much, (Y/N).” Namjoon motions toward Taehyung and Jimin, and offers you the hint of what you think is a smile, revealing a hollow dimple in his upper cheek, which catches you off guard. 

“Not at all.” You stumble over your words in your hurry to answer him, because the man standing before you makes you feel small and obedient and it’s almost as if your brain is begging to do whatever will please him. “It was all in good fun.” 

Namjoon nods, and then glances over your head, addressing your boyfriend. “Jungkook. It’s getting late. You should probably see (Y/N) home.” 

Jungkook rises without argument. “Right.” 

You are shocked, you have never seen Jungkook so quick to do what someone asks, and as you pull on your coat and say goodbye to each of the six men with who you have spent the evening, there is a part of you that wonders if roommates are not the only thing these men are to each other. 

*******

It is several days later, sitting in your own lackluster apartment, that you find out the truth to your questions from the night spent with Jungkook and his six mysterious, all too good looking, roommates. 

“(Y/N), come here for a sec!” 

You hear Jungkook calling to you from down the hallway, and pushing your reading glasses atop your head, and setting aside the work you are plugging away at, you follow his voice to your bedroom, where he is laying on the bed, staring at his phone. 

“What?” You ask, leaning against the door frame, letting yourself admire for a moment the swath of tan skin that peeks from beneath his hoodie, stretched across his muscular abdomen. 

“Do this TikTok trend with me.” Jungkook replies without looking at you, swiping through something you can’t see on his phone. 

“Kookie, no.” You complain, crossing the room to plop down on the bed beside him, as you glance at what he’s looking at. Some sort of new TikTok video with fang filters and gold eyes.”You know I don’t like being in your videos. I don’t want to.” 

“Come on.” Jungkook looks at you then, wide doe eyes dark with pleading, lips pulled into his teeth in a pout expression that makes you weak at the knees. “Just this once. Please?” 

You try to resist. You really do. But dammit, you can’t say no to those large eyes, rimmed with dark lashes, staring at you in such a way. 

“Damn you, Jeon.” You grumble out, and Jungkook grins triumphantly, because at those words and the sullen expression on your face, he knows he has won. 

You lie down flat on your back beside him on the small bed and squint your eyes as you glance up at his phone, your own face suddenly reflected back at you in garish light. 

“What do we have to do?” You ask reluctantly, careful not to stare at your reflection too long, instead, choosing to glance at Jungkook’s face shown back to you on the camera, the way his dark, long hair shadows his eyes, the way his pink lips are pursed as he gets the angle just right. 

“It’s really simple.” Jungkook shifts beside you, and his long finger taps the phone screen, placing the filter over the video, before he glances to the side and shoots you a grin-a grin so soft and excited that you can’t help but melt into the idea of the video just a little bit. “Vampires are really in right now. And basically, this filter shows you what you’d look like as one. See?” 

He shifts the phone-still held above your heads-and you glance at the two of you, now with gleaming golden irises and long sharp fangs that poke past your overly red lips. 

“I hate this.” You sigh out, and Jungkook chuckles from beside you, shifting the phone so that the filter falls away from you both for a moment, as he rises to his elbow beside you on the bed. 

He smells good-like cologne and fresh, clean linens, and the shampoo he uses in the shower. 

“C’mon, jagi. Just one video. For me.” Jungkook’s lips twitch, as if he wants to smile a the pout that comes across your features. He leans down and surprises you by kissing you briefly on the lips. “I promise if you do this with me, and be a good sport-” He adds, giving you a pointed look, as you sight once more. “I’ll make it worth it.” 

“How?” You quip back, though your stomach is fluttering at how close he is, and the buzzing hasn’t left your lips from when his mouth covered yours for the briefest of moments. You swallow, and try to look anywhere but those eyes-eyes that make you want to fall in and never come back out. “You’ll buy me boba?” 

“Yes.” Jungkook nods, agreeing too quickly, and reaches out to tap the end of your nose with his index finger, an odd look coming across his face. “Among other things.” 

Before you can ask him what he means, and why his words have suddenly sent your heart racing, he is lying back down beside you, and holding up the phone once more. “Okay, let’s go.” 

The video clicks to life, the filter turning you both into sad replicas of the vampires from Twilight, and Jungkook grins in his reflection on the screen, as he tilts his head toward you and asks, “What do you know about vampires, (Y/N)?” 

“Yah.” You scoff and roll your eyes, but remembering his promise, force yourself to look into the camera and continue with the video. “You didn’t tell me this was a pop quiz, Jeon Jungkook.” 

“It’s not.” Jungkook shrugs beside you, and you have to admit, his white teeth flashing behind pink lips look oddly enticing with the sharp points of the fangs pricking the plush skin. “It’s just for fun. Vampires. Go.” 

You sigh, but do as he asks. “Fine. Vampires.” You hold up your hand for the camera to see, and begin ticking down fingers as you list in a slightly flat, bored tone. “Vampires are allergic to garlic.” 

“Wrong.” Jungkook pipes up beside you, and you are startled, so much so, that you lose concentration and flick your eyes to him, forgetting about the video momentarily. 

He raises a brow at you and motions with his head toward the phone, as if telling you silently to go on. 

You try to refocus, stuttering slightly over your words. “Okay, um, vampires can’t enter a house uninvited.” 

“That’s not true either.” Jungkook interjects, and you flash him a glare, warning him to stop interrupting you, and wondering how he knows all of this enough to argue with you. 

“Fine.” You hiss out, and your eyes flash beneath the gold of the filter, as you turn back to the camera, starting to rapid fire off the rest of your list so your boyfriend can’t stop you to tell you how wrong you are again. “They can’t tolerate holy water, crosses burn them, sunlight hurts their skin, they can morph into bats, and they have no reflections.” 

You catch your breath, confident that you’ve beat him. 

“Inaccurate, false, entirely a myth, purely laughable-” Jungkook starts to list point blank from beside you, and you can feel the daggers you throw in his direction, as he pointedly ignores you and finishes up his smug commentary. “And last but not least, stupid as hell.” 

He turns to you, and meets your gaze, dodging the daggers completely before he shoots you a shit eating grin. 

“Fu-” You start to swear in frustration, and then you hear the video sound signal that the camera has been turned off. 

“You can’t swear in my TikTok video, babe. What will my followers think?” Jungkook, who has come to a sitting position beside you, looks over at you with dramatically horrified eyes and a berating smirk on his face, a look that you’d like to wipe right off his lips. 

“You asked me what I knew about vampires!” You protest hotly, coming to a cross legged position beside him, as you run a hand through your hair with jerky agitation. “And then you basically told me it was all bullshit!” You take in a deep breath, feeling yourself calm slightly. “Which is true, I guess, because vampires aren’t real, but still.” 

“I mean-” Jungkook finishes up doing something with the video and then locks his phone, tossing it onto the nightstand, as he meets your gaze once more, with a suddenly thoughtful look crossing his features. “Technically, not all of it is bullshit.” 

“Oh really?” You let out a humorless bark of laughter, and cross your arms over your chest as you glare at him. “Please. Tell me what’s true then.” 

“Vampires can’t cross running water.” Suddenly, Jungkook looks sheepish, and though the expression is cute, and softens your ire toward him, you’re not sure why. “That’s true.” 

“What?” You ask, slightly dumbfounded, staring at him. “That’s a thing?” 

“Yeah?” Jungkook asks, a slight question, confusion crossing his pretty features once more at your look of surprise. “You didn’t know that?” 

“I mean-” You shrug, and suddenly you’re on the verge of laughing. “No? I guess I never got around to studying vampire theory when we were in college.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, sitting silently across from you on the bed. “But apparently you did. How do you know all of this? Is my boyfriend secretly a closet nerd?” 

“I-” Jungkook starts to say, and then his words falter to a stop, and as you watch, his eyes get that look again-dark and slightly wild and hungry-and his gaze falls down your face to your lips in a way that has your heart pounding against your rib cage like a trapped bird. “(Y/N), there’s something you need to know.” 

“Okay-” You say, suddenly nervous, but unable to think or even wonder what he’s going to drop on you when he’s still staring at you as if he’s starving and you’re the last meal in the world. 

“I-” He starts again, and your eyes follow the movement as his tongue darts out to wet his lips, leaving them red and shining, and your heart more breathless than ever. He reaches up to rake a hand through his dark, thick hair, and his movements are agitated, which doesn’t seem to fit the mood that fills the air between the two of you. 

“Just don’t-” He tries again, and huffs out a frustrated sigh, meeting your gaze once more, and suddenly the tension between you is gone, his wide eyes back to normal. “Just don’t freak out, okay?” 

You swallow, and your fingers start to fiddle with the blanket between the two of you, your heartbeat loud in your ears. “Okay.” You say, for the second time, in as many minutes. 

You watch as Jungkook takes in a deep, steadying breath, and you prepare yourself for the words, ready to hear the words, ready to feel the cut. 

He’s cheated on you. He’s breaking up with you. He’s found someone else. He’s in love with Taehyung, or Jimin, and hell, who would blame him? 

“I’m a vampire.” 

Your eyes, screwed shut and waiting for the bomb, come open so fast that you feel dizzy for a moment, and you’re pretty sure your jaw drops to the floor. 

And then, you’re laughing, because you’re sure he’s joking. 

“No, seriously, Kookie, funny joke, but what is it?” You reach out, shoving him playfully in the shoulder, relieved laughter still trickling from between your lips. 

“I am serious.” Jungkook watches you laugh, confusion on his face at your reaction. 

“Vampires aren’t real, babe.” You manage to straighten your face and turn to him once more, eyebrows arched curiously as you stare at him. “What are you talking about? You’re joking. Right?” 

The silence grows between you after your question, and suddenly, your heart drops into your stomach. 

“Wait-” You begin to say, inching away from him to the other side of the bed, because suddenly, you’re very worried that Jungkook isn’t right in the head. “You really think you’re a vampire?” 

“I am a vampire.” Jungkook sighs out impatiently, reaching up to pinch his nose briefly between his thumb and forefinger, as he closes his eyes and takes in another deep breath. “(Y/N), that’s what I’m telling you. When we lost touch-” 

“No.” You stand up, suddenly shaking your head, your heart still pounding, but for a different reason now. “This is crazy talk, Jungkook. You can’t be serious.” 

“I am.” He stands and you square off across from each other in your small bedroom, the late afternoon sun shining onto the carpet and creating patterns in the space between you. Space that feels too far to overcome. “I’m not making this up, jagi. After college, I got into an accident and Namjoon found me and-” 

“Namjoon?” You scoff out, not believing your ears, as you stare at your boyfriend incredulously. “Now you’re trying to tell me your roommates are in on this crazy bullshit too?” 

“They’re not my roommates.” Jungkook replies seriously, eyes holding yours, pupils large and black. “They’re my coven. They took me in after saving my life by turning me.” 

“Nope.” You pop the word past your lips and push past him toward the open door. “I’m out. You’re crazy, man.” 

You hear Jungkook follow you down the hallway toward the bathroom. 

“(Y/N), will you please just listen to me-” 

“Get out of my apartment, Jungkook.” You shout back, reaching the safety of the bathroom,, already moving to slam the door shut on his face, but managing to get out through the shrinking crack, “Don’t come back until you’re ready to stop being insane.” 

You wait to hear the door crash into the lock, the sound of the clicking doorknob sealing you into the room, the final thump of Jungkook’s feet as he walks away and leave. 

But none of that happens. 

Because Jungkook has blocked the door from closing with his hand, and holy shit, is he strong. 

“Jungkook-” You warn, pushing against the door, as he manages to push himself inside the small bathroom with you. “Get. Out.” 

“No.” 

You look up at him in surprise-you’ve never heard him this serious, this firm before-and his eyes are dark, and his lips are set into a thin line, hand still holding open the partially closed door, wide shoulders filling the frame. 

“What?” You gasp out, anger starting to bubble its way into your chest. 

“I said no.” Jungkook repeats and takes a step toward you, backing you toward the bathtub that takes up one side of the room. “I need you to listen to me.” 

“I am listening to you!” You shriek, almost hysterical, as you feel your back hit the dingy, thin fabric of the shower curtain you and Jungkook had bought together at a local secondhand store. “You’re not listening to yourself, Jungkook. Because all this talk is batshit crazy.” Your knees hit the edge of the hidden tub. “Vampires?” You stare hard at him, and he’s so close, you can smell the hint of his soap. “Accidents? Covens??” 

“It’s true! All of it.” Jungkook blurts out, and his voice is frantic now, and pleading, as his eyes rove the space of the shower behind you, as if searching for a way to show you. “I’ll prove it to you!” 

“How?” You exclaim sharply, tired of this game. 

His doe eyes scan the room, and then he points to the shower, which you have almost entirely wedged yourself into with his forward advance, and his face brightens. “The shower.” 

“What about it?” You ask, and the situation would be comical, the two of you breathing hard and jammed into your tiny bathroom, if it were any other situation. Anything but this. Still, a little bit of the humor sneaks into your next words as the start of a hysterical laugh. “Are you going to 

Jungkook ignores you, reaching over your head for the handheld shower head, simultaneously using his other hand to turn on the hot water. 

He holds the now running head out to you expectantly, and states quietly, firmly, as if his words should mean something to you, “Vampires can’t cross running water.” 

You scoff, arms still held at your sides, and when you don’t move, your boyfriend closes the distance between you, and shoves the shower head into your hands. 

“What are you-” You start to protest, already feeling the water soaking your socks and puddling on the cheap tile of the bathroom floor, but before you can finish your sentence, Jungkook is stepping toward you once more. 

He reaches out a hand, and you note his fingers are trembling, which seems odd, but before you can think about it too much, his hand flattens against an invisible barrier, fingers splayed now for you to see, as he meets your gaze once more. 

“That doesn’t prove anything, you could be faking.” You snap out, although suddenly, your heart has sped up in your chest, and your own hand is shaking, making the water from the shower trail crazy patterns on the floor at your feet. 

You shove your own hand out toward Jungkook-a little too hard-and he winces slightly as you jab him in the face. 

“Sorry.” You apologize, pulling your hand back, and study him for a moment. “Do it again.” 

“Look.” Jungkook sighs, and stepping toward you once more, holds out his hand, pressing it up against the invisible glass pane, before he shifts his whole body up against the barrier. “I’m not faking, (Y/N).” 

And suddenly, your breath is catching in your throat, because even through the steamy bathroom, you can see. You can see that the way his clothes fold, and the way his fingers splay, the way his hair flattens against his forehead, as if pushed against a window, is not fake. 

And that means-

“Holy shit.” You breathe out, lowering the shower wand, as you stare at your boyfriend, water puddled around your feet, mouth open in shock. “You’re a vampire.” 

He offers you the hint of a crooked, humorless smile. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” 

*******

Jungkok sighs from beside you, and turns his head to look at you, for what feels like the fifteenth time in as many minutes. “Will you stop staring at me?” 

“Sorry.” You shrug, propping yourself up on your elbow, as you reach out to poke first his cheek, and then his lips. “It’s just so fascinating. Like. You’re a whole ass vampire. My boyfriend. The vampire.” 

“Stop saying it like that.” Jungkook groans, throwing a hand over his eyes as you giggle in amusement. “Stop saying it like it’s my superhero name or something.” 

“Fine.” You grin, reaching out to push his hand away from his eyes, before you let your fingers fall to his mouth, flipping back his lip slightly, so the start of his white teeth show, as sudden childish excitement fills your tone. “Can I see your fangs?” 

“Really?” Jungkook asks with exasperation, propping himself up beside you, as he shoots you a look of slight frustration. 

“Yeah!” You nod, bouncing beside him slightly on the bed. “That’s like, the biggest thing to being a vampire right? I wanna see them!” 

“I mean, not the biggest thing-”Jungkook starts to grumble beneath his breath, but you’re on top of him, straddling him so your knees hug his hips, and your hands sink into the pillow beneath his head. He looks up at you, eyes wide, as if startled, and when he speaks, his voice is slightly choked. “What are you doing?” 

“Do you wanna bite me, Kook?” You ask, mostly teasing, staring down at him with as mischievous look as you can muster. You don’t allow yourself to focus on how his firm body feels beneath your own. Or the fact that you’re both crammed into the space of your tiny bed, so close that you can see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes. 

“No!” He blurts out, almost panicked, and you feel something like disappointment drop into your chest at his reaction, and you make a move to release him from beneath you. 

But then, his fingers are encircling your wrist, stopping you from pulling away, and you’re caught off guard, as he reaches up with his free hand to caress the side of your face. 

“I mean-” Jungkook speaks again, his voice barely above a murmur, and you’re pretty sure you’re having a harder time hearing him over the sound of your blood suddenly rushing in your ears. He bites his lip, teeth stark against the soft pink flesh. “I didn’t mean that. That was a lie.” 

You try to force a lightness back into yoru voice, a lightness you don’t feel, with the air practically crackling with electricity between the two of you. “You’re telling me that was bullshit, Jeon?” 

He nods, and you see the way his throat bobs as he swallows. “Yeah, that was bullshit.” 

“Why?” You breathe out, every last inch of teasing leaving your body as that look-the look that makes you feel weak and dizzy and hot all at once-floods fully into the caramel irises of Jungkook’s eyes, turning them dark and dangerous and entirely too tempting. 

“Because-” He matches your tone, words barely audible above the pounding of your heart, as his hungry eyes fall once more to your lips, and then down your throat. “I want nothing more than to taste you, (Y/N).” His chest, steady beneath your body, heaves as if he’s trying to catch his breath. “I’ve wanted nothing more since I saw you again-that day in the park. The way you smell, the way your pulse flutters beneath my touch, the way your heartbeat sounds-too loud in my ears-it all drives me insane, and I swear, I’d kill for a chance to bite you. Just once. But I-” 

Jungkook shakes his head as his words trail off, and his pupils constrict a bit, enough to show a ring of color around his eyes once more. 

“But what?” You ask, and your mouth feels dry, because you’re scared of what he’s going to say. You try lightness again, because you’re both struggling. “And don’t give me some Twilight bullshit, Kook, because I swear to God I’ll kill you. And then break up with you.” 

He huffs out a strained laugh, mouth tight, and worried wrinkles around his eyes, and his fingers loosen slightly on your wrist, as he reaches up once more to brush some stray hairs back from your face. “Nah, like I said, most cliche vampire myths aren’t true, and definitely not the ones perpetuated by Twilight.” He sighs, and sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth. “I can control myself, I won’t hurt you, I won’t turn into an animal. One taste won’t give me an insatiable thirst for human blood. It’s nothing like that.” 

“So what is it?” You ask, suddenly curious, trying to focus through the feeling of his fingers now dancing patterns on the bare skin of your side beneath your shirt. 

“I-” His mouth drops open, allowing the word to start, but not finish, and he rolls his eyes, suddenly self deprecating. “It’s stupid actually.” 

You stare at him, and when you don’t say anything, waiting for him to continue, he lets out another long sigh and then reaches up to rub at the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. 

“It’s just that-” He swallows again, and you find your gaze drawn to his lips, the way they move to form his words, the way they would fit perfectly around a pair of long white fangs, the way they would feel against your skin, and you’re so distracted, that you almost miss what he says next. “You’re my first.” 

“What?” You ask, pure confusion lacing your tone, as you force yourself to meet his gaze once more, a gaze now awash in worry and embarrassment. “Your first what?” 

“Oh god, don’t make me say it, jagi, please.” Jungkook groans out, reaching up to swipe at his eyes with his hand, as a blush paints the tan skin of his cheeks. “You’re my first......bite.” 

“Really?” The word of astonishment pops out before you can stop it, and the pink on your boyfriend’s cheeks darkens beneath the cover of his hand. You clear your throat, composing yourself, and reaching out to remove his hand, try a different angle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so surprised. It’s just-” You think hard about your words for a moment before continuing. “Haven’t you been hungry?” 

“Can we not talk about details?” Jungkook pleads, putting a palm over your mouth, as if he physically doesn’t want you to ask questions. “The hyungs kept me fed. I’m fine.” 

“Okay.” You drawl out from behind his hand, and he must feel the smile starting against his skin, because he pulls away from you, but you stop him by pinning him beneath your body, as you hold his gaze. “Fine. So let’s not talk then.” 

Your eyes follow the bob of Jungkook’s throat as he takes in the full meaning of your words, and behind the slight uncertainty that flashes across his eyes, you see something else. 

The desire. 

You lean down, and your lips are almost brushing when you speak again, and the heat in Jungkook’s eyes, alighting the gold specks, is causing coils of anticipation in your core. 

“Do you want to bite me, Kook?” You ask once more, completely serious this time. 

His tongue licks across his lips, and the warmth of his breath washes across your face, as his eyes fall to your mouth, barely centimetres from his own. 

He nods. “Yes.” 

“So stop thinking-” You let your fingers run up the skin beneath his shirt, and he tenses beneath you as your lips find his between each of your words. “And just do what comes naturally.” 

You run your lips across the corner of his mouth, and arch your body into his, angling the juncture of your throat beneath your jaw so that it brushes across his lips and the tip of his nose. 

Jungkook lets a groan slip from between his parted lips, and his fingers find purchase at your hips, breath hot on your skin, teeth grazing your throat as he murmurs against you, “Shit, your heartbeat is so loud.” A hint of teasing seeps into his next words, though he’s slightly breathless. “Is that for me?” 

“I mean-” You pant out, having to choke back a moan, your words stuttering to a stop for a slight moment, as Jungkook sucks open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat. “If you want it.” 

“I do.” Jungkook’s voice is low now, a growl, and you start slightly as you feel a sharp prick against the flesh of your throat, at the juncture of your jawline. 

“Are those-” You start to ask, and move as if to pull away, the sudden heat of the moment suddenly taking a backseat to your burning curiosity. 

Jungkook groans, and not in pleasure this time, as he stops you from moving away from him and when he speaks, his voice is full of exasperation, lips still brushing the skin of your neck, and though you can’t see his expressions, you can practically imagine him rolling his eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’re tying to see them. Not right now.” 

You hide a grin. “Okay. Sorry.” 

“Now.” Jungkook’s fingers curl around your chin, and he makes you meet his gaze, irises almost completely swallowed up in the black of his pupils, as he tilts your head slightly to the side, fingers stroking over the fluttering pulse point beneath your jaw. “I believe you said this was for me?” 

You feel breathless, and lightheaded, and the way he’s looking at you is making it hard for you to think again and all you manage to get out is a dumb sounding, half affirmation in response, “Mmmhmm.” 

He smirks at you, and his fingers play along the crease of your collarbone, tracing the outline of the hollow at the base of your throat. “Remember, this is my first time, so be patient with me, yeah?” 

“This is my first time.” You quip back, though you don’t sound fierce, you sound breathless. “So be gentle.” 

“You know what they say.” Jungkook grins now, and you finally, finally get a look at the coveted fangs as they flash blindingly white in his mouth, and dammit all, if they don’t make him even more sexy. “Practice makes perfect.” 

Damn Jeon Jungkook. Damn Vampire Jeon Jungkook

*****

“Hey, it’s Kookie!” 

Taehyung crows the greeting as soon as the two of you walk through the door of the penthouse, and flinging his arms around the two of you, envelopes you both in a bear hug. 

“Glad you guys could make it. Life has been so boring since you moved out.” Taehyung continues on, dragging the two of you behind him toward the dining room as he talks incessantly over his shoulder, as if he’s been starved for conversation. “You guys down for dinner and drinks and games?” 

You glance at Jungkook, and he shrugs in response. “Yeah, hyung, sounds fund We don’t have plans.” 

“Wait.” 

Taehyung stops dead in the entrance to the dining room and whirls to face the two of you, eyes narrowed, as he looks you both over suspiciously. “something’s different here.” 

Jungkook instantly stiffens beside you, and you feel his fingers curl nervously against your palm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about hyung-” 

“WAIT.” Taehyung leaps toward you, making you step back nervously, as his fingers find your chin and wrench your head to the side. “Aha! I knew it!” 

You know exactly what he’s looking at. 

The almost healed puncture wounds that dot the side of your throat. 

Courtesy of one Jeon Jungkook. 

“Hyung.” Jungkook whines, as if begging his older friend to remain quiet in the matter, a blush already darkening his cheek at what’s coming. 

“I KNEW YOU TWO DID IT.” Taehyung pats your cheek a little bit too hard in his excitement, before crushing Jungkook to him with a few hearty slaps on the back. “Congrats!” 

Jungkook rolls his eyes at you over his friend’s shoulder, and you stifle a laugh, because no matter how much Taehyung embarrasses him, you know he means well. 

Taehyung releases Jungkook and turns back to you. “Told you he was into biting.” He winks at you slyly, a smirk lighting up his handsome features. 

“Hyung.” Jungkook’s voice has risen an octave, and his cheeks are on fire. 

“You know-” Taehyung motions over his shoulder at Jimin, who has now joined you in the doorway, come to see what the hold up is. “We’re into biting too.” He shoots you a completely wicked grin. “Let us know if you ever wanna join us.” 

“Taehyung. That’s enough.” 

Namjoon’s voice thunders from the dining room beyond, and Taehyung, barely phased, rolls his eyes at you, before he turns and slings an arm around Jimin’s shoulders to enter the dining room. 

But not before giving you one last conspiratorial wink. 

“You’re not really considering that, are you?” Jungkook hisses beneath his breath as you start to enter the dining room behind the other men. 

You shrug, hiding your smile. “Who knows?” At the look of panic that crosses his face, you laugh, reaching out to tap the end of his nose with your finger, before leaning in to kiss him. “Just kidding. But I am into biting too, you know.” You shoot him a suggestive grin. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes and pinches the back of your hand where it rests in his, making you laugh once more as you take your seats at the table. 

“Just promise me two things-you’ll only ever be into biting with me." He points to himself, a slight smile starting to lift the corners of his lips. “Because another vampire myth that I forgot to mention that isn’t bullshit is that we’re insanely jealous.” He ticks another finger at you, and now he’s grinning in that way you love, with his nose scrunched and his eyes turning into half moons. “And, number two, you’ll never use the shower head as a weapon when I’ve done something to upset you.” 

You squeeze his hand where it rests under the table. “Promise.” 

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction | Revealing Your Child [Request]

A/N: @akakasvx​ I hope this is okay for you! I know you said misbehaving but I already had a scolding your child one so I thought I would try to make things different.

Seokjin:

You and Jin already had another son together but when he was born you kept him hidden away for a while, deciding together that it would be better to spend more time together as a family before announcing him to the media and Army but it hadn't worked out that well. Many people didn't agree with the way you had handled things and thought it would be better announcing your child right away instead of waiting as you had done before. So this time it was different, a week after coming home from the hospital with your daughter, you, Jin and your son all get ready to do a family VLive to show Army you new daughter and talk to them about her.

"What do you think of your little sister?" Jin questioned, he was reading questions as fast as he could but the chat was moving way too fast for you to keep up with so you had no idea how Jin was managing it.

"She's so small and cute," You smiled at your son who was currently holding his baby sister in his arms, he was only five so you and Jin were both watching him carefully.

"I'll protect her when she's older, uncle Namjoon told me I have to protect her." You held back a giggle as you remembered the conversation they'd had one day, you walked in to find Joonie telling your son all the tricks to being an older brother as well as the responsibilities that came along with it.

"Do you want more younger brothers or sisters?" You asked as you took your sleeping daughter back into your arms and rocked her a little,

"Yes! I want a big family, with 10 little sisters and 5 brothers." You choked on the air you were inhaling and Jin started laughing so hard that the phone was shaking.

"T-That's- No," You laughed making your son laugh but you were sure he had no idea why he was laughing along with you, he just didn't want to feel left out of the fun you and Jin were having.

"Any more questions?" You asked Jin, trying to skip over the 15 more kids that your son wanted you to have, Jin was still laughing in the background while trying to find questions for you all to answer.

Yoongi:

It was your first pregnancy and you'd been blessed with twin boys which at first, seemed daunting but it was fine in the end. You and Yoongi were always making it work and had been for the last four years.

"Do you think they'll be okay?" You asked while nervously staring out of the black SUV window, you were at the airport to take your boys on their first holiday and the placed was filled with cameras. Your son's had only ever been caught on camera once and that was when you were leaving the hospital, all of the other times they would be hidden from cameras. No one was allowed to upload their photos onto the internet and no one was allowed to take photos without explicit permission first. It was all for their privacy but now they were getting older it was harder to hide them from the reporters and so it was time for them to be seen. You were more nervous about it that Yoongi was but you were ready, today wasn't about the cameras. It was about their first-ever holiday.

"They'll be fine, are you?" You nodded and the door slid open to reveal that the main entrance to the airport was flooded with reporters, it reminded you of when the boys or any idol went away on a plane.

"Let's do this," You whispered taking your first son by the hand while Yoongi took your second, they both held hands in the middle and you all walked calmly towards the entrance. Smiling and waving the cameras as you used to when you first started dating Yoongi. The boys kept turning to look at the reporters - fascinated by what was happening around them, while you and Yoongi focussed on keeping them from falling over.

Your child's photos were all over the internet and printed magazines everyone was talking about how they had inherited different aspects, they had Yoongi's eyes but your nose or ears. It really warmed your heart to see everyone talking to the kids well, eve Army who had held off on seeing them for so long was tweeting about how it was worth the wait.

Hoseok:

Your daughter had always wanted to go and see her dad in concert, she knew what he did for a living but the concerts were always so late whenever they had them so you promised to take her to a soundcheck instead. You were waiting backstage with her so she could watch from the side but she was getting agitated about not being able to watch it properly like everyone else. You would have taken her out into the small crowd of people that had gotten soundcheck tickets but she was only 3 and had only been seen by Army a couple of times before this. Hoseok wanted to wait until the right time to reveal her to everybody.

"Wait here princess, Daddy is doing his job." But she was getting to the age where she was too crafty for her own good, she slipped out from the reins you had her on and made a quick escape for the stage. Rushing out and grabbing onto Hoseok's leg as he spoke into the microphone, you stood at the side of the stage not knowing what to do. Hoseok bent down and smiled at everyone in the small crowd.

"I guess now is a good a time as any." He chuckled looking at you and nodding for you to walk towards him. You bent down so you were standing on the other side of your daughter who was now blushing and hiding her face in her dad's arm.

"Do you want to introduce yourself?" Hoseok held the microphone to her lips and she shook her head, hiding further into his arms as everyone ''awe'd'' at her.

"She's a minx, escaping from her reins." Hoseok laughed noticing that they were abandoned at the side of the stage where you had both been standing.

"Do you want dad to sing your favourite song so you can dance?" He questioned and it seemed to brighten up your daughters mood and remove her shyness as she started bouncing up and down and getting ready to play her part.

(If I was Hobi I would have died...I have an irrational fear of anything with wings...)

Namjoon:

This was something that had been asked for by Army for a while now and it was finally happening. A Run episode which was family-themed. Each boy was paired up with their partner and family and you all had to do certain different tasks or challenges together. This was going to be the first time your child - and the other boy's kids - would be shown on camera for a long period of time. They'd all been caught by photographers before but nothing like this, this was a whole camera crew shooting and everyone was going to see your family.

"You're nervous about the episode aren't you?" Namjoon questioned when he caught you watching your son and Jin's son playing together, you weren't nervous as such. You were just worried about putting your son's face all over the internet.

"Not nervous, just-"

"Want him to grow up and have a normal life?" You nodded and Majoon took your head so you would lay it on his shoulder. You knew that not one aspect of his life was going to be normal but you figured you could try and keep it as normal as possible until it could no longer be avoided.

"He'll be fine, I promise." You smiled softly at Namjoon and you both walked over to your son to get ready for the first task together.

"Who can build the best sandcastle, me or you dad?" You questioned your son who, without hesitation, pointed at his father and left you blinking blankly into the camera that had been filming you both.

"Why?" You questioned after a couple of seconds and your son started laughing,

"Because when we're done he lets me destroy them like a monster in a movie." You started laughing as Namjoon shook his head at your son. He'd watched Lilo and Stitch one time and he thought he could be stitch in the scene where he creates his own town to destroy.

Jimin:

Another day another fan signing, you were sitting backstage with your two daughters while you waited for JImin to finish and come backstage to you. Normally you would have waited at home but his schedule had been so jam-packed that he decided to bring you all along with him today. Your first daughter and your 3-month-old daughter who still hadn't been shown to media outlets or fans just yet. You were in the middle of talking to a stylist when you felt your eldest daughter starting to rock the pushchair - this was nothing new since she did this a lot to help her younger sister sleep.

"Can I take her for a walk?" You looked at her and smiled, she was 9 years old and loved taking care of her sister. Walking her around the venue in the pushchair and being a good older sister to her.

"Sure sweetie, do you know which way to go?" She nodded and took off in the direction of a small walkway which led back to you in a large circle, she was great with her.

It wasn't until you heard a bunch of people 'awh'ing' that you realised what was happening, you and the stylist ran towards the curtain that separated backstage to the boys and saw Jimin standing there holding his baby girl and your daughter was sitting on the table looking at fans. You rushed out onto the stage and Jimin chuckled,

"She just wanted to show off her sister, isn't that right?" You daughter nodded and looked up at you. You never could stay mad at her since she had her fathers eyes but you were nervous about what management would have to say about all of this.

"Does anyone have any questions for my girls?" You smiled backing off the stage and leaving the boys and your daughters to do their own thing while you watched from behind the stage. You hoped it wasn't going to be a problem with management since everyone in the room was enjoying in imprompt q&a with Jimin's family.

Taehyung:

You stared down at the Happy Holiday card with a smile on your face, it was the first Holiday card you would be sending out with your new little family on it. Before it was normally just you and Tae, or you, Tae and the boys but this year it was you, Tae and your daughter who was asleep in your arms - dressed up in the cutest little outfit.

"Show me again," Taehyung chuckled as he came into the living room. You handed him one of the cards and he chuckled taking it over to the cupboard you had under the stairs. Inside was filled with memory boxes from your daughter's life already, there was her first pair of shoes and socks that she'd grown out of, as well as her baby wrist band from the hospital.

"She's growing up too fast," You complained as you watched him slid the card into a folder of photographs of her.

"We can always make more." You groaned at the thought of being pregnant again, it wasn't going to happen for a long time. You were still trying to forget the pains of her kicking your ribs at all hours of the night.

The holiday cards had been sent out to family, friends and staff members and some had been sent to fans who had the fan membership with BigHit, all personally signed by both you and Taehyung. Everyone adored the way you had revealed your child to everyone and found it adorable the way she looked in the little costume you'd both picked out for her.

Jungkook:

"One photo and don't get me in it." You groaned to Jimin who was standing at the end of your hospital bed begging for a photo of you, your son and Jungkook altogether as one big happy family.

"You have to be in it, it's a family photo. It's for us anyway," You whined as Jungkook laughed at you being so picky about this. But you looked like you hadn't slept in a week and you'd just given birth four hours ago. You wanted to do nothing but sleep and spend time with your baby, not have a small photoshoot with Jimin and Jungkook. It was your first son and you wanted to spend all the time you could with him and his father before he had to leave again. The camera snapped the photo and you went back to smiling down at your sleeping son, you were enjoying how quiet he was but if he was anything like his dad he was going to be one of the loudest kids on the planet. Not to mention crack headed just like his dad is.

"Shit." You both looked up at Jimin to see what was wrong when your phone started to buzz in your handbag.

"You didn't..." You whispered not even having to look at your phone to realise what Jimin had done. Jungkook took out his phone to check,

"He did." On the screen was a photo on the official BTS twitter, you, your son and Jungkook all sitting together on the hospital bed.

"Manager Sejin is going to have your head on a stick." You laughed looking at the photo, your son wasn't supposed to be revealed for another month to give you time to settle down into your newly found family.

"It was an accident, I meant to send it to the private account and I just slipped." You let out a whine and Jungkook started laughing about it, you were glad he was seeing the funny side of it because you knew his manager wasn't going to.

Tagline: 

@writingdreamsnottragedies​ @yoongisdumplingcheeks​ @snowy-meowl​ @lynnthevirgo​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @chimchims-stories-and-tales​ @fan-ati--c​ @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @callingmyangel​ @btsiguess-kpop​ @rjsmochii​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​

[hellpotter]

Hi, I’m not sure if you’re taking requests from the prompt list but if you are maybe you could write 40 or 43 for percy and Annabeth please. I love the fics I’ve read of yours 😊

pretend to be my date | percabeth

Annabeth knew from the beginning she shouldn’t have agreed with Rachel’s idea of going to that party. First of all, she didn’t even like parties all that much. Second, she needed to study. And, finally, she didn’t need any more social anxiety than she already had to deal on a daily basis.

Still... Well, there she was. Standing in the living room of someone that she didn’t even know who it was, dressed in high-waisted jeans skirts and a vintage blouse, holding a cup of some unfamiliar drink on her hand.

Rachel had been way too efficient in finding someone she was interest in flirting with and sat on a couch near her, talking to some guy that, Annabeth suspected, was in her Arts class. She had no ideia how her friend could act so easily and naturally about her interests and start a flirtatious conversation with such little effort. She acted assertively, all confident smiles and charming comments, knowing exactly when to lean over or risk touching the guy. It was amusing watching her do this so perfectly and yet in such a carefree way. She thought she would never be able to do it herself. Annabeth had too many issues with acceptance, attraction and sexuality for that. With attraction, usually came stuttering and agitated posture and doubts, for her. At least until she found trust and comfort, and by then it was mostly either too late or too much for the other person to handle.

Annabeth caught herself staring at Rachel and her soon-to-be-date, blushing. She should probably leave and let them be, find something else to do or someone else to talk. 

The minute she turned around to walk away, she regretted. The heat rose on her cheeks and she all but froze when she saw him coming her way. Percy Jackson.

He wasn’t popular. He wasn’t particularly smart, either. He was on the swim team and well known for his sarcastic comments, and really, he wasn’t Annabeth’s type.

But, most importantly, he was on Annabeth’s Algebra class. And there was something about him that made her develop a huge crush on him this past year. Maybe it was the way he furrowed his eyebrows whenever he didn’t know how to proceed in some equation. Or maybe it was the fact that he actually hated Maths, but was trying his best because he wanted to make his mother proud and go to a good college. It could even be the way he asked about her and actually bothered listening, remembering details about what she told him after. 

Either way, he wasn’t her type. But she had a huge crush on him, and less than zero courage to do something about that. She knew too little about him to let herself risk it.

So, when she saw him coming on her direction, she panicked. And turned around. And literally pulled Rachel out of the sofa, intertwining their fingers and pulling her body closer.

“Hey! What?”

Her friend looked at her, completely confused.

“Pretend to be my date,” she whispered quickly, just before Percy reached them with a big smile.

“Annabeth!” He greeted. “I- I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Hi, Percy,” she tried keeping her voice steady. “Yeah, it’s not really my scene. Rachel here made me come,” she nudged her friend slightly with her elbow.

“Oh, I see,” he said. “It’s not really like me, either. My friends convinced me to come, too.”

“Oh. Right,” she noticed him looking at Rachel quickly. “By the way, Rachel, this is Percy, from my Algebra class. Percy, this is Rachel, my- uh... “ 

She trailed off and noticed his eyes finally seeing her hand intertwined with Rachel’s. She saw Rachel’s confused look increase too (she had told her about Percy), but she was a good actress.

Percy’s cheeks were red and his smile weakened... Was that disappointment on his face?

He cleared his throat and offered his hand do Rachel. “Uh, hi, Rachel. Nice meeting you.”

The three of them talked for a while, mostly light subjects such as school and senior year and music or TV series they liked. She enjoyed how easily conversation flowed with Percy. He was a good listener, but also always had something funny or interesting to say. He made her comfortable, and, for once, she didn’t feel like borrowing Rachel’s social abilities. Hers were enough. 

Too soon, Percy said he should go and find his friends, walking away with a “see you later” and a nice smile. There was something weird about his behavior, as if he was disappointed and didn’t get what he wanted somehow. Maybe he was interested in Rachel?

Her friend interrupted her line of thought by lifting their hands and staring at her. “What was that all about?”

Annabeth blushed furiously and let go of her friends hand, looking at the ground. “I just…”

“Annabeth, isn’t that the guy you’re like secretly in love with?” 

“I'm not in love with him. I just have a crush on him.”

“Okay, then why did you want me to pretend I was your date?” Rachel’s question was sincere, but Annabeth couldn’t answer.

She didn’t know why. Maybe she’d panicked. Maybe she was too uncomfortable with the whole party situation that made the possibility of her and Percy getting together an actual possibility, as well as the option of him rejecting her. Maybe she was just too tired of getting involved with guys and only finding out they were homophobic way after it was too late for it not to be too personal, not to hurt too much. Maybe she was afraid of getting hurt.

“I don’t know,” she muttered.

Rachel was silent for a minute, the boy she’d been flirting with before long forgotten. Suddenly, she took Annabeth’s arm and spoke again. “C’mon, let’s get some air.”

With that, they went outside, in silence, the loud music ringing in their ears. 

They sat on a bench on the yard before Rachel finally said something again. “What happened in there?” 

Annabeth stared at her hands in her lap. “I don’t know, Rach. I guess I panicked. I just- I really like him, you know? And I’m so scared, I don’t want to get hurt again.” 

She felt tears starting to form in her eyes and looked up, blinking, making them go away.

“Shit,” Rachel took her hand, trying to offer some kind of comfort. “That’s about you being bi, isn’t it?”

Annabeth shook her head, slowly. “I guess it is, in some way. Unconsciously, maybe. I guess I’m just worried he’s not what it seems like. I just can’t handle finding out the hard way again.”

Rachel took her in in a comfortable hug for a few moments. When she spoke again, her voice was incredibly soft and her gaze was sincere and intense, directly into Annabeth’s eyes.

“Hey. I know you’re scared. And I know it hurts and it’s not fair that you’ve been through all that and still has to worry about this. But I love you. And it’s gonna be alright. I’m here for you.”

They hugged again, and Annabeth expected that her physical demonstration was enough to express her gratitude and affection. When they pulled apart again, Rachel’s tone was a bit more playful and serious at the same time. 

“But… I have to say. You’re never going to find someone good enough to love you if you’re not ready to try. And sometimes you have to risk it.” 

Annabeth nodded and they got up, walking slowly back towards the house. What wasn’t her surprise when she saw Percy coming right out. 

Rachel rose an eyebrow and whispered. “Well, here comes your chance.” She walked away and went back into the house, leaving Annabeth alone to reach Percy the moment he stepped in the grass. 

“Hi,” she said.

“Oh. Hey,” he offered her a smile, then they fell into and uncomfortable silence for a while.

“Can we- uh, talk?”

She pointed to the bench she’d been sitting with Rachel and he nodded, before walking with her and sitting down. 

Before she could speak, he did. “I'm sorry if I was a little weird earlier, I didn’t mean to. I just- I didn’t know you had a girlfriend, so I was a little surprised. But please don’t think I’m like-“

“I don’t,” she interrupted him, and he stared at her, brows furrowed and confused look. “Have a girlfriend, I mean. Or a date. Rachel… She’s only my friend.”

“Oh. I thought-“

“Yeah, I know. I guess made you think that. I’m sorry.”

“But why?” His eyes were agitated. He was confused and somewhat hurt.

She took a deep breath before answering. “I’m bi. I didn’t know if you knew it. And I- I like you. And I panicked.”

He stared at her with his mouth opened. “You like me?” He finally said.

“Um- yeah,” she could feel herself blushing. “I do. A lot.”

A smile began to form on his lips and he leaned closer to her, bringing a hand to the side of her neck.

“So you’re okay with it?”

His eyebrows came together again. “With what?”

“That, um. That I’m bi.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Annabeth shrugged and looked away, but he lifted her chin with his finger and made her look at him again.

“Annabeth. I don’t care. And I’m more than okay, if it means I can kiss you,” he whispered.

And when they finally brought their lips together, and Annabeth thought to herself that she had to stop accepting the unacceptable from people (because really, him being okay was just the absolute minimum), she realized that maybe, just maybe, coming to the party hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.  

send me prompts :)

[fawad-khan]

Together Always

A/N: hey guys, this is a part of @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh 's 1k writing challenge, congratulations again, queen K! I hope you enjoy. I’m so sorry for the delay hvfuuvcurv, i hope you enjoy! This is my longest yet, if this flops, i will be angy :)

Masterlist

Pairing- Harry Holland x reader

Warning- some angst maybe? mentions of hospital, nothing too gory, maybe swearing here and there

Word Count- 3.5k+ (woohoo!)

Prompt- “Marriage? Pass”

Prompt will be in bold

Summary- you finally realize why people choose to go ahead and take a long term committment with each other.

(At age 10)

You were sitting on a park bench alone, crying by yourself. No one was around, for you were sitting in a quiet and empty part of the park. Your head was bent to your knees, which you had brought closer to your chest. You were so engrossed in your own sorrow that you did not notice two identical faces catching your sight and walking towards you, wondering what was wrong.

"Hey, what happened? Are you alright?" You heard a voice in front of you and looked up, seeing two twin boys standing in front of you. One of them had curly hair, while the other had straighter hair.

"Well no, I'm not in a really good mood right now." You replied meekly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" The curly haired boy asked. You let out a sniffle and wiped your wet eyes. They sat down beside you, the curly haired boy sitting on your left and patting your hand for comfort, and the straight haired boy sitting by your right.

"Well, uh it's just that my mommy an-and my daddy they do-don't want to live with each o-other anymore and are getting a d-divorce."

"Oh, uh that's really sad to hear. Do you know exactly why this happened though? Like do they fight or anything?"

"Harry, don't ask her all that! She will tell us if she wants to."

"It's ok, uh they kind of fight a lot everyday and I overhear them saying they cannot live like this and all, I guess." You said, smiling sadly. "Now I have to decide who I want to live with. It's gonna be a bit hard for me." You sniffled again, making the boy named Harry (you guessed when the other boy called him) rub your arm in comfort.

"Well if you ever have any difficulties, we don't live very far from here. You can always come and maybe live with us, if our mum agrees with it."

"No no, I don't wanna burden you like that, but uh sounds nice!"

"Oh and I'm Harry, he's my twin Sam." He said, pointing to the straight haired boy.

"I'm (y/n)." You said, shaking their hands. Little did your 10 year old self know at the time that their friendship would make a tremendous difference in your life.

----

(6 years have passed)

It has been 6 years. You decided to finally move in with your dad, partly because he was kind of a better parent to you and partly because his house was near the Hollands, which made it easier for you to see the twins more often.

Ever since that day, you had become great friends with Harry and Sam. Of course, through them, you also met Tom and Paddy and their parents, and they were the sweetest people you ever met. They helped you go through your parents divorce, as it is always very difficult for a small child to go through such things alone. They were like a second family to you. Tom kind of became like a protective older, while Paddy was like a little brother.

Harry and Sam were your best friends, of course. They never failed to always keep you happy and amused, especially when they did a lot of silly things on purpose.

Harry never failed to pull you out of your blues. No matter what it was, he always managed to get a smile out of you every single day. He made you feel warm and fuzzy every time it was just the two of you together. You often accompanied him whenever he would do some casual photoshoots, as you were a great help to him, giving valuable tips, helping him choose a perfect scene, etc.

Of course, as you grew older, puberty was obviously very much favourable to all of you. Harry was no longer the cute little boy with a baby voice, you were no longer the small girl with a doll face. Harry grew more tall, his muscular features become more and more prominent. His voice had become deeper, which you found pleasant to hear all day long. Not to mention, he was more attractive as well, so naturally he often attracted the attention of girls in school which often made you jealous.

Sam of course grew up to be a very charming and handsome lad as well, quite like his twin. His cooking skills had improved a lot too. But, the bond between the two of you was more platonic. You felt a deeper connection with Harry, something more than friendship. You were still wary of a long term committed relationship, given that you had gone through your parents divorce, but that did not stop you from daydreaming about what it would be like if you and Harry were together.

----

(Age 17)

It was your senior prom and your date had turned out to be a bitch, deciding to never show up at your house to pick you up. He had messaged you about having caught the flu, and right when you were about to just give up and stay in at home instead, Sam insisted that you come to prom anyway. What you did not know was Harry had not managed to get a date, so he just decided to show up solo. He had been hoping to ask you, but seeing that you got a date already, he decided to just go by himself.

So when he saw you alone and dateless, looking absolutely impeccable and breathtaking in your body hugging purple dress that ended above your knees and hair opened save for a small braid in the side, he decided to take this chance and go for it.

You had seen him too, looking so handsome in his tuxedo. How you were mentally wishing that you both would be together instead. The way his curls flopped despite his best efforts to keep them tidy only made him seem hotter in your eyes.

"What happened? Todd ain't here?" He asked, referring to your date.

"Na, he's had a bout of flu, at least that's what he says."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I dunno, I guess I just kinda had this coming you know, maybe I'm not meant to have a nice date to a dance and have fun. Ah, just my luck."

"Come on, any guy would be lucky to be with you."

"Yeah right." At that moment, his eyes fell on a couple who had entered the ballroom, and when he realised who it was, his blood boiled and his fingers were clenched as he tried to control the urge to just go and punch him.

You could feel him tense up beside you, and looking at his face, you could sense something wasn't right. His face held an agitated expression.

"What's the matter, Harry?" You asked, concerned.

"I hate to tell you this, but uh looks like Todd is in perfect health." He mumbled.

"Wait whatever do you mean?"

"See for yourself." He pointed you in the direction where he was looking, and to your immense surprise, there was Todd all suited up, getting quite cozy with some random chick who was in a dress slightly shorter than the prescribed dress code. You could feel your blood boiling. The audacity of the motherfucker to lie like this and then just show up like that, you couldn't control the rage building in you.

Before Harry could stop you, you stormed your way towards the couple, who were now making out in a corner and ripped them apart. The chick had barely uttered a word when you gave him one tight slap.

"Fucking bastard, so this is your flu? How did I even agree to you, you son of a bitch?!" You shouted out so loud that now the whole hall of students was staring at this scene. Harry finally came behind you and held your shoulders in an attempt to calm you down.

"Hey hey hey, just leave that fucker alone, okay" he whispered in your ear and dragged you away from them towards the drinks table. He handed you a cold drink and you gulped half the drink in one sip, which helped you to calm down.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly, holding your hand for comforting you.

"Yeah, I'm fine just, I should've expected this would happen, I guess. I don't think boyfriend and all is meant for me." You said, feeling a small lump in your throat as you felt tears in your eyes.

"Hey hey hey, now don't say all that." He lifted your chin up and looked into your eyes. "Don't cry over that wanker. You wanna dance with me?" He held out his hand, waiting for your answer. You wiped your tears and smiled at him, taking his hand, which he took as yes.

He took you to the dance floor and held you by the waist, pulling you closer towards him. Some slow music was playing. You held his shoulders and rested your head on his chest, swaying slowly to the music. The space between the two of you was not that prominent now, and you could hear your heart beat very loud and felt that Harry could probably hear it too.

He was feeling sorry. Sorry that you were made upset by a total jerk, but at the same time glad because that was the reason he was here, holding you close, dancing with the prettiest girl he knew, the girl he had liked over the years. He could smell sweet shampoo from your hair, mixed with some perfume you had applied, lulling him into a trance of you.

The beat of the music changed as the DJ changed into another song with faster rhythm, making you pull away from each other as you matched to the rhythm. He accompanied too, although he wasn’t too great of a dancer, but he still looked cute trying to match your moves, making you giggle at him. You danced to a few more songs, before you felt a little hungry and thirsty, signalling Harry who was feeling the same. You went to the snack counter and got some snacks for both of you, while he got the drinks. You quickly chugged the drink and snacks at once, making him laugh, you following suit.

“Thanks for this Harry, I’m really enjoying prom.”

“You’re welcome, love.” you froze a little at that nickname. Love, huh. You’d love to get used to that nickname. You just smiled in response.

The rest of the prom just went in a blur. All that you really remembered and cared about was when you sneaked out of the party and took a walk in the park. You both were just walking side by side, hands brushing every now and then. Harry suddenly stopped and let out a deep breath.

“Hey, (y/n)?”

“Yeah Harry?”

He cupped your cheeks and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on your lips, catching you off guard. Slowly you melted into the kiss, moving your lips against his soft ones. He pulled away from you, eyes closed and pressed his forehead against yours, hands still cupping your cheeks.

"Would this be a good time to say that I like you? Like maybe we could be something more?" His eyes slowly opened, looking into your (y/e/c) eyes, both of you knew the answer.

"Yes Harry, I'd love that." You said smiling, making him grin from ear to ear. He leaned in again to kiss you harder, one hand still on your cheek while the other pulled you closer by the waist to practically press into his chest. Your hands went around his neck as you kissed him harder as well, with more passion, as if letting out all of the tension into it. Needless to say, this was your happiest memory of your lives.

----

(Age 23)

You never thought that you'd be in a relationship this long, but here you were, six years later. Harry was now a professional photographer and often had lots of photoshoots lined up for him. You had decided to take up journalism, as you were fond of writing a lot and often wrote plenty of articles in your school days.

You both now lived together in an apartment of your own, not very far from the Hollands'. You were both busy in your professional lives, but always found time for each other as well. You’d maybe go out on dates to a restaurant or to the movies, or have a night in having a movie night or just do something goofy or have some fun ;)

He has always made you feel complete. Neither of you really felt the pressure to go to the next step, which was marriage, or well so you thought. Harry would lie if he said that it didn’t occur to him. However, he knew that you weren’t ready just yet. He did not mind much, so as long as he could be with you all his life.

You were sitting and having tea with one of your colleagues Sally, who was also a good friend of yours. You were just sitting and discussing stuff about some work and boyfriends, bitching away about some stupid colleagues in your office.

“Oh also, I have something to say.” she said in a very excited voice.

“Oooh what is it?” you asked, curious as to what she was going to say. She simply squeeled a little and  thrust her left hand in front of your eyes and you saw a beautiful silver princess cut diamond cut ring on her ring finger. You covered your mouth, a big smile on your face. You gave her a big hug. You were so happy for her.

“Oh my god, Ricky proposed? I cannot believe this! When did this happen?”

“It happened this morning! He did it when I woke up! Isn’t he so amazing?”

“Of course Sal, I’m so happy for you!”

You could not, however, feel a panging in your heart. It felt a little like a longing pain, as if you would love for something like this to happen. You had no intentions to settle for a long term commitment like a marriage, but maybe, just maybe, there was a teeny tiny part in you that perhaps wanted that with Harry.

“So what about you and Harry? Are you guys planning to marry any time soon?” she asked cheekily. You gave a clamped smile.

“Marriage? Pass.” you said, trying to sound nonchalant, even though your voice quivered a bit.

“Are you sure though hun? I mean, you and Harry have been going strong for years now. Don’t you even think about it sometimes?” 

You gulped. She was kind of right.

“I don’t know, maybe? Ok, yes maybe I’ve thought of this a few times.” you paused to take a sip of your coffee and continued, “well actually speaking, I have some issues to be in a long term commitment. So far, I am kinda surprised that I’ve been in a relationship this long, although Harry is really amazing. It’s just that, I don’t want that if we marry then something happens, creating a wedge between us, and then we have to split up. Like, in the case of my parents as well, who couldn’t wait to leave each other. I guess, I’m just scared of that happening, that’s all.”

“Oh I see. Hey, its normal to feel scared of what may happen in the future. I would be lying too if I said that I’m scared too. But sometimes, we just have to go for it, you know? Life is a roller coaster, yes, but if you find the right person to spend it with, then you’ll be ready to face them.” she held your hand to give you assurance. You let out a breath and nodded in agreement.

“Thank you so much, Sal. Also congratulations again! I’m so happy for you!” you hugged her again and headed towards your bike to go back to your apartment, Sally’s words never leaving your mind.

----

(many weeks later)

You were sitting in your office cubicle, editing an article on your computer. Suddenly you saw Sam’s name flashing on your phone as it buzzed since you had put it on silent. Sensing that something was up, since he never called you while you were at work unless it was an emergency, you picked up the phone, a “hello?” leaving your mouth. If you were not mistaken, you could hear him crying.

“Sam? What happened? Is everything okay?” you asked, getting worried.

“Oh (y/n), come to the hospital quickly. Harry’s been admit-ted.” he stuttered, followed by more cries. Your hand flew to your mouth, you went into a shock. Harry? In the hospital? Was he ok? With so many questions buzzing in your mind, you managed to mutter a quick yes and got up from your desk, gathering your bag and telling your boss briefly that you needed to go to the hospital urgently, to which he agreed. You quickly climbed on your bike and drove to the hospital, which was thankfully not very far off.

You went to the receptionist, where Sam was standing, waiting for you. Seeing you walk towards him, he just gave you a hug, tears dropping from his eyes. You hugged back, trying your best to soothe your best friend by patting on his back.

“It’s ok Sam. Where is he?” your voice was suddenly high as you choked back your tears. He just led you to a hospital room, where Tom was sitting beside the hospital bed, face tear stained. He gave you a small and faint smile when he saw you. Your eyes finally fell on Harry, who was lying on the bed, his eyes closed. The heart monitor was bleeping, he had an oxygen mask on his face. Many wires were attached to his left hand, for medicine and blood supplies. He had some bandages on his left arm and his left leg as well.

“Wh-what exactly h-happened?” you stuttered, tears spilling from your eyes. 

“He got into a crash, and got injured. The doctor said that he hasn’t suffered too many injuries, but he is yet to gain consciousness.” Tom said, voice still shaking. “We’re all just waiting for him to wake up.”

You took a seat beside the bed and held his right hand, which did not have any needles. You muttered a silent prayer for him to get well soon. You stroked his hair as he kept on sleeping peacefully.

----

Harry finally regained consciousness two days later. You all were so happy and relieved. The doctor also gave good news that he was better and would be good to go in two more days, as he had to do some minor check ups. You were relieved that he was going to be alright. You had been so afraid to lose him, as you couldn’t imagine your life without him. He had been your support all your life. 

Oh. Oh. A realization hit you. He was your whole life. You did not want to spend your life without him. This episode of almost losing him had made you realize it. You quickly made your way towards Harry’s room, where he was just lying awake. Sam was telling him something, and he had an amused look on his face.

“Hey, babe. How are you feeling?”

“Better. How’re you?”

“I’m great. Hey, could I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yeah sure, (y/n/n) what is it?”

You took a deep breath. “So uhh, I’ve actually been thinking ever since we almost lost you. I don’t know, but it got me thinking. You know how I’ve always been wary of the idea of marriage, as I have always feared that what happened to my parents, would happen to us, which is not what I want. But umm, I’ve realized that I never wanna lose you, ever. I cannot imagine a life without you with me. Also, what Sally said to me the other day, made me realize that you are indeed the right person for me.”

“Oh my- wow (y/n) so, are you saying that um, that umm you’d consider taking the next step?” he asked, hoping you’d say yes.

“Yes Harry.” you tucked a hair strand behind your hair, took his hand in yours and continued, “so Harry, I know this is probably not the place to say this, we’re in a friggin hospital” he chuckled as you smiled and continued, “but maybe, when time comes, and I’m hoping it comes soon enough, do you wanna consider maybe going further? Like, be together forever?”

“You have no idea how much I’ve waited for this.”

“Is that a yes?”

He just pulled you towards him in response and caressed your cheek, attaching his lips to yours. You kissed him back gladly, smiling into the kiss. He pulled away and stroked his finger on your hand, whispering a “yes”, a goofy grin on his face.

The End

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