#i’d probably also go crazy and like bleach my arm hair

[pollenallergie]

what if i… bleached my hair?? and bleached my brows?? and bleached my latina ‘stache?? and bleached my hairy ass arms??? and what if i just dipped my entire body in a vat of bleach??? what then???

[gernades]

Ace is gone. He’s been gone for five weeks. 

Nancy has had a lot of time to think. 

She sees the places where he used to be- the kitchen, his house, the spot in his driveway where Florence is always parked- and can’t stop looking at them. 

“Nancy?” 

Nancy blinks and looks up. Ace’s mother is watching her, hands resting on the dough, eyes concerned. “Are you okay?” 

Today they’re making babka-chocolate bread, braided in sections and glazed with egg wash. Nancy looks down. She’s not very good at braiding, but it mostly looks like Rebecca’s dough. 

“I’m fine,” she says, a half-smile working its way across her face. “It’s just been a long week.” Another week without Ace.  She doesn’t know why she’s here, in his house- in his kitchen- but Rebecca doesn’t seem to mind. She never has.

Nancy’s here every other day, now. They’ve made bread and biscuits and a dozen Jewish desserts that Nancy is now addicted to. 

Sometimes, Thom joins them. 

( “He’s taken quite the shine to you,” Rebecca whispers on one such day, eyes sparkling. “He’s not like this with everyone.” 

Nancy doesn’t bring up the ASL textbooks sitting new and shiny on her desk at home. 

Talking about me again, Thom signs over his shoulder, and Rebecca laughs, flicks him on the shoulder. )

Now, Rebecca gently sets down her dough and wipes her fingers off on her apron. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

No, thank you, is Nancy’s knee jerk reaction. She pauses before letting the words come out. She’s been doing that more often, as of late. Sana-her therapist- would be proud. 

Nancy purses her lips and drags a finger through the loose flour on the counter. “It’s nothing, really. I’m just… going through a lot with my dad’s business, and... I can’t help but feel like I’m never going to be happy again.” 

The last part she doesn’t mean to say out loud. “I’m sorry,” Nancy says immediately, and lifts her head up. “That was…” 

“Oh, honey,” Rebecca whispers. Her eyes are shiny. “I don’t know exactly what’s been going on, but I can tell that it’s been hard on you. You’ve always been so strong. Just like your mother.” 

“Hm,” Nancy manages, throat tight and vision blurry. When Rebecca bustles around the table and wraps her arms around her, she doesn’t pull away. 

Rebecca smells like soap and rosemary: she is warm and accepting and she makes Nancy’s heart hurt less. This will have to end eventually, but she can’t help but lean into it anyway.

                                                              *** 

“You’ve been spending a lot of time out of the house,” Carson remarks later that night. 

They’re sitting at the dinner table, doing their best to eat what is supposed to be spaghetti, courtesy of Ryan. He’s still learning how to use basic appliances: his cooking is dangerous.

 Nancy wrinkles her nose and stabs at a coagulated lump of pasta. 

“Yeah. Nothing bad. I’ve just been… baking.” 

Ryan hums and shoves a forkful of food into his mouth. Nancy and Carson watch in amazement as he gets it down without gagging. “You’re really good at it, too. That, uh, chocolate croissant thingy you brought home yesterday was amazing.” 

Nancy raises an eyebrow, amused. “The rugelach?” 

Ryan jabs his fork into the air. “Yes. So good.” 

“Spending time with Rebecca, I gather?” Carson’s voice is light and free of judgement. Before the whole Wraith thing, Nancy would have pulled up her walls, deflected the conversation. 

It’s a little different now, though, so Nancy just nods. “It’s just... nice to have someone to talk to who’s normal.” 

Carson sighs and rubs her shoulder. “I understand that completely.” 

“Hey,” Ryan states, expression pinched, “is pasta supposed to make my stomach bubbly?” 

Nancy and Carson exchange a long, tired look. 

They take Ryan to the ER for food poisoning. 

                                                              *** 

George slams a palm down onto the table. Her engagement ring sparkles in the afternoon light. Nancy jumps. “It’s been quiet, Drew. Too quiet. I don’t trust it.” 

Nancy takes a long look around the Claw. It’s nearly packed to the brim with customers- their Yelp ratings have skyrocketed since the staff have actually started working again. “This is your idea of quiet?” 

George groans and slides into the opposite booth. “You know what I mean. We’ve had nothing supernatural happen for almost a month. It’s driving me crazy.” 

“Good,” Nancy replies mildly, and takes another bite of her crab roll. “I’m taking a sabbatical from sleuthing.” 

Sana was the one to suggest a break from anything stressful- like sports or large events! Avoiding murder and possession via the paranormal probably isn’t what her therapist means, but Nancy can read between the lines. 

George screeches. Half the restaurant turns to look at them. They turn back when they see who it is. 

“What?” She narrows her eyes and leans in. “Okay. I never thought I’d live to see the Hero of Horseshoe Bay gives herself a break.” She crosses her arms. “I’m proud of you, Nancy.” 

Nancy’s heart hums. She sends George a grateful smile. “Thanks.” 

George smiles back. “Your lunch break was over ten minutes ago, by the way. I need you to clean out the grease traps.” 

Nancy’s smile drops. 

The grease traps are gross, hard work. They’re also the last normal thing Nancy did with Ace, which is equal parts sad and amusing. 

She grits her teeth and scrubs her cloth against the dirty metal. At least it’s cool here, in the kitchen, and away from the always-prying eyes of customers. 

The bell above the restaurant door tinkles faintly. Nancy sighs and dips her rag into the bucket of degreaser. 

Bess screams, high-pitched and excited. “Ace!” 

Nancy stands up so quickly that she knocks the bucket onto its side. No way. 

He can’t be back- it’s too soon, too late. Nancy needs to think more. If he’s back, she can’t go to his house again, can she?

Heart pounding, she creeps over to the window and peers into the restaurant. He’s surrounded by Bess and George- and, after a moment, Nick jogs in from the parking lot, smile blinding. 

Nancy wants to go see him. She does. Her feet seem to have other ideas, though. She can’t seem to move at all. 

Ace looks good. His hair is longer, and sun-bleached; his skin is tanned. Even from this distance Nancy can see the new freckles on his face. 

There’s a leather jacket, black and tight around his shoulders- and two new silver studs in his ears. He’s smiling. He looks happy.

 Nancy’s chest aches. 

“Hey,” she hears him say to George, “Where’s Nancy?” 

Nancy takes a half step backwards. 

“Cleaning the grease traps in the kitchen,” George replies, spreading her arms in a grand gesture. “The best job in the world.” 

Ace laughs. 

Nancy runs. 

She doesn’t really run- she simply makes a strategic, tactical retreat into the staff room and out the back door. 

There’s no time to overthink it- not yet, her brain and heart agree. Not yet. 

Nancy thanks her former self for parking her car at the very edge of the lot. Nobody notices as she pulls out onto the road, a full two hours before her shift is supposed to end. 

Ooh, she’s a little runaway! Bon Jovi croons on the radio. Daddy’s girl learned fast- 

Nancy grits her teeth and pushes her foot against the accelerator. 

All those things he couldn’t say! Ooh, she’s a little runawa-

Nancy spins the radio dial with fumbling fingers, and spends the rest of her drive listening to germanic opera. 

“Shit.” 

                                                               *** 

“Jesus,” Ryan says when he opens the front door. “You look worse than I do, and I spent three hours getting my stomach pumped last night.” 

Nancy pushes past him without a word. 

Ryan’s voice lowers, softens. “Nancy. Hey.” He reaches out, gently wraps a hand around her wrist. She stops walking. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Nancy says, but her words come out wobbly, uneven. 

Ryan scoots a little closer. “Okay, well… that’s a lie.” 

Nancy snorts. “Ace is back.” 

Ryan smiles, relieved. “That’s great!” He pauses. “Isn’t it?” When she says nothing, he squints his eyes, searches her face. “Oh,” he says finally. “I see.” 

Nancy stiffens, alarmed. “How did you-,” 

Ryan sighs and taps his cheek. “We make the same kind of face, you know. Genetics and all that.” 

“Shit,” Nancy says again, and tries very hard not to sink through the floor. 

“Don’t worry,” Ryan promises. “I wont say anything.”

“What’s going on?” 

Ryan and Nancy turn to face Carson, who is wrapped in a purple robe, fresh out of the shower. He takes one look at the expression on Nancy’s face and rushes over. “Is there another entity-,” 

“No,” Nancy says vehemently. She drops her head onto his shoulder, breathes in the smell of his aftershave. “I’m just not feeling well.” 

Neither of her dads press her for more- they simply stand like that, the three of them, for a very long time. 

                                                              *** 

        George: where the hell are u?? 

        George: hello? nancy?

        George: are u ok

        Bess: ACE IS BACK!!!! :D

        Bess: wait where r u 

        Nick: Did something happen? 

        Ace: hey. i just got back. where are you? 

“No,” Nancy says softly, and turns off her phone. “I am not good.” 

She needs a plan. Something to protect herself, and to spare everyone from the complications that one-sided feelings often bring. It’s been a good five weeks, if she doesn’t include the whole Ace thing. It’s been peaceful. Happy. 

She doesn’t want to ruin that. 

Nancy draws her knees up to her chest and stares out the window. I think I’ll just have to pretend. It’s either that, or avoiding Ace altogether- which would be impossible.

No more baking with Rebecca and Thom, either. That hurts more than Nancy wants to admit- but she’s already made up her mind. She’ll keep her feelings on the back burner, and do her best to keep things normal. 

With a sigh, she stands, and goes upstairs to take a much-needed nap. 

She dreams again. It’s the same one she’s been having every night for the past five weeks.

Nancy dreams of silk and cigarette smoke- because Ace always has to light one up after he has a joint- and of the ocean. The waves lap at the shore, rhythmic and quiet. It’s peaceful, here. Safe.

She dreams about a cliff, soft grass: warm, roving hands and a familiar mouth against her own. If she calls out his name in her sleep, that’s her problem.

 If she wakes up sweaty and teary-eyed, that’s her problem, too.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 292: You Say Jeans

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “well anyway here’s that Touya reveal I foreshadowed like a million years ago, viva la 2020.” Dabi was all “hello world, I’ve killed 30 people and today I’m going to explain to you all why” before he proceeded to explain ABSOLUTELY NOTHING but everyone was so distracted by his tale of child abuse and hero conspiracies that they didn’t much seem to notice. Can’t Ya See-Kun’s Shark Friend was all “IS THIS THE END OF HERO SOCIETY AS WE KNOW IT”, and Horikoshi was all “STAY TUNED”, and then Dabi set himself on fire and leaped off of Machia’s back like the chaotic evil, I-just-bleached-all-my-brain-cells weird little fire man he is, ready to burn everyone to crispy bits before they could even react properly to his whole big revenge speech. Fortunately he did not succeed on account of THE RETURN OF THE JING, THE JOAT, BEST FUCKING JEANIST, back from the dead by popular demand in what critics are calling “the best fucking comeback since Jesus himself.”

Today on BnHA: Best Jeanist snatches up Machia and the rest of the League with his fiber steel cables before you can say “more like BEAST JEANIST amirite.” Dabi gets all worked up and lights Hadou on fire which is a real JERK MOVE, and is all “THIS RIGHT HERE IS ALSO ENDEAVOR’S FAULT”, which, NOT SUPER CONVINCED ON THAT, BUT OKAY. Anyway so then he burns up all the cables holding him which is crazeballs btw, and then he and Shouto start fighting, and so basically the whole thing is a literal hot mess and we’ll see how that goes. Meanwhile Tomura wakes up and summons some Noumus, and poor Jeanist has to deal with those on top of the still-attempting-to-rampage Gigantomachia, and everyone else is all “we can’t help you on account of we’re all half dead”, and so it’s looking really bad. And then -- and I can’t stress enough how much I don’t even have the faintest idea how to segue into this next part -- the chapter ends with Mirio!?! just sort of POPPING UP OUT OF THE GROUND all, “SURPRISE, BITCH”, and it literally was so surprising that I am still just kind of speechless. WELL-PLAYED, I GUESS, lol wtf.

lol okay so the first page in the RHA scan is just the “three musketeers” movie promo image that we all already saw a few days ago. but it does confirm that (a) it is indeed a movie, and (b) that it’s set for a summer 2021 release! how exciting

okay so now back to our special Dabi edition of Making a Murderer

“ray of hope” oh hell yes. SAVE US MR. JEANIST

I guess he had a TV in his private hero jet or something?

gotta say, “dammit Dabi” does not even remotely sound like Authentic Best Jeanist Dialogue to me though. gonna need Caleb to see to this. well but what do you guys think? does Best Jeanist curse?? I personally feel like he’s one of those guys who NEVER EVER swears no matter what, except under the most hilariously trifling circumstances. like he’s eating an avocado one day and he accidentally stains the cuffs of his beloved jostume green and he’s all “FUCK”

btw how fucking rich is Best Jeanist though that he has his own fucking plane? the thought just suddenly occurred to me, you know? like even Endeavor, whose agency has its own on-site luxury apartment suites for all of his interns, still drives around in a dinky little car that Bakugou has declared to be too small. which, I guess we know why he felt that way now, seeing as the guy he previously interned with apparently gets around in Jeans Force One

anyway so back to the part where Jeanist shows up to save the day!! YEAH JEANIST WOOOOO

ILU JEANIST YOU REALLY ARE THE BEST!! HUGS AND KISSES!!!

lmao we just saw Gigantomachia take out like a hundred guys not ten chapters ago. and Best Jeanist shows up and takes him down in like two seconds. HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES LEAGUE OF VILLAINS. BET YOU’RE WISHING YOU’D TAKEN HIS QUIRK NOW, AFO. GET FUCKED YOU OLD SPUD

KACCHAN IS SO HAPPY TO SEE HIM AWW

SIDE NOTE, IIDA, YOU AND I ARE GONNA HAVE WORDS LATER ABOUT YOU ACTUALLY AGREEING TO PUT HIM BACK DOWN. YOU DO UNDERSTAND THAT THIS CHILD IS STILL DRIPPING BLOOD ALL OVER THE PLACE FROM HIS MULTIPLE STAB WOUNDS, RIGHT? WAY TO ASSERT YOUR AUTHORITY THERE. I THOUGHT YOU WERE THE CLASS PRESIDENT NOT THE CLASS CLOWN, COME ON NOW

LMAO DABI IS FRANTICALLY TRYING TO DO THE PLOT MATH

SHOULDA CHECKED MORE CLOSELY MY GOOD MARK. LOOKS LIKE YOU MISSED THE “MADE IN CHINA” STICKER ON THE BOTTOM. YOU HAVE BEEN BAMBOOZLED. OR ACTUALLY, I GUESS THE MORE ACCURATE WORD HERE IS JAMBOOZLED, AHAHAHAHA. JEANS

HOLY SHIT DABI

I legit almost thought that was Tomura for a second. you two look so alike now with the white hair and the crazy eyes

meanwhile, Shouto is still crying and it’s a lot to take, you guys. lotta feels

ffff come on Jeanist you better do something awesome again here, the mood of the chapter is starting to slip now

YES, GOOD, THAT’LL WORK

WELL YOU TELL ME, SPINNER. I GUESS THAT MEANS BEST JEANIST IS OFFICIALLY THE STRONGEST CHARACTER IN THE SERIES NOW. SORRY I DON’T MAKE THE RULES

ffff now Spinner is trying to wake Tomura back up. nah, how’s about we not do that

OH MY GOD HADOU YESSSS

MY GIRL OUT HERE WITH THE “NO THANK YOU” BOUT TO CURBSTOMP THE BIG BAD WITH HER QUIRK KSFHLKLK WHO HERE HAD “HADOU SAVES THE DAY” ON YOUR WAR ARC BINGO CARDS, YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!!

HEY!!!!

fucking son of a... fffkfkff... someone please reassure me that fire isn’t Hadou’s weakness. someone. anyone. also could someone please dial an ambulance and send them to Horikoshi’s house. but not just yet. first I’m gonna need you to wait about fifteen minutes or so while I take care of some things

well all right then, Dabi. so you wanna go on then and explain to us all how this, too, is somehow Endeavor’s fault?

oh I see, you’ve decided that since he’s responsible for “creating” you, everyone you hurt and kill is in truth really being hurt and killed by him! well now, that sure is convenient as fuck I guess

(ETA: that’s a nice effect with the panel sides getting all warped by Dabi’s quirk though, just noticed that.)

amazing how quickly you used up that sympathy card my guy. Shouto please kick his ass, I’m fucking done lol, you can all sort out the rest in therapy later

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE DIAL BACK DEKU’S EMPATHY STATS JUST A LITTLE BIT, HOLY --

“TODOROKI-KUN IS HURT THE MOST”, HE SAYS, WITH HIS ARM BONES SHATTERED INTO LITTLE TOOTHPICK-SIZED PIECES. I MEAN, HE’S PROBABLY TALKING MORE ABOUT MENTAL ANGUISH GIVEN THE CONTEXT HERE, BUT STILL. THAT’S ENOUGH HEROICS FROM YOU ALREADY FOR ONE DAY

NOOO JEANIST

LOTS OF SMOKE IN THE AIR RIGHT ABOUT NOW AND MY BOY’S STILL DOWN A LUNG. GOD DAMMIT

“if the number one suffers a total loss here, this country will fall to pieces” well okay, real talk though, I think the “country falling to pieces” part is pretty much unavoidable at this juncture. you all are just gonna have to try your best to pick up those pieces after the fact and see what you can do with them. if I were you I’d be less worried about the number one’s reputation and more concerned with the half-dozen child soldier interns who are still on the field and very much at risk of being burned to death should you suffer that “total loss.” please try to keep it together here for them

OH FOR FUCK’S

I really thought RockLockRock was gonna come into play here. USE YOUR QUIRK TO LOCK THE ROPES IN PLACE YOU DIP!! if he seriously just sits there and does nothing when his quirk could be the deciding factor I am cancelling his useless ass cute kid or no cute kid shfkjdls

(ETA: is he even there?? did he and Manual just hightail it out of there?? “well good luck, children.”)

also, we’ll put this aside for now to perhaps speculate about later, but what’s with Tomura remembering his dad’s house yet again in that far right panel?? and being itchy again?? I still have yet to fully work out the psychological mechanisms at work as far as his itchiness goes, so I’ll admit this is intriguing to me. it seemed like it was connected to his decay quirk, but then why is it acting up again now. what is this lol

yuh oh

forgot about these guys. looks like these heroes aren’t having such a fun time

oh fucksticks

excuse me ma’am but I don’t like this. you do know that my kids are all there, right. all burnt and impaled and broken-boned and the like. well except for Iida. he’s fine still. BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN I FEEL LIKE WATCHING HIM GET TORN APART BY FOUR HIGH ENDS, WTF

HORIKOSHI YOU MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR TO GOD

god fucking... okay look. Horikoshi. you win, okay!? congratulations, you win, this is your show and we’re all just sitting here at your mercy. fine. go ahead and just kill off everyone ever, then!! what am I even gonna do about it. stop reading?? fuck

this whole thing really went from zero to fucked before I could even blink huh. I really thought this was gonna be a turning point chapter for the heroes. shows what I know I guess??

meanwhile this motherfucker is just SCREAMING

ngl, if I wasn’t currently terrified on account of things suddenly taking such a drastic turn for the worse, this would be the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Jeanist my man, I hype you up like it’s my job because you are the greatest fucking meme character in the history of time, but make no mistake, you are also highkey WORTH ALL THE HYPE AND THEN SOME

seriously, though. don’t fucking mind him you guys, he’s just standing here in the coolest pose of all time taking on Gigantomachia all alone with one fucking lung because the substance pumping through his veins is COLD-BLOODED LIQUID DENIM, and DENIM FEELS NO FEAR

Best Jeanist really needs to get his own theme song. -- oh my god I just finally thought of a title for this post. lmao and it’s the dumbest thing. omg

MEANWHILE THE TODOROKI BROS ARE OFF IN THEIR OWN DRAMATIC LITTLE FIRE WORLD

which one do you think is the Mario and which is the Luigi. well, but I mean, Dabi clearly thinks that he’s the Luigi though and that’s why he’s so mad. nobody wants to be Luigi. what a life

THAT’S IT, SHOUTO!! POINT OUT ALL OF HIS HYPOCRITICAL BULLSHIT, I WANT ANSWERS

JUST TO CLARIFY, IT’S THAT NATSU, NOT SOME OTHER NATSU!! SO WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF!!

OH, WELL IN THAT CASE

BUT OF COURSE. THAT WOULD MAKE IT ALL WORTHWHILE, holy shit. okay I’m just gonna go ahead and say it, Dabi is a piece of work. I really thought this arc would make him more sympathetic at long last, but it seems like it’s doing just the opposite?? this is like an anti-redemption arc. I don’t relish the thought of venturing into the fandom tags once I finish reading this lol

(ETA: well folks, I’ve done it. and actually it was pretty interesting because there are apparently like ten different things that people are mad about, and so it’s like. each post is a new adventure lmao.)

so Shouto is all “BRUH HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST IT” and Dabi is all “YES”, basically? like, he says he’s completely lost his feeling for anything. omg. but you were so sweet. how does that even happen

“finally I can kill you” okay for real what the heck is your damage bro?? can we not. I like Shouto just the way he is, un-killed

oh shit and now the Noumus are here

cue Bakugou diving in to save his mentor, STAB WOUNDS BE DAMNED!! actually it would make more sense for it to be Iida, but if Kacchan is really fixin’ to go full Shounen Dumbass here then he might as well go all out, y’know

-- unless of course, Deku decides to activate another quirk??

“last I checked, the main character of this series was still me” OH? WELL I SUPPOSE THAT IS TRUE, SO PRAY TELL, WHAT HAVE YOU GOT LEFT UP YOUR SLEEVE YOU SUICIDAL BRUSSELS SPROUT

fucking love how he’s all “HAHAHA WITH MY NEW QUIRKS I CAN STILL DO STUPID SHIT EVEN WITH MY ARMS AND LEGS GROUND TO A FINE POWDER” btw. what can I say. Deku gonna Deku

FMMFHDKUHK W H A T

HOLY SHIT. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. WHAT THE WHAT. QUE THE FUCK

(ETA: okay look, all the love in the world to the brave scanlators who take time out of their lives to translate the leaks every week just so we can read the chapter a couple of days early like the addicts we are. that said, translating Mirio’s signature “POWER!!” -- which was already written in English in the original scan -- to “POG-CHAMP” is just a whole new level of wtfuckery from them lmao. is the Lida person back at it again?? amazing.)

MIRIO!?!?! SHOWS UP TO SAVE THE DAY?!?! POGS HIMSELF UP OUT THE GROUND TO BEAT THE NOUMUS LIKE IT AIN’T NO THING. JUST LIKE WE ALL PREDICTED!? I’M SORRY, DID YOU NOT SEE THAT COMING?? YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOUR DAILY HOROSCOPE FROM ASTROLOGY DOT COM DIDN’T HAVE THAT ONE IN THE CARDS?? WAS IT NOT OBVIOUS?? TODOROKIS PLUS BEST JEANIST EQUALS MIRIO??

hot damn. Tintin really saw the writing on the wall with the impending Dabi Discourse and was all “NOT SO FAST” lmao. “HERE’S A BRAND NEW THING FOR YOU ALL TO DISCOURSE ABOUT” MIRIO YOU WILD CHILD. YOU GLORIOUS THUG

MEANWHILE LET’S NOT FORGET WHAT MIRIO HAVING HIS POWERS BACK ACTUALLY IMPLIES. HOLY SHIT. SUDDENLY WE CUT BACK TO ALL MIGHT’S OFFICE, ALL THE WAY BACK AT UA. ERI BRANDISHES HER TOKOYAMI-GIFTED BUSTER SWORD, A DETERMINED GLEAM IN HER EYE. “I HEARD YOU WERE TRYING TO HAVE A GIRL POWER ARC WITHOUT ME.” OH. MY. GOD

[wizardouxie]

PANTONE 2046 C

Genre: Fluff, #ZoeAppreciationWeek

Pairing: Zouxie

Summary: The Pink Hair Origin Story (alternatively also the Blue Hair Origin Story)

Word Count: 2788

Author's Note: First day of Zoe Appreciation Week! Wanted to participate so have this not so little one shot to showcase our lovely pink haired witch <3

"Wow, the dye came out really nicely," Zoe murmurs as Douxie exits the bathroom, his hair freshly blown dry -- from its tips to the full bangs dipped in a deep yet striking blue. He smiles widely at the quiet compliment and waves over to Archie.

"How does it look Arch?" they ask, though the answer is pretty clear, if Archie's fond gaze is anything to go by. The familiar flies in to nuzzle his face.

"Dashing as ever, Douxie."

Zoe leans back into the couch with content, taking in the beautiful sight that is her best friend. She did really good. The faint buzz of adrenaline lingers on the pads of her fingers. Right, she forgot. That was her first time.

"Are. You. Crazy? I've never even dyed hair before!" the natural brown haired girl hissed. She begrudgingly wiped the bubblegum that had exploded over her lips -- a result from the initial shock when Douxie first made his request. Granted, she felt honored that they would come to her before anyone else, but still! She can't risk ruining his hair, she doesn't have experience, plus the hair salon could totally do it better and-

"I'd rather it be you than anyone else," the wizard confirmed firmly. Zoe turned to the familiar. Surely the cat who lived with this stubborn kid could knock some sense into them. Archie could only provide a shrug in response.

"They're pretty sure about this."

She groaned.

"Fine, fine! But give me a few days unless you want me to pick out the wrong dye and end up with neon green."

[ 1 Week Later ]

Zoe couldn't keep track of just how many hair channels and blogs she'd gone through. She mimicked their hand movements, using cheap wigs and mannequin heads to simulate the experience. Through it all, one voice echoed the same message: "You can't mess this up."

She bought all the necessary tools. Gloves, hair clips, bleach, foil, just to name a few. Oh, and of course the dye -- though you'll be surprised how one can forget the simplest things while getting caught up in trying to memorize everything. Blue, Douxie had asked for. But what kind of blue? Sky blue? Cobalt? Midnight? Which one? She pinched the bridge of her nose before angrily texting the wizard. It went a little something like this:

DOUX: go with whatever you think will look good! i'm fine with anything tbh :]

ZOE: i Hate you so much

DOUX: ??? WHY

ZOE: IDK SHIT ABOUT HAIR DYE HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHAT LOOKS GOOD

DOUX: let's talk about this in person before you electrocute your phone again

ZOE: you won't let me live that down will you

DOUX: you know me so well ;)

She shoved the phone back in her pocket. There's no way she was actually doing this for him.

She was.

"Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?" she asked for what would be around the 73rd time. Douxie pulled his face down with both hands.

"Ugh, the answer is still yes, love. I'm not asking you to dye the whole thing, just the front part, bangs and sides."

She rolls her eyes at the nickname and smacks the clean brush against his head. She smiles at the little 'ow' that Douxie lets out with a pout. Hm, cute.

"Alright, but don't start moping around if it doesn't come out the way you wanted it!"

"Nothing that a little magic can't fix if it gets to that point. Which I hardly believe it will."

And now here they are.

Douxie crashes on the couch with Zoe, slinging an arm over her shoulders. She raises an eyebrow at the sudden physical touch, but it's never unwelcome. Not when it comes to him.

"You know of all human creations, I gotta say, this one really takes the cake," they start and Zoe snorts.

"You say that about nearly everything."

"Can you blame me?"

She looks at them and no, she really can't. In fact, she finds herself agreeing with him. He looks... really nice. A faint blush spreads over her face; not that it is noticeable by any means -- the two of them happen to have done this dying process starting from the evening to night, so the dim lights in her home do little to highlight her features. This is still her Douxie, lovable guitarist and wizard nerd who cares about everyone. Yet there was something about the hair dye that changed things up a bit. Something good, naturally.

The two of them fall into a comfortable silence, doing whatever is usually available. Sometimes it's texting, scrolling through social media, or listening to music. Other times it's zoning off and reminiscing about the past.

Zoe decides to go for her phone, unconscious of the way her hand finds its way into Douxie's hair, carding through the locks and untangling them with nimble fingers. It's peaceful. Maybe even a little too peaceful, considering the two of them are adrenaline junkies.

"Douxie, I can hear you thinking..." she begins. It's a common way to start the conversation between them, and oftentimes she's right.

He turns around, her hand still in his hair, but enough to meet her eyes. Their own eyes look serious and her heart sinks. Were they not happy with their hair?

The answer is quite the opposite.

"You ever considered dying your hair too? Maybe we can match."

The untangling stops.

And then the tugging starts.

"Ow ow ow-"

"Hisirdoux Casperan you are a menace to society."

She does though. She considers it for weeks. Of course, Douxie doesn't push; it's her hair at the end of the day, she can do whatever she likes. But after seeing how well she did with the wizard, she kinda felt excited. She definitely can't forget the exhilaration she felt when she saw people compliment Douxie at Benoit's or at the GDT book store. Her heart started beating faster when he looked back at her with a proud smile on his face-- damn that wizard, they told the others that she did it for them, didn't they?

After a few days, a young girl in a cap comes up to her at the record store. Probably from Arcadia High, if her backpack stacked with books is any indication.

"Hi! I'm Claire. Claire Nuñez," the girl starts. Zoe raises an eyebrow in interest.

"Hey Claire. What can I get you?" she asks, raising a flask to her lips. There's no water. Damn.

"Um, it's not really a standard request, but um, I was wondering if you could dye my hair?"

Zoe chokes on her water. Dye her what?

"Kid, are you new here? This is a records store. I can give you the direction to the hair salon it's really not that far."

"No, no, no! It's just, this guy got their hair dyed and I asked if he did it himself and they said you did it for them so I came to you. It's nothing too big! Just a strand really," Claire rambles. She gestures to the invisible front of her hair, currently tucked away behind the cap, outlining it with her fingers. The hedge witch groans.

"That would be Douxie. Now, here's the thing I don't do this for just anyone. Douxie happens to be a close friend so what I did was a little gift for him. I don't even know you, so what do I get out of this?"

Claire pales.

"Uh, $20? I know a full head of hair costs way more but like I said, just a strand..."

Zoe's stomach rumbles in response. She had $5 currently in her wallet which could buy a snack at most. She pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Ugh, you're lucky I'm hungry. Catch me after my shift is done okay? And I only got one color on me, which is blue, you good with that? Otherwise bring your own."

"Yes of course, of course! Thank you so much."

"Yeah, yeah, now scram if you're not here to buy anything."

"Oh actually, I was wondering if you had anything Papa Skull released recently!"

Curse this girl and her good taste in music.

[ 45 minutes later; 2:00 PM ]

"Thank you for doing this by the way," Claire starts. Zoe waves it off. She doesn't really know why she agreed to this. Well kind of. She wanted to eat. But besides that, she also was curious to see if she could satisfy another "customer". Hair dying was never a profession she had properly considered and right now? It doesn't hurt to entertain a thought.

"Alright so I have the bleach, you'll need to let that set in and keep that before dying the strand you want. We can even add toner to neutralize the color post bleaching if necessary," she lists off. Claire shakes her head.

"That won't be necessary!"

The girl pulls off her cap and surely enough, there's a light blonde lock, similar to Douxie's, just a little lighter. Zoe's impressed.

"Well that definitely makes my job easier. Especially since this is my second time."

"Wait, second time?"

"You didn't know?"

"No?"

"Of course Douxie leaves that part out. You want out? I'll pay you back the $20 in four days."

"No, I trust you."

Zoe always believed that she had tough and cold demeanor. Clearly she's doing something wrong if people are finding her trustworthy just by looking at one dye job.

"Alright then, here we go! Don't say I didn't warn you," the witch replies. She wraps the cloth around Claire softly, and pulls up the bowl with the dye in it. With a gloved hand she separates the pale strands from the brown ones. The blue will definitely be more prominent here than it would be with Douxie's. Something tells her that Claire wouldn't mind.

From the looks of Claire's surprise, wonder, and delight, she definitely didn't mind.

"It. Looks. So cool! You're really good at this. Maybe you should start a hair dying salon or something," the girl rattles off. Zoe raises a hand.

"I'm already working two part time jobs so... no. But I'm glad you liked it. The blue looks really good. Stands out well."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Claire repeats, putting back her cap on. A feeling of confusion overcomes Zoe.

"Wait, why are you putting your cap back on? Don't you want to show people?"

"Duh, but um, my mom doesn't know about, uh, all this. You know, councilwoman things."

Zoe's mouth drops, the $20 bill crumpled in her hand. So that's why she didn't go to the hair salon. Nuñez is the councilwoman, so she'd know pretty much everyone in the town. And word spreads pretty fast. In summary: Claire would have gotten caught.

"See ya!"

These kids are going to land her in some serious trouble one day.

With a burger and soda in her tray, Zoe takes a seat and pulls out her phone. That Claire girl though, she's sort of inspiring. Adventurous. Not hesitant in taking chances. And you know Zoe, she absolutely loves the thrills of life. Whether it be hunting magical creatures or refining her usually unpredictable magic. The humans tend to have mellow definition of risk taking, in her opinion, but their examples are fun enough in their own way: crossing the speed limit, riding rollercoasters, anything along those lines. The brunette clicks on a familiar contact and begins typing.

ZOE: which color looks good on me

ZOE: don't ask it's for a stupid job thing

DOUX: which job?

ZOE: WHAT PART OF DON'T ASK

ZOE: hex tech, something for employee uniforms

DOUX: i was going to say pink since it brings out your eyes but if it's for uniforms i dunno, light blue?

ZOE: hm interesting

DOUX: you should just work here at the book store it's chill

ZOE: but then i'd have to deal with you

DOUX: now is that really a bad thing?

DOUX: zoe.

Light blue is definitely a no go, Zoe decides. Too much blue dye going around. But pink, hm she could work with that. It's a pretty bold color and it would compliment her eyes as well as her face in general. A win-win for her.

And as for how far she's willing to go? She decides to go all in. No tips, no ombre, just complete bubblegum hair. Of course this takes a few days to gather the guts.

'You can do it Zoe, just go for the bleach,' she thinks to herself. Her hands shake with nervousness and excitement. Frankly, hunting niffins didn't compare to the rush she's feeling right now. She closes her eyes and brings the brush to her hair.

Well, here goes nothing.

She winces as she feels the tingling sensation, but loads of videos have assured that such symptoms were normal. She continues to work at it, using the foil to make sure she doesn't bleach a part of her hair to death. It's long and strenuous, but she knows the results in the few coming weeks would be worth it.

She doesn't have to worry about Douxie finding out thankfully. Turns out these weeks are essential for Merlin's "To-Do" List. Apparently it was to find Camelot?

"The castle he means. Not the actual kingdom. That's been gone for centuries. Anyways, I'll be back once I actually find it. Dunno how I'll do it and it probably will take me and Arch a month or so, haha. Oh! And if my hirers ask you anything, it's a family emergency."

Hm, whatever. A brief thought of Merlin dying his hair neon green amuses her, before she goes back to watching more hair dye videos. They've become a little addicting nowadays. She's amazed at how often people do it. How do they keep their hair so healthy?

It's been four weeks now and Zoe's eyes stare at the pink concoction in her hand. PANTONE 2046 C. This was the shade that stole her heart in the middle of the hair dye aisle. No other color could compare in the slightest. Even the cashier who packaged her order hummed in approval.

"Nice color! Not many go for it, but it'll suit you for sure."

This time her movements are calculated, not clumsy or fear driven like it used to be. One could even say she's getting the hang of this. Her hair over time changes from platinum blonde to a dark matted pink. She lets it sit for a bit, meanwhile focusing on getting the dye out of her hands. This turns out to be harder than she thought and she sighs. Well, maybe another day.

After washing and blow drying her hair, she stands in front of the mirror. The witch staring back at her is almost unrecognizable. As if she were a new person completely. And she liked it.

The blank stare shifts into a grin and she tugs at her own locks. Goddamn. She looks really good.

And well, Douxie's reaction is priceless to say the least.

DOUX: you said to meet up at the museum where are you

DOUX: i swear if you slept in i'll send archie to knock down everything in your apartment

DOUX: ok no i won't but still it's been a month since we last saw each other come on

DOUX: wait a second

DOUX: you're joking

DOUX: IS THAT??? YOU????

DOUX: IN THE PINK

DOUX: oh fuzzbuckets you look stunning

DOUX: Hello this is Archie. You broke Douxie so could you please finish your conversation with whoever it is you're with and come pick him up? Your hair is absolutely lovely by the way.

ZOE: omfg

ZOE: can't take you guys anywhere

The witch smiles at the girls and nods over to a gaping Douxie and his cat before gracefully exiting the conversation. She approaches her friend and pushes his jaw up with her index finger.

"So I'm assuming you're digging the new look hm?" she teases.

"You have no idea," Douxie responds. A pink tint lighter than the shade of her hair blooms across Zoe's face at the expression of adoration in her best friend's eyes. The two of them have been through a lot together, seeing each other grow and change. And this time, it was a really fun and welcome one.

"I might try this again with a different color some time. You wanna join then?"

"Don't have to ask me twice."

It's crazy how all of this came from a chaotic, impulsive research project to help a friend. But honestly Zoe wouldn't have it any other way.

Maybe Douxie was right. Of all human creations, this one beats pretty much everything else.

[diavolosthots]

Hi! Can I please request Solomon with female!MC? Let's say they're not very close, civil/casual at most but with some distance since they don't get to spend time with each other, but MC has a crush on him. And one day they just find themselves alone together and there's some awkward tension. Aaaa I don't even know where I'm going for, lol. But you know, there's some kind of electric thingy happening. I hope that makes sense?! Hehe thanks

Honestly i dont know where i was going with this but ya know. Also you said female but honestly theres no genitals or breasts or the like mentioned so although its tagged as F its honestly more GN

Tension ( SOLOMON X F!READER )

Life in the Devildom was honestly not what you expected at all. Had someone told you that demons actually exist, and that wizards and witches were real, you would’ve laughed in their face because wow that seems… a little too far out there, Karen. Yet, here you are, besties with the Devil, speaking with Lucifer himself, and crushing on a wizard that doesn’t even know you exist. Well, he knew of your existence, but how much could that actually mean when you rarely ever talked with one another. Luke was your only way to get to the guy, and even then, you both tried to avoid him in the kitchen because no matter how much you liked Solomon, his cooking is atrocious. You’d rather drink bleach than try that again. Sadly, he’s a little too dense to realize that, although the Gods have blessed him with magic, they certainly didn’t bless him with basic cooking skills. All of that, however, doesn’t really seem to matter much when all you really want is his attention. 

Unbeknownst to you, he’s quite curious about you as well. His feelings are neutral, he thinks, and if anything, he’s just more concerned with another human being in the Devildom, one who seemingly can’t defend themselves, although he has no proof of that. He’s curious on how your stay will turn out, if it even turns that is. You could always just get eaten by demons and in that scenario, he isn’t sure if he would’ve said, “I knew it!” or genuinely be upset. Maybe a bit of both? To him, he thinks, you’re just a science experiment at the moment, and he’s thinking of doubling up with Satan to see how far he could push your limits. He knew he needed to push his own limits to get somewhere, so why wouldn’t you be the same? Honestly, he thinks that humans have that in common; needing to be pushed to their limits to unlock their full potential. 

But anyhow, the point is, you two can’t really form a meaningful relationship for the life of you. Even at RAD, where you have most classes together, it always seems that you’re getting dragged away, or he finds himself surrounded by succubi that would love to kiss his naked feet. Weird, but okay. The incubi are up your arse, too, so it’s not really something unusual. It’s just that it feels like the universe is.... Forcing you to be apart almost? Through really weird circumstances. “We’re still going to the spa later, right, (Y/N)?” Asmodeus pulled you out of your thoughts, twirling a strain of your hair in his fingers. You forced a soft smile, honestly not feeling it anymore, but not wanting to let him down, “‘of course.” but that’s when it happened. Complete darkness. All the lights, even the fires, inside of RAD seemingly went out. Diminished. Poof. Gone. Was this what hell was actually like and the powers of the Devildom were finally tired of Diavolo being too soft?

“(Y/N)?” You felt a hand on your arm and screamed, only for someone to laugh and you quickly figured out it was Solomon. “Solomon?” You felt around in the dark until your hand finally touched something; a coat. You breathed a sigh of relief and moved a little closer until you felt his body heat, but not his body because that’d be weird. “It’s you. What’s going on.” He’s glad the dark is covering him because the sudden touch does have him feeling some type of way, but that’s probably because he can’t see and all his other senses are going crazy. “I don’t know. I’m even more confused as to why everyone else seemed to have left. I walked around a bit and I’m not bumping into anyone, I can’t even hear anyone, except for you. My magic isn’t working either for some odd reason, so I can’t even light a candle or the like.” “You carry candles around?” Honestly it shouldn’t surprise you but you were still kind of confused by his statement; who carries candles around?

A soft laugh filled the air around you and you could’ve sworn you felt the rumble in Solomon’s chest as the sound left him, “yes, of course. You never know when you’ll need them.” But you only frowned, glaring at him although you’re not sure if you’re facing him in the dark, “so you carry candles around but no matches?” Silence. Solomon, truthfully, felt a little bit embarrassed, but he recovers quickly, “well, usually I’d just use my magic.” Another wave of silence passed and you heard Solomon shift before the sound of a chair moving across the floor could be heard and you assumed he had sat down and the silence ensued until he interrupted it, “any reason this could have happened? The Devildom is in complete darkness, not even the castle is lighting up.” You looked forward to where you’d think the window is and he’s right; not even the castle is lit up.

“Do you… do you think something happened to Lord Diavolo that is causing the Devildom to be so dark?” He snorts, silently making fun of that, “why? Because he’s the only light down here?” “Th-that’s not what I meant! I mean… he is the most powerful being down here right? So maybe, if he lost his power, even just for a moment, all of it would be gone.” Solomon hummed in thought, thinking about it but ultimately deciding against it, “no. His powers, or lack thereof, shouldn’t affect all the sources of light…” back to silence. Honestly, that was the worst part about this. The constant silence. It’s so draining and so overwhelming all at once. You knew he was right there, just an outstretched hand away, but at the same time he didn’t feel close enough, “(Y/N)...” your name falling off his lips brought you back and you looked at him, well… you looked in the direction where you thought he would be. Suddenly, a pair of hands snuck around your waist and pulled you into a seating position. You quickly figured out that this was his lap.

“Solomon…!” Your body was tense against his, although you had to admit he did feel fairly warm and theoretically speaking, you could potentially relax against him. “Hm? Oh, right. Sorry about that, I was just thinking that if everyone else disappeared, there’s nothing keeping you or I from disappearing either, and I rather keep you close to me before that happens.” His reasoning seemed fine, although that didn’t make you feel any less tense. Honestly, there was so much tension all around. It was as if he was the cause of the tension, and you were beginning to understand exactly why. You swallowed thickly, shifting in his lap a bit until you, presumably, faced him. His grip on your hips never faltered, and instead, firmed up. “Solomon I… This may sound dumb, but… can I kiss you?” A sudden rush of confidence flew through you and your hands moved to find his face, cupping it gently. You hoped he looked at you right now or this could end kind of awkward, “yes.” 

He didn’t know what prompted him to agree to it but he found himself leaning up a bit, trying to find your face. His lips found something and his eyes immediately fluttered close, his lips pursing to kiss it, only to find you laughing and he immediately pulled back, thinking this was a joke, “I… I hate to break it to you but that was my eyeball.” Well now he’s laughing too. “Haha… well… take two?” You nodded, forgetting that he can’t see and leaned in, kissing his forehead on accident, “you need to lean up, too, Solomon!” He’s grinning, although you can’t see, “what if I wanted a forehead kiss? Besides… third time’s a charm, no?” Once again, you both tried, finding the corners of each other’s lips and moving in from there, smiling into the kiss. The tension seemed to lift, at least for you, and you wondered if he felt the same tension before, “see? Third time’s a charm.” 

He didn’t dare pull away too far, leaning in to kiss you again, his hands sliding up your curves to get tangled in your hair and move your face just a little bit closer against his. You sat there, in his lap, kissing him for what felt like hours, and even after your lips were swollen and numb, you couldn’t help but lean in for another, and another, and another… the light never turning back on as far as you were concerned. 

[potatotrash0]

Hey idk if youve done this alreadh but im curious about your body headcanons for the sdr2 cast!! An anon sent some in for characters previously (the one where they said things like angie has vitiligo and stuff-i love them and they really stuck with me haha) and i wanna know your headcanons!! :D

Hmhmm this one I might be listing off the spot lmao. I feel like my hcs are mostly just. Common hcs but hey I never said I wasn’t basic skdjksjdks

cw for. Everyone. Yeah kdjfksjdks

Hajime…..I like to think he’s slightly buff? Maybe that’s not the right word. Toned? Idk, I hc that he jumps around hobbies a lot because he wants to find something he’s good at, so that includes sports. I like the idea that a few stick with him, like swimming and basketball. I imagine he also has light scrapes and scars on his legs from falling, both with skateboarding and general Clumsy Shit.

Also this one switches a lot but with Trans Hajime, I can see him with top surgery scars.

Oh ah, I like freckled Hajime!! It’s cute. This one goes with the sports hc, but I like the idea that he’s kinda tanned. Entirely unrelated but I also like the idea that he has calluses from playing guitar.

Chiakiii!! She’s soft bc I said so. Specifically her thighs, arms and stomach + some stretch marks. And moles all over. Projecting big time onto a cute fictional girl, call that self care <333 /j

uhh other than that, I imagine she has bags under her eyes from staying up late gaming. Also tan Chiaki my love. Shh I know she probably doesn’t go outside for days on end. In my defense I tan easily and I imagine she does too. Again with the projection. Shhhh

Oh oh!!!! I forgot to mention but!!!! Chiaki gets a ton of moles. I saw the boob mole and went !!!!!! fellow mole haver!!!!!! and went nuts. This is the one weird niche entirely irrelevant thing that can get me to like a character, just. Being able to point at them and jump up and down with joy over them also having moles. Idk why it’s just therapeutic <33

Nagito’s bony. Skinny mf. Could probably cut cheese with his elbows. Maybe grate it on his collarbones. Cuddling with him would be a fight to see if you can find a position that doesn’t end with something poking you in the gut. I mean this affectionately, he’s bony as shit but he’s my bony fucker <3

Pale asf, sunburns if he’s in the sun for more than two minutes. His eye bags could hold the entirety of his life’s trauma. Sharpest features ever. Sometimes I hc that he looks greasy, and other times I hc that he looks ethereally pretty in a ghostly way. Either way he always looks like he’s had the soul sucked out of him by a Dementor.

You can probably definitely see the veins in his hands. They’re. Very There. Also I’ve brought this up before but he definitely has big ass hands. L a r g e hands, all the better to head pat you with. This was originally so much more pining but I decided no I’ve exposed myself enough on this blog skfjksjdkd

Oh last minute thing, I think he’d be tall as fuck. Specifically 6’0 or taller. Also he probably (definitely) has at least a few scars from his childhood, particularly that plane crash. And I like to think he has glasses when he’s older. I’m so sorry that his section is so long I have so many thoughts about him ;;;;;

Okay uhh Imposter? Mmm. Idk actually. I do think they’d have callused fingers but soft hands. Probably from having to adapt to using a ton of different talents for their Imposter Agenda. Also stretch marks probably, all over their body.

Teruteru uhhhhh. God. Can you tell I don’t think about some characters ;;;;; Idk I don’t have much that differs from canon. I like him. Oh but he probably has cook hands? Chef hands, whatever you wanna call them. Probably faint scars from cuts and burns from when he was still learning how to cook from his mama.

Mahiru……hmm well freckles obviously dkjfksjd. I think she’s tanned as well since I feel like she likes sunlit shots. Idk I don’t have much. I like to think she’s got a stockier body type though.

Also not necessarily her body but I like her with an undercut!

Peko’s buff <3 it’s canon <333 /j

N ee way yeah. Buff Peko my love. Also she probably has a few scars from handling her sword when she was younger and less experienced. I also feel like she would have contacts she wears when she trains bc fuck exercising with glasses

I don’t really have anything for Hiyoko until she gets her growth spurt. Afterwards, I imagine she’s tall and kinda thin? Mainly bc of fast metabolism probably, though when she’s older maybe she’d be a little less spindly.

I don’t know if her hair would be bleached or not, but if it were, I like the idea of her letting her actual hair color grow in. If not, I think Ibuki might help her try a few sections of dyed hair? Idk I just like the thought

Ibuki is a fellow bony bitch. I mean this lovingly. She’s skin and bone. Skeleton rocker lady

Probably tan, I imagine she spends a lot of time in the sun. She strikes me as a summer person. Oh, I also saw some art of Black Ibuki with vitiligo and loved that!! Also calluses from shredding guitar, obviously

Hmmm I like the idea that she rollerskates? So possibly some bruises or scars on her arms or legs from falling on concrete when she was still learning. Oh oh I imagine she has a ton of piercings!!! On her ears, nose, lips, brows, tongue, belly button…….maybe she has a split tongue too idk. Also she totally gets a ton of tattoos when she’s outta Hope’s Peak, prove me wrong.

Mikan uhhh. I like tall Mikan. She deserves the height. 5’8 to 6’0 Mikan good 👍

Hmm she probably has scars all over, particularly on her arms and legs. Uh. Idk I imagine she’s curvy probably. What do I say for her I don’t have anything skjdksjdks

I’m not even gonna lie I don’t have a damn thing for Nekomaru. Or. Wait nevermind here’s a concept: buff Nekomaru but like. If you’ve seen those wrestlers who have fat on them that hides some fucking crazy strength? Yeah that’s him. Also hairy asf.

Gundham……tall vampire vibes. I’d say he’s a stick but also I feel like he’s the slim type of muscular. Idk how to describe it. Shigaraki type muscle? Male gymnast. No nevermind those guys have visible muscle. Shigaraki type it is

Hmmm I think this is canon but probably a few scratches from his pets. His arms and legs mainly but I’m sure the Devas have scratched up his neck at some point or another. Just a little though. Also piercing fiend Gundham my beloved. I also like him having a couple tattoos when he’s older. Ibuki probably helped him heheh

I’m torn between Fuyuhiko being skinny as shit and Fuyuhiko being tiny and buff. I like both………hhh

His hair is probably bleached. Peko probably helps him re-dye it when his roots start growing in. I also like him having glasses

Uhhh tooth gap Fuyu’s cute. I used to have a super small one before I got my braces, I imagine it’s the same for him. Him, Ibuki, and Gundham are probably Tattoo Buds.

Kazuichi…..I want so bad to say he’s a weakling just to make fun of him but he’s a mechanic that probably works with heavy machine parts a lot and he probably has some sick biceps. But he probably also smells like hair dye, oil, metal, and Monster Energy. Win lose situation I guess.

I like to think he has a couple piercings? Not as many as Ibuki, but maybe he’s got like. Second or third place in the class. Also he totally filed his teeth to be sharp like that

Akane!! Buff lady, could probably deadlift me or something. She’s definitely got some scars from running around, especially when she was first learning parkour. Ummm oh, I like to think she has a chipped tooth or smth like that from falling roughly as a kid.

Soniaa <33 in my heart she will always be tall and have at least some muscle. Novoselic is a war country if I remember correctly, she’s definitely got some military training in her.

Idk why but her with heterochromia just popped into my head. That pretty greenish blue gray that she has + maybe brown or hazel? I think that’d be cool. And hip dips.

[peaceoutofthepieces]

chapter 34 (part I)

Fake Making-It

Social Media AU

previous chapter

sorry part II won’t come until tomorrow (maybe not even then 😅) and it’s not proofread, so sorry for any mistakes

~^~

Robbe steps out onto the back porch and curses under his breath, quickly pulling on his brown jacket. The night air is cool and crisp and its wind is biting, and he tucks his hands into his pockets in an attempt to save them. Once he’s safely wrapped up, he looks around and instantly lights on a shock of bleached hair.

Sander.

Robbe stares at him and swallows. Fuck.

He begins to turn around to head back inside, but then Sander looks over his shoulder. His eyes light up when he catches sight of Robbe, and then he smiles, and Robbe stomps down the flames in his belly and goes to join him.

“Hi,” he says. “Have you been out here long?”

Sander shakes his head. “Maybe about ten minutes?” He flicks his gaze over Robbe. “Everything okay?”

Robbe tries not to squirm. “Yeah, just needed some fresh air. I was starting to sweat in there.”

Sander huffs, looking back out in front of himself. “Shouldn’t take long to cool down out here.”

That’s probably debatable, Robbe thinks. The air had chilled him instantly, but the sweat’s starting up again. His face feels too hot, even as wind whips at his cheeks and nose and numbs them. He hasn’t dragged his eyes off Sander. He can’t. Even as he tells himself this is what he’d been trying to avoid, his body won’t respond to his brain. It’s listening to his heart instead, and his heart’s focus is all on Sander. He wasn’t supposed to be alone with him. That was the one goal, the one deal he agreed on with Jens. Neither of them were to be alone with Sander or Lucas.

But, well, Jens had been tipsy and dancing (badly) with a group of people, and Lucas had been talking to a separate group in a whole other area of the room, so at least Robbe hadn’t left them alone together. Plus, he hadn’t gone looking for Sander, and he’d asked Jens if he wanted to come outside with him, so this is really not his fault.

He’s knocked out of his daze when Sander nudges him. His cheeks flush at the amused tilt to Sander’s lips, the raised brow. It takes him a moment to realise Sander is holding the joint out towards him in offering. He takes it gingerly, with trembly fingers, telling himself he’s only so shaky because of the cold. The long drag he takes warms him up slightly, but it’s less because of the weed and the smoke and more because he’s thinking Sander’s lips were just here. It’s much more intoxicating.

He shoves the thought away, reminding himself why he can’t have any of that, even as he licks his lips and chases the taste. God, he’s a mess. Jens would take this opportunity to remind him that he’s a mess and tell him to get it together. Sander’s fingers brush against his as he takes the joint back and sparks shoot up Robbe’s arm.

He swallows and curls his arms around his stomach, turning to face out along with Sander. There’s a full smoking area out here, a patio with a few tables and stools with people clustered around them, talking and laughing, all in various states of inebriation. It allows Robbe to suck in a breath and steady himself. He isn’t alone with Sander, not really. He should just relax.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sander asks.

Robbe hadn’t even realised the other man was looking at him, but he feels his eyes now, heavy and warm. He shifts his weight and aims for a smile. “Yeah, I’m good. Are you?”

Sander nods, shrugs. “It’s just a lot, in there.”

“You mean Aaron’s a lot?” He raises a brow. Moyo and Aaron had both been a little too excited to meet Sander and Lucas, but Aaron had been the one to go starstruck before Sander even opened his mouth. Robbe doesn’t blame him—he can relate.

Sander laughs. “Nah, Aaron’s cool. Everyone is. There’s just a lot of everyone.”

Robbe purses his lips and nods. That, he understands.

“Jens seems better, though,” Sander adds. “Today went well.”

“Yeah, everything’s great so far,” Robbe agrees. “I think he’s mostly just glad the waiting and secrecy is over, you know? Now it’s out there and he can actually talk about it and not have to be so hidden.”

Sander’s expression shutters, and then flickers right back into a smile as he nods. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Robbe supposes he imagined the blip. He returns the smile and leans against the railing next to Sander. A riot kicks up in his stomach as their shoulders brush, his heart hitches, his breath flutters, no, that’s not right, everything is backwards and upside down and inside out and it’s insane. He doesn’t know how it works like this. He doesn’t know what cruel twist of the universe decided on this fate, in which he could be brought to his knees by a nonexistent touch by someone he can never have. There’s no explanation for the strength and extent of his feelings for this person he really barely even knows. A month and a half they’ve known each other, and Sander has completely taken over his brain and heart without even trying.

He would probably run if he knew. No, he would let Robbe down gently, but in a mildly bewildered state of well, you know I’m already taken.

Robbe has spent many nights turning this exact fact over and over in his head, hurting and doubting. Jens’s words keep ringing in his head. He doesn’t know Lucas well enough, really, but does Sander seem happy? Robbe can’t be sure. He doesn’t know him well enough, either. He isn’t allowed to.

“It feels weird, being around you without the excuse of work,” Sander mumbles, flicking the end of the joint and watching a sprinkling of ashes fall to the ground. “I didn’t know if it could be like this. If we’d ever be anything more than just work colleagues.”

The admission makes it seem like he’d thought about it quite extensively. Robbe swallows, doesn’t understand, feels something kick in his stomach again anyway. Their shoulders are pressed together now. “I like to at least consider us friends,” he says, even though the word burns up his throat and drips off his tongue like acid. In an attempt to sound lighter, he adds, “I only tell true friends my darkest secrets, after all.”

Sander huffs, turning his head to grin at him. Robbe’s breath leaves him in a rush. “I’d hardly call ‘Romeo and Juliet’ a darkest secret. It’s quite cute, if you ask me,” Sander says, grin gone teasing, and fuck, Robbe is so gone.

“Good thing no one did,” Robbe quips, pointedly, stamping out the flames once more. His attempts are rendered pointless in the face of Sander’s laughter, loud and husky, breath floating out in plumes with the force of it.

“I thought you’d be dancing around in there,” Robbe admits, doesn’t add with Lucas. “I thought I heard a Bowie track earlier.”

“Ah, been studying up have we?” Sander muses, eyes brightening. As if it’s not enough to have them reflecting the moon and the stars, the entire night sky held captive in him, and likely the entire universe by Robbe’s guess.

“A little. Bowie’s really good background music, surprisingly.”

Sander gasps and places his free hand over his heart, mock offended. “Bowie is so much more than background music.”

“Oh please,” Robbe scoffs. “Don’t try to tell me he isn’t the background soundtrack to your whole life.”

Sander laughs, again, and bumps Robbe’s shoulder with his own as he shakes his head. It feels so easy, too easy. It’s too much and Robbe can’t get enough of it.

A silence overtakes them, and he stares openly at Sander as Sander stares pensively at the ground. He watches as Sander flicks the cigarette again and then turns to face him. “I wanted to talk to you about something,” Sander says, at the same time Robbe blurts, “Do you want to get out of here?”

Sander blinks.

Robbe flushes. “I mean, uh, I thought you might want to go for a walk, or something,” he says sheepishly, voice an octave too high. “Instead of going back inside. Just, along the Scheldt, or something. But we can also go back in if you want. Or I mean I can just leave you to it. You came out here for a breather.”

“I think you’re the one who needs to breathe,” Sander points out, and his accompanying laugh is quiet and breathy. Robbe is already swooning, and then Sander smiles at him again. “A walk sounds good. You’re warm enough?”

Robbe nods, biting his lip as he feels his cheeks grow even warmer. He tilts his head back towards the bar. “Walk and talk, then?”

They slip back inside and through the throng, winding around small clusters of people to make their way to the front door. Robbe catches sight of Jens in the crowd, talking animatedly with Moyo, and breathes a small sigh of relief. He isn’t breaking their deal, because he isn’t leaving Jens alone with Lucas.

And, well, Jens didn’t say anything about actively instigating alone time. He’d just said he wouldn’t leave Robbe alone with Sander, but Robbe is leaving alone with Sander, which is different.

Right?

The air is chilly when they step outside again—Robbe had stopped noticing while he was so close to Sander. Now, though, walking down the street with the wind whipping at his cheeks, he understands why Sander had asked if he was warm enough. He isn’t anymore. But he’s not going to tell Sander that and risk sending them back, or worse, having to explain.

They’re silent on the short trek towards the Scheldt, where it’s even colder. Robbe curls his hands in his pockets and hugs his jacket tighter around himself. Sander slows as they walk along the water, unsure of what the plan is and letting Robbe take the lead. Robbe knows they’re aren’t many options beyond walking a little further and then turning around. Instead he goes and leans against the wall and smiles when Sander joins him, pressed shoulder to shoulder like before.

Robbe nods at the building across the water. “You know they had like a billboard sign of Jens up there when he first released his music?”

Sander raises his brows. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, it was fucking crazy. I mean you could make it out clearly from here. Not that easily, but still.”

Robbe still remembers it vividly, how gobsmacked Jens had been and how many jokes Moyo had cracked. He remembers people requesting photos with Jens with the billboard in the background. Sander seems to be picturing it, eyes flicking over the now-blank space. Then he turns to Robbe with a somewhat cheeky smile. “You should be on one of these buildings, too.”

Robbe snorts, surprised. “I don’t think I’ll ever have a billboard.”

Sander’s smile widens. “Nah, we could just tape you to it. You’ll hang there easily. Just set you up on a chair, get a few rolls of duct tape…” he trails off, raising his brows suggestively.

“I hate that you’ve seen those vlogs,” Robbe groans, covering his face with his hands as he laughs.

“It’s art, Robbe,” Sander mocks. “You can’t diss art.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Sander looks back at the building and hums, tilting his head. He turns to Robbe and holds up his hands, thumb and finger outstretched on each to make a frame in the air. “What about some of Antwerp’s famous graffiti for Antwerp’s famous gay…” He pauses, lost.

“Gay?” Robbe prompts.

“What rhymes with graffiti?”

Robbe laughs. “Shut up.”

“No, listen, I’m serious. Picture it,” Sander waves at the building. “A big mural, right there, in all these intense colours.”

“Rainbow colours.”

Sander snaps his fingers, though he’s biting back a laugh. “Rainbow colours!”

Robbe shakes his head and rolls his eyes slightly, and then they’re both letting out quiet laughs. Sander settles on the wall next to him again, and a warmth radiates all along his side where they’re closest. He resists the urge to press closer and lets them settle into a peaceful silence. He only breaks it when he remembers their conversation from before, and then he looks at Sander curiously. “So what did you want to talk about?”

“Oh.” Sander opens his mouth and then closes it again, hesitating. “It’s nothing.”

Robbe squints at him, skeptical. “You sure?” Sander bites his lip, glancing out over the Scheldt, and Robbe knocks their shoulders together. “Hey, whatever it is, you can talk to me about it.”

“No, it’s just,” Sander hesitates, seeming to struggle with finding the words. He looks at Robbe, and his gaze is intense and intent, and it gives Robbe no insight to what this is about. Sander eventually turns away again and simply shakes his head. “I’m just wondering what happens, after the album and everything comes out.”

“Oh.”

Sander hesitates again, shooting him a glance. “I mean, I don’t want to stop working with you guys. It’s been a lot of fun, you know? But I guess I’ll have served my purpose by then.”

“It’s not like we’re tired of you,” Robbe protests, smiling slightly, even as he desperately wracks his brain. He can’t voice his heart’s loud protests at the thought of Sander leaving. “Besides, Lucas still has all his stuff to do, and you’re not just going to head off without him, right?”

Sander’s shoulders tuck up to his ears, and his smile seems almost sad. “Right,” he agrees.

Robbe can tell that there’s something off. It’s obvious that something is being withheld, but he has no idea what it is. Sander doesn’t seem to want to say anything else, but the mood has certainly dropped. Robbe feels a frown take over even as he keeps his voice light. “We should probably get back.”

He almost thinks Sander is going to argue, but he simply smiles and nods. “Yeah. I hope Jens didn’t need any bodyguards.”

“I’m sure he’s fine.” At least, Robbe hopes he is. “And it was nice to talk, right?”

Sander’s smile turns a little more genuine. “Always.”

~^~

tag list: @allthewayornowayy @wedarkacademia @lockerfivethreefive @yellowballoon @gucciboner @nora-keinwitz @moonskam @painfully-oblivious @zoenneforever @akucecilia @hischbabe @evaksobbe @alittleemo @boring-side-effect @franboos @debussyatmidnight

part II

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Strangers (Part 4)

Summary: Sam has returned into Dean’s life for some reason and the reader is there to try and help Dean through having Sam around again...

Masterlist

Pairing: Doctor!Dean x patient!reader

Word Count: 2,000ish

Warnings: language, mention of surgery/injury

A/N: I hope you enjoy!

____

“Hi,” said Sam, giving you a quick wave. He stared at Dean who was already on his feet. “I need a place to crash for the night. If that’s okay.”

“What happened to the apartment, you were sharing with that girl, Jessica.”

“She died a few years ago,” he said.

“You kill her?” asked Dean. You got up, still holding your box of swiss rolls and Sam frowned. “You’ve been out of touch for three years. It’s not an unreasonable question.”

“I didn’t kill her,” said Sam. “I saw...it was a serial arsonist. I saw who did it and he ran with a bad group. I’ve been in witness-”

“Witness protection? Are you serious? I’m the fucking easter bunny while we’re at it,” said Dean.

“De, I think he’s telling the truth,” you said, nodding towards him. “He’s obviously upset.”

“You’ve been in witness protection? This whole time?”

“Yes,” said Sam. “Things have been happening lately. A lot of things. These guys are no longer a problem so I can come home. Except for the fact I don’t have a home anymore and had to drop out of college.”

“I filed a missing persons report on you.”

“I know.”

“I hung up flyers, search parties, fundraisers.”

“I know.”

“I drove to the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night because I thought I got a tip about you.”

“That was me. I had to relocate after that.”

“I looked for you for so long. Even when mom and dad gave up, I didn’t. There was no foul play but the cops told us it was unlikely we’d ever find you. You probably walked out and didn’t want to be found. I was so angry at you. They told us you were dead cause someone hurt you or you walked away. Those are two very different things,” said Dean. You dropped the box on the couch and grabbed his hand, Dean pinching his nose with his other. 

“I can leave if you want,” said Sam.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” said Dean. You rubbed his back and he walked over, giving his brother a hug.

“Finally got a girlfriend?” teased Sam as he returned it.

“You two are gonna get along great. You can swap stories,” laughed Dean. “Oh, I need a drink. Also how’d you get in my house?”

“My handler had a key made. They took it from your locker at the hospital,” he said.

“Lovely.”

“I know it sounds…” said Sam as he glanced at you. 

“Crazy is kind of our thing,” you said. “I’m Y/N.”

“You look familiar,” he said.

“My ex boyfriend tried to kill me. With bleach. In my drink.”

“Oh yeah. He was fucking nuts,” said Sam.

“Yup. That’s been our fun for the evening,” you said. “He got out. He’s dead now. It’s fine. Better than fine cause I’m gonna eat a whole box of swiss rolls and not feel bad about that.”

“Yeah, I will get along with you just fine,” said Sam, giving Dean a look. “Not sure about you though. I wanted to-”

“S’okay,” he said. “I’m just...happy you don’t hate me after all.”

“I wanted to call you so many times. It was too dangerous though. I couldn’t put you in that position,” said Sam.

“I’m getting kind of used to that,” said Dean. Sam smiled and you walked over to them both. 

“I crashed date night, didn’t I,” he said.

“Just a bit,” said Dean.

“Well I am really happy to meet Dean’s little brother,” you said, giving him a hug. “You don’t mind if Sam hangs out with us, right?”

“No, never. As long as you’re cool with it,” said Dean. 

“Of course,” you said.

“I appreciate it but honestly I’m wrecked. I could use with a shower and a bed,” said Sam.

“The guest room is right down the hall,” said Dean, pointing the way. “You hungry?”

“Nah. I’ll keep out of your guys hair,” said Sam. “Thanks.”

“It’s no problem,” said Dean. Sam started to head for the hallway when Dean grabbed his arm. “I’m really happy you’re home, Sammy.”

“Me too.”

He smiled before he left, Dean taking a deep breath as he locked up the front door again.

“So you got a brother,” you said.

“Yeah. I probably should have brought him up at some point,” said Dean. You shrugged and rested your hands on his hips, Dean smiling softly. “I thought he was dead.”

“I’m glad he’s not,” you said. “I’m gonna have to back out on the being roommates thing though.”

“What?” he asked.

“Sam needs it way more than I do. I can stick around my parents until my apartment is ready. Seriously, it’s okay. He’s gonna need a lot of help. Trust me. He’s gonna want you,” you said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. My parents aren’t that bad. Someday we can be roommates though?” you said.

“Okay. I’ll take a raincheck for now,” he smiled. 

“Tonight’s not so bad,” you said. He nodded and you pulled him close to your body, Dean’s arms wrapping lazily around you. “You doing okay?”

“I’ve been the happiest I’ve ever been in my life, the most terrified I’ve ever been in my life and the most relieved I’ve ever been in my life tonight. I honestly don’t know where to begin,” said Dean.

“I got a box of chocolate with your name on it that might be a good place to start.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” he said. “You okay too?”

“My night’s ending on a good note. I’m good Dean. Let’s get back to our date. I was in the middle of cuddling you if I remember.”

One Week Later

“Howdy handsome,” you said, the elevator doors at the hospital opening to Dean standing there in his navy scrubs.

“Gorgeous,” he said, giving you a quick kiss as he stepped on. “You already have your follow up with Mace?”

“Yeah. I am progressing well I guess. We’re switching my immunosuppressant to try something that doesn’t make me as tired and won’t make me as susceptible to illness,” you said.

“That’s good. I know you’re on the strong stuff right now. Mace is pretty good about finding the right med combo by the second or third try,” he said. “Transplant meds are tricky.”

“I’ve learned. How’s your day going?” you asked. “Saving lives?”

“Easy going day. Took out some tonsils on a teenager, did an appendectomy on a toddler, did a bone reset on a kid that broke her leg. Nothing they won’t all recover from 100% percent.”

“That sounds good,” you said. “When do you get off?”

He snickered and you whacked his arm.

“Such a boy,” you said.

“I have one more surgery for the day but I’m heading home after that. Our parents are coming into town. They’ve been in Florida cause their vacation plans got screwed up with the pandemic last year so they rescheduled and of course it’s this week and there’s tropical storms so they can’t get a flight out and they finally are getting home today. It’s been a nightmare. I’m supposed to cook dinner so that’ll go wonderfully.”

“You’re a good cook!” you said as the doors opened and you walked with him down the hall. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. They excited to see Sam?”

“Yeah. They feel bad about...they thought he was dead. Like it hasn’t been long enough to legally declare him that way but they were going to. I’ve always had a somewhat tense relationship with my dad. We fought a lot about Sam after he disappeared.”

“I think no matter what happened before, dinner’s gonna go good for you guys tonight,” you said.

“You’re coming right?” he asked. 

“You want me to?”

“Yeah. I...you make me feel...safe,” he said as he stopped walking. You smiled and grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers together. “You don’t have-”

“I’d love to. I really like Sam and I want to be there for you. I like that I make you feel safe, makes me feel good,” you said. He rubbed the back of his neck but you caught the smile on his face. You gave him another kiss, a whistle coming from further down the hall.

“Get a room, Winchester,” said a guy as he walked by with a laugh.

“Better be a soundproof room,” you said, the guy stopping in his tracks.

“Okay, I approve of this one,” the guy chuckled. Dean rolled his eyes but he was biting down a laugh.

“Y/N, this is RN. Lafetite or Benny as well call him. He’s Donna’s boyfriend,” said Dean.

“Oh yeah, she was great,” you said. “She removed my appendix.”

“That woman knows her way around a blade,” said Benny. “You had the digestive transplant done a while ago, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, Dean making a face beside you.

“Badass,” said Benny. “I worked with Mace some on you.”

“You’re a surgeon too?” you asked.

“No, no. I’m a surgical nurse,” he said.

“They’re pretty important,” said Dean. “The really good ones could perform minor surgeries themselves like Ben. I keep trying to convince Benny here to go to med school and join the rest of us.”

“Oh you know you’d miss me too much, Deano. You me and Novak are the dream team of pediatrics,” he said.

“Sure we are,” said Dean with a laugh. “Y/N and I were having a little get together on Sunday, watch a little football, food. Round up the usual suspects?”

“I can get the crew together. I’ll bring my beer dip and some of those pretzels. Very easy on the digestive system,” said Benny to you.

“That’s considerate,” you said. “It’s okay. I’m alright with most stuff. I just got to watch the grease a bit.”

“These are really not greasy at all. I’ll give you the recipe sometime,” said Benny as his phone went off. “I think we’re late for pre-op.”

“When are we not?” said Dean. “I’ll see you tonight, sweetheart.”

“See you later, Dean.”

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” said Dean that night as he rushed in the house. You and Sam were working the kitchen, Dean checking the clock. “They’re gonna be here in five minutes.”

“Go wash up. Sam and I can cook a few pieces of chicken and make mashed potatoes,” you said. You were nearly finished anyways, the chicken baking away in the oven. Dean made a thud down the hall but shouted back that he was fine before you heard the bathroom door shut. “He always been a worrier?”

“Pretty much,” said Sam as he got out the plates. “He seems different. Good different. More easy going.”

“It’s all I’ve ever known from him so I don’t have much to go off of,” you said. 

“You might have something to do with it,” he said. He smiled and finished up with setting the table. “You’ve never met our parents Dean said.”

“No. We’ve only been together a few months,” you said.

“This’ll be an interesting evening then,” said Sam as the doorbell rang. He suddenly looked nervous and you rubbed a hand up and down his back.

“It’ll be okay,” you said. “Trust me.”

“I see why he likes you,” said Sam. “Here goes nothing.”

______

A/N: Read Part 5 here!

[evening-starlight]

Chances {Chapter Ten}

I think this is my longest Chapter so far lmao

Master List

Tainted

Word Count: 1867

    I'll be honest with you guys, our first kiss is tainted. This chapter will explain it. I will also mention that this might be hard for some readers to read, so reader discretion is advised.

    I pray for the world to open and swallow me whole right then and there. Of course, he would show up. He has to insert himself into every wonderful thing in my life. He has to plaster his face in every corner of my mind. Tom looks over my head at the man I used to be married to. This is not how I wanted to tell Tom about who it was. I slip my hands out of Tom's and turn around to Jared.

    He smiles wickedly like I've fallen into his trap. The smile sends waves of nausea and anxiety coursing through every vein in my body. "What do you want, Jared?" He hands me a bouquet of flowers. Purple and green daisies. I cross my arms to avoid taking them. "I was thinking of you, so I bought you some flowers." Jared's attention shifts his attention to Tom behind me. "Thank you for dropping my wife off. I really appreciate it." Oh, absolutely the fuck not.

    "Jared," I snap, pushing him away from Tom so we can speak semi-privately. "Why in God's name are you here? I am not your fucking wife. I don't want your damn flowers, which you never bought me when we were together anyways. I don't want you near me." My voice rising with the anger I feel boiling inside me. "You are nothing but a horrible stain on my history that I wish I could erase. You have ruined my life from the moment you walked in with that stupid book. You are the most possessive prick I have met in my life, and I regret every minute I spent with you." Jared continues to smile down at me. He has me right where he wanted me, yelling and spewing venom.

    "I just wanted to show Tom what kind of girl you really are," He says, looking at Tom behind me. "A venomous bitch." My jaw drops to the floor when I realize I walked right into his trap. He pushes the flowers into my chest and grabs my face roughly in his hands. The kiss is forceful and possessive. I feel the bile rising in my throat the longer he keeps his lips pressed to mine.

    Jared finally pulls away, wiping his lips. "I'll see you later, Jules." He walks off like nothing volatile just happened. I have approximately five seconds before I spew popcorn all over the steps. I drop the flowers on the ground and rush to the door, slamming my keys against the sensor pad and hoping it works. The door clicks like a heavenly sign. The gold trash can next to Will's desk is the closest and safest spot for the vomit.

    "Holy shit, Stella. Are you okay?" Will asks, standing up from his desk as I empty my guts into his freshly cleaned bin after falling to my knees. Someone rests their hand on my back before pulling my hair out of my face. I wave them off.

    "Fuck off, Jared." I manage between heaves.

    "It's not Jared." Tom answers. "I want to make sure you're okay, and then I'll leave if you'd prefer." I have no energy to fight as I continue to dry heave, nothing but saliva and air coming out. Will hands me a handful of tissues as I sit back on my heels. I manage a small smile in return as I wipe my mouth.

    "Sorry, Will." I apologize.

    "Don't be. I'd rather it the trashcan than across the floor," Will jokes back. "Let me get you a water from the back." I look at Tom when Will leaves.

    "I'm sorry. Theater popcorn doesn't taste good coming back up." He shakes his head with a small laugh.

    "Don't apologize, Love. He seems like a cock." I chuckle with a nod. "I'm not going to force you to talk about it now, but I would like to understand more about that relationship." I nod. It's a fair request.

     "If you grab those stupid flowers for me, we can head up to my apartment and talk. If you want," I suggest. Tom gets up to grab the flowers as Will comes back with a cold water bottle. I trade Tom the bottle for the flowers, pushing them bud first into the bin I just hurled in. I give Will another apology and tell him I'll get him his favorite bistro next time I'm at the studio.

    Tom follows me back to the elevator silently. I have no idea what to say to him, especially after something like that. What are you supposed to say when you kiss the guy of your dreams, and your abusive ex comes by and forces one on you? Sorry I have a fucked up past I've been conveniently avoiding? I unlock my apartment door and walk in first. "You can sit anywhere. I have to go bleach my mouth." I mumble, making my way to the bathroom.

    I avoid looking at myself as I gargle mouthwash, turning my back to the mirror. I can't believe I let that happen. I should have done something other than stand there like a statue. Why couldn't I do anything other than stand there and let Jared do that? Tom must think I'm a whore.

     The mouthwash is traded out for my toothbrush and toothpaste as I continue replaying what the hell just happened. Jared showing up out of nowhere with flowers after years of saying they're meaningless because they'll just die. And of course, they were purple and green; self-centered prick was probably thinking of himself as he bought the Joker colors. I meet my own eyes in the mirror as I stand straight after spitting the toothpaste out. I have mascara tear streaks running down my cheeks. I've paled considerably enough to enhance the dark circles under my eyes. I look terminally ill.

    I fix my makeup steaks quickly before walking out to the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?" I ask Tom. "I have beer, Capri Sun, and water, but you'll have to drink out of a shot glass because the two cups I have are dirty." Tom opts for a CapriSun. I hand it to him as I sit on the opposite end of my couch. We sit in silence for a few minutes while I think of how to start talking and how much I want to tell him.

    "Your apartment is quite nice," Tom starts, looking around at all the frames I have of the band and I. "Do you play all those?" He asks, gesturing to my elevated music area by my balcony door. On it is a bass guitar, acoustic and electric guitar, along with a keyboard and violin.

    "Yeah, when my parents heard I wanted to make music because Jared was, they paid for multiple lessons. I fell in love with singing, but I can definitely shred it on bass." I joke. Tom laughs with a slight nod.

    "How old were you when you met Jared again?" Tom asks in such a casual tone it calms me down slightly. Maybe he's just worried about me. Or maybe he just wants to know where Jared went wrong so he won't make the same mistakes, good or bad.

    "I was introduced to him at fourteen." I avoid Tom's sudden worried look by looking at the floor beneath my sneakers. I should get a carpet in here. "My parents wanted to be millionaires, so they moved us all to LA when I was, like, three, I think. I don't know how they met Jared's family. They never told me, and neither did Jared.

    "Everything was really innocent at first. He was my closest friend for years. He helped me with homework and practicing my music. I wanted to be just like him." I let out a bitter laugh. "I was sixteen when I realized I like him as more than a friend. We had to share a bed in a hotel on tour, and I remember not sleeping because he was right there, and he was cuddling me. He asked me out the day of my eighteenth and proposed two months later, married two more after that. We got divorced when I was twenty when I realized how much I really did miss out on life, and he was so possessive he stopped letting me go to band practice without him.

     "The band started pointing it out too. Robbie was the one who literally slapped sense into me. Because why would I hit Robbie back and tell him off, but not Jared? So, yeah. Jared's super possessive and still is." I finish quickly, realizing I was going on a tangent.

    "And he called you Jules?" I almost wished Tom would have forgotten about that. I know it's somewhere on my Wikipedia page, but would Tom have gone that far in learning about me?

    "I've had three legal names in my life," I say, finally bringing myself to look at Tom. He seems concerned, and his eyes are so soft and welcoming I could curl up into his chest right this second. "Juliet Davis is my birth name, and I took Jared's last name when we got married. Then, about a year after our divorce, I decided to rebrand myself and use a new name entirely. Don't ask me why I chose Thompson; I googled it when I was drunk, and it just stuck. Stella is from this one kids' book I was obsessed with for years, Stellaluna. I don't know why, but I carried it everywhere with me until about junior high."

    I guess I didn't notice the tears falling or that my voice was faltering. However, Tom did. Without hesitation, he pulls me into his arms, resting his head on mine. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all that, Love," He says in a soft voice. "You didn't deserve any of that. Thank you for sharing with me." I let him hold me for a while longer. I enjoy his touch, but I really just want to be alone to cry and break shit.

    I don't know when I fell asleep; I just know when I woke up on the couch with a blanket on top of me and water on the coffee table in front of me, that Tom had taken care of me. He left a handwritten note as well, which I still have in my house. It said, 'I didn't want to leave you alone after something like tonight, but I felt it weird to stay the night uninvited. I truly appreciate you sharing something hard with me. I hope it's alright I washed a cup for you, and found some medicine as well, in case the crying caused a headache. Text me when you wake up. Much love, Tom.' Yes, I did run through the house like a crazy lady trying to find the letter so I could write it down verbatim.

[abundanceofsoph]

SkyFire 3: Chapter 2

New York & Saturday Night Live: April 2017    

Word count: 4.8k

SkyFire 3 MASTERLIST

Sorry it's been so long since the last chapter but I'm finally back at work after 75 days in lockdown. Updates will probably be a bit more spaced out than they were in Parts 1 & 2 but please know that I am still working away at it and I already have so many future chapters planned out that I'm really excited for.

This chapter is a bit of a long one and I thought about splitting it in half but figured you deserved the treat after waiting patiently.

Don't forget to leave a comment if you're enjoying the series and let me know what you think.

>Instagram posts

By the time Aurora woke up Monday morning, Harry’s side of the bed was cold, and he had long since left for the day. Since he would be appearing in multiple sketches on the upcoming episode of Saturday Night Live, he was needed for rehearsals all week. Aurora was thankful that she and the rest of the band weren’t needed until Friday and instead she was able to sleep in. Their flight had arrived in New York well after midnight and by the time they made their way to the tower they had both decided to head straight to bed. Aurora was fairly certain her father would have still been awake, working in his lab but she was far too tired for a reunion after hours on a plane.

Once she managed to roll herself out of bed and get dressed for the day ahead, Aurora made her way down the hall to the open plan kitchen/living area of the penthouse with its wide, floor to ceiling wall of windows looking out over the sprawling expanse of Central Park. Both Tony and Steve were sitting on the stools at the kitchen’s island bench, waiting for their daughter to wake up. Steve had seen Harry earlier that morning as he was leaving, and Steve had been coming back from his early morning run. Both he and Tony were eager to have their daughter home for an entire week and while Steve was happy to sip on his tea and read the morning while they waited, Tony was practically vibrating in his seat with barely contained excitement. Steve’d had to stop him twice from having JARVIS ‘accidentally’ wake Aurora up, so Tony was unsurprisingly the first out of his seat when she finally appeared.

Aurora was grinning widely and broke into a fit of giggles as her father rushed over and lifted her off the ground in a crushing hug. Despite having seen each other only two weeks ago, the craziness of the wedding hadn’t really allowed them much time to just hang out together and prior to the wedding they had spent a solid 5 months apart given the last minute changes to their Christmas plans in the wake of Johannah’s death.

“Missed you Dad,” she said, returning the tight hug.

“Missed you too Kiddo,” Tony replied, finally setting her back on her feet and allowing her to cross the room and fall into Steve’s arms.

The small family spent the entire day together, watching a movie and then moving down to Tony’s workshop in the afternoon so that he could work on a prototype for Stark Industries while Steve and Rori sketched on the sofa. It was reminiscent of how they had spent many evenings shortly after Rori first came to live with her fathers, the memories of those long nights brought a soft smile to her face as she sketched Dumm-e and Butterfingers, where they were attempting to help Tony, but instead were causing more problems than they were able to solve. Harry found them all there when he arrived back to the tower later that evening, grinning excitedly as he launched into his recounting of his first day with the SNL cast.

xXx

Since first meeting her father’s childhood best friend, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, three years ago, Aurora had slowly come to see him as a member of the family. For the first year that they had both lived in the tower together, they had coexisted amicably but had been far from friends, nothing close to the way Aurora was with the rest of the team. Even as her relationship with Sam had flourished quickly as he acclimatized to life as an Avenger she had struggled to be around Bucky. He hadn’t held her distant behaviour against her, knowing that while most of the team had been able to separate the actions of the Winter Soldier from Bucky himself, Aurora had struggled to accept into her home the man who had tried, on several occasions, to assassinate one of her fathers. Following the Columbia Shooting, she had surprised him by seeking him out during her recovery and their friendship had bloomed after her amputation surgery. Now, many years later Bucky easily filled the role of another uncle in Aurora’s life, a shift that had made Steve overwhelmingly happy.

It was late Tuesday afternoon and Steve went in search of his daughter, having not seen her since they’d shared lunch together. He expected to see her in the workshop with Tony, however his husband said he hadn’t seen her since breakfast. With the help of JARVIS he finally found her on one of the lower floors, the one shared by Sam, Bucky and Rhodey when he was in town. She was in the living room sitting across the table from Bucky, a game of Battleship between the pair. Steve suppressed a chuckle as he joined the pair, well aware by now of how much his best friend and his daughter enjoyed playing a variety of tabletop games together. Many arguments had been started over a game of backgammon or canasta.

“Who’s winning?” he asked, pulling up a chair beside Aurora and throwing an arm around her shoulders.

“I’m kicking his ass,” she smiled.

“She’s getting cocky,” Buck replied, “and it’s going to backfire on her in a minute.”

“Of course it is,” Aurora said, her tone dripping in sarcasm.

The game continued for a while, Aurora cheering and taunting when she sunk another of Bucky’s ships, mocking him mercilessly when he continued to miss her own turn after turn.

“I don’t understand why you always beat me,” he moaned when she won. “I mean surely your luck has to run out eventually.”

“It’s not luck, Bucky,” Rori laughed. “It’s about strategy and reading your opponent and I hate to tell you, but you are entirely predictable.”

“I’ll have you know I’m an excellent battle strategist,” Bucky retorted.

“Apparently you’re not,” Aurora bit back, a wide smile gracing her face. Steve let out a loud peel of laughter at their bickering.

“Excuse me,” JARVIS interrupted. “Miss Stark, you requested that I alert you when young Mr Styles returned to the tower.”

“Thanks J,” Rori replied, kissing her fathers’ cheek and jumping to her feet, ready to head towards the elevator.

“Miss Stark?” Steve asked.

“He said that Dad programmed him to call me that and no marriage certificate is gonna change it,” Rori explained with a roll of her eyes. “Dad could probably get him to stop but honestly I like it. I didn’t get to be a Stark for very long so it’s nice to be one when I come home.”

“You’ll always be a Stark, bug,” Steve promised, returning the kiss on her cheek and watching as she left the room in search of Harry on the upper floors of the Tower.

“Enjoying having her home?” Bucky asked.

“Absolutely,” Steve answered. “I miss her when she’s not here. Tony does too, even if he won’t admit it. She grew up too fast on us.”

“Can’t have been easy not meeting her until she was practically all grown up,” Bucky pointed out.

“No, you’re right,” Steve agreed. “Sometimes I wish we’d got to raise her, but I’d also never want to have taken away any of the time she got with her mom.”

“You and Tony ever think of having another kid?”

“We’ve talked about,” Steve said. “It’s not very easy process. The worlds come a long way since the 40’s Buck, but it’s still hard for two men to adopt. It certainly doesn’t help that we’ve got such dangerous jobs.”

“Guess that makes sense,” Bucky replied. “Never known you to back down from something just because it’s hard or because someone tells you no, though.”

“You might have a point there. Seems we’ve managed to accidently adopt Peter over the years so maybe we’re just meant to keep collecting teenagers.”

xXx

Something Aurora loved about the city was the way that New Yorkers didn’t care about anyone around them. Everyone was busy getting from one place to another and had very little time or care to look at those surrounding them on the crowded sidewalks. Aurora could easily wander the streets without being hassled as she went about her day. Occasionally a tourist would recognize her, but more often than not, a large pair of sunglasses and a hat pulled low would hide her enough to avoid all but the most astute fan. She wore a loose oversized cardigan which hung over the tips of her fingers completely concealing her prosthetic hand as she headed through the streets of midtown Manhattan, her hands full of shopping bags as she walked back towards Avengers Tower. She could have halved the time to get home by taking the subway, but the weather was nice, so she enjoyed the walk, reaching the towers lobby a little after 2 in the afternoon.

By the time she stepped out of the elevator and into the penthouse, she noted Steve, Clint and Bucky sprawled out on the sofas in front of the tv. She dropped her shopping bags onto the floor and launched herself onto the sofa cushion next to Steve, curling herself into his side as his arm fell around her shoulders, hugging her tightly against him.

“Where’ve you been all day?” he asked.

“Went shopping,” Rori explained.

“Do I want to know?” he asked with a soft chuckle.

“I bought wigs.”

“Why on earth are you buying wigs?” Clint butted in.

“Because with the tour coming up,” Rori said, “I want to try out some different hair colours, but I’ve never bleached my hair before and I’m honestly terrified of ruining my hair. So, wigs.”

“Do we get a fashion show?” Steve asked.

“Maybe later,” she mumbled, yawning widely before resting her head back against Steve’s shoulder and staring, glazed eyes at the tv.

xXx

The following day, Sam found Rori sitting alone against one of the large windows, hugging her knees tightly against her chest as she stared out over the city.

“Hey, you,” he said as he took a seat next to her on the floor. “You ok?”

“Yeah I’m good,” she replied, her voice soft and a little distant, her gaze remaining on the view spread out beneath them.

“Remember when you promised me you wouldn’t lie about how you were feeling,” Sam reminded her.

She sighed, her shoulders sagging and her head leaning forward to rest against the cold glass. “I had a panic attack last week,” she mumbled.

“When you got home to London?” he asked.

She shook her head. “On the last day of our honeymoon. This thunderstorm came rolling in out of nowhere the day before we flew home, and I just freaked out and ruined everything. I thought I was getting better.”

“You are getting better,” Sam argued. “This is the first panic attack you’ve had in months. That’s a huge improvement.”

“But I thought they were gone,” Rori sobbed. “I was just starting to feel normal again but I’m never going to be like I was.”

“No, you’re not,” he agreed. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but PTSD isn’t something you just get over. It’s going to be with you for the rest of your life, but that doesn’t have to mean there’s anything wrong with you and I’m sure Harry didn’t think you ruined the trip.”

“Of course he didn’t, he’s Harry,” she said. “He’s always so supportive and just wants to help me through it. It’s not even really about last week,” she admitted. “It’s more about what it says about the rest of the year. The rest of my life. When Harry asked me to join his band, I was terrified that somehow, I would do something to ruin it all, like that somehow my prosthetic would malfunction, and I’d ruin a show. Now I’m wondering what will happen if I have a panic attack at a show? There are so many things that can go wrong, and he’s worked so hard for all of this. I’ll never forgive myself if I do anything to damage that.”

“What happens if Mitch slips over in the rain and breaks his hand and can’t play the guitar? What if Sarah gets the flu and has to sit out a few shows? What if something happens with Adams kids and he has to leave the tour?” Sam asked. “There are so many what ifs and things that can go wrong but did you notice how none of those things had anything to do with anyone’s disabilities? There are things in your life that are going to be more challenging for you than they would have been if you hadn’t been shot. You can’t let that stop you from living. I’m sure Harry and Jeff have all kinds of plans in place for what happens if one of you gets sick and can’t perform, so maybe you should talk to them about your concerns and you can have some plans in place and that will help with the anxiety of it all.”

“You know I really hate when you’re right Sam,” Aurora mumbled, the corners of her lips twitching.

“I know,” he smirked. “But one of these days you’ll learn to accept that I’m never wrong.”

Aurora stuck her tongue out at him before letting out a tired sigh. “I’m just so exhausted. Like, my brain just never stops stressing over these tiny little things and it’s so exhausting to constantly be worrying about everything. I mean Christ, I chipped my nail polish at lunch and it’s all I’ve been able to think about for the last few hours which is ridiculous because who cares if my nail polish is chipped, but I’m going to be on live tv in two days and what if they want a shot of my hands while I’m playing and it’s not like I have time to go get them redone now.”

“Why not just tell the camera operators not to set up that shot?” Sam asked, always the rational voice.

“Yeah,” Rori nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Having said his piece, Sam stood up after giving her shoulder a quick squeeze and then walked away, leaving her to think about what he’d said. She was still sitting on the floor beside the window deciding how to bring her anxieties to Harry without adding to his already full plate when Nat appeared beside her. “Heard you could do with a manicure,” she said.

She extended her hand, helping Aurora up off the floor and then led her to the elevator and down to her personal floor. Nat didn’t press Aurora to talk as they settled down in her living room and set about removing the chipped polish from the nails of her right hand. Rori was grateful for the silence, not sure that she had the energy to carry a conversation but also glad that she wasn’t alone. Where others in the tower felt that they needed to distract her from her anxiety, it was always Nat that provided what she needed without her ever having to ask. Her thoughts whirled in her head as Nat applied the new pale yellow polish to her nails in slow, methodical strokes, Sam’s advice echoing in Aurora’s ears.  

“You seem stressed,” Nat finally said as she finished the topcoat on the last nail.

“Just nervous about the show on Saturday,” Rori replied softly. “Live TV doesn’t leave any room for error.”

“I’m sure you’ll all do great,” Nat promised with a warm smile. “Now lay back and I’ll do a face mask and help you relax. You’re way too tense for a 22 year old.”

Aurora did as she was told without argument, laying back and closing her eyes as Nat spread the cool clay over her face and then she started massaging her long fingers into Rori’s scalp. Once the mask was finished and Nat had cleaned it away with a warm cloth, she set about rubbing moisturizer onto Rori’s face, soothing the pinched muscles between the younger woman’s brow until she fell asleep under Nat’s hands.  

When Harry arrived back at the tower a little over an hour later he found most of the team in the penthouse, however his wife was conspicuously absent from the group. He asked JARVIS if she was downstairs in either of the studios, his brow furrowing when the AI informed him that she was in Agent Romanoff’s private quarters and he headed for the elevator.

Nat was sitting on the other sofa across from where Rori was sleeping peacefully, a book in hand when JARVIS’ voice filled the room and she was thankful that she had asked the AI to lower its volume when Aurora had fallen asleep.

“Mr. Styles is requesting access to your floor Agent Romanoff,” JARVIS announced in a hushed whisper.

“Tell him to come in,” Nat replied in an equally soft tone.

A few moments later, the elevator doors opened at the end of the hall and Harry strolled into the room, his eyes immediately falling to his sleeping wife. “Hey,” he whispered to Nat. “Everything ok here?”

“She was getting a bit anxious about Saturday, so we had a bit of a spa day to help her calm down,” Nat explained.

Harry nodded and then headed over to the sofa, sitting on its edge next to Aurora’s hip and reached out to trace his hand along her cheekbone. “Rors?” he soothed. “Time to wake up love.” As she began to stir, Nat left the room allowing the couple to have some privacy.

“You’re home,” Rori mumbled, her voice thick with sleep and a soft smile lifting the corners of her lips. “Missed you today.”

“Heard you had a bad day,” Harry said, pulling her up and into a tight hug. “Sorry I wasn’t here.”

“S’ok,” she replied as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck. “Just got in my head a bit and spiralled.”

“Feeling better now?”

“Much,” she promised. “Always feel better when you’re here.”

“Mitch text me about 20 minutes ago that their flight landed so they’ll be here soon. Wanna come upstairs with me? Think Steve’s cooking a massive dinner.”

Aurora nodded her head and laced her fingers through Harry’s as the headed for the elevator doors.

xXx

Aurora tried to hold back her anxiety as she walked through the door with Harry, Jeff and the rest of the band Friday morning. She knew she was doing a poor job of it when Harry squeezed her hand tightly in an attempt to comfort her. She was angry at herself for her nervousness, knowing that she had performed on bigger stages in front of live audiences in the past, but she couldn’t seem to overcome the fear that she would make a mistake that would make Harry look bad. She could always deal with embarrassing herself, but the idea of screwing up everything that Harry had worked for was what truly made her terrified.

The set was a blur of activity and Harry led them down the halls towards the set where their equipment had been set up. Sarah headed straight to her drum kit and the boys picked up their guitars while Rori and Harry walked over to where the keyboards where a grand piano was waiting for her.  

“You look like you’re going to be sick babe,” Harry said. He kept his voice low, whispering in his wife’s ear as she sat down on her bench seat, not wanting draw anyone’s attention to their conversation. “I know you’re going to nail this. Just gotta trust me.”

“I know,” she replied. “God anxiety is such a bitch.” Harry chuckled at her little outburst and then he kissed the top of her head before walking over towards the microphone stand.

They spent the rest of the day running through the two songs they would perform the following evening. They discussed the lighting and camera set ups, making sure that everyone in the band and the crew knew exactly where they would stand and which way the equipment would move during the live broadcast. Occasionally they would take breaks for Harry to go work on the sketches he would be appearing in or they would stop so that Aurora could remove her prosthetic for a while. In the year since she had started wearing the prosthetic hand, Tony and Peter had redesigned the original many times, constantly upgrading and improving it’s coding to make it easier for her to wear for longer periods of time. Despite these upgrades, she still found it hard to wear for too long and after about 4 hours of prolonged use she would start to get horrible tension headaches from the transmitting device she wore behind her left ear. It was for this reason that the majority of their soundchecks were happening on Friday so that Aurora wouldn’t be required to play before the show was ready to go to air. She was always uncomfortable whenever plans had to change in order to accommodate her disability, but Harry had  assured her repeatedly over the course of the week that it was not a big deal and that they wouldn’t have been needed much on Saturday afternoon anyway, so it wasn’t even that much of a change to the schedule.

By the end of the day, Aurora was exhausted. They had taken plenty of breaks throughout the day, but she knew that she had definitely pushed herself, never wanting to be the one to call for a break and know she was paying for it. She had her prosthetic off and stuffed into her bag before they even reached the car that would take them all the few short blocks back to the tower.  She sat in the back seat beside Harry and let her head fall against his shoulder, closing her eyes for the quick 10 minute drive.

“You alright love?” Harry asked quietly as they pulled up in the underground carpark of the tower.

She hummed in response, letting him lead her out of the car and into the waiting elevator. “Just tired,” she promised. “It was a long day.”

“It was,” Harry agreed, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. “Went great though. Think tomorrow’s going to be amazing.”

Aurora wasn’t the only one who was tired and after such a long day of rehearsals, everyone in the band was happy to return to the tower, the inviting smells of dinner greeting them as they stepped out of the elevator to see the entire team crowded around the dining table, waiting for them. Aurora’s eyes lit up as she saw Peter at the table and immediately rushed over to him, pulling him out of his seat and into a hug, her exhaustion evaporated in the wake of seeing him again for the first time since they’d arrived back in town.

“God, where have you been all week?” she asked.

“Sorry been busy with school and patrols,” Peter replied. “I usually only have time to come over Friday nights and on the weekends.”

“Lucky we’re not leaving till Monday then,” Rori smiled. “Otherwise I wouldn’t get to spend any time with you at all. Now talk to me, how’s it feel to almost be finished with High School?”

Harry watched them with an amused smile as they sat next to each other, talking excitedly about Peter’s upcoming graduation and which colleges he had been accepted to. They barely stopped talking throughout the entire meal, completely oblivious to anyone else at the table. Harry hadn’t spent a great deal of time around Peter, given how much time he had spent on the road with One Direction or off filming Dunkirk while Aurora had still been living in the tower full time, but it didn’t really take a lot of time to understand why Tony, Steve and Rori had all rushed to absorb Peter into their little family. He was such a nice kid, always energetic and excited about anything going on everyone’s lives and he was joy to be around. He had so seamlessly fit into the family dynamic that everyone considered him a Stark in all bar name. Harry had once asked Rori about his place in the team, and she had smiled brightly, explaining how happy she was that while she and Steve had always had their art to bond over, she was relieved that Tony now had someone that could keep up with him in the lab and that he could teach Peter and watch him improve. She’d always wanted a little brother and now she had one in Peter. Tony and Steve had already experienced the emotional minefield of establishing parental roles without stepping on the memory of Rori’s mother, to it had been so easy for them to find a way to fill those same roles with Peter over the last few years without diminishing May’s place in his life or erasing the importance of Peter’s parents. The Avenger’s had always been a messy, happy, found family, and with the addition of Peter and May, and then with Mitch, Adam and Sarah, the family just seemed to keep expanding and Harry could see how much Aurora loved having each and everyone of them crowded into the penthouses dining room.

xXx

Saturday was a blur of activity and rushing around, and before Aurora realised someone was yelling that they were going live in 10 minutes. She was sitting out of the way with Sarah on one side of her and Adam on the other, waiting for their time to perform. Harry was off getting ready for the first sketch and they had a small tv hanging on the wall nearby so that they could watch the show while they waited. The first half of the show went off without a hitch and all four of them simply tried to keep out of everyone’s way until a technician came over to heard them towards the set. They were all situated behind their instruments by the time Harry joined them and he quickly ducked over to Rori for a good luck kiss before taking his place at the mic stand and waiting for the signal to start. One of Aurora’s knees was bouncing beneath the piano and there was a slight tremor in her right hand as she closed her eyes and took a few deep breathes on the darkened set. She tuned out the camera’s and the studio audience, her attention narrowing down to her instrument and Harry a few steps in front of her as she began the opening chords of the song. For a few brief seconds her piano was the only sound as the lights began to lift, and Harry’s voice rang out through the studio. As they hit the pre-chorus Rori and Sarah added their voices to the mix and then all of the other instruments joined as they entered the chorus. All of Aurora’s nerves disappeared as Harry belted out the lyrics of the chorus, and in the brief moment right before the second verse he turned, catching her eye and winking before returning to the microphone. In the final lines of the song, right in the middle of the most difficult notes, Aurora heard Harry’s voice falter and he missed a line. She tried to hide a grimace, knowing that he would be kicking himself for slipping at the end of the song. The moment the camera’s cut away she was at his side, arms wrapped tightly around his waist and he pecked her lips quickly. She attempted to comfort him before he was quickly whisked away to change into the costume for the next sketch.

By the time they returned to their little set for their second song Harry appeared to have shaken off the slip up and everyone, including Aurora, was buzzing with adrenaline and ready to go with their second performance. This time the grand piano was gone, and Aurora’s keyboard was positioned behind Harry’s spot at the centre of the stage. With all the sketches out of the way, Aurora watched happily as Harry allowed himself to enjoy the performance. As they finished the song and the audience cheered, Harry quickly pulled his guitar strap over his head and walked over to where Rori was seated behind the keys. He cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her softly. “That one was for you my love,” he whispered as their lips separated.

“So proud of you,” she whispered in reply. “You absolutely killed it tonight.”

NEXT CHAPTER

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[shannygoatgruff]

My Brother’s Keeper - Chapter III

Genre: Psychological Thriller

Modern Ivar X Modern Hvitserk

Rating: MA

Overall Warning:  Dark story told from an emotionally distributed person’s POV with graphic and sadistic material including rape, terror, torture, kidnapping, drug use, slash, implied incest, necrophilia and insecurity. Heavy trigger warnings.  

Chapter Warning: Mild violence

Summary: Mama always said to be their brothers’ keeper. Now there is absolutely nothing these two won’t do for each other.  Boys will be boys…

Chapter III

How can I describe my baby brother?  He has to be the most together person I know. God, there are so many things about him that I admire.  Of course, I’d never tell him that; he’d probably think I was weak or something.  

Ivar is the kind of guy that rolls up his sleeves and does what needs to be done, no matter what the situation. If the bills need to be paid, Ivar finds the money. If there's a highly stressful situation at work, he jumps in, gets everybody to the shut the fuck up, and settles the uneasiness. He just has this knack – this talent for manipulating things.  It’s like he sees everything from every angle and then plans accordingly - he always has a plan for every possible scenario. 

He is always prepared. If I lose control, he's right there with a gentle voice and warm arms to make everything better. If evidence needs to cleared, he's always equipped with a bottle of bleach or a deep trench…it doesn't matter. He just always seems to know what to do.

He takes care of me; which is strange because I’m his older brother.  I don't complain about it. I accept our dynamics. Honestly, I like being taken care of by him. I'm sure in some way I take care of him, too, but I don't know exactly how. He never grumbles about it, though. He likes to be in charge. He thrives on being in control of things. He's not controlling by any means, people just naturally defer to his power. We all seem to do without even realizing it. That's probably the most attractive thing about him. When Ivar's in control, I feel safe.

He's always the funniest guy in the crowd and the smartest guy at the party. He's the guy that all the ladies want to get to know. He's well-traveled, well cultured, interesting, mysterious…he's someone that everyone wants to be like and they all want to be liked by him. I think that's why we get along so well; he's everything I'm not. I see so many qualities in him that I wish I had. But I know if I did, our relationship wouldn’t be as strong as it is today.

Having a lot of brothers is hard.  With so much testosterone in the house, you always have to compete. That’s why Ivar has always been my favorite.  With him, there was never a competition.  I’ve always known where I stood with him. He’s always known it, too. 

See, he has always had this charisma about him.  I don’t know exactly what it is, but he has this sort of presence that commands your attention.  Since the day he was born, he held my parents' attention, that’s for sure. He especially had Mother wrapped around his little finger.  She seemed to almost forget about the rest of us as soon as she saw him.  She spent every waking hour with him, catering to his every whim.  He could do nothing wrong in her eyes.  

When he got a little older and Mother wasn’t around, gradually, we all started to see Ivar as she did. If he wanted something, we wanted him to have it.  There is nothing in the world more beautiful than seeing my little brother happy.  

When he’s happy he’s gentle, nurturing, and the embodiment of love.  He’s the best of our parents.  His smile is like a slice of heaven that I want to keep for myself and protect from the rest of the world.  If I could, I would make him smile every day.  He makes me feel complete. I can't describe it. No matter what we're doing, I just feel safest when I’m around Ivar. 

That is until he gets angry. 

Ivar doesn't get angry often and almost never at me. But when he does, I know to stay the fuck out of his way. That's why it's so bad tonight. He's pissed but I just can't let him go off like he normally does. Not while Thora's here.

I don't think she hears him walking the hall. I hardly do him until I look at the bottom of the door and see his shadow. I know he won't come in here. He doesn't like Thora and she's not that fond of him. But if I don't go talk to him, he's going to go off and that'll scare the shit out of her. I can't let that happen.

"I'll be right back." I roll over and kiss her neck noticing the way she smiles innocently at me. She readjusts the pillows until she's the hugging one like she was hugging me. "Tell me what I missed." For some reason, I'm really into this episode of Prodigal Son. 

"Okay." She's not really listening to me. She's too interested in what's going on on the television. "Bring me back some ice cream? Two scoops of chocolate…"

I nod. I know what she's going to say next, and yet she still feels the need to remind me. "With chocolate Jimmie's on top." A smile creeps on my face when she scrunches her nose at me. I would do anything to see her smile. If only this conversation with Ivar was going to be as easy as a bowl of fucking ice cream.

By the time I make it down the stairs Ivar is sitting at the table with his arms folded and his lips in a snarl. I haven't seen him this pissed off in a very long time and the worst part is that I know that it's because of me. My steps are quiet in the kitchen and I'm trying my best not to make my presence known. But before my hand touches the freezer door, Ivar moves his chair.

"Why the fuck is she here?" His voice is calm, but it's only a matter of time before it gets louder. He's close enough to me that I can feel his breath on my neck. "You knew that we were supposed to go out tonight. We had plans, Hvitserk."

I don't understand his hatred of Thora. She's such a sweet girl. But I also know that I can't tell him that or that’ll upset him more. "I didn't know she was coming. She just showed up."

"Well, now she can just fucking leave." There's an eerie calm in his voice.  When I turn around to look at him, his blue eyes are cold. He doesn't mean what he's saying; I know that, but it still hurts to know that he hates my girl so much. 

But, there’s something more behind in his words tonight. Ivar doesn't take it well when he doesn’t get his way.  Since we were little, he doesn’t really doesn’t know how to handle the word no. More than that, anything standing in the way of him and his hunger is an obstacle that needs to be removed. With me, the hunger is like a gnawing in my gut that won't go away until I feed it. It's enough to drive me crazy but it's never debilitating. With Ivar it's all-consuming.

"I'm not telling her to leave, Ivar." I'm not afraid of him. I don't know how I just know that he won't ever hurt me. But I also know where the line is with him and I don't cross it. He just needs to be reminded sometimes that I have a life outside of partying. "I think I need to stay home tonight."

He moves over to the table calmly. This is just the beginning. My eyes close on their own somehow knowing the fate of the vase sitting there. I don't flinch when it crashes against the cabinets over the sink. I know that he needs to let out his frustration and since he won't do on me, the closest object at hand gets his wrath. I wish I could comfort him, but he's not the type that takes to comfort. He's not like me. He doesn't need someone to help him through the hunger or the guilt. He needs to work through this on his own.

"Fine. Then we'll all stay here." There's a condescending tone in his voice and the smirk on his face, as he makes his way to the stairs, makes my heart race. Somehow, I manage to move fast enough to the stairs that I’m just behind him and I touch his arm. I know that look in his eyes and my heart goes out to him because of it. I feel bad for him because he's in pain right now, but I refuse to let him touch Thora.

He pulls his arm away as soon as I touch it, however my hand goes to cradle his face and he lets me.  I look him in the eyes, "Ivar, don't.  Please?"

He runs his hand through his dark brown hair right before he punches the wall. "Why is she so different? I need this." His voice gets louder and this demented smile crosses his lips. He doesn't care that he's breaking the rules. Thora is never supposed to be touched.

I knew from the first time I saw her that she needed me.  Ivar and I were in a bar on college night looking for somebody young to party with. She looked so innocent waiting for her friend, like a good little church girl, and not the kind we fantasize about breaking. She wasn't interested in the guy that was trying to get her to leave with him, but he didn't seem to care. 

I can spot a guy like me from a mile away. He's the type that always has an intense look and smiles at just the right moment. He does little things, like brushes his hand across an arm, stands too close, and never takes no for an answer. I had never taken a woman against her will and I wasn't going to let him do that to her either. She seemed so relieved when I slid next to her and put my arm around her shoulder. That innocent look of gratitude was all I could concentrate on and I knew from that moment she needed me.

It didn't take long before that guy's face met the top of the bar and his shoulder separated when I pinned his arm behind his back. It didn't matter that Thora was scared only that she needed protection. And for the past year, I've been the one that protects her against everything. Nothing will ever hurt her as long as I'm around.

"You know why I'm with her." Ivar knows not to question me about Thora. He knows the plan.

I hate when he laughs at me. It doesn't happen often but it's the one way I know that he disapproves. "You really think you can stop, Serk? Do you actually think that little whore upstairs is enough to keep you calm? You're fucking delusional."

I don't care what he says. Whenever this hunger is finally settled, I want a normal life. I want a life like Father had with his first wife. I want a family and a house with a white picket fence. I wanna be the dad to take my kids to the park and drive across the country on family vacations. This thing…this hobby of ours, this life that we share, it's only temporary. One day I'll get my fill. I can feel it each time I feed it; I know what it feels like to be satisfied. I just have to feed it and keep feeding it until it goes away permanently. It'll happen and when it does, Thora is the woman that I'm going to have that other life with.

"Hvitserk?" Thora's voice is faint but I can hear her moving across the floor. I know she's scared and the panic in her voice is enough to make me plead with Ivar's eyes. She's afraid of Ivar; she's fucking petrified of him. I don't know why because she's never met him, not that she wants to. She only hears about him through me and of course when he blows a gasket like he's doing now. The side of him she knows about is the side that slams doors and throws shit around. She knows about the side of him that yells and curses and tries his best to take me away from her. It's no coincidence that he's like that whenever she's around, either. I think he only gets like that because he thinks she's trying to change me.

"She takes care of me, Ivar." I know that look of sympathy on Ivar's face well. It's not sympathy for her, it's sympathy for me. He knows how hard this is for me and that I hate choosing between them. I love them both and I don't like it when they put me in the middle.

"No, Serk. I take care of you." His eyes soften and so does the hardened look on his face. His fingers lovingly touch my cheek and he offers me a sad smile. “That’s my job.”

"Please, Ivy?" He brushes past me on the stairs and slams the front door behind him so hard that the pane of glass cracks. I know I hurt him but it wasn't intentional. I'll make it up to him later. Maybe tomorrow we can get two, one to make up for tonight.

Only her toes are visible on the top of the stairs, almost like she's trying to hide in the shadows. She wants to check on me, I know because that's the type of person she is. But her fear of Ivar will keep her from coming down. "Hvitserk, are you okay?"

With each step I climb more of her body comes into view. Everything from her pink painted toes to her strong bare calves and thighs barely hidden under the hem of my t-shirt tells me that I made the right decision. Her chest heaves while she tries to steady her nerves but the tears in her eyes are a dead giveaway. She's afraid for me. "I'm fine."

"Ivar's mad again, huh?" Her hand trembles as she reaches out to touch my shoulder. "Should I leave?"

I shake my head at her and put my arms around her. "No. It's fine. He was pissed but he's over it."

"Just like he got over the last time he got pissed?" She lifts my hand to her eyes and stares at the healing bite marks. I don't have the heart to tell her the truth, that Ivar didn't do that to me. She wouldn't believe it anyway. If I told her she'd be afraid and I couldn't take it if she were afraid of me. "He scares me, Hvitserk."

"I won't let him hurt you." Just feeling her cling to me with her fear curbs the hunger within me that I've been trying to ignore. No. I made the right choice. I want to take care of her more than I want to feed.

Thora needs me right now and I can always feed my hunger tomorrow.

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[mysterylover123]

Mysterylover watches Bleach episodes 116-117

mysterylover123

1. So Aizen has now lost the glasses and is sitting on a big dramatic throne. So we can all agree he’s gone full evil emperor now. And hOLY SHIT did Ulqui just REMOVE HIS OWN EYE and turn it into sparkling dust?! That’s one scary superpower you got dude.

2. OOH the guy with the blue hair and the skull face? HE’S ALSO HERE NOW. I wondered about him. And I love him instantly since he immediately tells them ‘dude why don’t ya just shoot him’. I LOVE HIM IMMEDIATELY.

3. OK in like two seconds I’ve decided that Blue Hair and Ulqui are my two new favorites and I want them to be the new main villain duo and be shipped like crazy. I love them both so much already after a two minute conversation.

4. I read that this episode is mixed filler, so I assume that these fanservice shenanigans with the squad are filler. Rangiku staying with Orihime sounds amazing though. 

5. WHOA Tatsuki sitting alone in short shorts brooding. She’s pretty. Orihime is sitting alone brooding about how cool Rukia is. She says she’s jealous of her. Oh dammit. Not a damn love triangle (this is anime. you can both date him. while dating Tatsuki and Renji. there are no rules).

6. Rangiku wants to bathe with Hime? OK she’s officially joined Hime’s harem now. AND HIME is still sad about how cool Rukia is. Holy shit she’s really upset about this. 

7. ORIHIME STOP FUCKING CRYING OMG ICHIRUKI IS MAKING HER SO SAD. Rangiku hugs her while in the nude wow. Hime go and embrace your lesbian side. 

8. Rangiku also tells her it’s OK to be herself and that “ichigo needs both you and Rukia”. Wow they’re starting to become the OT3 then?

9. BLUE HAIR IS HERE OMG. Yas go be our villain for this arc. Though your entourage of half mask guys are completely forgettable in comparison so I assume they’re just fodder. 

10. LOL Rukia wants to stay in Ichigo’s closet again. Why? And Renji is staying with Urahara again like in the filler. And Rangiku likes Orihime’s cooking?! Wow she really is being super shippable with her right away. (everyone falls for Orihime eventually). 

11. Just as a note I’m coming to really like this OP. It might overtake the first one for my favorite. 

12. Our current squad’s Spider Senses are tingling. And Rukia instantly figures out exactly what they’re doing cause she smart. Chad’s the first on the hit list

13. So I wonder what exactly is going on with the spiritual pressure in humans and these Arrancar trying to eliminate them? Is it some sort of shift in the nature of normal humanity? I know Ulqui, Grimmjow (who I am calling by his real name too now since I like him) and The Evil Emperor (Aizen because he is no longer Glasses Douche) are afraid that the Good Guys will eventually be strong enough to eliminate them (because Grimmjow is Genre Savvy and knows that the MCs will eventually be a threat) but in-universe it hasn’t really been stated why things are changing. I’m curious if that’ll make for a cool fight.

14. Chad is mad that Ichigo’s dumping him. Rukia then decides she’s gonna kick some ass. PLEASE DO RUKI. I’VE BEEN WAITING TO SEE YOU KICK ASS FOR SOOOOO LONG. 

15. Nice of this villain to stand aside and let Ichigo and Rukia dispense exposition for a really long time. I mean, it is anime rules. Villains let the heroes power up for as long as it takes. Though if I may quote “If I had a watch I’d be tapping it really condescendingly right now.”

16. THANK GOD the fight finally started. Rukia vs this villain dude. GO RUKI.  And her sword’s name! Holy crap did we not get this before? 

17. THIS IS SO BADASS  OMG RUKIA YAS IT’S ABOUT TIME YOU GOT TO OWN SOMEONE. And WTF is Ruki’s weird Gigai doing? Why is she breaking Ichi’s arms. 

18. OH YES ICHIGO AND RUKIA GOT GRIMMJOW YAAAS OF COURSE THEY GOT THE BEST ONE. Please please please fight him OMG. (Though he actually seems competent though so please don’t die doing it.)

19. Renji is fighting some blond villain. And we follow some guy who I probably should recognize but don’t. OK. And a soul reaper with an afro. OK. 

20. And Discount Saitama is fighting a villain with a whole dual face motif going. (Ok his name is Ikkaku, I’m supposed to remember it). OK so these two episodes were mostly setup but good setup.I’m honestly impressed tho that they actually acknowledged the difference in tactics of Cheering up Ichigo between Orihime and Rukia tho. Like normally in shonen it’s just kinda expected/accepted that the MC’s love interest just sits on the sidelines and never really helps him out because, you know. Girl. But here it’s like, actually thought about and explored with Orihime’s character? As a like, a thing that bothers her? Like, wow. Anyway, this arc is amazing so far. LOVE this new villain. I can see why he’s a fan favorite. 

[shadowofmytime]

>> some of my absolute favorites ! like and reblog if you save and enjoy ! happy reading and give some kudos to these amazing writers ! always feel free to send me some of your favorites ! ! <<

>> There is a bit so for your convenience they are in alphabetical order ! The ‘s’s are some of my all-time favorites ! ! <<

>> min yoongi x park jimin <<

All the seasons of your love - 5k+ [college au]

The movement in the library was still slow in the first week, so Yoongi could easily remember the few people who came by. That's why he pays so much attention to a certain dark-haired freshman who walks in on a Wednesday afternoon - or at least that's what he tells himself. He goes over to the front counter and asks Yoongi for directions to the Economy 101 session and, God, his voice is as sweet as his eye-smile.

Or how librarian Yoongi fell head over heels for cute freshman Park Jimin who, unfortunately, was very much straight - or so Yoongi thought.

Bon Voyage - 47.9+ [tourist! au]

Yoongi was meant to be taking the trip of a lifetime with his boyfriend. But now he's in Paris, alone and miserable. That is until he collides - quite literally - with one Park Jimin.

Boys who talk shit - 26k+ [college au]

When Yoongi enrolled in BTS (aka Boys who Talk Shit) Boarding School, he wasn't really expecting to be the only 'straight' (to be read sarcastically) guy in a room of seven geniuses (aka children aged five to ten, honestly). Plus four pet spiders. Yes, plural.

Chaotic episodes in A Place of Love and War, where Yoongi learns all about True Love via Park Jimin, Music and Marriage. Sort of. Brain bleach and earplugs are strongly recommended.

Conflicting arrangement - 162k+ [fake boyfriend au]

"Absolutely not," Yoongi deadpanned. "Namjoon-ah. I value you as a friend, and I think I'd even go as far as to say that you're my best friend, but absolutely fucking not."

"You owe me," Namjoon pleaded. "Come on, Yoongi, it's not a big deal."

"Your boyfriend's best friend's best friend needs a fake boyfriend to come out to his family this Chuseok, all the way in fucking Busan," Yoongi repeated drily without pause, making Namjoon wince. He flipped a page of his textbook, picking up his highlighter. "Not a big deal, Namjoon. Amazing."

Cotton Candy - 240k [high school rock band]

"He could get used to sitting next to Yoongi like this. To have him around. To have the band around. To smile and feel happy. To see Yoongi sitting in front of an instrument and having him play just for him.

'If this was my happy ending,' Jimin thinks, resisting the urge to lean his head on Yoongi's shoulder, 'if I wasn't who I am, I'd just let you have me whenever you want. You could have me anytime.'"

As spring turns into summer, school band Cotton Candy unexpectedly loses its singer and the members are forced to look for a new vocalist. Six boys find one in the form of the promiscuous pink-haired boy Park Jimin who makes a home in their hearts and finally finds a place he belongs

Daegu drift - 53k+ [motorcyclist / playboy au]

Jimin stops in Daegu for a big motor show and gets caught up with the locals. Specifically one Min Yoongi.

Sneak Peek:

Yoongi has his arms folded as he stares Jimin down.

“Are you going to join the rally, or not?”

Jimin takes his time answering because he likes the way Yoongi is looking at him. “Sure. I guess it could be fun. But you do realize none of you have a chance against a Bugatti, right?”

“It’s not the car that wins the race,” the other man says. “It’s the driver. You could have the fastest, best-equipped car in the goddamn universe, but if you’re a shit driver, it doesn’t make a difference.”

Goodbye from lonely - 65k+ [uncle yoongi!]

Park Jimin works two jobs that he loves and is going to college to get his teaching degree.

Min Yoongi is a personal assistant who hates his job and spits in his boss' coffee every day.

Kim Taehyung has been infatuated with his clueless co-worker for the better part of a year.

Jeon Jeongguk has a three-year-old daughter that he'd do anything for.

Somehow the tiny human brings them all together.

Or

Tae is in love with Kookie -> Kookie's daughter takes Jimin's ballet class -> Yoongi is Kookie's stepbrother -> Jimin and Yoongi meet because of Kookie's daughter.

In your eyes (it’s where I wanna be) - 5.5k [coffee shop! au]

Jimin pauses with his marker inches away from the cup, because — is he really going to do this? Isn’t it a bit old-fashioned to write something flirty on a coffee cup? But no matter what his churning gut says about the danger and what the hell are you doing do you want to die, this guy is — with no better way to put it — totally Jimin’s Type with a capital T.

(Or: Jimin accidentally starts a nickname war with the cute blonde who likes his coffee way too bitter.)

Inked flowers - 6.4k [tattoo artist / florist au]

Something stopped him. A sound of a piano. He looked around and saw a light coming from the window on the other side of the street. On the third floor was an open window. A light and the sorrowful sound of a piano flew out of the room. Jimin looked closer and saw a figure or at least a top of someone's head.

The melody was so sad and sorrowful that Jimin wanted to cry. He started thinking, what could possibly go inside that person’s head? What were they thinking? Jimin just hoped that they weren’t sad and alone.

(let me see you) get high then low - 4k+ [photographer/model au]

"The light-haired model is the kind that fascinates Yoongi, and at the same time, he prefers to steer away from. He's all smiles and flowers, drawing you in with his cuteness until he's not anymore. Suddenly, he’s something else entirely; he's that false calm, the ocean that looks smooth on the surface but will drag you down to its depths if you dare to touch it."

or

Min Yoongi works in a photography studio with some (very questionable) friends that can't get any work properly done without making a bit of a fuss.

Park Jimin is a model handcuffed against his will and bored. Also a little bit horny, maybe.

Math Tutor - 11.7k [bad boy! yoongi]

Min Yoongi is the school's resident Bad Boy™. He's covered in tattoos, is pierced, curses like a sailor, smokes like crazy, doesn't give a shit about anything, possesses a hot temper that has people steering clear of him, and is desperately in love with Park Jimin, the adorable math nerd. When Jimin is tasked with tutoring Yoongi in math, who is in danger of failing the class and being held back a year, both boys are hesitant. Yoongi because he can't think straight around the boy with startling red hair, and Jimin because Yoongi is scary as hell and looks like he can easily kill someone. Gradually, though, the two grow closer, and Jimin finds that Yoongi is nothing like how he'd imagined.

Maybe I hate you can be our always - 35.9k [enemies to lovers]

When Yoongi thinks about it, really gives it genuine thought, it's possible that Park Jimin isn't the worst person in the world.

//

(Or, Yoongi and Jimin get off on the wrong foot.)

Ode to yoonmin - 4k+ [texting]

yoongi and jimin are in very much in love but they're the only ones who don't know it

OR

chat fic with a bunch of bad jokes and memes ¯\_(ツ)_/

Out of my system - 101.6k+ [one night stand]

Yoongi likes one night stands and he understands how they work. What he doesn’t understand, however, is how he ended up in bed with a probably-not-legal kid crying in his arms about his broken heart, because he’s pretty sure (and correct him if he’s wrong) that a babysitting job was not what he was looking for when he went to the opening of his friend’s new club

Standing on the brink of 376 - 42.9k+ [street racing]

When Taehyung woke him up at three AM to go to a street race—an illegal one, no less—claiming it would help his social anxiety, Jimin never actually expected it to do much for him, except maybe make him cry hysterically. He found that he really wasn't too far off-kilter with that assumption, but it was only after he'd suffered through countless bouts of insecurity that he realized, hidden behind each stuttered breath, every inevitable tear, every spark of unavoidable fear, and even the customary cloud of cigarette smoke itself, lay a tremendous amount of affection for a certain platinum haired street racer that he can't even begin to justify. But when his opinion of fact, fate, and even life itself continues to blur with each push of the gas pedal, he thinks he just might be able to forgive himself for falling in love with a criminal, when the nonsensical moonshine of the present mutes the anxiety that had been a constant within his heart up until this November.

Strawberry lube - 82.7k+ [college au]

Yoongi remembers little to nothing of their crazy drunken night out. But of two things he's absolutely sure, one: he's not gay, two: he just slept with Park Jimin

The Paradiso Lounge - 192k+ [photographer/stripper au]

“Do I have to pay you for that service?”

This isn’t a dream (let me love you) - 26k+ [highschool au]

As captain of his high school’s basketball team, Min Yoongi dedicated all of his attention to his team and their games. His focus on the game never waned, not once for anything or anyone.

Well, until head cheerleader Park Jimin flashed his abs during a solo cheer and made him fuck up his shot

Trying to Behave (but you know we never learned how) - 329k+ [non-idol! au]

It's been years since Yoongi's last seen him and the younger boy is a shell of his former self in a way that makes his heart twist in his chest. And yet, after all this time and countless days of convincing himself to let him go, he's still unconditionally, head over heels in love with Park Jimin.

(Jimin and Yoongi grow up together.)

Valentino Summers - 657k+ [‘80s gangsters]

Whether or not Jimin was smuggling drugs really didn’t matter. He was hustling, and these days that was all there was to it.

Hustle and survive or struggle and die.

Y/N masterlist  << check it out !! xoxo

[morelike-bi-light]

Bingo Fic: Rosalie and Emmett as Parents

So this blog reached 500 followers this week! When I started this blog, it never occurred to me that this would happen, or that I’d find such an awesome fan community and such incredible mutuals, but it did and I did, and it’s kind of changed my life! So much so, that I wanted to celebrate! Those blog bingo sheets have been making their rounds, so I made one for myself, and decided that if anybody filled it out, I’d gift them a 500 word fic (500 words for 500 followers, but that wasn’t planned lol) for a prompt of their choosing!

One of my fav mutuals @rosalie-stan was the first to reply, and thus, the first bingo fic is all for her, for the prompt in the title! Hope you don’t mind - I went a little over 500 words, and then added some headcanons, because I honestly loved your prompt way too much. Hope you like it!

❤️❤️❤️

It's a quiet summer afternoon for the first time in almost a decade. The air conditioner is whirring gently, even if Rosalie and Emmett can't feel it. It's not for their sake - Bree volunteered to take the kids out to a movie, but little Alicia was still too young for the theater.

Not that Emmett minds - in fact, he can't think of anywhere else he'd rather be, than plopped down on the couch with his exhausted baby in his arms, and his soulmate tucked against his shoulder as she fingers through a piece of historical fiction that Carlisle had called 'certainly' entertaining and 'passably' accurate.

"Aw. Blinky," he grins, cradling the baby’s curl-covered head closer to his chest as she gurgles sleepily. His brows furrow for a moment. "That is crazy. She's like a little mini Rose."

Rosalie glances up to shoot him a dry look before going back to her book.

"Why do you insist on doing this?"

"What, tell the truth?" He shrugs, carefully so as not to jostle either his daughter or wife. "It's not my fault you married an honest man."

"She's a baby."

"So?"

"So, she looks like a baby - which I'm not."

Emmett springs for the throat. "You're my baby."

Rosalie bites her lip, smothering a grin. She shouldn't reward his bad behavior.

“Don't be funny," she huffs, batting at him absently.

"Impossible," he declares with a smirk. "And you know how many little brothers and sisters I had. I'm a certifiable baby face expert. Trust me, she's almost as close to you as Donnie."

"I trust you more than anyone else in the world," she deadpans. "Doesn't mean you're right."

"But you haven't disagreed either," he points out. "Not that it matters. Whether you disagree or not, she still looks like you."

Rosalie turns on him, closing the book. "You say that about all our kids!"

Emmett shushes her, pressing a cheeky finger to his lips and nodding at the drowsy baby curled in the crook of his arm. Rosalie rolls her eyes - Lisa could sleep through a hurricane - but lowers her voice just a bit.

"A few months ago, you tried to convince me that Bree has my smile, and she's not even related to us."

"I didn't say that," he snorts. "I said you smile the same way."

She raises a perfect brow in disbelief. "And that's different?"

He's as unaffected as she is unimpressed. "Totally."

"Well, I'm not buying it."

"No, really," he drawls. "You both do that cute little thing where you clamp your mouth shut like you're trying to hold it in, but then something will make you laugh, and it'll stretch real wide and get all dimpley."

If she could flush, Rosalie thinks she'd be beet red. Emmett's eyes are crinkled, glimmering like stars. Home, they say, I'm home when I see you, when I see our kids. It should be impossible to say so much with a simple look. She has to duck her head, look at her book's cover instead. "Is that so?"

"Yeah, it's so," he murmurs softly, and sits up straight. "And I can prove it... 'cause you're doing it right now."

The dam breaks, and she can feel the truth of his words as a smile blossoms on her lips.

"You're ridiculous," she says.

"You love it." He's right again.

She shakes her head, sighing as she leans against his shoulder, looking over their fourth child carefully.

"You're wrong about this one though. If anyone, she looks like you - the little button nose, and those same curls like you and Beth." Her smile softens. "This one's all yours."

Emmett shakes his head right back. "She might have my hair, maybe my nose, too. Hard to say - but look."

Alicia's eyes flutter softly as she pries them open, a sweet, familiar blue. Her gaze wanders a moment then settles on her parents, before she babbles a short hello.

"Look at those baby blues. Those are yours, right?"

Rosalie stares for a moment. A phantom pain burns like ice in her throat, but just for a moment.

"Right." She swallows, but she doesn't try to hide her smile this time. "Right. Those are mine. I guess she's both of ours."

“Course, she is,” he hums. “They all are. Always will be.”

❤️❤️❤️

As I mentioned, in the process of writing this, I accidentally created a whole Rosalie-Emmett family, so paragraphs of headcanons for context galore under the read more! Otherwise, hope you enjoyed the fic and thanks for following!

So as you probably noticed, Bree is alive and well and a part of the family in this AU. She not only lives and is a Cullen, but Emmett and Rosalie have adopted and adore her just like their own. Thus, she’s the oldest kid in the Rose-Emmett fam. They've had her for about a quarter of a century during this fic. Eight years ago, Carlisle discovered that a vampire couple could genetically have a child by using a surrogate. After some discussion between Emmett, Rosalie, and Bree, the family decided to expand. Yay!

With this, the second eldest kid is Elizabeth Cadence 'Beth' Cullen, age seven. When she was a human, Rosalie had always pictured naming her first daughter Elizabeth, and her middle name comes from her father's favorite human sister whom he'd once promised a goddaughter. Seeing as he’s the only Cullen with a happy backstory, I like to think he’d want his kids to have ties to his human family, even if he’s outlived them by a century. Anyways, they call her Beth. She has black curls, big wide eyes, and an easy smile like her father, plus the small, straight nose and excellent bone structure of her mother.

Beth is a goofball who loves to get herself into either trouble or danger, though the latter of which is hard to come by with an extended family of vampires and werewolves at her back. However, she is also incredibly generous, whether with her toys, her time, or her patience. She has a quick temper, though, and goes cold when she's angry, like her mom. Her favorite activity is running with her family, especially when Bree picks her up and carries her on her back, but she's also fond of music, and is passionate about dance. Her favorite babysitter is either Aunt Alice or Uncle Jasper, both of whom coddle her immensely, and her role model is definitely Aunt Leah.

Their third child is Donovan Matthew Cullen, age three. He gets his first name from a baby book, but his middle name is that of Emmett's eldest human brother, who always looked after the rest of the Masen clan. He has soft, wavy dark blonde hair, doe eyes, and a full pout like his mother, but he shares Emmett's button nose. During the summer, his cheeks get freckly and the tips of his hair gets sun-bleached almost white. (He also needs glasses as he gets older.)

Baby Donnie, as his older sisters call him, is a serious little fellow, very polite and horribly gentle, who likes to read - which is why he gets on with his aunt Bella so well. However, he can get just as rowdy as his sister, though he is greatly less likely to get messy due to his thoughtful nature and sensitivity to criticism. He gets along perfectly with both Grandma Esme and Uncle Edward, who is dying to teach him the piano, but secretly his favorite is probably Uncle Seth, who always knows how to make him feel both good and normal.

Their youngest, and the topic of this ficlet, is Alicia Esme 'Lisa' Cullen, not yet one. Obviously, her first name is derived from Alice, and her middle from Esme. They chose a slightly different name for her first because as Rosalie puts it, she should always remember to be her own person, even as she learns from others. Emmett assures Bella she has dibs on the next daughter, but I think four is enough for them - and she tells him as much. From Emmett, Lisa inherited dark, wavy hair, a button nose, and a round babyface, but she has her mother's eyes and full, solemn mouth.

Lisa grows up to be a mellow kid, partially due to nature and partially because she's had to learn to adapt on the fly without breaking too much of a sweat. She has the best sense of humor in the family, and the sharpest wit, due to observational skills and an impeccable sense of timing honed by years of living with the boisterous extended family she has (which includes the Clearwaters as step aunt and uncle, and through them, the wolf pack.) Out of everyone, she is the most down-to-earth, but also has the hardest time initiating confrontation when she’s hurt or upset. She has a very special bond with Grandpa Carlisle, and she adores her Aunt Victoria (because why not combine all the AUs?).

Whew, that was a lot! I would not blame anyone who took one look at those blocks of text and ran the other direction. But I enjoyed writing them, so it’s all good! If you actually made it this far, I am very impressed, and flattered, and I love you and thank you with all my heart. Hope you had fun reading!

[everlarkbirthdaygifts]

Happy Birthday, sunflowerslyf!

Apologies for the delay on your gift, @sunflowerslyf! We hope you had a wonderful back on the 16th, and got all the presents you wished for! To bring your party back around, @ally147writes has written a story just for you!

AN: Sorry for the delay, @sunflowerslyf! I’ve been pretty sick the past week or so, but I’m kind of on the mend! Full disclosure, I don’t know if this qualifies as a ‘meet-ugly’, but you wanted some smut as well, so I had to make a few modifications. There’s no actual smut in this story (sorry...), and there’s a lot I’d love to go back in and add or flesh out since I did rush it finished a little, but I hope you’ll enjoy this anyway ;)

This story was inspired somewhat by the police station scene between Jennifer Grey and Charlie Sheen in ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’.

Rated M for mostly for language and a little touchy-feely business. Unbeta’d. All errors are my own.

At least, Katniss notes, the whole place smells like bleach and latex.

 More than she could say for the parlour Jo dragged her to. She doesn’t remember a whole lot about that night other than the stench of cheap beer, vomit, and unwashed hair.

 The only other thing that doesn’t separate this place from the tattoo parlour is the clientele.

Katniss tugs her cardigan tight and crosses her arms and darts her gaze back and forth between the others occupying the seats around her. Between the young girl with the spiked, blood-red mohawk and the two guys who look like they’re members of violent biker gang, she’s the most demure one here, that’s for sure.

“So…” A low, sensuous says from the chair two down from her. “Where’s yours?”

 She freezes. The guy’s been watching her since she came in, and she’s been doing all she can not to stare right back, because he’s somehow the encapsulation of all the things your mother warned you to be careful of in a boy. Blond hair styled in an undercut, with the curls on top left untouched; blood-shot blue eyes, lined with something dark that might be smudged eyeliner or the evidence of a good, hard punch, that somehow still hold hers with an alertness she never would have expected; a small hoop glints from his eyebrow, and another two in the ear she can see. His white shirt, maybe a size too small, is a tight fit around his ornately tattooed arms, and it hugs his tapered torso almost obscenely. A leather jacket is slung over the arm of the chair, smooth and old and worn. She wonders if he got it second-hand or stole it, or maybe both.

 She lets out a breath and faces him front on. “My what?”

 He grins lazily. She crosses her legs. “You’re in a tattoo removal clinic, remember? So, where’s your shitty ink?”

 “Oh.” Her cheeks flush. “It’s, uh… not visible.”

 He snorts. “No shit, sweetheart, you’re covered from head to toe. So, unless it’s on your tits or something, mind at least giving me a hint?”

 Her jaw drops, but she recovers quickly and flashes her most menacing scowl. And pulls her cardigan a little tighter over her chest. “Go fuck yourself.”

 He grins wider. She swallows. “You’re kinda pure, aren’t you?”

 She swivels forward. “I don’t need to defend myself to you.”

 “That’s exactly what you’re doing, though, aren’t you?” He stands, and he’s not much taller than her, maybe a couple of inches, but he’s broad, built like a wrestler. He shuffles a little and settles in the seat beside hers and leans in close. She steals a breath and nearly shivers. Cinnamon and dill, fire smoke and something like warm, fresh bread.

 And something else a little like whiskey. God, is he drunk?

 Did someone turn up the heaters? She was freezing just a moment ago.

 “What are you doing?”

 He holds up his hands, both large enough to span her waist and then some.

 “Nothing at all. Just getting to know you. Can’t do that from all the way over there.” He grins again, and his teeth are perfectly white, though not perfectly straight, which is kind of a relief. “So,” he leans in close, “is it on your tits?”

 “What the fu — no! It’s not!”

 “Bummer. Thigh? Wrist? Ass?”

 “Jesus, why do you care so much?”

 “Just making conversation. I’ve been waiting in here over an hour now.” He smiles again, a little more subdued this time. “You’re by far the most interesting thing in the room.”

 She watches him stretch his legs out. Those black jeans will be the death of her. “Those lines ever work?”

 “I don’t know.” He bats his lashes. “You tell me.”

 She rubs at her eyes. “Why don’t you just leave me alone, dude?”

 “You’re really not going to tell me where it is, are you?”

 “Just not sure why you’re so curious.”

 “And I’m not sure why you’re so scared.”

 “Well,” she says, swallowing again. “Where’s yours?”

 “On my stomach. Wanna have a look?” Without waiting, he stands and whips his shirt up, revealing a set of abs that have no place on a seedy-looking dude at a tattoo removal clinic.

 She blinks at the expanse of colour decorating his body; abstract swirls like fireworks, flowers and faces, a bird in flight and wall of flames, every single one so sharp and intricate they look like they belong on a canvas in a gallery, though she concedes this man’s body is a more than acceptable substitute.

 “I… which one?”

 “This one.” He gestures to a trident slung low on his hip, disappearing into his jeans. Please, Jesus, don’t take those off, too. Or do, maybe, fucked if I know…

 “It’s… uh…”

 He snorts. “You can say it. Looks like shit. Not my best work, that’s for sure.”

 “You did it yourself?”

 “Most of them,” he says with a shrug, like it’s no big deal. I frequently stab myself with a needle for kicks. “Just not usually hammered when I do it.”

 She breaks her gaze away from the tapered V of his hips and meets his eyes again. “Why were you doing it, then?”

 He shrugs again. “Lost a bet to a friend. Tridents are kinda his thing. I might redo it again another time when I’m not pissed as a maggot.” He tugs his shirt back down and sits. “So. Where’s yours?”

 She sighs. “Lower back.”

 “Ah.” He nods, and God damn, did she just spy a tongue piercing? “Classic. What’s it of?”

 “A katniss flower.”

 He blinks. “I don’t get it.”

 She lets out a tired laugh. “My name’s Katniss. Seems a little conceited, don’t you think?”

 “I don’t know. Depends, I guess. Not like you’d be showing a ton of people anyway, what with it back there and all.” He grins again, and for a moment, he looks so much younger. “Can I see it?”

 “What? No!”

 He pouts. “Why not?”

 “Because,” she mutters at the ground. “It’s dumb.”

 “So why’d you get it in the first place?”

 She shoots him a wry smile. “Also hammered. My friend got one that night, too. Somehow, drunk me thought it’d be a great idea.”

 He laughs. “You make it sound like you’re the only one to do anything dumb when they’re drunk. You should probably loosen up a little. Relax, you know? Not like you’re the first person to make a bad decision before.” He smiles and wiggles his eyebrows at her. “Wanna make another one?”

 “You’re not going to let up, are you?”

 “Hey, I showed you mine.”

 She shakes her head and lets out a long, low sigh, ending on a chuckle. “I really don’t know why I’m doing this.” She leans forward, reaches back to untuck her tank top from her jeans. The chilly air hits the skin of her lower back as she inches it up to expose the ink she first thought was a mutant spider when she caught sight of it in the mirror the day after it happened.

 The guy’s hands ghost over her back, radiating a heat that makes her shudder with anticipation of his real touch. “Lean forward a little more, please?”

 She does as told, and when his fingers make contact, it takes everything in her not to melt at the gentle, ginger touch she did not expect from such an oddball presence.

 “It’s exquisite work,” he murmurs. His blunt nails tracing the design ignite a flood of goose-bumps along her spine. Heat courses through her, enough to fill her cheeks and every part of her. She clenches her thighs together and prays he doesn’t notice. “Gorgeous, really. Whoever did it did a really good job. You sure you wanna go through with getting it removed?”

 “Yeah. I mean, I never really wanted one anyway.”

 “It suits you. Sexy as hell, too, if you ask me.” She didn’t, but there’s a little thrill coursing through her regardless. “And a namesake tattoo isn’t a bad thing. I’d have a piece of pita bread on me if that wasn’t a totally batshit insane idea.” He removes his hand, and some stupid part of her brain misses it like crazy.

 She tugs her tank back down and sits up. Weird guy seems much closer now, or was he always this close?

 “Your name’s Pita?” Her voice sounds almost choked.

 He smiles again, and she can’t help but stare at his lips now that he’s this close. “Peeta, actually.”

 “I probably should have asked that before I let you put your hands on me.”

 “If you had any sort of hindsight you wouldn’t be here at all.” He reaches out and tucks a loose piece of hair behind her ear. Why the fuck is she letting him do that again? “Right now, I’m kinda glad you’re an idiot. I probably wouldn’t have met you otherwise.”

 She swallows and tilts her head closer, letting him curl his hand around the back of her neck. The scent of him and the sound of his voice is kinda hypnotic… “I kind of don’t hate it right now, either.”

 She kind of falls into him then, and she’s got no real good reason why. Because he’s hot? That’s as good a reason as any. All she knows, his hands are mangling her braid and lips are warm and soft on hers, gentle and commanding at the same time, like he knows exactly what he wants and how to get it. But there’s something that she wants, too. She wrests control away, and he lets her, like he’d been waiting for her to seize it the whole time. She licks the perimeter around his lips until he opens for her, and yeah, he does taste vaguely like whiskey and smoke that isn’t cigarette smoke, and it’s weird but it’s so flipping good and God, what is with this guy and —

 “Katniss Everdeen?”

 She rips herself away from Peeta and pushes him hard enough that he falls astride the chairs making up their row. He watches with a quirked brow — the one with the piercing — as she bolts up from her seat and steals her bag from the floor. A bespectacled man in a white coat stands in the doorway leading to the treatment rooms, flashing her a knowing smirk that she kinda wants to slap off. “Would you like to come through?”

 “I, uh… sure.”. She looks back at Peeta, who’s still watching her with the most ridiculously amused grin. She can’t help another lazy perusal up… and down. “It was… uh, nice to meet you, Peeta.”

 Peeta grins and waves, just a subtle flick of his fingers. “See ya later, Katniss.”

 Oh, God, yes I hope so...

[freedom-shamrock]

Two are Better, But Three is Best

Also on AO3

Heads up, this goes Lukanette pretty quickly and will move toward a Lukadrienette end game.  If that bothers you, feel free to skip it.

Marinette jogged up the stairs to the fourth floor of the apartment building.  She'd been warned that the elevator was slow and smelled a bit funky, and years of being Ladybug had kept her in good shape, even though Hawk Moth wasn't as active as he'd once been.  Her phone chirped with a notification, and she slipped it out of her sling purse to check.

Alya: Grl, you need to get here ASAP. This party's smokin'

Marinette rolled her eyes and handed the phone back to Tikki as she leaned against the fire door for the third floor, pushing it open with her weight.  She could already hear the music, something a bit different from Nino's usual repertoire. "Tell her I'm just outside the door."

Tikki giggled. "At least you already know it's going to be worth putting aside your projects for the evening."

"Pfft."  Marinette laughed. "We've established that Alya's idea of a good time is not always mine." Her bestie was a total extrovert, and if a party wasn't up to her standards, she was at liberty to drink enough to make it fun.  Marinette preferred to stay sober in case her Ladybug skills were needed, which meant she had to see every event without the filter of inebriation. That said, she hadn't seen her friends in too long, and Luka's apartment-warming party was a perfect opportunity to both welcome him home and see her other friends.

Marinette was just reaching for the doorknob when the door swung open, revealing a beaming young man with shaggy shoulder-length black hair. "Marinette!" He lunged forward, but froze short of pulling her into an enthusiastic hug.

"Luka!  Welcome home."  She stepped closer, helping complete the hug, and giggling when her feet left the floor.  "I'm so glad you're back to stay."

"Yeah?"  He set her back down, still beaming, and lightly pressed his forehead to hers. "Me too.  Especially if it means I'll get to see you on a more regular basis."

She felt the heat in her cheeks and hoped he wouldn't notice.  But then, he always did have that effect on her, though she fortunately never lost her ability to speak in full sentences with him.  "I hope that's a promise."

"You'd better believe it," he insisted, finally stepping back.  "Hey, can I show you around?" He looked excited now, his pretty blue eyes wide.

Marinette nodded.  "I'd love to see your new place."  She felt her pulse pick up when he caught her hand to gently tug her inside. It was fair to say compass Marinette was turned completely around, and she was fully embracing it.  

The apartment was small, but it probably had to be, for him to afford it on his own so soon after university. It felt downright tiny with the sheer number of people crowded into it. She waved to those she knew, their shared friends as well as his friends who she'd met over the years.  She saw Nino, Alya and Adrien in the living room, where the music was playing. Juleka and Rose were mixing drinks in the kitchen as they passed through.

"Name your poison, Marinette," Rose called, waving a cup in the air.

"Do you have any juice?" Marinette asked.

Rose looked off to the side for a moment.  "Yeah. Pineapple, tomato, and cranberry."

"Pineapple, please," Marinette replied.  Trust these two to be running a full bar at a party this size.

"Spiked or…?" Juleka waved a bottle of vodka in the air.

Luka shook his head.  "You know Nette doesn't drink, Jules."

"Things can change," Juleka pointed out.  "I just like to be open to all options."

"Just the juice, but thanks, Juleka," Marinette said.  "I appreciate the thought."

Luka lead her down a short hallway.  "Bathroom." He pointed to a closed door.  "Portal to Narnia." He pointed to another door.

"Really?" she asked, laughing.  "Can we go now?"

He snorted and opened it, showing mostly bare shelves.  "Fine. You caught me. It's the linen closet, and I'm shy on linens."

"Well that gives me at least one good idea for a housewarming gift," she said.

"You don't need to get me anything Marinette," he insisted. "Though I'd love it if we could get together, maybe hang out some now."  He shot a shy smile over his shoulder at her.

"I'd be terribly disappointed if we didn't do that," she agreed.  "But I can still give you a gift. The two things are not mutually exclusive."

He shook his head and pushed open the door at the end of the hall. "And this is my bedroom." He stepped back and waved at it. "I know it's all a bit bare yet, but I think it'll become home soon enough."  He had a double bed on a bare frame and a simple dresser. The walls were bare.

She patted his upper arm.  "Don't apologize. I can see that this has great potential to really be your place."  They'd kept in touch by text and chat, getting together whenever he was in town, and she knew how much it meant to him to have his own place after all the roommates and creative living situations he'd been in over the last five years. She was excited to see him at this point, even if the apartment didn't have his personal touches stamped all over it yet.

He sighed happily. "I knew you'd see that.  Most everyone else just focuses on the weird emptiness."

Marinette shook her head.  "You finished moving in two days ago.  It's not like you've had time to paint or decorate.  I'm pretty sure everyone here is on a relatively tight budget… well, not Adrien, but he has his own issues."

Luka snorted. "Nino and I were talking about that while we were setting up his sound gear."

She nodded, well aware of Nino's prediction that Adrien was coming up on a rebellious phase.  He was probably right, and she was curious and worried what that would look like. Too many rich kids got messed up with drugs, and she didn't want that for her friend… or anyone, really.  "You look so happy, Luka, it's nice to see." She stepped back so she could give him a once over.

He grinned.  "And you like what you see?" He held out his arms and posed, arching his eyebrows.

She poked him lightly in the stomach, making him curl in a bit. "You could stand to eat a bit more," she said with a giggle.  "But yes." She reached out and caught the ends of his hair. "I kind of miss the color though."

"The end of semester leading up to graduation was a beast, and I didn't have time to do it before this," he said, shrugging, then taking a step closer. "I'm redoing it tomorrow.  Probably going to go all out and do my nails while I'm waiting out the bleach."

"I'm free tomorrow if you want help," she offered.  

"Yeah?" he asked.

She nodded.  "I wouldn't want you to mess up your polish before it sets."

"I'm going to get the feeling that you like me," he warned.

She rolled her eyes.  "If you haven't already figured that out, I'd be worried about your brain."

He laughed. "Uhm… Okay, so I'm going to do this, even though I totally swore to myself I'd wait a week. And I don't even get to blame alcohol, because I've only had soda." It was almost like he was talking to himself; his smile was a little nervous and his cheeks had gone pink. "I feel like… and you can disagree if you want, but I feel like we've been kind of dancing around each other for years."

She stared at him, her stomach flipping over in hopeful surprise.

"We have this amazing chemistry, Nette, but there was never a point when we were both on the same page."  He met her eyes, his expression almost painful in its earnestness.  "We each had our phase of being completely obsessed and distracted by an unfairly hot and painfully oblivious blond guy."

She tamped down on her giggle, but nodded.  Adrien could be so stupid for someone so smart.

"We've needed time to focus on our arts, and it just wasn't good timing when I was so far away."  He licked his lips and took a deep breath, seeming to gather his courage. "But I need to admit that when I thought about coming home, I was really hoping all that would sort of fall away."

"Are you asking me out?" she asked, reaching for his hand and hoping he could read the happiness off her.

"Yeah."  He glanced down at their hands for a moment. "You're so amazing and gorgeous and I've been crazy about you for years."  He inched a little closer. "And I really want to kiss you right now." He dipped his head enough to get close, but didn't follow through. "But I'll understand if you aren't--"

She popped up onto her toes, just barely able to brush her lips against his.  Still, it was enough to stop his words and answer his question. Before she could lose her balance, his arm slipped around her waist to pull her toward him as he leaned in further.  It started gentle, like they were cautiously testing the waters. When she flicked the tip of her tongue against his upper lip, he opened eagerly to her and the kiss suddenly went much hotter and more intense. For a moment, she forgot all about the party going on around them.

When he pulled back, he gave her two gentle kisses before straightening up and opening his eyes.  He looked blissfully happy, and it made her feel warm and pleased to be part of that.

"You're adorable," she said, lightly tapping his nose. "And an excellent kisser."

"Marinette!" Alya called rounding the corner into the short hallway. "Where are yoooou?"

Luka laughed, shaking his head. "Best go appease Alya."

Marinette sighed.  "Fine. But we'll talk about this..." she gestured between them. "Before I go. Kay?"

Check out chapter 2 >>>

I've been trying to get this assembled for the last two or three weeks, but crazybusy life was not permitting it. Hope to update routinely. Currently no clue on end length.

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If you’re so inclined, feel free to support me over on Ko-Fi