#but yeah if your account is not reposting others hard work then go ahead i don't mind at all! use them however you like♥

[ave661]

are you okay with people using your renders as pfps?

I don't mind at all! I'm always happy when I see my works used in different ways. I only ask for credits when someone uses them in fics, edits, traces them etc ♥

The only thing I don't like is when accounts based on other people's work (on tiktok and pinterest) repost my renders.

[downwiththeficness]

The Guarantor-Chapter 30

Summary: Frankie went to work every day knowing that there would be an end. A deadline. Reconnecting with her adoptive father, Godric, throws that deadline into question. Teaming up with Godric’s child, Eric, obliterates it entirely. With an uncertain future ahead, Frankie has to learn if she can trust the people around her, let alone herself. Eric Northman/Bisexual!Fem!OC

Word Count: ~4,000

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content

A/N: This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence, and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. Anyone under the age of 18 should not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.

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Frankie sat across the table from Carissa, listening to her talk about her upcoming trip. She hadn’t sat down with the other woman in a long time, which left her feeling guilty as Carissa talked about her new job, one of the perks of which was an expense account that let her fly regularly enough to get a first class upgrade.

Carissa had changed since Frankie saw her last. She was still platinum blonde and tattooed, still had piercings glinting in the overhead lights. But, her makeup was softer, smokier. She was wearing nail polish that wasn’t chipped. There were diamond drop earrings hanging from the gauges in her ears. In other words, life seemed to be treating Carissa well.

“It sounds amazing,” Frankie gushed, “Where can I apply?”

Carissa’s expression was a little bit smug, “I don’t think they have any open positions right now, but I’ll let you know when one opens up.”

Holding her mug close to her chest, Frankie leaned back and said, “So, what do you do, anyways?”

“I consult, mostly,” Carissa answered, tossing her hair. “That’s why I have to fly out to the different,” she stumbled a little bit over the word, “offices.”

“Oh, yeah? Consult about what?”

It was an honest question. Carissa had always been a hard worker. Dedicated. But, Frankie had never seen a particular expertise at the laundromat. She did what she was trained to do, but rarely took the initiative to suggest new projects—not that there was anything creative about cleaning clothes. Giving a mental shake, Frankie reminded herself that they weren’t exactly best friends in Jersey and that there might be things about Carissa she didn’t know.

“Um,” Carissa started, tilting her head to the side in thought, “Its a lot of things. I do some life coaching here and there. And, um, research.”

“Research?”

Nodding, Carissa continued, “Yeah. Like, on the occult and stuff.”

What kind of company needed consults on the occult?

Frowning, Frankie cocked her head to the side, “Really?”

Giving a little shrug, Carissa offered a kind of self-conscious smile, “Yeah. Its been a hobby of mine since I was in high school.”

“So, you decided to turn it into a side gig?”

“Gotta make money, somehow, am I right?” Carissa shot back with a grin, “I got debts to pay, just like anyone else.”

Frankie lifted her glass in a salute, “I hear you.”

Carissa giggled as she clinked her mug with Frankie’s, “So, talking about money, are you still at that clothing store?”

“I’m still there,” Frankie answered, a bit of disgust in her voice, “My boss keeps hinting at taking a management position, but I don’t know…”

It wasn’t that Frankie didn’t think that she could do the work, she just didn’t have any idea how the next couple of months were going to go. The push and pull of her life didn’t seem like it was going to settle, and Frankie didn’t think she had the capacity to dedicate herself to anything more than clocking in, doing her job, and going the fuck home.

“Not your dream job, huh?”

“What do you mean? Working retail is my life’s passion,” Frankie deadpanned.

Carissa laughed, “I got you. Its a job, right?”

“Yeah,” Frankie replied, “Its a job.”

“You still living with Eric?”

She wasn’t exactly surprised at the question, but the direct tone made Frankie sit back a little, “Yeah. I mean, I thought housing down here was cheaper, but my pay is barely covering gas and food, insurance, and all the other shit I gotta pay for, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” Carissa said, “That’s why I got my side hustle.” Then, “Are you guys still, like, friends or whatever?”

Frankie took a fortifying sip of her coffee, “Um, I think we’ve kind of moved past that.”

Intrigued, Carissa leaned forward, “Really?”

“I mean,” Frankie edged, “We’re...he’s my…person.”

She was willing to acknowledge that they were more than friends, but somewhat less confident in saying that they were in any kind of committed relationship.

Carissa waited for Frankie to say more, and when she didn’t, she said, “That’s really nice, Frankie. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks.”

“I just hope you’re being careful.”

Frankie flinched, “What?”

“Being careful,” Carissa repeated, gesturing towards Frankie, “I mean—sweetie, he’s a vampire. They’re kind of dangerous, don’t you think?”

Mouth open, Frankie had to take several moments to process that statement, “Yeah, they can be. Absolutely.”

She thought about Masha, about the Queen. Neither of them would think twice about using their power, their strength, to make someone do whatever they wanted. There was no fear of that with Eric. From the very beginning, they had been up front with one another about what they wanted, about their motives. That level of honesty gave Frankie a certain amount of comfort.

Carissa seemed to want to say something, opened her mouth to do so and then closed it. The look she was giving Frankie was as much concerned as it was guarded.

“I just think you should be careful.”

Frankie smiled, hoping to reassure the other woman, “I’m being careful.”

They moved on to other topics, but Carissa would periodically stop and look at Frankie with concern. She didn’t want to pry into Carissa’s experiences with vampires, knowing that they probably weren’t good. And, she appreciated that Carissa wanted Frankie to be careful. She didn’t think there was anything she could say that would alleviate that concern. Carissa would just have to see on her own that Eric didn’t mean Frankie any harm, and that would take time.

As they were leaving, Carissa gave Frankie a hug, “I’ll be out of state for a couple weeks, but we should get together when I come back.”

“Definitely,” Frankie replied, “Text me.”

Carissa walked away, her apartment not far from the coffee shop, and Frankie dug into her jacket for her keys. She pulled them free and headed to the lot where she’d parked only to find someone waiting for her.

Young. Maybe twenty three or twenty four. Blonde. Dressed in jeans, blazer, and heels. She perked up when she spotted Frankie, smiling a friendly smile.

“Francesca Meek?”

“...Yes?” Frankie said as she slowed.

The woman offered her an envelope, which Frankie hesitantly took.

“At the risk of sounding like a cliche, you’ve been served,” she smiled and walked off.

Confused, Frankie turned the envelope over in her hands. It was made of thick vellum, and sealed with wax. Frowning, Frankie broke the seal and opened the letter. She read it once. Twice. Three times. Then, jaw clenched, she stuffed it into her purse and hauled ass back to the house.

When she got there, Frankie set her stuff down, pulled off her jacket, and sat on the couch. She dropped her head into her hands and sighed deeply. Frankie remained like that for a while, until she had gotten over the initial shock. Then, she stood and ran her hands down her jeans to smooth the wrinkles.

With another deep breath, Frankie took herself upstairs and laid down. Sleep came easily, and when she woke, the sun was starting to set. Rubbing her eyes, Frankie sat up and stared at nothing until her brain caught up to the fact that her body was awake.

Feeling gross, she showered all the day’s grit from her skin. Standing in front of her dresser, Frankie debated throwing on a t shirt and leggings. She even went to grab a pair from the pile. And then she thought better of it.

Going to her closet, she took from the hanger a sundress in a pale pink. It had come into stock at the store just in time for the Spring season. When Frankie took it out of the packing, she immediately saw herself wearing it. Trying it on in the dressing room had only confirmed what she knew the second she’d held it up for the first time. Frankie used her employee discount for the first time to buy this dress.

Slipping it on, Frankie turned in the mirror. She rarely wore anything like this, but the soft linen hugged her body in a way that was so flattering. Running her hands through her damp hair, she piled it on top of her head to get it out of the way.

She felt pretty, and Frankie didn’t care that she wasn’t going anywhere that night. She didn’t care that she’d gotten more bad news. If Frankie was going to worry about yet another insane turn in her life, she was going to feel pretty while she worried.

Traipsing down the stairs, Frankie went directly to the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine. She poured herself a healthy glass and slid onto one of the bar stools to enjoy it. About halfway through the glass, there came a sound of a door opening in the laundry room. A moment later, Eric emerged with his jacket thrown over his arm.

He took one look at the glass in her hand and frowned, “Since when do you drink wine?”

Frankie made a sound in the back of her throat, holding up a finger to indicate that he should wait. She pushed from the stool and padded over to her purse. Envelope in hand, Frankie walked up to him, holding it aloft.

With a fair amount of skepticism, Eric took the envelope and read the contents. Frankie watched him with half a smile as she picked up her glass and took a long pull. Brows lifting, he tossed the letter onto the island.

“We knew that was coming.”

“We did.”

“So, you’re not surprised.”

“I am not.”

“And yet…” he glanced down at her glass.

Frankie reached for the bottle and refilled it, “If any occasion calls for drinking wine, its being summoned before the Vampire Council to testify against my ex-girlfriend.”

“And employer,” he added.

“That, too.”

He touched her cheek, a light brush of his fingers, “Are you upset?”

She sighed, “Not really. Pretty sure my boss is going to be pissed that I’ll need time off to fly all the way to New Jersey so that I can handle it.”

Eric huffed a laugh, “You’re lucky they aren’t making you travel to Europe.” He rolled his eyes, “Weeks in a stuffy castle while the Council debates everything down to the color of the ink for the signatures on the decision.”

Frankie lifted a brow, “As opposed to what? Weeks in a hotel room while they debate who gets to announce it?”

He gave a nod of acknowledgment, “Point.” Then, “I doubt you’ll actually stand before the Council. Their first step is to use mediators to see if the issue can be resolved without having to stand on all the ceremony of an actual Council session.”

She shrugged, “Either way.”

Eric eyed her carefully, “You sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah,” she replied, “Its just more shit from Masha, you know?”

An arm snaked around her waist, “This is the end of it. She won’t have any cards left to play when we’re done with the Council.”

Frankie sighed, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, “We’ve said that before, and she just keeps coming back with more.”

He looked at her pointedly, “That’s the beauty of the Council, Frankie. When they make a decision, it is final. If Masha tries to get around it, she’ll face the sun.”

Doubtful, Frankie muttered, “Masha doesn’t believe in death, especially not now.”

“One day,” Eric said, “I’m going to show her that death is very, very real.” When Frankie didn’t react, he blurted, “You’re not making the face.”

“The what?”

“The face,” he repeated, “Whenever I talk about killing Masha, you make this face.” He imitated her, his mouth pulling down into a pout, “You’re not making the face.”

Eyes dropping, Frankie drew in a breath, “I guess I don’t feel as strongly about it as I did before.”

“You’ve resigned yourself?”

She shook her head, “More like I’ve come to terms with the fact that Masha is digging her own grave.”

He looked impressed, “I think I’d call that growth.”

“I think I’d call that exhaustion,” Frankie shot back with a laugh.

“I’ll take it,” Eric replied, kissing her temple, “Can you be ready to fly out in a few days?”

“Yeah, I’ll call my boss tomorrow morning.”

“Good. We’ll aim for a flight on Thursday, then.”

Frankie pulled back, “We? You’re coming with me?”

He looked at her in confusion, “You think I’d let you face the Council alone? You think Godric would let you go alone?”

“I,” she started lowly, “hadn’t considered that.”

Eric made a sound of frustration, his hands framing her hips firmly, “What did you think presenting you to the Queen was all about?” Not waiting for her to answer, he continued, “Did you think that was for show? A performance?”

Frankie stared at him, agog. The intensity of his words left her speechless.

Eyes fierce, he cupped her face, “I’m on your team, Frankie.”

She kissed him. It wasn’t much more than a hard press of her mouth against his, but Frankie could feel him smiling into it. She leaned into him, fingers curling into the material of his shirt. One of his hands dropped to the curve of her ass, the other sliding around to rest on the back of her neck.

Deepening the kiss, Frankie wrapped her arms around his shoulders as she ran her tongue along his lower lip. Shifting side to side, Eric guided them backwards. Frankie went with him, walking on the tips of her toes so that she could keep kissing him. As they passed through the doorway into the laundry room, he began to pull up the hem of her dress.

Grasping his hands, Frankie pulled each deliberately from her body. Loosing them, she pushed firmly into his stomach until he relaxed against the wall. For his cooperation, Frankie kissed him, licking into his mouth and catching his lower lip between her teeth. Running her hands down his chest, Frankie followed that path downwards to trace the outline of his growing erection.

He groaned softly, and she could see the points of his fangs peeking out from behind his lips. Flattening her hand over the fly of his pants, Frankie went to work on opening them. The button fly took longer than both of them would have liked. She could feel the muscles in his core tightening as he resisted the urge to help.

When she finally thumbed the last button open, Frankie grabbed the waistband and yanked it down just far enough so that she could get at what she wanted. He hissed as she wrapped her hand around him, giving a slow, firm stroke. Frankie glanced at him to find that he was biting down on his lip, two tiny rivulets of red dropping down his chin.

Feeling unnaturally bold, Frankie pulled him down to her so that she could lick away the blood. His hips pushed forward, the movement eased with the pre come that was beading steadily from the tip of his cock.

He kissed her greedily, pushing his fingers beneath the strap of her dress. Open mouthed kisses ran the length of her neck and as far down her chest as he could reach. Frankie arched into him, feeling heat chase the cool path of his lips.

She broke the kiss, tugging up his shirt and lowering slowly to her knees. On the way down, she rubbed her cheek against the flat of his stomach, nuzzling the sensitive skin beneath his belly button. Under her lips and hands, he trembled. When Frankie ran her tongue up the length of his cock, Eric’s head dropped heavily to the wall as his mouth opened in a loud, almost relieved, moan.

Hand working his length, Frankie sucked on tip, tongue rolling over sensitive skin. Tilting her head to the side she rubbed her lips along a thick vein, letting him feel her breath. Looking up at him from beneath her lashes, she licked a scalding line from his balls up and over her own hand until she reached the head.

“Frankie,” he grated, his fingers sinking into the strands of her hair.

They spasmed when she gave him a particularly hard suck, his hips thrusting forward too fast for her to pull back. With an almost embarrassing sound, Frankie drew up a bit and caught her breath, blinking away the welling tears.

His apology was not much louder than a whisper. Frankie reached up and placed her hand over his in her hair, reassuring him silently before she got back to it. Holding him steady, she took him down to the back of her throat, forcing all the muscles in her neck and jaw to relax and breathing deliberately through her nose. With small, slow bobs of her head, she tried to mimic the way he stirred himself inside her.

Which was, apparently, the right move.

Eric’s body bowed, the hand in her hair clenching with the effort it took to remain still for her. He couldn’t seem to help the little rolls of his hips, the way he wanted to remain seated as deeply as possible in her mouth. Knowing that her jaw wasn’t going to be able to handle much more, Frankie circled the base of him with two fingers and her thumb, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked hard on the upstroke.

Her hand followed her mouth with a twist, leading the way as she dove back down. Soon enough, Frankie caught her rhythm. Every flex of muscle, every hitch in his breath gave her all the direction she needed until he was so close to coming that she could taste it.

“Close,” he warned, voice ragged.

Frankie grasped his hip to ground herself, listening to the way his moans grew breathy and strained. He hardened between her lips, coming with a shout that echoed off the walls of the room. What Frankie couldn’t swallow down dripped over her chin and hands, leaving her a mess.

Eric didn’t seem to give a single fuck as he yanked her to standing and spun to crowd her against the wall. His kiss was messy, tongue rolling against hers so that he could taste himself. Rucking up the fabric of her skirt, he pushed his hand into her underwear and ran two fingers through her soaked folds. With a rotation of his wrist, he gathered the slick that coated plush flesh and sank those fingers inside.

He went to work, grinding the heel of his palm against her clit. Frankie whimpered, scrambling for purchase against his shoulders as he scissored his fingers to stretch her wide enough so that he could slip a third inside.

She was full and wet and—so suddenly that she didn’t have any time to prepare—coming hard.

If she hadn’t been sandwiched between Eric and the wall, her knees would have given out and Frankie would have melted into a puddle on the floor. Her thighs shuddered with the effort to hold herself upright. Her head felt too heavy.

The waistband of her underwear fell away, the material tangled around her ankles. Eric’s hand lifted her leg up and out of them, wrapping it around his waist. He held her chin up so that he could get a good look at her. She rolled her eyes at the way he smirked down at her, too self-satisfied by half.

In a smooth, practiced movement, he thrust into her, seating himself as deeply in her pussy as he had been in her mouth. Frankie bit her lip, brows furrowing as she adjusted to his length. Eric paused, kissing that little furrow until it smoothed.

“Alright?”

Frankie blinked rapidly, forcing herself to nod, “Uh huh.”

He moved closer, gathering her in his arms to support more of her weight, “Hold on.”

She tried. Frankie really, really tried. But there was no way she had the strength to keep hold of him when he was fucking her nearly through the wall. She cried out, the muscles in the leg that was supporting her burning with the exertion. Eric growled lowly, yanking it up and around his waist so that she could lock her ankles behind him.

All the air punched out of her as he hitched her higher, grinding. He kissed her briefly, resting his cheek against hers as he rolled his hips up against into her. Frankie ran her hand up his neck and into his hair, mussing the carefully gelled strands.

The need to come seared through her, white hot. She tightened her arms and legs around him with a pathetic whine, undeterred when he chuckled and pulled back to look down at her. Their gazes held, and behind the arrogant smile, Frankie could clearly see something dark in his eyes. Eric had never looked at her with such possession, and the way it made heat run rampant over her body was unexpected.

She touched his mouth, pressed her thumb into the razor sharp edge of his fang. Eager, Eric sucked the pad into his mouth, eyes closing in pleasure. The pace of his hips picked up, little growls rumbling in his chest.

Loosing her thumb with an obscenely wet sound, he buried his face into her neck. Knowing what he wanted, and more than willing to give it to him, Frankie turned her head to the side in offering. Without preamble, he bit down.

Frankie screamed.

She was more than used to the way his bite felt by now. She knew about the initial heat of pain, the strange pull of suction as he drank. She knew about how that pain could bloom into mind-melting arousal if he were so inclined.

With this bite, Eric was so inclined.

Her body clenched tight around him, suspended on the edge of a knife, until she tipped over in an orgasm that nearly blinded her. He felt her, released the bite to groan against her skin. She tipped her head back, letting him hold her full weight.

Still hard, Eric pulled out and set her on unsteady feet. Confused, Frankie watched him pull up his pants so that they rested, open, around his hips. Then, he grabbed the front of her dress and hauled her over to the hidden wall. She was too off balance to ask what was going on, could only wait as he tapped out the key code for the door.

Her world turned on its axis as he picked her up and jumped, landing at the bottom soundlessly. Another blur of movement, and he was throwing her down onto his bed. Frankie landed on the mattress, righted herself, and immediately went to work on the zipper of the dress.

By the time she got it and her bra off, he was naked and pressing his body atop hers. Spreading her legs, Frankie rested her hand on the center of his chest. Eric flinched, eyes closing as he drew in a shaking breath. Lining himself up, Eric’s heart kicked to life as he thrust forward, an animal sound bursting from between lips that were peeled back from his teeth.

Bracing his weight on his forearm, his movements went fluid. Frankie hand her hands down his spine, her nails digging in. He fucked her hard, eyes squeezed shut, unabashed sounds of need falling from his lips. She could feel him riding the line, desperately trying to hold onto himself and completely unable to do so.

With one last thrust, Eric held himself inside her as he came. His body shook, his hand dropping to her hip to hold her to him. Frankie pushed his hair back from his face, lifting a little to kiss his cheek as he came down.

With more care than she anticipated, Eric eased out of her and laid against her side. He wrapped an arm loosely around her waist, chest rising and falling rapidly. Frankie tangled her legs with his, enjoying the foreign warmth emanating from his skin.

“That was good,” she said unnecessarily.

He hummed in appreciation.

“Was it the dress?” she asked with a grin, “I think it was the dress.”

Eric laughed, “Sure, it was the dress.”

Frankie joined him in laughter, “Knew it.”

[ragingpancake]

Hotel California

A/N: An Earthside AU wherein John is a college student on his way to Spring Break and Rodney is a hotel receptionist. NC-17. Reposted from my old AO3 account.

The midnight sky is gray and muggy, thick with heat and humidity. The air conditioner stopped working over a hundred miles ago and even the air flowing through the open windows isn't enough to cool the sweat beading on John's forehead.

In the passenger seat, Teyla's stretched out, humming along quietly with the static on the radio as Ronon sleeps on in the backseat, oblivious to each passing mile.

John reaches out and changes the station.

"I was listening to that," Teyla says dryly as the low twang of a country guitar fills the car. John gives her a sleepy smile in return and thumps his fingers against the steering wheel, drumming along with the beat in a last ditch effort to keep himself awake. "Perhaps it would be wise if I took over for awhile?"

"I'm good," John says dismissively. He trusts Teyla's driving almost as much as he trusts her cooking, which is to say not at all.

"I have been practicing."

"Not nearly enough for my liking," John says, grinning to take the sting out of the words.  Teyla just rolls her eyes and goes back to staring out at the endless stretch of empty highway in front of them.

Driving out to California in Ronon's grandfather's beat up old station wagon hadn't been John's best idea. He's cutting two full days off their spring break with the drive there and back, but since Teyla had apparently grown up under a rock and had never taken a road trip, John and Ronon decided that their yearly trip to Long Beach was the perfect remedy.

"If you will not let me drive, maybe you would at least consider stopping for the night? We still have another five hours ahead of us and I would like to make it alive."

"Your faith in me is astounding."

"Much like your faith in me," she smirks. "Now please, find the nearest motel and pull over. I'm sick of looking at the inside of this car."

John can't argue with that.

---

It's another twenty miles and another state line until he finds a motel and by the time he climbs out of the car, he has to admit that stopping was definitely the right call; there's no way he would have made it another four hours and forty minutes.

Ronon grunts and snorts as Teyla smacks him awake. He's annoyed that they've stopped and he wants to take over driving so they can keep going, but John trusts his driving less than he trusts Teyla's. He's seen what Ronon has done to the trash cans outside of their apartment just trying to back out of the parking space.

"It's stupid to stop," Ronon grumbles as they trudge into the lobby of the seemingly deserted motel.

"I would rather get a few hours of solid sleep and then hit the road. If we continue to drive, we will be no good for anything tomorrow," Teyla says solemnly.

"Don't need sleep to surf."

"This is true, but I need sleep to finish the drive, so I say we're staying and sleeping," John says. Ronon stands just a little straighter and blinks lazily at John in what's most likely an attempt to intimidate him. It would work under other circumstances maybe, but John's just too tired to care so he waves Ronon off and slouches against the front desk, slapping his hand down on the bell.

It reverberates, echoing throughout the empty lobby.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hold your horses, I'm coming." The voice comes out of nowhere and whoever it belongs to sounds annoyed at the interruption. Seconds later, a skinny kid stomps out from behind a curtain, looking harassed and harried. He's wearing a pair of dark slacks that are at least a size too big and a white uniform shirt that's partially untucked and stained. His name tag reads 'Rodney'. "What do you want?"

"You get many people in here lookin' for something other than a room?" John drawls lazily.

Rodney snorts. "You'd be surprised. Double beds or...?"

John grins. "Double."

John watches as his fingers fly over the keyboard seemingly of their own accord. "Unfortunately, the only available room I have is a king with a pull out couch. Sorry." He doesn't sound very sorry about that.

It's not ideal, but John's exhausted and he'll be damned if he's getting back in that car. At least not until he's had a good five hours of sleep.

"John," Teyla says.

"We'll take it."

"Suit yourself. That'll be thirty five for the night."

John makes quick work of paying Rodney but he has to force himself to ignore the slight tingle when the tips of their fingers brush together. It has nothing to do, he tells himself, with the kissably crooked mouth or the hair that's curled almost delicately just above the nape of Rodney's pale neck.

Rodney stares at John for just a moment too long and John knows that he felt it too, but he pushes the thought out of his mind. "Right," Rodney says, clearing his throat. "If you'll just... follow me, I'll take you to your room."

It isn't easy, John thinks, to not stare at the barely-there outline of Rodney's ass. The baggy pants do a good job at concealing what's really underneath, but John sees enough to know what he wouldn't mind sliding into it.

He's halfway hard when Rodney slips the key card into the lock and pushes the door open. The hotel room is as nondescript and boring as every other hotel he's ever stayed in and after a quick once over, John's eyes return to Rodney just in time to catch Rodney staring. Again.

John can't help but smirk just a little.

Rodney flushes beautifully; he turns pink from the tips of his ears all the way down to his neck as he averts his eyes. "I um... I'll leave you to it, but if you need anything..."

"I know where to find you," John says.

Rodney nods, turns away and practically sprints down the hall.

---

The couch is worse than the one in their apartment, John decides as he tosses and turns, trying to find a comfortable position. Teyla and Ronon are already fast asleep, sprawled out comfortably on the large bed. John hates them just a little; he would have been more comfortable sleeping in the car.

He gives it another ten minutes and when he's no closer to sleep, he climbs off the couch and stalks out of the room, cursing Ronon and his ability to sleep anywhere and Teyla for being... well, for being Teyla.

He doesn't know where he's going and he's not sure what he's doing until he steps into the lobby.

Rodney's sitting at the front desk, hunched over something and John's cock twitches to life almost immediately.

"Hey," he calls before he can stop himself.

Rodney startles and looks up, blue eyes wide in surprise. "Uh... what... did you need something?"

He does, but John really doesn't know if it's something Rodney's willing to give but it doesn't stop him from slinking over to the desk. "What are you working on?" He asks conversationally. Mentally, he's kicking his own lame ass.

"Nothing that can't wait until later," Rodney says and then he flushes again and John can read the worry on his face; he's wondering if he's misjudged the situation.

"Cool," John says lazily. "You know, the couches in these rooms really suck."

"Yeah," Rodney agrees, clearing his throat just a little. He looks nervous and excited so John relaxes just a little bit.

"Don't happen to know a place that's a little more comfortable, do you?"

"As a matter of fact..." Rodney says.

---

Kissing Rodney is exactly like John thought it would be; his lips are incredibly kissable, but he's clumsy and awkward. It should turn John off, but it strangely enough, it doesn't. It just leaves him wanting more.

When they break apart, Rodney's breathing heavily, shoulders and chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. His mousy brown hair is soaked to his forehead because even though it's a million and five degrees outside, apparently hotels don't believe in air conditioning their employee break room.

"It's hot as fuck," Rodney complains.

"Gonna get hotter," John says and leans forward, capturing Rodney's lips again.

---

The next time they break apart, Rodney's naked and writhing beneath John. He's about two thrusts away from shamelessly humping John's leg as John takes his time undressing himself.

"Torture," Rodney wheezes.

John responds by leaning over and swallowing Rodney's cock.

It's effective in shutting him up.

At least for a minute.

--

John has had a series of one night stands before. Plenty of college guys--and girls because he's not picky--but none have been as vocal about being fucked as Rodney.

When John finally slides in between those round ass cheeks, Rodney moans and whines and pleads and begs. He arches against John, crying out for more, more, more and John doesn't hold back. He thrusts against Rodney over and over, burying himself deeper and deeper each time.

"Fuck, Rodney," John gasps and he can already feel the orgasm building low in his belly. It hasn't been this quick since the first time Kenny Lewis blew him in the passenger seat of his uncle's van, but it doesn't matter because he can feel Rodney already trembling beneath him, his cock red and weeping between them.

He's close, but Rodney's closer.

Rodney's whimpering now and clinging to John harder with every thrust. He'll have marks and bruises for days, he thinks, but it's worth it when Rodney cries out and John feels the warm spray of come on his chest.

He leans down and buries his face against Rodney's neck as he rocks his hips desperately, torn between needing to come and wanting to prolong it.

He tries to hold out, but suddenly he's coming hard enough that his vision goes hazy and when he's finally spent, he collapses on top of Rodney, breathing heavily.

John rolls off of Rodney after a minute and reaches for his discarded boxers to clean himself up. It feels wrong to just dress and go, so instead, he slumps back against the couch beside Rodney, their shoulders brushing occasionally. John thinks he should say something, but he isn't sure what.

It's Rodney who breaks the ice.

"That was..."

"Yeah," John agrees. "I should..."

"Yeah."

John doesn't move.

---

When John jogs into the lobby late the next morning to check out, he's surprised to find Rodney still hunched behind the counter, staring at a text book. He doesn't seem to hear John approach, so John clears his throat, grinning when Rodney jumps at the sound.

"What?"

John drops the key card onto the counter and slides it towards him. "Just thought I'd come say goodbye. We're heading out."

"Where to?"

"Long Beach... four days of nothing but surf and sand."

"Thrilling," Rodney says dryly. He takes the key card and clicks the computer keys. "You um... come this way often?"

"Just once a year," John says and he thinks he imagines Rodney's face falling just a little.

"Well then..." Rodney says.

"Yeah," John agrees. "I uh... my friends are waiting for me at the car, but I just..."

"You should go."

"Yeah. I..." John sighs and turns. He takes a step toward the doorway and then stops. "Hey Rodney?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe... maybe on our way back through..." He trails off.

Rodney looks hopeful. "If you need anything..."

"I know where to find you," John grins before he turns and walks out of the lobby.

[sodasback]

Jealous Part 2

ER Nurse Rafe x ER Nurse Reader

Reposting from my deleted account. 

TW: SMUT, filthy smut ...like some degradation/name calling filthy

The relationship between male firefighters/paramedics and female ER nurses has been wrought with sexual tension since the dawn of time. It’s just how it is. Medics bring in a patient and while they give report to the receiving ER nurse and wait to find out what bed they’re going in, there’s some downtime that’s always filled with flirting.

Rafe had a good relationship with all the medic guys that end up bringing patients to your ER. ...but so did you. In fact, the medics loved you. And Rafe hated that. Sure, part of him was proud that you’re charming and personable and guys like to flirt with you, and he’s the one you come home to. BUT your relationship was new and definitely still a secret, so he couldn’t make it known to all the fire guys that you were his, and that drove Rafe insane. 

But in your opinion, Rafe really shouldn’t be mad since EVERY one of your female coworkers and some of your male coworkers and a lot of the patients flirt with him shamelessly. 

Rafe was charting at the nurses’ station when he heard your laugh. He looked up and saw your hand on one of the fire fighter’s shoulders as you broke into a fit of giggles. Rafe instantly stood up straighter and couldn’t help but flex his muscles and tense his jaw a little. 

After the 3rd time you practically doubled over laughing, Rafe [attempted to] casually walk up to you.

“What’s so funny?” Rafe asked, still trying to be as nonchalant as possible, but jealousy saturated his tone. 

You cleared your throat a little, turning your laugh into an awkward cough and ever so slightly moved away from Joel, the fire fighter. 

“Oh hey, Cameron. What’s up man?” Joel asked. 

Rafe just tilted his chin up to him, “Sup Mendez?” he replied and then looked at you. You glared back at him for acting so obviously jealous and rude to Joel. 

“Uhh Y/N, can you help me with bed 7?” Rafe asked. 

“Bed 7′s empt-” But Rafe was quite literally already dragging you away with a tight grip on your arm and into one of the few private rooms in your Emergency Department. 

“Rafe?! What on earth are you doing?” You whisper-yelled at him as he pulled you into the room and shut the door, pulling the curtain over the window.

“Rafe! This room is empty, what could you possibly need help wi-”

“Shut up” He told you, his fingers prodding your hips as he took a step towards you, causing you to back up into the counter. Then he abruptly lifted you onto the counter. You gasped as Rafe hooked an arm around each leg, spreading them for him to settle in between. He roughly kissed you until you pushed against his chest hard enough for him to pull back.

“What is up with you?!” You asked, shocked by this behavior.

Rafe let out an irritated sigh. “It drives me crazy that the medic guys flirt with you and I can’t show everyone you’re mine. Which by the way, you could at least say you have a boyfriend.” He said, starting to get accusatory. 

“Oh, like you tell all our nurses that you have girlfriend?” You bit back. 

“Whatever! Point is: I’m fucking jealous and I’m being a caveman or whatever, but I don’t care! After watching you flirt with Joel, I feel like I need to fuck the life out of you right now.” He finished, exasperated and then paused for a second, “Is that okay?” 

“Uhh... yeah” You stuttered, surprised at his honesty. He smirked at your permission. And then Rafe pulled your legs towards him causing you to slip closer to the edge of the counter making you to gasp again. 

“Good” he said before kissing you hard. You tried to kiss back with just as much intensity. Rafe hissed when you bit on his lip; he squeezed your thighs in response. 

“Take off your top” he ordered but started kissing you again. You reached for the hemline of your scrub top and started pulling it over your head. Rafe pulled back so you could take it off. 

 “Fuck” you cursed as you hit your head on the cabinet. Rafe was kissing your neck and biting at it, but not hard enough to leave mark at work. You pushed at Rafe’s chest again, but he didn’t budge as he continued kissing your neck with fervor. 

“Rafe. There’s not enough space. This isn’t working” You told him frustrated. Rafe growled into your neck and picked you up off the counter and instead, he roughly pushed your back into the wall and your let legs fall down a little so you were both standing. 

“I mean there’s a bed right there.” You complained, but Rafe bit into your collarbone hard. “ow, Rafe!”

“Stop talking” he said, pausing and raising his eyebrows in anticipation of you not following his command.

Your pupils dilated and you felt yourself get wet at this very dominant version of your boyfriend in front of you. You closed your mouth for the first time ever when a guy told you to be quiet. 

He smiled at you smugly for following his directions for once. 

He kissed down your chest as he interlaced his fingers with yours and pinned your arm against the wall next to your head. With his other hand, he pulled down your sports bra to reveal your boobs to him. He squeezed one while he sucked on the nipple of the other. 

“So fucking perfect” he remarked, squeezing your other boob roughly. Then, he moved his hand straight into your panties, wasting no more time.

 “Fuck and fucking perfect pussy. Already so wet for me. Tell me, Y/N, who’s pussy is this?” He asked running his fingers through your drenched folds. 

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk” You said breathlessly. Rafe paused for a milisecond before plunging 2 fingers into your cunt abruptly, causing you to fall forward onto his shoulders a little. 

“You’re such a fucking brat” Rafe told you as he finger fucked you. You let your head roll back against the wall again. 

“Yeah, but I’m your fucking brat” You said, between breaths with a smirk. Rafe smirked back you. 

“Damn straight, baby. Don’t forget it.” He said, still pumping his fingers in and out of you. 

“Fuck, Rafe!” You groaned. 

“What pretty girl?” 

“I need you. I need your dick inside me.” 

Rafe instantly pulled his fingers from you. “Take your clothes off.” He commanded before bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking them clean while you took your shoes, pants and underwear off. 

“You taste so good baby. I’m the only one who gets to taste your pretty cunt. Right, Y/N?” Rafe asked, as he pulled his cock out and ran the tip of it through your folds, teasing you. You took a deep breath, desperately wanting him inside you. 

“Yes, Rafe.” 

“Tell me how much you want my cock inside you.” 

“Rafe, please. I need you inside me so bad! Please make me cum all over your cock baby.” 

Rafe slid into you slowly, hissing at the feeling as you took a big inhale at the feeling of being filled up. You looked at each other in the eyes and Rafe hooked an arm around the back of your knee to hold your leg up and get a better angle. Then he pulled almost all the way out and slammed back into you, making you moan. 

“Shit” you cursed out in pleasure.

“You’re my little slut. No one else’s.” Rafe said through gritted teeth as he pounded into you. 

“Fuck Rafe! Yes! Don’t stop!” 

“Who’s pussy is this Y/N? Who are you a dirty little moaning whore for?” 

“You Rafe” You breathed out. Rafe brought his thumb to your clit and expertly moved in tiny circular motions. 

“Who’s the only one who can make you cum like this?” 

“You Rafe. Fuck please, Rafe. I’m close!” You whined, closing your eyes as he continued to pound you into the wall. 

“You have to ask before you can cum. This is my tight little pussy, only I can say when you cum.” 

“Rafe, please, can I cum?” You whimpered. 

“Go ahead baby” He gave in pretty easily, never actually wanting to deny you. He vigorously played with your clit while slamming in and out of you. 

“Fuck!” You shouted probably too loudly and Rafe slapped his hand over your mouth as you moaned through your orgasm. 

“Such a filthy girl for me, getting fucked at work.” He told you as he worked you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Fuck, hold on baby, I’m right behind you.” Rafe said as he squeezed your hand pinned to the wall and bit into your shoulder as his whole body shuddered while he came inside you. “Fuckkkk” he cursed. 

You breathed hard, “Fuck Rafe” you whispered, letting your head fall on his shoulder. You felt his body relax and he groaned as he pulled out of you. You shivered at the empty feeling. 

You started to bend down to pick up your scrubs, but Rafe pushed you back up against the wall. He ran a finger through your folds collecting the mixture of your’s and his cum, making you recoil from the stimulation on your sensitive cunt. He held his finger in front of your face. You gave him an evil smile before wrapping your lips around it. 

“The only cum allowed in your mouth is yours and mine.” He told you in a low, dangerous tone as you swirled your tongue around his finger. He pulled his finger from your mouth and you licked your lips seductively. 

“Geez remind me to tell Mendez to help me make you jealous more often.” You said and Rafe’s mouth dropped open. 

“You were trying to make me jealous?” Rafe asked, putting a hand on the wall next to your head, keeping you trapped in your spot. 

“Not at first, and I definitely wasn’t expecting to get railed in a patient room at work though. But that was hot.” You said, giving Rafe a peck and pushing him away so you could get dressed again. 

“Really? You’re not mad at me for being jealous?” He asked.

“Not if it means you’re gonna fuck me like that every once in a while.” 

Your boyfriend had a smug smirk plastered on his face, “You’re such a dirty girl for me, aren’t you?” 

“Don’t start again. We have to go back to work.” You admonished as you turned for the door. Rafe grabbed your hand and spun you into him and then placed a gentle sweet kiss on your lips. 

“I love you” He said softly, looking straight into your eyes, “Thanks for putting up with me being a possessive caveman sometimes.” 

“I love you too. Thanks for putting up with me making you jealous sometimes. You know I would never mean to disrespect you by being too flirty with another guy right?” 

“I know baby. I trust you and I know I’m the one you’re in a relationship with. As long as you let me remind you with some rough possessive sex sometimes.” 

“Oh you can give me rough possessive sex anytime, babe” You assured him.

Rafe laughed, “Careful, don’t write a check your cute ass can’t cash, pretty girl.” He said slapping your butt as you both headed back to work.

Taglist: @moniamaybank @abbyj1822 @october-cameron @hernameisnoell @railmerafe

[sukiglycerin]

call it fate (or a christmas miracle) || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: bodyguard!katsuki bakugou x earthbending quirk!reader (gender neutral!)

* genre: bodyguard!au, fluff, some angst, fake dating, aNd thEre wAs OnE bEd

* words: 10.3k (help)

* warnings: swearing bc bakugou, too much backstory, idk what bodyguards even do, there’s a fight scene (in a similar lieu to the sports festival arc), hunter x hunter? no this is tsundere x tsundere, i want to hug bakugou, yes i imagine mr. tanaka to be the tanaka from kuroshitsuji, christmas is a very minor aspect of the story (but the title was too good to resist)

* original request from @apexqueenie​: Hnnnnnnnnnnnngh can I get a Bodygaurd Bakuboi x bratty reader who don’t like to be watched like a hawk cuz she wants to do fun things pretty please? // and from anonymous:  if it's ok, can I request Bakugou with a reader who has a quirk like earth bending please? // and from @killkurzyackerman​: ÒWÓ UR REQS ARE OPEN can u do a bakubabe with like lil sassy bad bitch vibe reader bc ive seen a lot of fics that sorta like softie or angel type and no offense theyre great but ya know sumthn diff this time please

* a/n: this is a very long fic, to say the least. i combined these three requests! though reader’s quirk doesn’t appear often, it conveys my thoughts on how bakugou would go about with that quirk. moreover, i hope this reader is badass? i realize that that characterization is quite hard for me. so, i hope you don’t see reader as super soft! i made them fight back against bakugou (literally, too) and kinda bratty hehe. i got to explore a lot of new things with this fic, so i hope they reach you well. this is a repost because it originally did not show up in the tags!

* synopsis: things had gotten boring with bakugou as your bodyguard. it was only until an interesting proposal by the man that things would change. well, maybe a little too much would change...

you, to be quite simple and honest, were getting tired of katsuki bakugou. he'd been your bodyguard for years (years! much longer than any other you'd hired!) and he was getting boring. dull. plain. any synonymous word would fit. he was boring like a 24 hour session of watching paint dry, monotone like a professor’s droning that never failed to put you to sleep. (perhaps he was even more spiritless than professor sato at the academy. he caught you sleeping no less than thirteen times in his class. the number didn’t even account for the times he didn’t catch you.)

to the untrained eye, katsuki bakugou is vibrant. he's aggressive, unruly, and ruggedly charming (somehow). he's a wonder in a suit-and-tie and the epitome of an oxymoron with his harsh words, rough hands, and crisp suit. it was that very reason you’d hired him; his personality excited you. it seemed unpredictable and it was a challenge.

like all other challenges, bakugou was not impossible. once the challenge was overcome, time flow was stagnant; you watched the ticking of a clock as the day passed by you. you’d gotten used to him and he’d gotten used to you. these days, he watched you like a hawk. you could never slip past those sharp eyes anymore, no matter what you did. he was not fazed by any of your antics (ticked off mildly, sure, but he could live with it).

“leave me alooooone,” you whined for the fourth time in an hour as you exited a mall. bakugou's hands were full of shopping bags filled with everything from clothing to the latest technological invention. you weren’t sure how he was supposed to protect you in that condition. though, to be candid - in the first place, you didn’t need protection. you attended a private institution designed to maximize the use of your quirk as a child and graduated with absolutely flying colors. on top, you’d taken various martial arts outside of school. you didn’t know why your parents were still concerned about your wellbeing. you handled it fine. around 99.9% of the time, you could easily beat your bodyguard in a fair fight. it was a regular practice for you; so common that there was a reward if a bodyguard could last longer than six months working for you. not that any of them liked to be called bodyguards.

“sweetheart, i would if i could,” bakugou gritted through his teeth. “pay’s too good to- goddamn, what did you even buy?” he’d stopped behind you to adjust his grip on one of the bags.

you hummed pleasantly, continuing at your same, leisurely pace. his question was a rhetoric; he watched you buy everything with your black credit card. you watched as a car pulled up in front of you.

“there’s our ride,” you said, brushing bakugou’s shoulder as you stepped into the car. he grunted in response, loading the car with your purchases.

“fight me with your quirk when we get home,” you said during the ride. “you have, what, a boom boom quirk?”

he made a noise in his throat, voice hard. “my quirk’s explosions. nitroglycerin.”

“dangerous,” you said through a smile. he’d never used his quirk around you, but you were already starting to see possibilities of strategies you could use.

“so says the master earthbender,” he retorted sarcastically.

you clicked your tongue. “we’ll see who wins in the fight, explodo-boy.”

“finally brave enough to challenge me, eh?"

“i was always this brave.”

“oh, give it up already, bakugou!” you directed another wall of rocky terrain toward bakugou, who blew up the land and sent rocks flying. his stance was hunched slightly, forehead matted with sweat. the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, coat long abandoned on the rugged terrain.

“tired already?” he snarled. he put his hands together, preparing for a bigger explosion. you didn’t let him have this opportunity, slinging a large rock to absorb the impact of the explosion. he dodged swiftly, to your disappointment, but his attack seemed to be subdued.

you used his delayed reaction time to try to trap him with terrain under his feet, but he was somehow a step ahead of you. you heard a popping noise; bakugou was propelled through the air, your rocks blasted already and a cloud of dust forming. you cussed under your breath, already moving yourself away from his estimated landing spot that was too close to you.

he sent crackling explosions to the bottoms of your feet, but you easily dodged them. you created a temporary platform of elevated ground to protect yourself from the small explosions, jumping off it and rolling away. he was already aiming a larger blast toward you, presumably expecting your escape route. you figured it’d be a directed blast to pierce through a wall. you knew that the explosion would be unavoidable. to counter, you created a line of walls resembling dominos. they acted as stairsteps; you quickly ran up to the highest you could conjure in the short time you had before bakugou hit them. you grabbed the closest piece of rock that you could and leapt as bakugou’s blast made contact with your steps, chucking the rock at him and aiming to kick him when you landed. you knew he had no power to counter, being unable to react quickly due to the powerful nature of the blast he’d conjured.

you were about to win when the door to the training facility opened. you froze, literally, in midair and frowned, turning to look at the intruder.

“fighting, young-?” one of the butlers, tanaka, said. he was an elderly man with a gentle voice, but his eyes always seemed to glint with a clandestine humour in it.

“you can call me by my first name. please put me down, tanaka,” you said, no malice in your voice. he nodded, and you softly landed on your feet next to bakugou. you’d known tanaka for far too long for him to use honorifics with you. he’d practically raised you as a child.

“you haven’t fought in a while,” tanaka commented. he conjured a water bottle (you never knew how he had the right things for the right occasions) and walked toward you.

you made a noise of acknowledgement. “and it seems i was just about to win.”

he smiled tenderly. “i’m sure.” he handed you the water bottle, which upon further inspection, you saw was ice cold.

“thank you,” you said, gingerly accepting the beverage. the water flowed soothingly down your throat, easing the aching that had formed due to all the dust you’d kicked up in the fight.

“mr. bakugou?” tanaka asked, offering another water bottle (seriously, where did he get that?).

“thanks,” bakugou took the bottle. he drank feverishly, quickly finishing the bottle in what must’ve been two seconds flat. so undignified.

“y/n, you have an appointment in 15 minutes with-” tanaka said as you capped your water bottle.

“oh, yeah,” you said, waving off the matter. “i got it.”

you brushed off the dust on your clothes and started toward the exit. bakugou was quick to follow you, nodding politely to tanaka.

bakugou stood outside the door during the meeting you had with your father. you were not a minute too late or too early when you stepped into your father’s office, freshened up and dressed in clean attire, the dusty clothing from your fight with bakugou long discarded. the smell of leather and mint enveloped you, reminding you of the days you’d play in your father’s office in your youth. the room was always dim, the light on your father’s desk being the brightest object in the vicinity when the curtains were pulled down. when you were younger, you liked to pretend the room was made of chocolate, as the color was so dominant on the interior. your father was not pleased to find five-year-old you trying to bite the corner of his desk, to say the least. 

the sight of his office was ever-so familiar to you, and once held a feeling of endearment in your heart. that was then; now, you only ever entered the room for a business-related matter. your face was blank, lips held in a thin line -  you anticipated the topic of the meeting since your father first scheduled it a week ago. it, quite frankly, was inevitable; you could be neither opposed nor favorably disposed to it.

“i’ve found a compatible match for you, y/n.” your father sat at his desk, eyes intensely trained on you. “they’re from a well-off family with a strong quirk.”

compatible. it didn’t mean they got along with you or would be a good partner; no, it meant that they matched the superficial criteria set by your family.

“yes, father,” you said indifferently. he nodded, as if already expecting the answer.

“you’ll meet them soon. we’re arranging the date,” he folded his hands on the desk. “tanaka will alert you of it when it’s finalized. that is all.”

you nodded, taking your cue to leave. giving the room one last glance, you started to push the door open, then paused. door halfway open, allowing outside light to stream into the dark room, you looked back at your father. it was now or never to ask, you guessed.

“father… we wouldn’t happen to be having a family gathering anytime soon, would we? for new years or anything...” you hadn’t had any in the recent years, but you’d figured you’d ask. the scent of homemade food and the comforting chatter of the gatherings always made your heart swell.

he grunted, not looking up from the papers he shuffled around in his hands. “no.”

“ah. okay,” you said, sighing quietly. you knew better than to get your hopes up for such things. you turned back to the light, where bakugou was awaiting you, and shut the door behind you with a thud.

you walked in silence.

“so, no plans for the holidays?” bakugou asked bluntly.

“eavesdropping, i see,” you deadpanned.

“shouldn’t’ve had the conversation in front of the whole damn world.”

you rolled your eyes. “what about it?” you asked. “my lack of plans, i mean.”

“well-” he coughed awkwardly into his sleeve, averting his eyes. “that old hag- my, uh, mom, somehow got under the impression that i’m no longer… single. probably because of my profession - she thinks it’s ridden with scandals like a damn drama - but, uh… she’s expecting me to bring… company home for our christmas dinner…. and i can’t ask any of my friends, ‘cause she knows them… i wouldn’t damn ask you if i had no other option…”

“thanks,” you interjected. you held your tongue from making a comment about how little friends he probably had. “anyway, why don’t you tell her no?”

he slouched. “have you met her?” he grumbled. “the hag won’t listen to me. trust me, i would’ve, but… you can’t refuse her, once her mind is set on something… she’s too stubborn for her damn good.”

“like you,” you remarked, earning a small shove from the man.

“pl-” he choked, “pl - ah, fuck - please can you go to the dinner with me? it’s just for a night and morning, i need you to fake being my date. i can tell her we broke up later or whatever, i just really need…”

your lip curled. a desperate bakugou was a rare sight, and you wanted to relish in it for as long as you could. you feigned further consideration.

“but there’s so much i would rather be doing…” you whined. it was a lie. all you wanted was some variation in your life; a dinner didn't sound too bad. perhaps there was a dark secret within the bakugou family you could exploit. 

“like what, wasting money?” bakugou muttered bitterly under his breath. you shot him a dirty look.

“fine, please?” he asked again. “there’ll be some damn good food… and, uh…” you tapped your foot with false impatience.

he cussed under his breath. “i’ll do whatever you want, damnit, just go with me! please!”

you cocked an eyebrow. “whatever i want?”

“yes, for a day,” he groused. “only a day.”

“alright!” you pumped your fist up. your father’s business training came in handy sometimes. “when’s the dinner?”

“this weekend,” bakugou said. “we also need to, uh, figure out how to act more… coupley.”

“...right,” you said. business class had not prepared you for that. “how the fuck do we do that?”

as it turned out, you two were not the best pair to fake a relationship. neither of you had actually been in a relationship prior to this. you didn’t really have time to date on top of your studies and such; you didn’t need to, anyway, because all of the people who were romantically interested in you bored you. their personality traits either consisted of rich or doormat. as for bakugou - well, he was bakugou. you couldn’t see anyone wanting to date that brute.

“i’ll pay,” you said upon entering a cafe. it was a big cafe, nestled in the midst of an even bigger mall. your tone was firm; there’d be no way bakugou would be paying. you looked up at the menu and said to him, “the usual?”

he was silent for a moment, and you almost thought he hadn’t heard you. he cleared his throat. “uh, yeah, sure. the usual.” weird.

you ordered yourself a drink and bakugou his usual order, a decaf iced caramel macchiato with light ice. he looked at you with a strange emotion on his face when you handed him his drink.you practically shoved it in his hands while he was too starstruck about god-knows-what.

the two of you settled at a booth (“table,” bakugou had argued. you eventually won the debate).

“so… trivia about each other, right?” you asked. “i guess we’ve got to get to know each other more.” he nodded. “well, first, you need to stop being so quiet. right now, you’re not my bodyguard or anything. we’re, uh…. dating. we’re partners. datemates. lovers.”

he choked on his drink at the word “lovers.” he sputtered, then gained composure. “yeah.”

“okay, i need to you to be more casual.”

“tch, who said i’m not casual right now?!” there it was; this was the bakugou you’d known when you first met him. he was awkward and amateur-ish, stumbling on his words and failing miserably at being polite. it was a fond memory. overtime, he’d obviously polished himself up (but only in the presence of you and your family).

“that’s more like it,” you said.

“tch.” he sipped his coffee, unrelenting to admit that you’d won.

“well, let’s cover basic facts. your birthday is april 20 and you like spicy food.”

he coughed again, setting his drink down. “yeah.”

“are you okay? d’you need water, or something? are the lights in here too bright?”

he shook his head, eyes still dazed with a certain unclarity. “‘m fine, idiot.”

you weren’t convinced. “...whatever you say.”

he took another sip, closing his eyes then continuing as normal. normal, in the standards of bakugou, of course. “i-i think i know damn well enough about you. don’t need to prove shit,” he grumbled the last bit.

“a little bit too well,” you muttered saltily. “well, this is a learning experience for me, take it or leave it. we need to get along at the dinner, don’t we?” you drummed your fingers on the table, eyes darting around at the cafe. the decor was pretty. 

he made a grievance under his breath, but nodded. “there’s my dad and my mom - the old hag - and me. i’m an only child.” figures. he continued, “they both work in fashion… yeah… my dad’s more quiet than my mom, she’s loud… apparently we’re a lot alike - don’t comment - but yeah, she’s my mom. they live in shizuoka, and it’ll be just them at the dinner. you’ll need to stay overnight...”

“seems… intimate,” you commented offhandedly.

he whistled. “you think?”

the gears in your head turned as you stared into the space over bakugou's shoulder at a large poster of some featured drink. it was all small talk to you, but you saw this meeting for what it was. an opportunity. it was your break from the uniform days plaguing you for the past week's - he wouldn’t need to watch over you, now your fake lover. lovers were equal. 

love - what was love? you didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. feigned or not, it was different. couples were moody, from what you could gather. one day they’d be hanging off each other’s limbs, and the next, they were bickering their heads off. it sounded fun, to be a couple with bakugou rather than his employer. you could say goodbye to normalcy and tedium.

you felt your lips turn into a smile as a plan developed in your mind, tapping the table at an increasingly faster tempo. who cared about the dinner? you were a fake couple! you could break away from the norm and find the things that made bakugou tick. you could gain a one-up over him. you could pick his personality apart piece by piece until it broke the monotony of daily life. you watched bakugou’s expression grow puzzled and frustrated. you pretended to be deep in thought, aware that bakugou was opening his mouth to make a snarky comment presumably about how the smile on your face was getting unnerving to him.

you didn’t let him speak, instead cupping your face in your hands and leaning in towards him. “how do you think we should become more intimate, kat-su-ki?”

you think you got soft over the years. when you first met bakugou, he was a rough little thing. being the same age as you, he was far less qualified compared to the other candidates to be your bodyguard. he looked out of place in his suit identical to everyone else. call it fate, or what you will, beckoning you towards him. when you first met him, you could’ve never imagined how far into the future you’d be stuck with the boy. all of the bodyguards you’d hired prior to bakugou’s appearance in your life didn’t last long. it wasn’t their fault; no, no, they were very competent. extremely competent - to the point it was boring, scrutinized under their meticulous gaze. you could do absolutely nothing under their watch, and where was the fun in that?

so, long story short, you hired bakugou for his incompetence. you’d low expectations for how long he’d last. you were surprised he could even put on a tie properly. from the way his hair spiked in every which way (“undignified!” your father had complained to you) and how his feet shuffled against the nice, newly polished cherry wood floors (“the scuff marks…”), bakugou was far from the epitome of a bodyguard. he couldn’t sit still and constantly made weird crackling noises (which you later learned were small explosions, not the concerningly incessant crack of his knuckles). the cherry on top to the disaster pie called bakugou, however, was his speech. he was polite, at face value, but also incredibly rough at face value. if you transcribed his words down, they’d be all standard formalities. it was the quirky way in which he presented his words; gritted out like somehow had forced him into this job. actually, scratch that, it was like this job was the be-all or end-all of his life. he was like an extremely tsundere shounen protagonist. he needed to win (“win what?” your father had laughed in disbelief) and be the very best. you'd… appreciate the sentiment more if you were his mentor in becoming a pokemon trainer.

of all the things bakugou was at the time, he was not a stoic old man nor a cold, indifferent boy who looked down on you snottily; he got the job. much to your father’s chagrin, of course. you’re pretty sure he had a backup bodyguard during the first month or so of bakugou’s employment, in case bakugou dropped out mysteriously for any reason. 

surprisingly, bakugou was competent, but not infuriatingly so. he had snark, and under any other employer he would’ve been fired in the first week. he did his job, and that was all. it was fun to tick him off, too, and so easy. it was - dare you say it? - cute. you wanted to watch him fall apart and leave, as so many others had. you waited for the day he’d get used to you or vice versa, when you’d wake up with nothing to look forward to. in the end, no one ever stayed with you. you could usually figure that out within the first week of a bodyguard’s services.

these days, you started feeling that way. bakugou was just becoming everyone else you’d ever hired. he was becoming everyone else. for some reason, though, you still clasped onto the thread of hope that maybe he was different, and that led you down a series of events trying to convince yourself he was different.

at the same time, you told yourself he was like everyone else. did you want him to stay or not? you didn’t know anymore. maybe fate would spin something good out of this, or maybe he would. you didn’t want it in your hands anymore.

being flirty was definitely not the best route of plan, but man, it was efficient. what better way to fake being a couple than organically develop that relationship? that was your bullshit reasoning to the logical part of yourself (when it was obviously far from the truth).

yeah, it was definitely not the best plan. you bored of it quite quickly, but couldn’t shake off the lasting feeling of fluttering in your stomach. you supposed it was because it was the most reaction you’d gotten from bakugou in months. you’d never seen him so disgruntled.

he was very, very blushy. you didn’t know how you hadn’t learned of it earlier. his cheeks were dusted strawberry red, matching the hue on the tips of his ears. ah, tsundere bakugou had returned for a short period of time. you wished you could've taken a picture of him.

you tapped the tip of his nose and he hissed at you, cheeks darkening a shade.

“a boop?” he scoffed indignantly in disbelief. “who calls it that? a five year old?” but you could tell that he really enjoyed it on the inside.

“what- what are you playing at, dumbass?” he swatted your hand when you tried to boop him again.

“c’mon, couples need to do coupley things, katsuki,” you cooed. “like overly affectionate pda~”

you didn’t know someone could get so red.

“since when did you call me by my first name?” he grumbled, unable to form any other type of response.

“since we started ‘dating,’” you teased back, realizing that watching bakugou become more and more uncomposed was more fun than you’d expected. he'd never become so open around you; after all, you'd had a strictly professional relationship prior, so bakugou never expressed any hint of a personality other than his behavior when he was first hired. it was a good change, in your eyes.

then, as you did of most things, you bored of it. sure, flustering bakugou was fun because he was so outwardly tsundere, but your attention span was short. he was already starting to recollect himself in record time, face cooling from a startling scarlet to pink and remarks becoming increasingly cohesive.

you're not even sure if he was aware of your gaze resting upon him as you half-assed responses and watched the gears in his head furiously turn. when he got real worked up, he pouted when speaking and occasionally slurred words together. his eyes tended to veer away when he thought of a response and he always got fidgety. 

eventually, you stopped teasing him. by this time, the ice in his drink had already melted and you were dangerously close to kissing him on the cheek (it was an impulse thing! you were not catching feelings!).

if there was one thing you learned, it was this: bakugou was truly a sight in his emotional state, though you could argue his unassuming state was equally, if not more breathtaking.

you noticed it as morning light illuminated him through the window of your room, hitting the silky fabric of your bedsheets around him. he was reading some book, dressed in comfortable attire that felt oddly domestic. maybe it'd be the most casual you'd ever see bakugou.

the thought struck a chord in you, making you wonder what'd happen after the dinner. it'd be awkward, for sure. it dawned on you that these moments with katsuki would vanish and things would go back to normal. they'd disappear into thin air, like nothing had ever happened. you weren't well educated in horology, but you were pretty sure that the time you'd spent with him would vanish as well, not to be spoken of or referenced ever again. time would keep trudging forward and you'd only be able to stare back as it disappeared on the horizon line.

you wanted to grasp the time that flooded your hands, encase the moment in glass and hold it in your palm forever.

"oi, idiot, what are you staring at?" and maybe it was the first time you truly heard bakugou's voice. it was rough on the edges with a soft core, you realized. maybe, after these couple of days, bakugou had started to care for you.

"nothing, stupid," you mumbled, returning your attention to your phone, but you couldn't shake off the newfound feeling that holed up in your heart. bakugou didn't care about you, you told yourself. you had a strictly professional relationship with him, and that was only broken for the time being because he needed a favour. 

right. this was all for a favor.

nights spent testing each other on the most miniscule of facts and afternoons spent telling each other stories about each other - it was all nothing. it wasn't a big deal, you repeated to yourself.

still, you couldn't help but to look back up at bakugou and let your imagination run. he wore a black shirt and sweatpants, a complete 180 turn from the typical three piece suit he normally wore. maybe this is what he'd look like in the mornings if you were a proper couple, not client and bodyguard - maybe in another universe. you could imagine his bedhead, hair all messy and eyes still worn with sleep, vastly different from the professional persona he had around you.  you'd wake up inhaling the scent of caramel and feeling his warmth surround you, feeling secure merely in his embrace. it'd be him and you in your own little bubble, unperturbed by the entire world.

wait, caramel? you wondered. where did that come from?

"you're staring again, dumbass," bakugou grunted, not looking up from his book.

"zoned out on the blandest thing i saw, sorry," you replied.

you sat in silence like that for a while. you weren't not exactly sure how it was bonding time for the dinner (were you sharing telepathic waves?), but it was comfortable like a fluffy comforter on a frigid winter day. it felt secure, like a home you never had in your own bedroom. every now and then there was the sound of a page turning from bakugou and a tap on your phone from you, and things never felt so normal. it was too short an eternity for you; before you knew it, you had some event to attend to for your father, solely there for the image of his company.

you didn't see the bittersweet look on bakugou's face as he watched you leave, or how he hadn't even finished a chapter of his book during the hours he'd sat with you. as his eyes followed your disappearing silhouette, bakugou wondered if he'd ever be able to see you like that again.

a foreign giddy feeling filled your chest as you got ready for the dinner with bakugou’s parents. you’d brought a bag for light travel packed with essentials (pyjamas, toothbrushes, and things like that), having planned ahead. you were typically indifferent to gatherings of any kind, having attended so many for your father. besides, this was a favor for bakugou. you weren’t sure why you were being so indecisive choosing an outfit for the dinner, or why your heart felt light as a feather, fluttering about in your rib cage boundless. this was no big deal, you told yourself. it’d only be bakugou and his parents; you’d spoken at gatherings of far more people with less nerves. you penned it down to only being excited for the food which was so coveted by bakugou. his mother, mitsuki, was apparently an outstanding cook (bakugou was apparently good as well), and you had to admit, you missed the heartening scent of homemade dishes. her specialty was spicy curry - your mouth watered at the thought. 

yes, you reassured yourself as you walked out of the door and met the fresh, winter air outside, you were only in it for the food. you had an abnormally fast heart rate and a spring to your step (as noted by bakugou) solely for the food. 

shizuoka prefecture was two hours away from your hometown, tokyo, and you forced bakugou to drive. the trip didn’t really feel like two hours, anyway, in your opinion. according to bakugou, that was only because you were sleeping the majority of the time and he was stuck with the dull task of driving and only the low hum of the radio to entertain him. 

“well, this is it,” you said to bakugou, approaching his parents’ home, bag in hand. it looked quite elegant on the outside, snow thinly blanketing the well-kept greenery in the front. you turned to look at him. his suit looked nicer than usual, on full display because he refused to wear a coat despite the frigid air biting at any bit of bare skin unsheathed on your body. (“just the perks of having a great quirk like mine,” he’d said. you punched his shoulder.) you huddled closer into the warm padding of your coat, watching your white breath dissipate in the air.

“it is,” he belatedly said. his face was atypically solemn, eyes downcast and seemingly lost in thought. you didn’t comment on it. something about the nippy winter air numbed the atmosphere, as if all warmth had subsided only to your coat. 

“do i look alright?” you asked him, trying to wipe away any last bits of drool you might’ve had on the corner of your mouth.

“yeah. you look… really nice,” he commented quietly. you didn’t mention that your bulky coat was covering the entirety of your attire. a heavy silence fell over the two of you.

anyway, the mood was quickly relieved by the presence of mitsuki bakugou, who greeted the pair of you at the door with her husband, masaru. bakugou really was a spitting image of his mother, sharing the same spiked blond hair and annoyingly clear skin with her. they also had similarly loud personalities, you observed later on. they’d often bicker with no real malicious intent. they were both much different compared to bakugou’s father, masaru, who was a gentle, soft-spoken man with brown hair and glasses. 

mitsuki met you with enthusiasm, eagerly asking you questions about yourself and your relationship with bakugou. it was strange to see bakugou so quiet; though, at some points in the conversation, he looked like he was going to be sick. you didn’t have time to ask him about it, occupied by his mother’s unending but well-meaning questions. you’d expected to fib for most of them, but the truth easily slipped from your tongue. even compliments about him were half-truths. 

"when we first met, he was like a fish out of water!" you recounted to mitsuki. "he stumbled on his words and my father didn't approve of him as my bodyguard. but, i pushed through, and here we are! right, katsuki?"

"r-right," he coughed, unable to look you in the eye and fidgeting nervously.

"it amazed me, too," mitsuki admitted. "i'd never seen our katsuki looking so polished before - it used to be a trouble getting him to even wake up at a decent time." she smiled at you. "you've brought a blessing on him."

bakugou cleared his throat. "don't talk about me like i'm not here," he grumbled.

"oh, katsuki," mitsuki cooed, pinching bakugou's cheek. "masaru, let's prepare dinner." she looked at you and bakugou. "the two of you don't need to worry about a thing - oh, you still have your bags! i’ll put them in katsuki’s room."

upon the absence of bakugou’s parents, the two of you sat beside each other without a word. 

“are you… feeling alright?” you asked suddenly, breaking the silence. “you don’t look so well.”

“fine,” he grunted. “i’m fine.”

“are you sure?” you teased in an attempt to lighten the mood. “not nervous meeting the parents?”

he cracked a small smile, but his fingers still nudged each other in his lap. you touched his shoulder, first in an attempt to comfort him, but soon realized that he was very toasty. you scooted towards him; he stared at you with an surprised, indecipherable expression. you linked his arm with yours and leaned into him, inhaling his cologne and bathing in his warmth.

“what?” you mumbled. “you’re warm.” you intertwined his fingers with yours. “warm,” you happily cooed, eyes slipping shut. 

“jesus christ,” bakugou hissed. “you’re freezing. is it humanly possible for your hands to be this cold?” his other hand enveloped your hand (still being held by his), rubbing his thumb soothingly on the heel of your palm. a bubble of warmth fizzed inside you, heart effervescing like a carbonated beverage. he held you long after your hand had passed room temperature, and you sensed that maybe the fuzzy feeling jittering about you wasn’t his quirk. it was like some sort of low fire, crackling deep within you. you hadn’t much time to dwell on the thought when your eyes jolted open, smelling really, really good food wafting from somewhere near.

“look at the lovebugs,” you heard mitsuki murmur, standing in the doorway connecting the kitchen to the living room leaning on her husband. “dinner’s ready,” she softly said upon noticing your eyes on her. 

your eyes widened, looking down at the hand entwined in yours, and you look at the man next to you. bakugou was sound asleep, tranquil slumber having sheathed itself around him. his head leaned against the top of the couch, mouth slightly agape and chest falling rhythmically.

“hey,” you whispered. reluctant to let go of his hand, you used your opposite hand to tap his shoulder lightly. “hey, sleepyhead.”

bakugou groaned, eyes still closed and body unmoving. “five… more… minutes…”

“sure,” you said easier than you expected. you immediately let go of the man’s hand (he reached out toward you blindly at this) and stood up. “i’ll just eat all of that food you've been looking forward to by myself…” mitsuki and masaru looked at you fondly.

“nice try, dumbass,” he said gruffly, standing up and putting a hand on your shoulder. his eyes were lidded with torpor and his voice was an octave deeper. it sent shivers down your spine - you hadn’t ever heard his voice like that - and a part of you wanted to hear it again. sadly, the effects of sleep passed him quite quickly; by the time he’d said “let’s eat, dumbass,” and made his way to the dining room, his voice was back to normal.

dinner consisted of scrumptious-looking (and tasting!) chicken katsu, curry, and even more conversation. your mouth watered as you spooned yourself the perfect ratio of rice, curry, and chicken in one bite. you politely raved to bakugou’s mother about her heavenly cooking, and bakugou never looked so proud or embarrassed in his life. masaru discussed fashion with you, mitsuki occasionally chiming in and offering to show you pictures of young bakugou modelling. you courteously declined for the fear of bakugou’s face getting any redder than it was already. 

“y’know, katsuki really wanted to be a pro-hero when he was younger,” mitsuki reminisced. “he even was accepted at that really prestigious hero school, ua.”

you looked at bakugou with questioning eyes, and he shook his head dismissively, hesitant to the topic. you wondered what he was doing here, as your bodyguard, rather than the hero he aspired to be. it wasn’t like he’d be unable to become a sidekick once out of ua, so what happened…?

at the end, you seemed to have gotten the approval of mitsuki and masaru. your heart twisted in pain realizing who you were and why you were here; this was asked of you, nothing real. you pushed the thought away, returning to the dining room after washing your hands. 

“oh, my!” mitsuki exclaimed as you entered the dining room. “it’s getting late.” she turned to you. “we don’t have a guest bedroom, so you’ll have to share a room with katsuki, if that’s alright?”

you looked to bakugou, who seemed lost in his own thoughts. “sure, i don’t mind,” you replied. 

“i’m sure you’d love to see bakugou’s childhood room.” this brought bakugou abruptly to his senses; his eyes rounded, face looking like a deer caught in headlights. 

a smile tweaked your lips. “i’d love to.”

you didn’t know what you were expecting when mitsuki opened the door to bakugou’s room. certainly, though, you were not expecting this. his room was decorated from head to toe with all might merchandise, carefully collected through the years. it could’ve been worse, you admitted to yourself, but bakugou’s interest in all might surprised you. the level of admiration bakugou had for the former symbol of peace was clear, plastered on the wall posters and figurines which dotted his bookshelves. 

“of course,” misuki said, “this is all really from his middle school days. he had to move to a dormitory system in high school, and i’m afraid he didn’t take much along with him…”

you tilted your head at bakugou, who’d taken particular interest in the ground with his hand sheepishly on the back of his neck.

“it’s cute,” you reassured him gently.

“though katsuki’s bed is pretty big, we could pull out a futon if you’d like…” 

“it’s alright.” shit. why did you say that? noting the bewilderment on bakugou’s face, you added, “we are dating and all…” you mentally smacked yourself for assuming bakugou would be comfortable sleeping in the same bed as you. “yeah,” bakugou said, much to your shock.

“that settles it!” mitsuki smiled. she winked. “don’t stay up too late.”

after mitsuki and masaru bade you goodnight and closed the door behind them, you were left alone with bakugou.

“hey, is that a picture of you?” after looking around the room, your eyes fell on a framed photo sitting on bakugou’s dresser. you reached for it, recognizing a familiar spiky haired blonde boy proudly holding a trophy.

“wait-” the frame was already held in your hands.

“aw, you were such a cute kid.” you teased, “can’t say the same about now.”

he huffed, ears reddening. “there’s a photo album on the bookshelf,” he mumbled, pointing to a thick looking book on his bookshelf. you eagerly plucked it from the shelf, holding it like a precious treasure in your two hands. he shoved his hands into his pockets and rested his chin on your shoulder, watching you open the photo album. 

the first photo was a baby photo, of course, and you could feel that it was taking every part of bakugou not to rip the book from your hands and scorch it all out of embarrassment. the first few pages were those of baby bakugou, eating food with his hands or playing with his parents. as the book progressed, you watched him develop a quirk (blowing up a vase) and become interested in pro-heroes (clutching an all might doll to his chest with a big smile on his face). the photos became more scarce as bakugou grew, but he seemed to grow happier. paging through photos of him in high school, the man’s gaze seemed to grow softer and fonder. his high school pictures consisted of him either standing in front of the famous ua or making an indifferent face with a group of his friends, who looked vaguely familiar from somewhere. upon further inspection, it dawned on you. you could recognize them all - they were young versions of the pro-heroes red riot, pinky, chargebolt, and cellophane. they regularly appeared on your newsfeed for one heroic deed or another, so it came no surprise to you that they attended the famed ua high. 

as for bakugou, though? you couldn’t understand what he was doing there, or rather, here. if he graduated ua, he’d be right on track to become a pro-hero, not a bodyguard. 

bakugou already sensed your revelation, shutting the book and putting it down. sitting on the bed, he squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“i know what you’re thinking,” he stated. he took a shaky breath. “i’m- i’m not ready to talk about it.” 

“okay,” you replied. “i think… we should get some sleep. you have to drive back tomorrow.”

he snorted. “me?” 

you nodded like it was a given.

the night was long, dragging in the same manner that you’d trudge through deep snow with weights on your ankles. it wasn’t that bakugou’s old bed was uncomfortable; it was surprisingly plush. you laid awake, though, as the clock ticked by and the house went silent. you felt as stiff as a wooden board, staring at the dark ceiling and thinking about everything and nothing.

your thoughts first strayed to bakugou’s childhood, and how he’d seemed the poster child for an aspiring pro-hero. how could he have given that up? he had friends, dreams, and a path open to his aspirations. yet somehow his life had deviated into this, pretending to date you for his parents’ sake.  

it felt strange to lay in his bed in his parents’ house and not to really call him yours. not that you wanted to call him yours outside of this scenario. definitely not. it was just the guilt gnawing at you that impaired your proper judgement - your conscience felt pity. you pulled off a large lie to bakugou’s parents that you were dating when in reality, you’d never even gone on a proper date with the man; for all you knew, he could be a terrible person. he could have terrible dating manners and leave to the bathroom when the check comes in an attempt to force his date to pay. it was hard to imagine, but hey, you reasoned to yourself, it was a possibility.

“can’t sleep either?” bakugou’s deep voice startled you. you thought he’d fallen asleep hours ago.

“yeah,” you snorted. “and here i thought you were in the habit of always sleeping early,” you referenced his mother’s stories of him in middle and high school. you turned on your side to face the man.

“kinda hard with five different all mights staring at me,” he joked, gesturing to his plethora of all might-themed decorations.

you imitated all might’s larger than life voice. “i am here! … to watch you sleep!”

bakugou first snickered, which then transitioned into a full-blown, unrestrained (yet somewhat hushed) laugh. you couldn’t help but laugh too, watching his features crinkle and gummy smile widen. your heart felt peculiar in your chest, but you couldn’t figure out the feeling. in the years you’d known him, you’d never seen him so relaxed or open. you knew you’d miss moments like this in the morning, when you’d drive back and the deal would be over. it sent a bittersweet pang to your heart - why couldn’t moments like these last forever?

you woke up to find bakugou gone, leaving you alone in the bed with only a warm indentation next to you letting you know he’d just left. you rubbed your eyes groggily, sitting up and pushing the covers aside. you swung your legs over the edge of the bedside, standing up and making the bed once again. you padded out of the all might-furnished room to the kitchen, where you could hear quiet footsteps and the sizzling of a frying pan.

“someone’s finally awake,” bakugou’s husky voice remarked. he was standing at the stovetop, wearing an apron over his nightwear and frying eggs. sleep had worn his voice deeper; you swooned at the domestic sight before you. no, it wasn’t swooning, you told yourself. just… appreciation. you really wanted to make a comment on his muscles, bulging from his short-sleeved shirt.

“that looks really yummy,” you said, in no way whatsoever referencing his biceps and definitely referring to the egg in the pan.

“i’d like to pretend that was an innocent comment, but the direction your eyes are looking at beg to differ,” bakugou deadpanned. you looked away, flushed.

“so, whatcha making?” you said, plopping yourself on a chair. 

“eggs, rice, natto, miso,” he said. “but nothing for you until you change and brush your teeth.”

you stuck your tongue out at him. “who are you, my mom?” you continued, “i used to hate natto when i was younger.”

“it’s good for you,” bakugou said, moving the egg onto a plate of steaming rice.

“you sound a lot like my mom,” you replied. “but i like natto now, just not too much of it.”

“i liked natto when i was younger,” bakugou said.

“really? all of my friends hated it. they complained about the smell.” you reminisced about your childhood days, when your biggest worry was whether you had homework or not.

“speaking of smell? your breath. go brush your teeth.”

“wh- i’m so far from you, there’s no way-”

“no hygiene, no food.”

“who even says that?” but you were already out of your chair and heading towards the bathroom.

“oh, by the way,” bakugou said as you were halfway through emptying your plate with rice in your mouth, “what do you want?”

“wha?” you said, chewing the egg-natto-rice mixture in your mouth. “what?”

“the deal,” he said. “before my parents wake up.”

“the deal-?” you racked your mind for any deal you’d made in the recent days, as you weren’t much a gambler, then it hit you. the deal. in an attempt to convince you to pretend to be his date, he’d said he’d do whatever you wanted for a day in exchange. you hadn’t thought about it at all.

“um,” you said intelligently. what did you want? you wanted to spend more time with him, but there would be no way…

“take me ice skating.” he choked on his rice.

“what?”

“i really want to ice skate…” you lied. “i’ve never been.” another lie.

“you want to go ice skating with me?”

“pay for me.” you could’ve paid for yourself. “and, you have terrible dating skills. how are you supposed to get a real partner? consider this beneficial for yourself.”

he blinked, taken aback. “...okay,” he agreed, dumbfounded. you hoped he couldn’t see through you. “when?”

“today, duh.”

by the time you finished your plate, bakugou’s parents had woken up to bid the two of you farewell. hours later, you found yourself at an outdoor ice skating rink in tokyo.

the rink was decorated festively; surrounding trees had been wrapped in golden lights and there was something in the atmosphere which bustled with cheer. those skating were either children or couples, laughing and skating together. you told yourself not to pay too much attention to them, but there was something about the way they looked so happy that made you yearn for the same.

you clumsily clomped toward the entrance of the rink itself, clad in four layers of warm clothing and worn rental skates. cold air nipped at your cheeks and your breath was a snowy white before your eyes. patting your cheeks in an attempt to half hype yourself up and half warm yourself up, you tensely stepped onto the frozen water. clunk. clunk. 

“you look like an idiot,” bakugou said as you made your way onto the ice with slow clunks. he was surprisingly cocky about his skating prowess once he’d gotten his skates on, despite his lack of experience on the ice. he was unaffected by the chilly weather, wearing a thin jacket and denim jeans despite the vast majority of other skaters wearing winter coats. 

“it’s cold,” you responded. slippery ice beneath your feet, you suddenly felt a great deal less confident in your ice skating abilities. it might as well have been your first time skating, in the eyes of bakugou. you took baby steps on the ice, both hands gripping the side rails while bakugou glided breezily past you. 

“c’mon, idiot, loosen up~”

easy for him to say. “i’m- trying,” you gritted out, attempting to copy his fluid motions. 

“hey, dumbass, take my hands.” bakugou stopped in front of you, both hands outstretched for you to hold. you looked at him warily, then accepted the offer, his hands replacing the railings. 

“don’t hold them that hard,” bakugou said. “i’m not going to drop you. relax.”

you nodded, gulping as you released your death grip on his hands. starting to skate backwards (an incredible feat in your eyes), he slowly guided you along the edge of the rink. you spent most of the time staring at your own feet, trying to keep your balance and rhythm in time with bakugou’s. once you seemed to get the hang of it, he sped up ever so slightly, loosening his grip on your hands.

“just like that,” and his voice was much gentler than you’d ever heard it. you looked up to meet his soft gaze. your heart leapt and he quickly averted his eyes. “um,” he coughed awkwardly. “i think you’ve gotten the hang of it.”

“okay.” you started to let go of his hands, testing your balance skating without anything to hold onto. in small amounts at first, you start to let go, allowing your strides to become longer and longer. bakugou matched your pace beside you and eventually, the two of you fell into conversation. you’d both forgotten your own words about how this was for him to gain dating experience; it felt too real to be practice.

“the truth is, i was really, really close to becoming a pro-hero,” he confessed, “but i was injured in my third year. i had to take a break for a year or so, but by that time, i was too rusty for the job.” 

“but-” you said, almost stumbling on the ice at the revelation, “didn’t you do all that training-?”

he shrugged. “it’s the reality of it,” he said dismissively, a momentary shadow crossing his face. he recomposed. “i’m over it now.”

you had the slight suspicion that his words didn’t ring quite true, but let go of it. still, you couldn’t help but think about all of his all might decor - he must have idolized the man, only to fail at his dream. his room was like a memento to everything he wanted yet couldn’t reach. “you wouldn’t have met me if you hadn’t become a bodyguard,” you said cheerily in an attempt to distract both him and yourself.

“true,” he smiled. then, almost to himself, he added, “i don’t regret that.”

the two of you skated a couple more laps around the rink. conversation faded and your feet became more and more sore after skating for so long. a chill had settled itself onto your bones as the sky tinted in anticipation of the evening to come.

“we should get going now,” bakugou said. “before it gets too cold.”

“yeah-” your phone buzzed in your pocket. “hang on, give me a second.”

it was tanaka, telling you that you had a date scheduled by your father in two hours. it took you a moment, it really did, to remember who you were and what your priorities truly lay.

you made it a point not to tell bakugou what the call was about on the way back. you told him it was about a business deal, and he pretended to buy it. the car ride was desolate, lacking all warmth despite the heater blasting. you felt guilty; why had you lied to bakugou? you and he both knew you were lying about the business deal. was it pity? why had you felt the need to protect him?

you could only amount it to the fact that maybe bakugou was becoming a friend. maybe bakugou was becoming someone you never wanted to hurt. your thoughts were the only thing you could hear over the buzz of the car’s heater. you looked to the sky with imploring eyes as if some cloud on the lavender-tinged atmosphere listened and could provide you an answer. 

you weren’t sure if it was the clouds’ doing or some star hiding behind the sun’s light that washed a sense of solemness by the time you returned to meet tanaka at the gates. it was almost enough to make you forget the sad feeling you held whilst looking at bakugou one last time before stepping out of the car to greet your old butler. the feeling was unfathomable to you; in your daze on the ride back, there’d seemingly been no reason for such a feeling to linger in your heart. why had you felt so much guilt, so much sadness for this man you were supposed to be strictly on business relations with?

not that you’d done this, anyway. your business relationship with bakugou ended the minute you agreed to that favour he’d proposed, and was further broken when you ice skated together. you wondered if he felt the same as you, or if things would return to the way they had been after this date tonight. somewhere deep in you hoped it wouldn’t - hoped he wouldn’t forget it all. (“stay here,” you’d told him when you stepped out of the car. his stare was vacant; would he? you weren’t sure why you even asked.)

“tanaka,” you said stiffly. the air was frigid around you (when had the temperature dropped so suddenly?) and a breeze wrapped itself around your legs. an impulse told you to turn back, look at bakugou, and tell him the things you left unsaid - but you didn’t. 

“y/n,” he nodded. it was like a wake-up call. this was who you were, truly. your father’s pawn, his company’s pawn. you were a face used for business and nothing more. you traded your feelings for your father’s wealth - that’s who you were.

yet it was the past two days that made you feel more like yourself than ever before. the time spent with bakugou, of all people, made you feel genuinely happy. he made your name feel more like yours than your father’s. it seemed it was he who could only coax this feeling out of you. you, certainly, couldn’t imagine it being anyone else. there was something unlike anything you’d experienced before which bakugou gave you. but you couldn’t let your father down, could you?

“y/n, we must go now,” tanaka urged. 

you didn’t look back.

bakugou watched you leave with an inscrutable expression. as soon as you vanished from his sight, he let out a deep sigh and bashed his head on the steering wheel, then rubbed the spot of contact. that would leave a mark.

he wished he could pretend he didn’t know what your sudden meeting was about. he couldn’t. what kind of bodyguard was unaware of his client’s schedule? you were going on a date, on account of your father’s absolutely superb matchmaking skills. he wanted to strangle the bastard. 

god, he was an idiot to have gotten his hopes up about you. just like countless other things in his life, you were unattainable. he was constantly in pursuit of the impossible, it felt, yet none of his endeavours’ ends had quite felt like this. it started when he was a child with a newly developed quirk. constant words of praise fluttered around his ears, all applauding his strong quirk and natural intelligence. it continued when he entered school, winning academic and athletic awards for what everyone called his talents. (he remembered looking up the definition of “talent” in a dictionary in his elementary school’s library and being sorely disappointed. no one had seen the hours he’d dedicated to practicing and studying after school - all of that couldn’t amount to what everyone else had called natural talent.) 

in doing so - winning all those competitions - he’d somehow earned the approval of all those around him. it was never something he’d wanted or aimed for, but it soon started to fit him like a custom-tailored outfit. somewhere along the way, he started to seek out the approval of others, flaunting his accomplishments to do so. however, as years went by, one thing became apparent: the tactics used on his peers and teachers would never gain his parents’ approval. he so yearned for a tad of his parents’ praise or satisfaction; even an “i’m proud of you, katsuki,” from them would’ve sent katsuki to the stars and back. he never was quite sure, as a youth, how to gain this prize, so to speak. and so, for the sake of his parents, he became stronger and stronger and thus began his journey to attain the first impossibility in his life.

high school, at once, came knocking on his door in the midst of this endless journey. with it came izuku midoriya, the boy katsuki had bullied in middle school. this time, though, it was izuku who was stronger; katsuki had so wanted to atone for all that he’d done to the boy, but it proved something impossible. on the physical level, izuku had already forgiven him and moved on. it wasn’t enough for katsuki, who’d really done nothing to deserve izuku’s kindness. so katsuki set off, trying to truly deserve the boy’s forgiveness and make up for everything he’d done. in katsuki’s mind, there would be nothing he could do that would balance out the weight of his actions to izuku. hence unraveled the second impossibility katsuki set up for himself.

the third impossibility found itself in katsuki’s third year at ua academy. he was working for his parents’ approval and atonement for izuku; this impossibility, though, would send everything crumbling down. impossibles, unlike any math equations covered during his schooling, could not be cancelled out the more brought into the equation. it was perhaps katsuki’s only salvation and lifeline, his passion to become a hero. fate snatched this very possibility from katsuki’s hand, snapping the lifeline and dangling it just out of his reach. all of it was cruel - the sympathetic words spoken from recovery girl’s lips and the weeks katsuki had to sit out of hero training. even worse was how katsuki watch his grade drop from one of the top in the class to only passable in general studies, no longer sharp enough to qualify for a pro-hero. by the time he healed, he was rendered unable to rejoin the hero course. his goal was thrown away easily, becoming another impossibility.

katsuki trained himself physically for a new job. an acquaintance had introduced him to being a bodyguard, and katsuki figured that was close enough to being a hero. not that he particularly enjoyed the notion of waiting on someone’s every beck and call. but through and through his countless impossibilities and misfortunes, he had to move forward. he was tired, so tired - hearing his parents’ disappointed voices on the phone and looking up to see a billboard of the newest top pro-hero, deku. when he foolishly and naively got his hopes up about you, the logical part in him knew it was doomed. he knew that as he stared at you, illuminated by a golden light in your bedroom, it was ill-fated. you were a miracle opening up a new life to him - but miracles weren’t real.

of all the impossibilities in his life, you were the most painful. why was he cursed in such a way? where had the happiness in his life gone, if not with you as you walked away from him? he stared at his suit cuff, suffocated in the stupid attire. he should never have taken this job. 

a knock. another knock. three more rapid knocks, and he finally looked up to see your eager face looking at him from the passenger side window. he hastily unlocked the car door with a click.

“finally,” your exasperated voice said to him, tinged in a happy hue that he’s confused by. 

“wh-where’s tanaka?” katsuki stuttered. “your date-”

“i did it, bakugou.” you beamed at him. “i refused. i said no.”

“wha-what? you refused what?” 

“the date, duh!” you laughed. you grew quiet. “i realized something. i realized that all i want is you, and it’s… it’s about time i start taking control of my life.”

katsuki cracked a smile. a real one, not painful like so many others he’d faked before. “you’re a dumbass, you know that?” and it was endearment, bringing you close to his heart. 

maybe fate had decided to bless him. maybe it was all the impossibilities in his life that had cancelled each other out to give him you. 

“oh, and by the way,” you said, changing the topic. “i’ve been thinking a lot about it recently. we need to have a rematch for that sorry excuse of a fight we had the other day. i will have an undisputed victory over you.”

“you’re on, moron.”

it was definitely fate that brought katsuki to you.

[martini-time]

Look, I get that some of you like to see L as innocent cause you're trying to be respectful or something and cause well, she does like to show herself off as a sweet and innocent nice girl whenever she hangs with Cam, but then when you look at the way she's like with her friends and stuff, girl really comes across as someone who loves attention. And I'm sorry, but even if this is more of a rumor with a person who's supposedly L's sister's friend that she likes to date celebs and is actually rather arrogant, but honestly, I could totally imagine L being the one who hit on Cam first and asked him out cause she was trying to get with a celeb, and that really because of the way she keeps trying to profile herself in public. And because this would also explain that odd phenomenon that L keeps following Cam's friends/people he's associated with on social media and they follow her back and we end up wondering when she was ever around them. Like sure you can argue that maybe we don't see everything, but take the thing with Layla. You say they followed each other after Valentine's Day? And that they must have met and we jut didn't find out. But the thing is, we know from L's posts around that time that she was in NYC before and after V-Day for a while for work, so when exactly could she have been hanging around with Cam around Noel and Layla? I think it's more likely L saw Layla's V-Day post for Noel and tried to take adantage of it to get some connection with her going, like you know, contacting Layla over dm saying 'oh I saw your V-Day post, you seem like such a great couple, blah blah blah.', it seems like something L would do to me. I really feel this girl is trying to get a connection going with as many friends/co-workers of Cam as possible, so that in case they do ever break up, she can continue moving around in his celebrity social circle. I mean look at the fact that L reposted this post of one of Cam's friends the other day that the guy had tagged L in, the one with the photobooth, I mean you realize this particular friend of Cam's has a private Insta account, and L goes ahead and just makes this public. Clearly L felt the need to let the world know she was hanging with Cam's friend that day. Which is why I also have my doubts that the reason why Cam didn't post too many things with L on his insta or now removed most of their couple's photos cause he's trying to be private, cause this girl doesn't seem to be very respectful towards people's privacy now does she? L seems like someone who's working hard trying to profile herself through her relationship with Cam, but it's not like it has payed off too well for her yet being his gf now has it. I'm talking about the fact that yeah maybe she gained some followers because of him, but she's still well under a million followers, so maybe now she's trying to build up connections through her whatever-type-relationship-this-may-be she has with Cam in order to at least benefit from it in some other way. Like really, I think we should not underestimate this girl and her intentions that I think are anything but too pure and innocent. Some of you just don't want to see the nasty evidence and turn a blind eye towards some of L's behavior cause she's able to smile so sweetly and innocent.

I agree with most of it expect for a couple of points but thank you for your opinion and for saying that

[softsalome]

the photographer’s assistant.

Repost from my old account, @/softperfuma.

Modern AU.

“This stop is- Sinsa Station. Sinsa Station. The doors are on your left.”

Catra was the first out the train car and up the stairs, grumbling every step of the way. The faster she was off the train meant the faster she got to her meeting, which meant the faster she was out of Gangnam.

If anyone asked, she didn’t hate being there, not really. But she definitely didn’t care for all the pricey clothes and even pricier cars, and people that seemed to have never worked a day in their lives. A short train ride to the southern side of the Han river didn’t bother her. It was the air that reeked of privilege and wealth gap as soon as she left the station. Though considering she got a fine dust alert that morning, it might be the pollution as well.

She glanced at her watch as she got closer to the cafe where her meeting would be held, deciding to wander upon realizing she was nearly a half hour early. Milling about the attached boutique, she looked at a tag out of curiosity, quickly hissing at the sight of the price. Catra wasn’t exactly a broke college student, but the blazer in her hands cost more than a shopping trip and month of eating out combined. Gingerly setting it back in its place, she headed to the cafe and ordered the americano she desperately needed. It was before noon, which meant it was far too early for her to come to grips with being awake.

Sliding into her seat after grabbing her drink, she fell into a daze, looking out the window and following the lines of the makeshift bamboo forest outside the cafe. She was so out of it that it took a few moments for her to notice the hand waving on the other side of the glass, and she sat up with a jolt as the hand - and its owner - headed inside to greet her.

“Hi, Catra! It’s nice to finally meet you!”

She didn’t need him to take his mask off to know he was grinning from ear to ear, settling into the seat across from her with a huff as he finally peeled the thing off his face.

“You too, Bow,” she replied calmly, her eyes following the camera he placed on the table between them. “Busy day?” she asked innocently, her head nodding to the side as she wondered who her competition for top priority may be.

While Bow Arcas was new to the city, he definitely wasn’t new to photography. Mostly doing hobby and occasional freelance work, his portfolio was three years and dozens of models long. Catra couldn't believe it when he reached out to her first, and even had one of her roommates look over her phone to make sure it wasn’t broken. (The phone was fine, but when she got it back it had a VPN that was set to a server in Milan. She didn’t ask.) And as aloof as Catra always appeared to be, she was afraid of having to fight tooth and nail to work with one of the best photographers in the city. Between her college classes and finally beginning to accept brand deals, she didn’t have much energy for anything else. She doesn’t remember how she did it before her social media accounts started to pay the bills; it was just one long blur of anxiety and scholarship applications.

He smiled again, toying with his cased camera as he answered. “Not really. Just some test shots this morning with my roommates. I usually do fashion and event stuff, but lately I’ve been wanting to delve into candid photography.”

“Ah, gotcha,” she answered, immediately relaxing in her seat. She looked on as Bow took the camera out of its case, pressing a few buttons before handing it to her from across the table.  

“If you want you can look at them while I order. Here, these buttons will take you back and forth through the photo reel.”

Before Catra could protest, Bow was up and on his way to the counter, leaving her to flip through the photos.

The first couple were fuzzy and silly: a shot of Bow in the mirror, both hands holding the camera in front of his face as the strap dangled in front of his pajama-clad body. Following that was a woman, presumably his roommate, flipping him off from the hallway. Her hoodie was pulled tight and obscured her face, but Catra could still make out long tufts of purple and pink hair. Then there were more closeups; light streaming through someone’s fingers, the manicured nails recognizable from a few photos before. A collection of feet crossing the living room floor, the shutter speed slowed so the feet seemed to move in slow motion. The girl with pink hair came into view again, her hoodie pulled back enough to reveal a soft, round face and short eyebrows. Her head was thrown back in a laugh as she walked, her body frozen in time mid-stride towards the kitchen.

And then she appeared. And she was beautiful. Of-fucking-course she was beautiful.

The change in angle meant a change in lighting, and Bow definitely took advantage, taking the shots from a lower height for the next dozen or so photos. She was broad shouldered and blond, her hair grazing the middle of her back before a few stills caught her sweeping it up into a ponytail. The muscles in her arms were taut as she fixed her hair, only outlined by the steam rising from the kettle behind her. The next still took Catra by surprise, the mystery woman staring directly into the camera. Her eyes were a piercing, stormy blue, and Catra felt like she was looking right through her. The next few shots cut a little deeper, with the woman smiling instead, standing in the same position as she fiddled with the heart shaped pendant that hung just above her sports bra.  

Catra flipped back to the beginning as Bow walked back, trying not to linger on the blond.

“What’d you think?” he asked, taking a sip from his sweet looking latte.

“They look good as hell, dude.” Catra replied, sipping on her drink and hoping she wasn’t absolutely transparent.

“Thanks! I was thinking I could try a few candid shots with you too; I feel like it fits the current aesthetic you’re going for, especially on Instagram.”

Catra nodded, thankful to any and every god that Bow did his research. Now she didn’t have to whip out her Pinterest board and subsequently feel very weird about it.

“So, what do you have in mind?”

They talked for over an hour after that, discussing everything from the photos Catra would want, compensation, and editing preferences. Bow offered to do a primer shoot first, and Catra was glad to see how well they could work together before she had to start burning holes in her pockets. Bow’s prices weren’t nearly as steep as Catra would’ve thought, but with rent on her heels and her brand work just getting started, she could really use a free session. They agreed to a time and place the following weekend, and Catra saved Bow’s number into her phone as he started texting rapidly and organizing his things. Bow mentioned that he might have one of his friends help with the shoot, which Catra agreed to with a quick wave of her hand. The more that Bow can focus on the photos the better.

“You heading out?” she asked, stirring the melting ice in her glass.

“Almost,” Bow answered. “My friends are going to meet me here so we can walk home together.” Catra fiddled with her hair, hiding her ears in the curls in case they started to redden.

“If you’re good to stay a little longer, Catra, you can meet them.”

“No it’s alright,” she said a bit too quickly, packing the last of her things in her purse. “I have some errands to run and I live in Hongdae, so..”

“Oh yeah, of course! Sorry I assumed you live closer; I live around here so I just-”

“You live here? In Sinsa?” Catra asked as she stood, leaning on the seat with one knee as she waited for an answer. “You got money like that, Bow?”

He laughed hard at that, causing a few patrons to turn to see what the commotion was. One glance at Catra and they were satisfied, quickly turning back to their own business.

“Not really,” he said, as he wiped a tear from his eye. “Just lucky. And I have some good friends.”

She nodded in response, pushing her chair in to leave after they both bid their goodbyes. Walking towards the exit, Catra was already thinking about how the photoshoot the following weekend would go, and if she could ever handle meeting Bow’s friends.

But unfortunately, the universe didn’t much care about what she could handle. She was looking at the ground as she walked towards the exit, so she didn’t see the face of the person that opened the door for her, opting to softly say her thanks in Korean and stride past. She then got a nose full of wisteria and an English reply.

“Of course… Catra?”

She quickly looked up at the sound of her name, hoping it wasn’t a stranger. She wasn’t against her followers approaching her on the street, but she’d be lying if it was anything short of draining. But with the way her heart dropped to her stomach, she might’ve preferred a fresh face.

It was her. Adora. That’s what Bow said her name was. And she smelled like wisteria. And she was beautiful. Of-fucking-course she was beautiful.

And just as any other sane person would’ve reacted, Catra’s mind went completely blank.

“Hi,” she said, nodding vaguely to Adora and the cotton candy girl from the hallway photos. Then she just… turned. Turned and kept walking. She was sure she heard someone pipe up to speak behind her, but she ignored it, turning the corner and not looking back once, eyes fixed ahead and searching for the nearest station entrance.

She slumped into the train seat with a huff, the seat next to her as empty as it often was. Catra never felt hurt by the fact that people tended to be too intimidated to sit next to her, and was actually a little thankful for it now, as she opened Bow’s account and started to scroll through his feed looking for a familiar face.

After 30 minutes and a train transfer later, she finally found it: a selfie of Bow and the cotton candy girl, Shimmer, she thinks, and a bit of blond hair at the edges of the photo. Tapping on the screen, she captured the missing piece, a tag that would lead her directly to the page. ‘et.adora’, the tag read, and she cursed under her breath when it led to a locked account. She squinted at the abstract display photo as she stepped off the train again.

“Why the fuck do locals always lock their shit? They don’t have anything to hide!”

By the time she reached the exit, she had given up on what felt a lot like cyberstalking, ready to stuff her phone in her pocket and focus on the music thrumming in her ears as she walked home. But her phone buzzed in her hand before she was able to, the emojis quickly filling her screen.

Bow: It was nice meeting you, Catra! I’ll see you next week! Adora and I will be at exit 5

Adora and I will be at exit 5.

Catra stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, her head rolling to the side as people walked around her, ignorant to her sudden distress.

“Fuck.”

Next week was going to be interesting.

[allisonxmoynihan]

she’s mine ~ t. zegras

Request: I have a request for tz, you and him have been keeping your relationship private and you go to the beach with all the BU boys, and Trevor gets jealous bc all the boys are seeing you in a bikini 

Word Count: 1745

Note: This was also posted on my old account, and I promise this is the last of the reposts before I start working on new stuff! Let me know if you have any requests!

“babe, come on, we don’t want to be late,” trevor yells from outside your dorm room door. You were going out with him and some of the BU boys to the beach to enjoy the sudden warm weather that you’ve been deprived of after a long and cold boston winter.

“trevor, hold on,” you shout back as you tie your bikini top around your neck. you look in your mirror and do a quick turn in your swimsuit making sure you looked okay. it wasn’t that you wanted to impress anyone, but you also didn’t want to look like a fool, especially since you were a little nervous being one of the only girls going today. You grab a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and throw it on over your swimsuit as you slide on your flip flops. 

you and trev find yourselves walking down commonwealth avenue as you head towards the beach, and he’s telling you all about this crazy story.

“Yeah, and then she was like ‘well don’t call the cops,’ and i was like, ‘what and let him die?’ anyway, yesterday after practice dom and i got pizza and i gotta take you to the place…”

you laugh slightly shaking your head.

“What, is there something on my face, because you know i didn’t wash it after i ate and i had some chocolate pancakes today, we should get them some time.”

“Trev, slow down, okay? I’m still confused about the police story? Was that real? you jump around from story to story so fast, it’s hard to keep up,”

Trevor frowns looking down at you, “so, anyway, those pancakes were really good, Wendy at the good dining hall made them for us.”

You smile shaking your head at your boyfriend of the last eight months, you were totally and completely head over heels over him and his endless, goofy antics. 

Trevor grabs your hand, interlacing his fingers in yours. 

“Trev,” you start, “we’re in public, we shouldn’t, i mean what if someone sees?”

Trevor shrugs, “so they see? No one important is around right now anyway. The boys are already at the beach.”

You force a smile so he knows everything is okay. And it was, you wouldn’t ask for any other guy in the world because trevor treated you amazingly and you knew he was the one you wanted to grow old with. But you couldn’t lie about the rock that formed in the pit of your stomach every time you and him were out in public. you hated keeping your relationship a secret from every single person in your lives, but you knew it was probably for the better. If something did happen between you two you didn’t want his fans and hockey world coming after you or thinking he was some sort of destructive monster. 

Trevor drops your hand the minute you turn the corner and the beach is in eyesight, “i’m going to walk a little ahead since, well you know,” he says, offering a shy, boyish smile at you before he walks ahead. 

you wave to his back and slow down your pace. you knew he didn’t mean to hurt you by doing things like this every time you guys were going out with the boys, but it always stung. If you were being honest you were getting sick of keeping the relationship secret, especially when he would openly flirt with other girls in front of you, earning him some cheers and a couple of words of encouragement from his teammates. 

you finally reach the beach to see the boys gathered in a game of beach volleyball.

“y/n! You’re here,” Alex Vlasic, probably your closest friend on the team besides trevor, exclaims.

you nod as the boys quickly turn their interest back to the game in front of them. 

Payton, alex’s girlfriend comes up to you, “Hey, girly! Did you get my text about smoothies tomorrow morning?”

you nod as you slide your shorts off, “yeah, i’m totally down, i’ve been wanting to try the new place anyway.”

Payton smiles as she lays out two towels for the two of you to lay on while you tan, “i know, right? I’m so happy they’re finally putting a smoothie bar in the sea of coffee shops that they call boston.”

you laugh, taking off your shirt and laying down on your towel. “I know, coffee does get old after awhile,”

Payton starts talking to you about her movie night with vlasic last night, and how he tried making cookies for her, and you smile at her excitement and how in love she is with him.

“Zegras, what the fuck man?” Farrance shouts.

“Come on, Z, that was an easy hit!” Ethan whines, as Dom, Cam Crotty, and Vlasic snicker. 

“Maybe you should take your eyes off of the girls and pay attention so you don’t get hit again,” Dom remarks towards his roommate. 

“Yeah, yeah,” trevor says, finally peeling his eyes off of you and kicking the volleyball back over to Crotty. 

“Damn, y/n’s got a nice body, we should invite her to the beach more often,” Ethan jokes, glancing at trevor to see his reaction. It was a shared suspicion on the team that you and trevor were a thing, or at least had feelings towards each other.

Trevor’s jaw clenches as he sends an icy glare at ehtan, “shut the hell up.”

“Awe, Z, are we talking about y/n inappropriately?” Farrance ridicules.

Trevor’s eyes find their way back to you, laying on the towel as you laugh with payton. His eyes flick up and down your body as a smirk erupts on his face, “whatever,” he grumbles, his voice stern and cold.

~*~

you and payton had decided to build a sand castle after the picnic lunch Crotty had packed for everyone. 

“Hey, why does trev look so pissed off?” she asks?

you look up to find him with an emotionless face staring at you with a tight jaw. you also don’t miss the other five boys staring at you and payton in your swimsuits.

you shrug, “ummm, i am not sure. Probably lost some bet the boys had going on,” you cover up, knowing that the real reason is the boys were clearly looking you girls up and down and enjoying every second of it.

Payton squeals, “nooo, a wave is coming!” the two of you giggle as you scramble to try and block the wave from destroying your sand castle. you two topple over laughing at your failed attempt at saving your creation.

Vlasic walks on over, snaking his arms around payton’s, “can i take her away for just a moment?” he asks before leading her down the shoreline, the two of them hand in hand. 

you smile softly over at them before walking back to your towel and sitting down, not really sure what else to do. you grab a textbook out of your bag that you brought with and decide to get caught up on your sociology reading.

Out of your peripheral vision you see someone sit down next to you on payton’s blanket. you look up and find trevor looking at you with a goofy grin adorned on his face.

“Nerd,” he laughs out at you, closing your textbook and throwing it on the towel in front of you.

“Trevor! I’m behind on reading and need to finish the chapter,”

He shakes his head, smiling down at you as he pushes himself up and extends his hand out to you.

Your eyes go wide, “what are you doing?” you ask, looking around you to see where the boys were at. Trevor huffs in annoyance, so you place your hand in his so he can pull you up to your feet. He walks with you by his side down to the water, him bumping his shoulder playfully into yours causing you to smile at the gesture. 

“Just want to spend some time with my girl” he smiles, wading into the water with you.

you feel a blush creep onto your cheeks, “trev, they can see,” you start.

“Shh, let’s just forget about them, okay?” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to his body. you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. It wasn’t often trevor showed his emotions towards you and was all cutesy and romantic in public, so you were going to enjoy the moment while it lasted.

“The boys kept making comments about you being hot and all that and i think it’s time they know who you belong to,” he pouted, causing you to laugh.

“Oh, do you now?” you smirk back at him, a grin blossoming on his face.

“You’re mine and i’m sick of the guys always expressing how attractive you are and how they should make a move. I’m sick of sharing you with every single fucking guy in boston. You’re mine and i’m not sharing anymore”

you press your lips gently to his and he lets out a small moan, you pull back raising an eyebrow at him. you were beyond happy that you didn’t have to keep your relationship on the down low anymore.

“I love you so fucking much baby,” he says leaning his forehead against yours, just holding you close to his body, not wanting to let go. 

you smile, lightly pecking his lips, “i love you too trev,”

“Get a room!” you hear some of the guys shout as the others make exaggerated gagging noises at you and trevor. The two of you laugh at his teammates as trevor puts you down and walks you back up to your towel, which he happily wraps you up in. 

“Hey Z, how long has this been going on?” Farrance asks as he points between the two of you.

Trevor looks down at you smirking, “about eight months.”

you can’t help but laugh at the boys as their jaws all drop open, “oh wow,” is all they can muster up to say.

Trevor leans down and whispers in your ear, “how about me and you go to froyoworld tonight?”

you smile up at him, “i’d very much like that trev, but i’m not paying this time.”

He groans, “of course you aren’t” but he can’t help the inevitable grin that’s plastered to his face because he wouldn’t give you up or the moments, the good and the bad, you share together for the world.

[vulnerabledime]

Another Rainy Day

This is just a repost because I had deleted my old account and I’m scared that I’ll never find this again. Plus, I’m working on creating a masterlist of all of my works and stuff, so this way it will be easier to find everything. So re-enjoy this story! Also, this one comes with a faceclaim for Amena as well. I didn’t realise she didn’t have one before. 

Prompt: You both reach for the last umbrella in the store on a rainy day.

Word Count: 1,561

Characters: Bobby X Amena

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“Man. I really should have bought a jacket,” Amena complained to herself. She stood inside, watching the rain pour down from above, soaking the streets and people that walked by. Amena bit her lip as she cursed herself. Why didn’t she listen to her conscious earlier before she left her house? She should have known better than to trust that lying, no good, weatherman anyway. His inaccurate weather reports were starting to get annoying, and now poor Amena was paying the cost.

“I could always order a taxi,” Amena offered her choice and frowned when she realized she wouldn’t be able to afford it. Amena was in the process of trying to save for a better apartment within the new year, and spending money on a taxi could get expensive. Amena sighed, realizing she had no choice other than to walk. But did she want to walk in that? Amena sighed, biting her lip and looking around her colleagues work stations. Not a jacket or umbrella-

“An umbrella!” Amena smiled to herself when she remembered the corner store just two buildings away. She could just quickly walk to the corner store and purchase an umbrella and then walk home. Problem solved. So, with that final decision made, Amena promptly opened the doors and rushed down the street, leaving work behind.

“Ahh!” Amena yelped as the cold and harsh rain beat itself against her head and skin. As she ran, Amena groaned as she tried to avoid large puddles without bumping into random people.

Amena rushed into the small shopping center, grateful that she could escape the harsh rain outside. Amena felt a shiver rise through her body as she felt the cold air inside. Amena dried her hands off her damp pants before rubbing her arms, trying to gather some warmth, before making her way down the random aisles.

“If I were an umbrella, where would I be?” Amena asked herself. She was now in the medicine aisle and gasped as he passed a mirror. Her hair that she spent two hours straightening with flat iron last night was now wet and curled back to its natural form. Don’t get Amena wrong, she loved her natural curls, but now she felt as if her time was wasted on getting her hair to that silky smooth straight that she liked to pin in different styles. I guess she’d have to do a quick wash and maybe Flexi-wand her hair for tomorrow. Shrugging, Amena walked away from the mirror and smiled when her eyes set on the basket of umbrellas ahead of her. Luckily, for her, she was about to grab the last one.

Amena was just about to place her hand on the large black handle when another hand grabbed it at the same time. Amena and the stranger both jumped back startled off each other.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Amena sheepishly smiled at the man across from her.

“No, my bad.” The stranger replied, smiling at her. Amena didn’t mean, and she didn’t want to, but she couldn’t help but notice how handsome this man was. Amena was never a fan of dreads, but for this stranger, Amena wondered why she was ever against them. He complimented them so well that Amena wanted to run her fingers through them. She wasn’t sure what she appreciated most from his brown skin, but it was either the cute small freckles surrounding his nose and face or his hazel-brown eyes that shined when he smiled at her. Oops. She was still staring at him. Amena felt her cheeks warm underneath her skin.

“I’m glad I got your attention,” The stranger teased.“ I was saying that you could have the umbrella.”

“Oh! Thank you, but if you really-” Amena started to say but was interrupted by the handsome stranger in front of her.

“Nonsense. There is no way I could let a girl as cute as you get all drenched from the rain.” Amena felt small butterflies in her belly. He thought she was cute? Amena looked down as he guided the umbrella to her hands.

“Oh. Well, thank you.” Amena thanked him as she took the umbrella from his hands.

“No problem. Anyway, see you around.” Amena watched the handsome boy walk away in wonder. Amena wondered where he came from. She’s never seen him around before. And he openly admitted that she was cute! Amena facepalmed herself. She should’ve tried to start some conversation with him, but instead, she let the awkwardness get the best of her. Oh well, another one bites the dust.

Amena paid for her new umbrella and sighed in relief as she exited the store. Hearing the rain padding on the top of the umbrella was annoying, but at least the rain wasn’t beating on her any longer. She took a couple of steps to her right when she stopped walking. Standing, a couple of feet ahead of her, was the man from the store. He was standing underneath a balcony as he stared at the sky. It looked like to her he was waiting for the rain.

Amena bit her lip. She now felt terrible. Even though he handed her this handy device, she didn’t like that he now had to wait for the rain. It just didn’t sit right in her stomach. Her mother always taught her to be kind to those in need, and it seemed like this cute stranger needed her help. Plus, he was just too cute to stand in the rain. A plan formed its way in Amenas mind. Maybe, she could make up for her lack of conversation earlier. Taking a deep breath, Amena walked over to him.

Upon hearing her steps, Amenas heart skipped a beat when his head turned her way. That same kind and a flirtatious smile appeared on his lips as he watched her approach.

“Hello,” Amena greeted with a small smile. “I’m Amena.”

“Hello,” he replied. Amena didn’t hear it before, but she caught his Scottish accent this time. “I’m Bobby.”

“Thank you again for letting me have the umbrella,” Amena mentioned.

“Don’t even mention it. It was no big deal.” he shrugged.

“Well, I would like to return the favor,” Amena told him. Amena watched Bobby raise his eyebrows as a frown replaced his smile.

“How?” He questioned. Amena looked at the sky. It didn’t look like the rain would stop anytime soon. Bobby would be standing underneath this balcony for a while. But maybe he didn’t have to.

“Well, I now have an umbrella, thanks to you. I could always walk you home.” Amena offered while gazing back at him. Amena could see the end if lips twitch.

“That’s very kind, but you don’t have to do that.” Bobby declined. Amena felt a piece of her courage dissolve.

“Are you sure? I don’t think the rain will stop anytime soon.” Amena bit her lip, hoping he would say yes.

“That’s alright, but you don’t have to walk to me.” He declined once again. There it was. Rejection. I guess he didn’t think she was that cute after all.

“Alright, stay dry.” Amena gave him a smile before passing him to walk off. Amena wanted to scream once she was a couple of feet away. She thought asking him to walk with her would be her redemption, but she failed. Well, that’s the last time she goes and makes the-

“Amena, wait up!” Amena stopped walking and turned to find Bobby running after her. What is he doing? Amena let him stand underneath her umbrella with her.

“What’s up?” Amena asked. Amena noticed that he looked nervous and uncomfortable. Whatever he was about to say was hard for him.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to walk me home, because I do, it’s just that I was hoping to um-.” Bobby cleared his throat.“-to walk you home instead. Maybe that would’ve worked out better if I bought the umbrella instead, but then I’d look like an asshole, and I don’t want to look like that type of person to you.” He finished releasing a breath. Amena felt the same small little butterflies from earlier reappear in the pit of her belly.

“You want to walk me home?” Amena asked out loud.

“Yeah, but only if you’re okay with that! It seems like we are headed in the same direction as well.” Bobby gave her a nervous smile, which made Amena feel better. He was shy around her too.

“Okay.” Amena accepted his offer, and Bobby returned her smile.

“Awesome! Let’s go!” Bobby said, taking hold of the umbrella. It turns out Bobby just moved into the same apartment complex as she is. Bobby lived a could of buildings behind her, so they were close. Bobby walked Amena to her front door, but not leaving without giving Amena his number.

The next morning Amena just finished making her morning coffee when she heard the annoying platter of rain on her window. Groaning, Amena was prepared to hunt for a jacket, when a text beeped on her phone.

Bobby:

Another Rainy Day! I got the umbrella handy! Pick you up in 5?

Amena smiled, quicky replying to Bobby. It looks like she wouldn’t need a jacket after all.Amena smiled, quicky replying to Bobby. It looks like she wouldn’t need a jacket after all.

Amena Faceclaim: 

[stories2you]

Stand up and Smile

It’s been about a week or two since my very first NCT fic? Well, guess what? i’m writing this right after I found out what’s going on with Jaemin.  I did watch the performance of both Ridin’ and Quiet Down. I noticed Jaemin wasn’t himself. But I’m not that kind of person who judges that quick just by his mistakes. I assumed that he was tired. I mean, I can’t relate since I’m not an idol or anything. Imagine having to perform the same songs over and over everyday during the promotions, of course all of them will be tired.

However, I was very shocked when I saw the posts regarding knetz and some “fans” said about Jaemin. About him dating his co-actress? And apparently, according to this one person who started this false rumors, said that the girl shared his Netflix account? And they had matching accessories? Uhm… So now there’s a new trend to point out that idols/artists are dating by sharing their Netflix account? And those matching accessories are apparently the UNICEF accessories if I recalled right. Do correct me if I’m mistaken. 

Okay, I’m getting ahead of this a bit too much. In this scenario, reader is Jaemin’s younger sister.

You were on your way home from book shopping when your phone started ringing. You answered the phone right away, “Hello?” 

“(Y/N)? Are you free?” It was Jeno. He doesn’t sound like himself. You felt something wasn’t right and asked without hesitation, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Jeno sighed and said, “Have you read the recent articles? It’s about Jaemin.” 

You knew he would call you about that. You had just read about those false articles about your dear brother, “I did. Don’t worry, I’ll come to you now. Are you at the dorm?” 

“Yeah, I’ll leave the door unlock.” 

You quickly rushed to the Dreamies’ dorm. As soon as you reached their dorm, you opened the door and saw Chenle and Jisung outside. They had a gloomy look. When they saw you enter, they stood up and went towards you. 

“Where’s my brother?” You asked. Jisung pointed to his room, “He’s in there with the hyungs.” 

You nodded and went into Jaemin’s room. You saw him leaning on the bed head with his knees to his chest. Renjun, Jeno and Hyuck was comforting him. Renjun looked up and saw you by the door. He ushered the two out. Before they left, Jeno placed a hand on your shoulder and whispered to you, “He’s really down. Please raise his mood up.”

You nodded and went to your brother. You placed your bag of books on the bed. You crawled beside him, “Oppa? I’m here. You can let it out.” 

Jaemin looked up. His eyes and cheeks were puffy from crying. You wiped his tears with your palms and placed a kiss on his forehead. You then pulled him into your arms. An arm wrapping around his head and your other hand patting his back gently. 

“(Y/N)-ah.. Did I not do well enough? Must I leave? Am I worth enough to do this…? Why–” You cut his sentences off, 

“You idiot! Stop it! And yes, oppa. You did well. In my eyes, in our parents’ eyes, in your members’ eyes, you did very well. Small mistakes does not make you worthless, oppa.” You raised your voice at him. 

Before he could retort back, you cupped his face in your smaller hands, “Oppa, I know that I don’t understand what you’re going through. I’m just a book lover who’s full of imaginations. But what I want you to know and remember, 

You’re imperfect. You make mistakes. But that’s okay. Everyone does. You can never impress others fully, and that makes you a human. Those so-called “fans” can hate and spread false rumors about you. But you know yourself best. You clearly know that out of all those haters, you have more fans that love you and appreciate your efforts. You also have us, your family. We’re always here to support you.” 

Jaemin was stunned when you blurted those words to him. His once cry baby and shy little sister. He could see how much you’ve grown into a mature young lady. You sighed and continued with a warm smile, “Oppa, stand up and smile. Czennies and I.. All of us, we love your smile. Your smile brings happiness. You don’t have to force yourself to always be happy. Your members are around to comfort you. I’m here too. Please believe me when I say that you did well. You really did, dear big brother.”

The boy continued staring at you. You giggled at his shocked face and hugged him as tight as you could. You rest your cheek on his dyed blue hair. His ear rested on your chest, listening to your gentle heartbeat. You heard him let out a small chuckle and wrapped his strong arms around your waist.

“Thank you, (Y/N)-ah. I’m sorry for making you worry. I’ll stand up and walk forward. I’ll smile more. For you, for everyone.” 

“And for yourself, oppa.” You released him from your arms. Jaemin had his usual bright smile on his face. He placed a hand on your head and caressed your hair. You wiped his dried tears with your hands again and squished his cheeks, 

“There’s the smile I love~ Come on, let’s go and see your members. They’re worried about you.” You pulled him with you.

When you both left the room, the other boys rushed to their beloved Nana. Jaemin had his smile plastered on his handsome face. The boys were glad that he’s okay. 

“Thanks for being there for me guys. Sorry for making you worry.” 

Jeno wrapped an arm around his best friend’s shoulder, “As long as you’re okay, bro. We’re here for you. Don’t worry, we’ll make those antis look down in shame with our efforts.” 

The rest nodded their heads in agreement. You smiled at their bonding. After they released Jaemin from their group hug, the boy glomped on you. His clingy brother mode is back on. A few moments later, he eyed his members, 

“Who called my sister here anyway? How did you get her number? (Y/N)-ah, are dating any one of them?” He spits out his questions. 

The other boys eyed and pointed at Jeno. The black haired boy looked away. Jaemin had his judging look, “Jeno… What did I tell you…?” 

“T-to… stay away from… your sister…?” He gulped. 

You felt Jaemin’s grip on you tighten, he had his killer smile and said a little bit too happily, “Well… I forgive you this time, Jeno. Next time…. If any one of you try anything to get my sister, you’ll know.” 

You sighed and patted your brother’s shoulder, “Don’t worry oppa. I’m not dating any one. Even them.” 

Jaemin cuddled you in his arms and carried you to the dining area. He placed you on the chair, “So… food?” 

Cue rest of the boys rushing to their seats. 

When dinner was served, the boys started to make jokes and you even joined them occasionally. You stared at your smiling brother, you couldn’t help but smile as well when he laughed at Donghyuck’s jokes. 

After dinner, Renjun and Chenle cleared the table and did the dishes. You were preparing to go back home, before you left, Jaemin stopped you. 

“Wait, I’ll walk you home. It’s dark outside.” 

The both of you walked together hand in hand. The two of you had moments of teasing and joking around. When you arrived outside your apartment, Jaemin’s hand tighten in yours. You looked up to your brother, “Is there anything else you need?” 

Jaemin nodded, “Yeah…”

“What is it?” 

“Can I stay for awhile and play with Coco?” He asked cutely while blinking his eyes. You giggled and let him in to play with your fluffy white cat. 

Well… That’s it. I did my best. But please, just don’t hate on someone who made a small mistake. It may be fatal for a live performance, but idols are not robots. They’re humans. Whatever or whoever Jaemin, or any other idols, are doing or dating, please don’t just straight away bash them. It’s not wrong to criticize, but its very wrong to just assume false things about them. 

Putting that aside, let’s send Jaemin and the rest of NCT supportive comments and appreciate their hard work. 

**Reposted from: @mayuarts​

[roseelise]

Always on my mind // S. Stilinski

Reposting all my writings from @r0s3mm​, my main blog, it is not stolen or plagiarized. All my works on my masterlist are main unless stated otherwise.

Hello! Welcome to 2-h, the back up account of @r0s3mm, I’ll be posting my works on here too until (hopefully) my blog gets restored and if not this will become my main blog.

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader

Word Count: 1477

Author’s note/warnings: events of Stiles’ disparition in season 6, sadness, language maybe ?

Come say “Hi!” Wattpad

Masterlist

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

I take a look around the dusty and empty room, my eyes searching Mr. Stilinski’s face for any sign that he remembers him. That he remembers his son. My eyes catch, in the corner of the room, a chair with a piece of clothe on it. It’s a burgundy jersey of BHHS’s very own Lacrosse team. The number twenty-four is marked on the front.

My shakings hand reaches for it and when I touch it, a shaky breath escape my lips. Tears on the corners of my eyes, I pull the jersey to my face. I inhale the scent that comes with it. It smells like home. I let my head fall back before I turn to Noah, who looks at me like I’ve gone mad. I hold it against me.

“You- you don’t see it ?” “What I see, is a slightly deranged young woman.” “I think it’s because you’re afraid.” “Of what ?” “Of what it means for you to have a son.” I said tossing the piece of clothing in his direction.

Last second, he catches it and look at me with a pained expression.

“That’s your son’s”

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

We were all sitting in Scott’s dining room. Waiting for something that I feel would never come. Suddenly, the door opens, Noah coming in.

“ I have a son. His name is Mieczyslaw Stilinski, but we call him Stiles. I remember. When Stiles was a little kid, he couldn’t say his first name. I’m not sure why, it pretty much rolls off the tongue, but the closest he could was mischief. His mother called him that until…I remember when Stiles first got his jeep. It belonged to his mother. She wanted him to have it. The first time he took a spin behind the wheel, he went straight into a ditch. I gave him his first roll of duct tape that day. He was always getting into trouble, but he always had a good heart, always. We’re here tonight because my goofball son because he decided to drag Scott, his greatest friend in the world, into the woods to see a dead body.” He finishes looking at Scott, then me and Lydia.

“I remember,” The emotions are too much for some of us, tears slipping out of Lyds’ and I eyes.

I bite down my bottom lip, a small sob trying to escape.

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

I could see in his eyes, through the glass, all the emotions and the memories he seems to remember.

“Scott, try to remember. Anything.” I say, throat shut tight. “At the start of the year, Stiles was trying to find a place for you guys to live after graduation. He said you were getting an apartment together? And I remember saying something to Stiles, something like, ‘it’s not always a good idea to live with your friend, even your best friend.’ Stiles said it wouldn’t matter because you guys weren’t just friends, you guys were more like brothers.” Malia added trying to catch Scott’s attention.

Suddenly, his eyes opens wide and are filling with water.

“What is happening to him ?” I ask to Malia “I don’t know … Where’s Lydia ?” “I don’t know she’s suppose to be back.”

When I look back at my male friend, he has his hands over his head and he seems like he is struggling or fighting something.

“Scott, Scott, listen to me. I think, I think you have to focus on a feeling, good or bad. Try to focus scott!” I say gently.

Malia seems so concern about him.

When we start to hear coughs and hard breathing, we look up to see Scott, his eyes glowing red and his hands are on the glass.

“We gotta get him out of there.” Malia say.

We quickly get him out and immediately his body fall to the ground, but thanks to Malia, he don’t hit it.

“What happened ?” I ask once he starts to wake up. “It was too much. I couldn’t … I can’t do it” “What ! Why ? Scott what did you see ?” Malia asks him. “I saw Stiles, I saw him when we were ten, when we were fifteen and I saw him last christmas …”

My heart clenches when I see all the emotions in his eyes. Malia’s tearing up a bit.

“You need a connection, an emotional connection !” Lydia says when she enters the room. “It’s all about connection? Then Stiles was the first person I connected to in a long time.” Malia adds looking at Scott. “It’s all about a connection, yes but, when I was remembering Stiles, I was also remembering the two of you together.” Scott says looking at me. “What do you mean together ?” I frown as I look around the room. My eyes falling on Malia.

“I think he meant that you and Stiles had something …” She says as she let her head down. “No. I- We were just friends.” “Don’t lie (Y\N) even with all the shit with Theo, it’s always been you and Stiles.” Malia says.

******************* “We all tried something, (y\n), it’s your turn now.” Lydia says a hand on my shoulder. “I can’t, I can’t do it. I’ve got no super abilities.” “Maybe, but you and Stiles have history. A lot of it.” “Yeah, remember all of those moments where you and Stiles were there for each other.”

Remember …

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

“STILES ! STILES STOP !” I screamed as he ran out of the school.

He turned around, face destroyed by the tear.

“Hey Stiles, hey what’s up ?” I asked my eyes searching his. “You … you actually know who I am ?” “Of course, Stiles. What is happening ?” “I’m not sure. My dad, Scott, Liam … They all have forgotten me.” “What ?!” “The Ghost Riders … They’re here for me. They’ll take me.”

“Where are they Stiles ?” I asked the scared boy. “Right ahead. Come with me and run.” He said taking my head.

He took me hand, intertwined our fingers and we started to run to his Jeep. When we got in he immediately locked the doors and tried to start the car. It didn’t work. I looked over at Stiles, his gorgeous amber eyes were starting to be filled with tears.

“(y\n) listen to me.” He took my hands in his. “They’ll take me and you’ll forget me o-” “I won’t. Stiles I won’t” I said crying. “(y\n), you will forget me. But I want you to try and remember. Remember how our moms made us wear matching outfit when we were 8, remember how in freshman year we went to that dance together, don’t forget how we do so well together and that no matter what I’ll- (y\n) please remember that I love you.”

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

I look up at Lydia, Malia and Scott, tears pooling in my eyes.

“What, what is it ?” “I- I was with him.” I say my voice breaking. “When ?” Lydia asks me. “When they took him. Stiles, I was the last one to see him.” I say my hands shaking.

After a few minutes we felt trembling. The lights were flickering and dust was falling from the ceiling.

“What’s happening ?” Malia asks.

I run to the large door and open it.

“Stiles ?! Stiles can you hear me ?” “He’s not there …” Scott says grabbing my shoulders “I can, I can feel him. He’s close.”

When everything calmed down my friends were looking me with a puzzled expression.

“He was here. I’ve gotta go look for him.” I say standing up and leaving the bunker.

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

Malia, Lydia and I were in the school’s library trying to wake up Peter, then the Gost Riders were there but since I am the only one without supernatural abilities they told me to leave and I went to hide in the boys’ locker room.

I was on the floor trying to calm down my breathing when the door opened and a Ghost Rider came in, a gun pointing to someone’s head.

Stiles.

I was hidden behind some lockers, the ghost rider’s back was facing me.

“Go ahead, shoot.” Stiles said closing his eyes.

It broke my heart seeing him like this. I took the gun Scott stole from one of the rider.

“SHOOT !” Stiles screamed, voice strained, as I shoot the monster in the neck.

When he fell to the floor revealing myself, my breathing was cut short, when his amber eyes looked at me.

“(y\n)” he said, his voice almost pleading. “Stiles, I never-” I choked on the words. “Stiles, it’s you, always been you” I said the tears i’ve been keeping in finally falling down. “It’s ok, I’m here. I got you.” He said. “I love you Stiles Stilinski.” I shakily said.

Then, in a very loving manner, his lips were on mine.

[takaraphoenix]

So, @kimmycup​ tagged me in this game. Let’s do this. Alternately titled:

Let me rant about the difference in receiving feedback on FFN vs AO3

Because I am really getting lost in the math behind “most popular” fic. And it’s most definitely more than just “reaching a different audience” when the feedback for one and the same fic differs between over 1k comments on one site vs not even reaching 100 comments on another site.

Author Name: Takara_Phoenix

Fandoms You Write For: Okay so let‘s only involve the ones I am still actively involved with, not the ones that are like... eight years old and I haven’t thought of them once, yeah? That’d be: Percy Jackson, Shadowhunters, Marvel, Rise of the Guardians/How to Train Your Dragon, Detective Conan/Magic Kaito, Vampire Academy, Jungle Book, DC Comics/the Arrowverse, Descendants

Where You Post: AO3 and FFN, but occasionally also on tumblr - when it’s prompts or drabbles

Most Popular One-Shot: Depends on where you ask. And what you define as popular. Personally, the only value I see are in comments - kudos are literally just the press of one button, they mean nothing, and hits aren’t an indicator of much either considering it counts as a hit even when you opt out after a paragraph.

I’ve only had my AO3 for five years now, meaning that the fics on FFN still had four more years to simmer on there and gather attention, I suppose. Meaning, a fic posted for the first time obviously gets more attention than a four years later mass repost on another site.

On AO3, the oneshit with most comment threads would be How to Court the Prettiest Omega Ever in Five Years or Less, my first PJO ABOverse fic, featuring Nicercy. Which, you know, is only 37 comments on there. Seriously I genuinely blame the existence of the kudo function for the overall lackluster comment-response on AO3 because “press one button vs actually writing words”... but that’s a different conversation to be had. (I mean, seriously, in comparison, this fic has 51 comments on FFN... and it is by far not the one with most comments I have over there).

The clear winner if you look at FFN is Something Went Wrong, my first Minotaur/Percy smut fest with a whooping 116 comments. And yes. Positive. Genuinely did not expect that when after weeks of debating, I decided to post this story. *chuckles* (Again, for comparison, this fic got a total of 8 comments on AO3... eight... the difference there is staggering... Which, I’d like to tag on that, on top of the kudo-nonsense, the fact that AO3 displays total amount of comments to the readers and not comment threads is also misleading and I don’t think it helps, because I think you’re more inclined if you see it’s only 8 comment-threads in total on a fic you like vs it showing you 16 comments as the total comment-count.)

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: THIS IS TOO HARD TO ANSWER. I’d have to consult my chart, but that hasn’t been updated in ages. Because overall amount of comments means little if you don’t also take into account the amount of chapters - 50 comments on a oneshot are a lot, 50 comments on a 5 chapter fic, not so much, and 50 comments on a 50 chapter is frustrating to receive.

Okay, let me go full nerd on this one. Y’all know I love charts. There was a time where I was interested enough in finding this out that I had a chart going of all my multiple chapter fics. With a collumn on how many chapters the story had at that point in time, how many total comments on AO3, how many total comments on FFN and what, by combining those two numbers and dividing them through the chapter-count, was the average amount of comments per chapter.

However, that chart had last been updated on December 31st 2016. There’s been a lot of influx, lot of new stories and other stories gaining/losing popularity, so when I now say Meet the di Angelos with a 2016 average of 57,25 comments/chapter, that is completely exclusing ten fics I wrote since then.

Damn now I really wanna update the charts...

Also if you can’t tell by now how much actual feedback and comments mean to me, I genuinely don’t know how else to convey it... xD”

If you go by total comment-count - which, again, is misleading because you gotta keep the chapter-count in mind - it’d be Chasing Fireflies on FFN with 1749 comments (on 102 chapters. And, again, for comparison, 88 comment-threads on AO3. 88 vs 1749 is insane) and Percy and the Ghost King of Summers High on AO3 with 749 comments (on 50 chapters. On FFN that’s actually on 990 comments. Far smaller difference here compared to other stories).

Though I dunno, if you measure popular by fanart received, Summers High comes in with five, while my Chasingverse is in with 6... and multiple fanfictions written for it.

Favorite Story You Wrote: Favorite to write, or favorite to reread? There’s a difference there. I’m insanely proud of Chasing Fireflies and the plot and world I created there, the character development. I... don’t really reread it it’s over 500k long I don’t have that time.

Currently, I am really loving The Primal Instinct, it is sooo much fun to write, I get to put basically all my favorite headcanons in there, I’ll get to write Aline and Helen more and Jace’s interactions with others, it features both my favorite OT3s at once. (And it is faaar from my most popular one. Just, feel like mentioning this because my numbers-obsession may read as only writing for comments, which I don’t, I mainly write for myself. The comments are just... very, very nice treats to receive. Also, I love numbers and charts and were curious to see if there is a kind of trend there in what does receive most attention sooo...)

Story You Were Nervous to Post: Uuuh every new thing. Every time I step outta my comfort zone. Trying out a new pairing for the first time. Venturing into a new fandom for the first time. Experimenting with a new kink and wondering if this would be too much. Literally every single time, still.

How Do You Choose Your Titles: On a whim. I suck at titles. Mostly I try to force alliterations because I am a sucker for alliterations, but otherwise I do try to go with “as it says on the tin”, or I try a pun/being clever. Aside from my Triton/Percy fics. Every single fic I’ve written for them is named after a song from Disney’s The Little Mermaid franchise and I have yet to run out of songtitles to use for fics and hey, by then they’ll probably have included a new song in the live-action remake so there’s that! :D

Do You Outline: Depends. Oneshots? No. I just write those. Multiple-chapter fics? ...Depends. xD

If I have a clear vision for where it’s going to go, I do tend to divide into chapters and make myself small notes on what goes into said chapters. Mostly, it’s just a rambled “and x happens and then y” at the end though and then I see how I can make it fit into chapters.

Complete: 795 stories on AO3! Damn, I’ve been busy.

In-Progress: As of right now, 4. Because this week features my Ace Awareness 7-parter, though technically we’re right now down to 3 multi-chapter fics because the next one is only due to be released and join the rotation!

Coming Soon/Not Yet Started: Well, that is two entirely different things now.

Coming Soon:

Shadowhunters, Asmodeus/Jace, “The Royal Consort of Edom” oneshot on the 23rd

Shadowhunters, Magnus/Alec/Jace, “Nesting 101″ oneshot on my birthday this Saturday

Percy Jackson, Nico/Percy, “Something Borrowed, Something Green” oneshot on the 30th

Shadowhunters, Magnus/Jace, “Dancing with the Monsters in the Night” an out-side-of-schedule oneshot for Halloween

And I do think that that is what constitutes “soon”.

Not Yet Started:

HTTYD/RotG, Hiccup/Jack, “The Origin of the Blue Hoodie”, planned for November 27th

Shadowhunters, Magnus/Jace, “Set-Up by the Guard-Cats”, planned for December 4th

Descendants/PJO, Nico/Percy, Ben/Carlos, Uma/Audrey, “Demigod Defenders of Auradon”, planned for December 11th

A-and that is as far as I have planned my schedule ahead. Those three are the only fics on my personal schedule that I haven’t started working on yet. I don’t like to plan ahead too much, because then you just completely lose interest in the story by the time you get around to actually writing it.

Do You Accept Prompts: Prompts, not so much. Requests, yeah. For one, prompts always seem so demanding, while requests are more polite - and also more structured. Prompts are always like “here have one quick trope thrown at your head” and like... I do have a well-enough planned-out schedule with more than enough fics of my own set, I don’t need to try and turn one random prompt into an actual story. But if someone has a specific request, a pairing and an actual plot, that they really wanna see, I do always hear them out, I may not always like the pitch and thus not accept them all, but on the overall I do accept requests.

More inclined to accept birthday requests than random requests, because random requests would be put into the rotation of my schedule and, well come on that shouldn’t be a surprise, they tend to be pushed off then in favor of fic ideas I came up with myself because there’s nearly always more enthusiasm about writing an idea that you came up with yourself than the idea of someone else. Whereas birthday requests have a set date that doesn’t disturb my schedule and I am a big softie who has a weakness for getting gifts myself so I do like to do something nice for someone so they get something special for their birthday.

Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write: Most excited to write? Well, that’d be the Descendant/PJO crossover atm, because that is something very new and shiny and I do love shiny, new things to experiment on. But also The Prince of Pluto, my next multiple-chapter fic that I have already started writing.

Tagging: Whoever wants to do it! <3

[kanasmusings]

[Translation] QUELL “Matchless People” Track 1

I haven’t seen a translation for “Matchless People” yet so uh, here’s mine?? XD  Be ready for a lot of angst this time around because this drama CD is super duper plot heavy LOL

Thank you again to Deea for the files~! Please don’t ask her for them as per her request and please don’t ask if I’ll be sharing mine as well, thank you ^^

※ Please don’t re-post these translations without permission. Instead of reposting, please just like/reblog instead ^^

Under the cut, enjoy~!

Track 01: [柊羽の焦り] “Shu’s Impatience”

[0:00]

  SHU: Shiki, can I see the material we were handed just now?

SHU: It’s about QUELL’s release info and promotion for next term.

SHU: I could only touch it for a while during the meeting after all. I want to discuss the details with you if possible.

(Shu gets handed a piece of paper)

SHU: I saw the drafts you made from Haiduki-san a while ago. I want to draw something from the contents of those papers.

SHU: QUELL and SolidS, as a paired unit, I thought it would be good if we could be each other’s inspiration, too.

SHIKI: Hm, a paired unit, huh.

SHU: Are you considering QUELL to be a liability?

SHIKI: I didn’t say anything like that. What’s wrong? You’re unusually rushing into things.

SHIKI: Ah, are you worried about what the sales department said during our last meeting?

SHIKI: “Was QUELL holding you back with your activities as Izumi Shu,” was it?

SHU: Ah…

SHIKI: Hm. Speaking of, that was the first time you attended a meeting as QUELL’s producer, wasn’t it?

SHIKI: The meeting with the sales department will be harshly frank with things we wouldn’t want to hear.

SHIKI: You just have to get used to it. That’s the kind of world we’re in. That meeting doesn’t concern itself with talks about feelings, the future, music or talent. It plainly talks about the numbers and figures.

SHU: (sighs) You’re right.

SHIKI: Plus, you didn’t have a problem with anything else, right? Don’t think to deep into it.

SHIKI: Just think that it’s a genuine problem you clashed with.

SHIKI: In reality, the chance for you to say something for them to agree with just didn’t come.

SHIKI: If you’re unsatisfied, it won’t be that easy.

SHIKI: It’s not like you’ve been banned from doing activities with QUELL. As long as they’re able to recognize your unit, it’s a win, isn’t it?

SHU: Is that what you think?

SHIKI: Yeah. This is why people who aren’t used to critiques are stuffy. I’ve been told face-to-face once before that I don’t suit being a talent, you know?

SHU: Well, that’s amazing. How did you react?

SHIKI: What do you think? I answered, “Thank you for your guidance,” if I remember correctly.

SHIKI: I’m not as skilful as you are. I didn’t know who I could call my friends. I didn’t even know a proper way of asking an explanation for something I didn’t know.

SHIKI: If I’m told something, I have no choice.

SHU: Shiki, you’re pretty strong, huh.

SHIKI: I’m just shameless. I know that much.

SHIKI: When a meeting gets too heated, the other side also becomes uneasy so it’s easy to throw one or two harsh words.

SHIKI: Not everyone is clean though. I mean, I did have to apologize for something once before.

SHIKI: But, we’re still drinking buddies even now.

SHU: (chuckles) Is that so?

SHIKI: A meeting with the higher-ups is completely different from a meeting with your friends. Get used to it, that’s the only thing you can do.

SHU: (sighs) Looks… like it. Though, I don’t know if I can get used to it like you are.

SHIKI: What do you mean by that? Well, never mind. What I was trying to say a while ago was whether it’s possible for a new unit to improve in such a short time.

SHIKI: I’m surprised.

SHU: Of course. Don’t think that QUELL will always be behind SolidS.

SHU: We are determined to not only stand behind you but by your side.

SHIKI: I’m looking forward to it from the bottom of my heart.

[03:50]

  SHIKI: So, about the promotion that we were talking about a while ago—

SHU: Hm?

SHIKI: I don’t think the plan itself is bad at all. It anticipates expectations for both sides.

SHIKI: It’s just, don’t you think that the hopes for an event and the incentive promise is a bit too much?

SHIKI: This is because of what the sales department said, isn’t it?

SHU: Now that you mention it, it may be. But, QUELL’s album sales and event reactions for this season were above expectations.

SHU: The member roster is also steadily rising. I don’t want to say this carelessly but, I think we’re at a condition where we can challenge anything.

SHIKI: That’s true. If we take into account the sales for this season, it is a good number.

SHIKI: I think the members’ potentials are good, too—

SHU: Then--!

SHIKI: But, if you run forward with just these numbers, it will ruin you.

SHIKI: It is certain that QUELL has drive. But, wouldn’t it be better if you estimate for the long run?

SHU: Ah… (sighs)

SHU: You’re a lot stricter than the sales department, huh.

SHIKI: I’m just treating you the way you want to be treated equally as our paired unit, you know?

SHU: I see now. More than a year has passed since QUELL’s announcement as a unit.

SHU: Everyone’s gotten experience slowly. This isn’t just because of these numbers, I’m thinking far ahead into what else we can do in the future.

SHU: More importantly, I want to grasp this drive, this opportunity that we have now.

SHIKI: I know that feeling well. But, even if we take into account your musicianship, aren’t you kind of not one to be talking sales?

SHU: Even I don’t want to be a unit who only aims to sell.

SHIKI: Also, this kind of thing will be a huge responsibility for you.

SHIKI: I bet that’s what the sales department want to say, too.

SHIKI: You also have your solo activities, not just with QUELL. You have to aim higher with that as well. You can’t afford to stop going with that, can you?

SHU: (takes a deep breath) That takes priority as well, I guess. I’m sure it’s the same for you.

SHIKI: Me?

SHU: Don’t you continue to write music for people other than SolidS? I’m sure it shouldn’t be that different from my usual solo activities.

SHIKI: Mine is… Well, I’m used to it. It’s been more than three years since I’ve started doing it.

SHIKI: I know my job and the capacities of it well.

SHU: I’ve been in the industry as long as you. I don’t intend to become useless after coming this far.

SHIKI: I got it. Shu, let’s press this proposal another day.

SHU: Shiki?!

SHIKI: Shu, fortunately, we have time. Let’s keep each other in the right path for a while, all the hard work will definitely be worth it.

SHIKI: Plus…

SHU: Plus what?

SHIKI: Aren’t you being a bit… restless?

SHU: That’s not true…!

SHIKI: Well, you are QUELL’s leader and producer, Shu. You have the final say.

SHU: Yeah. Of course, I’ll do just that.

(they fix the papers and stand up to leave)

[07:36]

  SHIKI: Shu, you have anything planned after this? If you have some time, would you like to go eat somewhere?

SHIKI: We haven’t had much time with each other lately.

SHU: Ah, I’m sorry… I have somewhere to be after this.

SHIKI: I see. Then, I have no choice. See you then. Invite me next time if you find the time.

(Shiki walks away)

SHU: (sighs)

 EICHI: Ah, welcome home, Shu!

SHU: I’m home, Eichi.

EICHI: You’re home early~ I thought you’d went out to eat somewhere.

SHU: Ah, that’s right.

EICHI: Want something to drink?

SHU: Sure, I’ll have some.

EICHI: Wait here a bit.

(Eichi stands up to get some drinks while Shu sits down)

SHU: Hm, are you on your way to work?

EICHI: Well, I wouldn’t really call it work but, I wanted to go and coordinate tomorrow’s radio schedule, see?

SHU: That’s excellent work, you know? Oh, sorry, it seems like I interrupted.

EICHI: Mm-mm, not really. I was thinking it’d be a nice change of pace, too.

EICHI: Ah, that’s right! Look at the magazine on the table if you’d like~

SHU: Hm? (Shu picks the magazine up) This one?

EICHI: Yep, that one. It was on sale today.

EICHI: QUELL’s interview is right there in the middle~

(Shu starts reading)

EICHI: It was good~ It was really considerate of us and it kinda made me happy.

EICHI: (chuckles) And Isse and Icchi look really happy in the photo included with it that— Uh, Shu?

SHU: Ah, that’s right. It looks like a good article.

EICHI: Shu, that’s an advertisement page.

SHU: Ah, this is uh…

EICHI: Guess I went about things in the wrong order~ What Shu needs right now is this rather than the magazine.

EICHI: Here.

(Eichi hands Shu something)

SHU: This is?

EICHI: Miso soup with garden peas and tofu. By the way, it’s a broth made with katsuobushi and konbu! (1)

EICHI: Please enjoy it while it’s warm~

SHU: Did you make it, Eichi?

EICHI: Yup~ It took a while to make but I challenged myself with it. Go ahead, dig in.

SHU: Yeah. Thank you for the food.

(Shu starts drinking)

SHU: This is delicious…!

EICHI: I’m so glad~ I’ve only ever made ready-made broth but this is something I made on my own.

EICHI: It took a while but I guess it all paid off~ I had Rikka teach me how to make it the other day!

SHU: Ah, I see. Rikka, huh?

EICHI: I’ve been able to talk with Rikka about a lot of things lately. You know how I went and saw him in the studio the other day, right? (2)

SHU: If I remember, you went to go see the studio as part of a preliminary preparation.

EICHI: Exactly~ Rikka looked so cool! It made me think that I’m surrounded by cool and respectable seniors.

SHU: Yeah. Everyone in SolidS are both our rivals and seniors.

EICHI: I want to hurry and catch up with everyone but, if we take into account the amount of time and experience they have, even rushing would do no good~ It’s a bit frustrating, huh?

SHU: We can make up for lack of experience by other means. I’m sure everyone would want to cooperate with you.

EICHI: Ah, yeah…! You have a point.

EICHI: Just the other day, I was thinking that it would’ve finished early if they had discussed it with me or something.

EICHI: I feel like I’ve gotten closer with Rikka, too. If I want to continue to improve, I don’t have time to be weirdly reserved, huh? Really!

SHU: Eichi’s very kind-hearted, huh. You can face yourself directly and you take advice to heart.

EICHI: I’m not really. You’re exaggerating. I just think that discussing it with everyone is more fun than keeping ideas to myself in the sidelines.

EICHI: A-ah, I’m sorry! I said too much. Eat your miso soup before it gets cold, okay?

SHU: Yeah.

[12:20]

  (Shu continues eating)

SHU: It’s been a while since I could enjoy a delicious miso soup while this relaxed. Maybe I lack being able to talk about my feelings just a little bit.

SHU: Being impatient, huh…

SHU: It does seem so.

SHU: Can I talk to you about something for a bit?

EICHI: Of course, talk to me about anything.

SHU: I talked with Shiki about our next plans after the meeting ended and Shiki gave me advice about QUELL.

EICHI: Shiki-san is a producer and our senior after all.

SHU: Yeah. I respect him from the bottom of my heart.

EICHI: Yeah, I know~

SHU: Still, instead of taking Shiki’s advice with no complaints, I said some weird things.

SHU: He probably noticed so he invited me to go eat after the discussion but… I made a detectable lie about having plans and ended up just going home.

SHU: I felt like I couldn’t look Shiki in the face.

SHU: It’s not something an adult would do. It felt so childish that I couldn’t help but dislike it.

EICHI: I see~ Yeah, things like that happen sometimes.

SHU: You’re not shocked…?

EICHI: (chuckles) Not at all~

SHU: You’re so soft on me, huh, Eichi.

EICHI: Well, I won’t deny that~

EICHI: But, Shu letting his feelings take over rarely happens. I guess it’s because you trust Shiki-san deeply.

EICHI: You ended up saying what you felt out loud because you knew that Shiki-san would understand your feelings, huh?

EICHI: I don’t think that’s really a bad thing though~ Shu’s human, too, so there’s no need for you to always be in control over your emotions.

EICHI: You have to uh… explode with your feelings sometimes, too!

SHU: Explode with my feelings…?

EICHI: Even so~ (chuckles)

SHU: Hm, what is it?

EICHI: I just thought that even Shu regrets saying something after being given good advice~

SHU: That’s… Of course I do.

EICHI: Of course you do~ It just happens to anyone sometimes, huh~ Yup, yup~

SHU: You seem happy about it.

EICHI: Of course I am! I said this a while ago. The talent Izumi Shu is close to perfection, he’s lovable and undoubtedly cool. He’s like a diamond without a scratch in it.

EICHI: Even I thought you were like that before but…

SHU: I’m not that perfect.

EICHI: Yeah, I know~ But, it’s more like, being cool and perfect is just an aspect of you.

EICHI: You have a lot of other ‘faces’ deep inside you, too.

EICHI: Being at a loss, being depressed, hesitating, and laughing with all your heart at something fun!

EICHI: It makes me very happy that I get to continue on a journey when I can get to know more about you, Shu.

SHU: Eichi…

[15:51]

  (Issei and Ichiru suddenly arrive)

ISSEI: Wait, Ichiru!

ICHIRU: I told you to leave it be.

EICHI: Hm, this voice… Isse and Icchi?

ISSEI: Ichiru. That thing a while ago was my fault so…

ICHIRU: I said it wasn’t a big deal so don’t apologize randomly because of my mood!

EICHI: A-ah, what happened, you two?

SHU: Did something happen?

ICHIRU: It’s nothing.

(Ichiru walks away)

EICHI: I-Icchi!

ISSEI: Eichi, please leave him be…

ISSEI: We just… had a little fight. Probably…

EICHI: Probably?

  ==END==

Translator’s Notes:

(1) Katsuobushi is dried, fermented, and smoked skipjack tuna. [Source] Konbu is a kind of kelp.

(2) Eichi’s referring to the first track of SoliS Vol. 5 drama CD ^^

※ Please don’t re-post the English translations without permission.

If you enjoyed this, please consider buying me a ko-fi here to support my work if you want. (o^▽^o)Thank you!!

[catsblob]

i made my first basics post on nov 23 2016 and current me doesnt even know that innocent bitch anymore.. though she made some points

i won’t be repeating myself from before unless it’s to clear up somethin so here we go class

there’s no simple way to this. this relies on so many things such as post quality, interaction, active posting, and personality. if u got a shit personality, u’ll only be in this town for a month or so before getting kicked out in some way. 

make friends. yes, it’s easier said than done, but u gotta. reply to people’s posts, send asks, ask for collabs, make jokes, etc. etc. it helps to hang out w people who have similar aesthetics or interests as you! ur just gonna publicly clown yourself if u just hang out w people who have 0 commonalities w u... 

also posts? POST. preferably only sims-related stuff. many people, including me, avoid blogs that are mixture of irrelevant fandoms or are super personal. make a sideblog or a twitter to put that stuff in. yeah, its fine to post some personal updates here and there but... have mercy

this ties in with your posts getting attention. everyone starts off rough and getting lucky with a single like or even a reblog. it may take some people longer to get through, but you’ll make it if you try hard enough. don’t get easily disheartened!

this is just a reality check everyone needs entering this community, just about ANY community. at some point, you’ll most likely get some form of anon hate in your inbox or on simsecret. don’t take it seriously. laugh it off. make some jokes about it. clown them. key point is that there is a difference between a criticism and just plain rudeness.

within the past year, tumblr has done goofed up bad and has an automated system that flags posts that they believe is “sensitive content”. 99% of the time it isn’t so you gotta appeal it. sometimes, if you’re lucky, it’ll show an appeal button for you on the posts. if not, you can follow this method to appeal. if that doesn’t work, well, might as well just repost it.

most of the things that trigger the system are warmer tones (thinking its skin). i haven’t really noticed what else triggers it but i don’t even think tumblr staff knows that.

there’s been an uprising of patreon creators, esp in the ts4 community, and many use this as a way to earn some money for their work. may it be early releases (most popular), exclusive cc (which you shouldn’t do. it’s shitty), wips, benefits, etc. etc. it’s basically a fancier version of a donation box.

a lot of patreon creators do exclusive cc which is quite frustrating, esp for people who 1. do not have extra cash to spend on two files of cc 2. are literal children and can’t pay. 

support who you want and know who you are supporting. don’t waste your money.

i’m answering this as someone who creates for ts4. download sims4studio and blender (3d program - covers just about everything for ts4). you won’t really need anything else (besides, of course, photo editing programs) until you go on the deep end of 3d meshing. watch youtube videos. read tutorials (and resource tags). go wild with what you wanna do. figure out which area you wanna go ham in. poses, recolors, retextures, new meshes, building, decorating, etc. 

if you’ve been following me for the past couple of months, you know the general jist of this. legally, according to ea’s TOS, anyone is allowed to do whatever with someone’s UGC (cc) even without notifying them. this is when it gets a little crazy.

simblr has the reputation of having rigorous TOUs where you cannot edit at all (or you can with special permission). understandable, it’s just a respect of each others’ rules. people then go to the next step to copyright their cc, which isn’t truly legally correct. i’m no lawyer, but once you put your shit into the .package format (dedicated format for sims content [EA ownership]) then it’s a free for all.

here on tumblr, people can submit DMCAs and take down your posts and give you strikes to your account (three [uncontested] strikes and you’re out within an 18-month period). for example, marigold (sims4marigold) sent me 2 DMCAs over 3 of my posts that recolored/retextured their cc. with my cc respectfully going along their TOU (reminder: this is all just a respect thing), I submitted a counter claim through support (follow the steps it shows > if it doesn’t show, choose the “other” option) and explained how the DMCA was false. 

you will then go through a ridiculous process that will take months. you will need to submit personal information to properly submit a counter, so be wary of that. after that is processed and you agree to all the terms, you will go through a 10-business day process of waiting to see if the DMCA sender rebuts it. typically, such as in my case, they did not so my content was restored after the wait. 

if you were truly falsely DMCA’d, this will be a tedious process and annoying, but it’s worth it. contest to all of them and remove those strikes so your account is not terminated permanently.

and that bout does it! those were the tips i could think of that would benefit newbies in the community and hopefully helped anyone else who was a little confused by certain things. if you have any further questions, please go right ahead and ask!

[scenerp]

WELCOME TO CHICAGO !!

. . . . . P O P U L A T I O N; you.

scene stealers is a relaxed, no word count roleplay. we are a jcink premium community set in the beautiful city of chicago, illinois! our goal is to provide our members with a long lasting community where they can create life-like characters and build a vibrant world for them to live in. we are lgbtq+ and poc friendly, and the foundation our roleplay is built upon is to be a long lasting, comfortable, safe space where everyone feels welcome!! interested? well, you're in luck ... for the scene has just begun .... ready, action!!

hello scene stealers!

welcome to the official start of week two of buzz, pretend like their are air horns and confetti for special effect ... just use your imagination. again, much love and appreciation for everyone who has joined our buzz and has been actively participating in development and filling the tag, we have truly enjoyed reading every single one of your characters. which is why we are so excited to bring you development challenge number two. now the terms for development challenge are simple. all previous development posts that were posted prior to this announcement will not count. everyone is starting off fresh and on a level playing field. previous development trackers have been archived. points balance are all at zero. previous winners are eligible to win this super awesome prize. so, pull up your pants and get ready for a competition. the prize that you're competing for? early . site . access. yeah, this prize is a big one. for that reason we will be selecting two winners by lottery, and one scene stealer winner. lottery winner, of course, is selected completely at random. our scene stealer is based off staff weighing in on the development that you posted and picking someone who really knocked it out of the park. as with the previous scene stealer winners, the winner will receive 250 points deposited to the account of their chosing at open. now, for points structure. we're still going to keep the prompts from dev challenge number one open for posting. for every post tagged scenerp and tagged prompt:prompt name here with one of the following prompts will earn 2 points towards the development challenge.

basics, career, family, relationships, holidays, social, aesthetic, destiny, goals, dreams, drabble, luck, fears, fashion, travel, birthday, friends, enemies, squad, celebration, tradition, growth, rival, gift, thankful

and then we have some new prompts to add as well. every post tagged #scenerp and #prompt:prompt name here with one of the following prompts will earn 4 points towards the development challenge.

timeline, a few of my favorite things, living space, letter to your past self / letter to your future self, a moment when you felt at ease, my person, ideal type, a perfect date, highest point, lowest point

other things you can earn points for: reposting our advertisement is +1, posting a wanted ad/interest check is +1, words of encouragement to our admins is +2 . . . they're working hard. especially kari & kat who have been coding like mad. give them some love. again, because tumblr sometimes removes things from tag, we ask that you visit our lovely development tracker folder, create a document for yourself to track / document all of the development posts that you make so we can find them. previous documents have been archived, but if you want help retrieving the formatting from your previous doc and can no longer access it ... feel free to reach out to the staff via our ask box. changing things up from the previous development challenge to be kind to those of us who have to tally things up, you may only tag one prompt per post. not multiple. it got a little messy last time allowing for multiple tags and we really want to make tallying easy on us so we can announce who won sooner. if you make a post as part of this development challenge, you officially earn yourself another face reserve, so as soon as you do a development post in the tag ... head on over to our ask box and drop us a love note with your face of choice. as always, give us a list of back ups in case we are popular. this development challenge officially ends november 11th at 12am, so you have between now and then to develop as consistently and as thoroughly as possible to try and win yourself early site access. alright you guys, go ahead and start making a scene. we can't wait to read what you come up with.

to those of you just joining us...

don't forget to post up a personal intro and tag it #scenerp, after you've done that you can go ahead and send us a love note to our ask box to claim your first official free face!! then you can get cracking on that development to try and win some really cool prizes. include: alias / age (range?) / pronouns / your favorite kinds of character, faces, tropes, etc / a personal statement about you! / a tribute to the admins (a funny meme?), your favorite meme, a funny cat gif ... something to make us chuckle!! again, we are super happy to see how excited everyone who has joined up so far are for this roleplay! we'd love to hear from you. if you have any suggestions / comments / ideas for the roleplay, or things that you'd like to see prior to us opening .... our ask box is always open. feel free to shoot us a message and we'll be happy to answer you. welcome to chicago. let's create a scene !!

( BLOG // TAG // STAFF // RESERVES // CALENDAR . . . . . . . . . . . . GUIDELINE // INTRO // DEVELOPMENT // PREVIEW // MEMBER GROUPS )

[great-nini]

TRUE COLORS - An Ink x Error Fanfiction (general information)

Welcome to the guide post of my Fanficiton called “True Colours”.

In this post I will gather general information about my story. If there will be many questions this will turn into a FAQ-post, so it will be updated if needed.

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WHAT IS IT ABOUT?

Normally I’m not much of a shipper, but Ink x Error kinda hit me hard. And as I couldn’t find a decent Ink x Error fanfiction out there (if there is one and I missed it I’m highly sorry, I didn’t search for long as the most stuff out there seems to be poorly written smut), I decided to write what I wanted to read myself:

This is the story how Ink and Error become a couple (is this a spoiler?) while staying as true to their original personalities as possible. 

Of course I had to change some things, but without those minor changes they aren’t shipable. Also I added some “story” around them, as I prefer it if stories don’t take place inside a bubble :’) 

So yeah, there is an actual plot (it’s rather long) and everything is progressing veeeeerryy sloooow. As you might imagine, those two dorks need to go through a lot of change before they can become the devastating cute couple we know and love. And sometimes life isn’t working in your favour either...

Although I tried to include as much canon as possible, keep in mind that I interpreted a lot of things! If you wonder what is canon and what not, ask me, I kept track of pretty much everything I used as a reference.

This whole story was highly inspired by the amazing blog @ask-glitch-and-squid 

Ink belongs to @comyet / @myebi

Error belongs to @loverofpiggies

(I won’t tag other characters here as it would be a spoiler.)

And most importantly: this story wouldn’t be as good as it is now without my AMAZING BETA READER @azy-arty You made it so much easier to work on this story it’s a blessing ;__; <3

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WHERE TO READ?

The first chapter can be found HERE.

All chapters will be published on my profile on Archiveofourown.org. Don’t repost my work somewhere else!

You can find my profile here or just look for me as “Greatnini” on AO3.

I will inform about every new chapter on my tumblr page.

The post which links to every single chapter that was already published can be found here: Index

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 AGE RATING 

I think this story is suitable for everyone at the age of 13 or beyond.

There won’t be smut, there will be violence, some chapters can get under your skin if you’re sensitive and there might be one, or two (or more...) scenes that evoke quite some emotions. At least I try to achieve that. (My beta reader @azy-arty says I’m feeding off her tears).

If you have a soft soul - be warned! But generally: enjoy!

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HOW OFTEN WILL THERE BE AN UPDATE?

I will try to post an update as often as possible. I try to aim for every 1-2 weeks.

But university has started and this story is rather long, and sometimes I need to connect two or more chapters to each other, so I have to write THEM ALL before I can post a single one of them. I really don’t want to go back and delete chapters to reupload them. And I have a life. But the whole story is already planned from beginning to end, so I will pull through with it!

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AM I ALLOWED TO MAKE FANART/DUBS?

Of course you are! It would be a great honour to be honest. 

Just link back to my tumblr page, my A03 account or this post! 

As a tag you can use #truecolors!fanart (or #truecolors!dub if you make a dub? Don’t know if people wanna make dubs out of it :’D) than I will be able to find it more easily :>

If you are left with questions: Go and leave me an ask!

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True ColOrs or True ColOUrs???

I use both to tag my work - #truecolours and #truecolors because “color” is the more common version here in the Internet, but the story is written in BE. I know, confusing. 

Go with whatever feels natural for you.

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THERE ARE SPELLING/GRAMMAR/... MISTAKES

I am really giving my best to avoid any mistakes and thus I check my texts over and over (and over and over) again, but let’s be honest: I won’t be able to give you a flawlessly written story. My aim was to improve my writing/language skills with this story - one of the main reasons behind this project. (Please remember that English isn’t even my first language).

If you find something and you have the strong urge to inform me, go ahead and tell me, I will correct it. (Just...don’t be a dick about it.)

Spelling and grammar is easy to correct for me even without help, but sentence structure and commas are a different thing. (God damn I can’t even remember the rules for commas of my native language xD) Nevertheless I won’t be lazy and try my best to present the best English possible.