#i'm predicting at least a few days of being scared but i'm hoping once it starts to like get our scents all over and stuff she'll be fine

[zemnarihah]

ok i'm back FUCK my homework. literally i could just fuck off for the rest of the semester and still pass all my classes whoooo cares

[juliasdowntonstuff]

Chapter 52

Chapter 52 is out now on ff and ao3 and I'm back with some Rosamund content in this one before focusing more on Cobert in what's left to come :)

Also: the third film has finally been announced and I could not be happier about that!

"What is my dear brother showing your Mama there? Surely it can't be about the flowers — he hasn't learnt about flowers and their significance within the last month and he certainly never had much interest in that sort of thing when he was younger. Mama tried to teach him a thing or two, hoping it might one day help him find a suitable match. Luckily for my brother, Cora has never been too bothered by all that."

Rosamund was quite casually sipping on her cup of tea, her eyes not leaving her brother and his wife standing near the folly even just once as she addressed her niece who was sitting next to her at the table. She followed them with her gaze as they slowly walked around the side of the imposing structure, Cora holding fast onto Robert's arm while they both appeared to be looking at the ground where flowers were beginning to sprout. Mary could not blame her aunt for finding this odd, but she also did not know about the additions she and her father had had made.

Mary, who had been rather preoccupied with watching George and Caroline play in the sun with all their cousins, then turned to look first at her aunt next to her and then at her parents a few metres away. It always amused her when her father was being addressed as her aunt's dear brother because she never quite knew whether Rosamund was being sincere in her use of the endearment or not. The chances were always quite high that she was being sarcastic, even more so when talking directly with him.

"No, he has not found himself a new special interest, he's showing her another addition we had the builders include to give the folly more meaning, to make it a bit more personal for Mama."

"And what might that addition be, pray tell? The folly itself is quite impressive and beautifully made. I am honestly surprised at my brother's inventiveness with this present. This is already a monument to honour your Mama for several generations to come."

"I think I should just show you," Mary said quietly in reply to this, getting up from the chair with some apparent reluctance. What she was about to show her aunt would not be easy and she somehow dreaded it. A small part of her had hoped to wait a bit before showing this to her aunt, at least until after the party when everyone had gone. There was no way she could predict her aunt's reaction.

One eyebrow sceptically raised, Rosamund followed Mary to the folly. However, instead of following Robert and Cora who had gone to the left, Mary went right and began to round the new building.

"You are really making quite the mystery out of this, my dear!" Rosamund said, the waning of her amusement evident in her voice. Mary could still hear her smile, though, which caused her to be at least slightly hopeful about her aunt's subsequent reaction and not only scared.

[whythewords]

Days 281 - 291: It's a love love/hate, love

Hello. Let me start this post with the customary mention of the time between posts. 10 days? Wow! The gap is closing. BUT WHY would that be the case?

Well, when last we left our hero he was about to venture out on his first date with someone aside from his former partner in almost 10 years. And...it went well. We had dinner, and we chatted and walked around town for a bit. She was easy to talk to, and funny and very cute.

But here's the fun part folks: that little voice in my head won't let me have nice things. Funny enough, I saw my therapist for the first time in months the very week I was going on this date, just days before. We excavated my worries for the future both distant and near, including this date and meeting new people in general. We were contending with the negative self-talk, the doom and gloom, assuming the worst...all things that I'm a reluctant expert in. So I took what I used in therapy and tried to apply it. I hyped myself up for the date, and things went well, but my brain would be up to it's old tricks again before the night was through. I felt the conversation beginning to lull. I panicked. "You're not keeping her interest. Say something! Think you idiot!" As I walked her to her car these intrusive thoughts persisted and I figured I had blown it. "Well folks, time to call it. It was fun while it lasted." But before departing she hit me with a "I would love to see you again." I agreed. Of COURSE I agreed. She's kind and smart and attractive and I want to follow this where it goes.

So crisis averted right, problems over?

Uh, remember what I said in the last post about getting too invested? I'm trying man, god fucking help me I'm trying to temper my expectations. We chatted more over the next few days after the date, but it seemed like we were chatting a bit less so naturally I panicked again. "Maybe she wouldn't actually love to see me again. Maybe she was just being nice. She's not really initiating these conversations either. Maybe I hang back for a bit and see if she messages me. Shit, it's almost the end of the day and nothing. I knew this was too good to be true. Should I say something? What do I do? Oh wait, here she is."

Ugh. I don't want to play these games. Is this what it was always like? Or is this because there was no previous rapport? Is the online dating thing fucking me up? What the fuck is dating even suppose to look like in our mid-30s? Maybe this is it. And maybe, JUST maybe (or certainly) I'm getting WAY too fucking deep with this. Here I was thinking before that this would be the time to explore the casual dating thing but I have, at the very least, learned something about myself in this process and that is that I COMMIT and I COMMIT HARD. I AM looking for THAT someone and not just A someone. So I guess I have to lean into that now and follow the all-important and oft-repeated advice for this situation and just be my fucking self.

I am the guy who likes to check in and say hello every once in a while. Maybe I stop worrying if that comes across as too needy. Maybe I stop assuming that this person will think a guy who is genuinely interested in her messaging her once a day to ask how she's doing is off-putting. Maybe remember that she's a single mom with two jobs and she might pretty fucking busy throughout the day. "Just be me and see where it goes" should be the only advice I'm following right now but, as predicted, I am a victim of my own brain.

We've already discussed our second date, just need to iron out some details. I am hoping we're over that initial nervous energy that comes with a first date and that the second one goes even better. And like I repeated incessantly in the last post, all I can really do is hope for the best and try to be ready in case things go south. It's all an experience right?

Oh lord.

What else? I don't know. Fucking mid-terms started. I crushed the first one today...but a couple of the other ones this week have me a little scared. I'll study my ass off with the best motivation there is: do well, and this could and should be the LAST fucking time you ever need to do stuff like this. Days away from the mid-way point. Gonna keep on trying to get ahead of the 8-ball so I only have to do any actual working/reading on the first couple of days of my reading week, and then I can just kick my feet up for the rest of it.

Stick to plan Joe. In ALL aspects of life, just stick to the god-damned plan.

[the-slasher-madame]

If you're still doing requests: What if the slashers had a S/O who could control animals? (Straight up, this mf could make a group of rats conga line with a few hand movements, lol) Bonus points: Maybe this ability was the reason the slashers didn't kill them initially? (I love your headcanons so far, btw! Especially the geese one, lol I hope you have a lovely day/night!)

HEEHEHEHEHEHEHE I LOVE IT!!!!! Animals r so cool lol. I'm remember Ratcatcher II from The Suicide Squad and I am loving it. For some reason I'm reminded of a story where this one girl did like freeform taxidermy?? Only tenuously connected, but hey my brain is missing a few washers. I'm glad you like the geese!!!! I love geese so, so much. I see them at school and its all heart eyes.

CWs: mentions of violence (it's slashers y'all, they go stab and we go "yes king <3", cursing (think y'all are used to that by now lol), let me know if I missed anything!!!

Vincent Sinclair: I genuinely think this boy is very soft. I firmly believe he loves animals and the soft side of life, so he would love that you have such a connection with animals. I think he'd worry about if the animals are ok when all this happens, but he thinks its so cool. I think he'd beg you to bring animals around so he could pet them and sketch them with a proper model.

I think, in Ambrose, the most likely animals on hand would be squirrels, rabbits, and snakes, none of which he's noticed behave the way they do when you're summoning them for protection. You just make a solid line of defense, and he knows better than to fuck with snakes, so he just stops and waits for Bo. Bo is terrified and probably thinks you're Satan, but Vinny is gonna be absolutely fascinated. He begs Bo to keep you around, and Bo was a little too scared to deny it. Would make sure to get you anything you need if it tires you out and would have food and water on hand for the animals. Jonesy is off-limits, unless she's run off and they can't find her (I feel like you can kinda sense the animals around you??).

Bo Sinclair: I just have a gut feeling that this boy is terrified of supernatural shit, at least if you use that supernatural shit against him lol. He loves asking you to do stuff like this as a party trick. Wants to use you to help when hunting (animals), but would also test to see if you can control humans. I think also in softer moments he would love interacting with animals he usually doesn't get to see up close. And, if he pisses you off, I think you could use the woodland critters to your advantage. . . thefUCK DID THESE SQUIRRELS COME FROM--

Would feel the same way about you controlling Jonesy, using it only if she's lost and possibly in danger (but he's also the type to say "she can handle herself" so he'd wait a little bit). Did not appreciate being attacked by the small creatures when he tried to catch you, but he had his shotgun and you cared for the animals and were getting tired. It was quite the stalemate, and quite the compromise. Would every once in a while ask you to bring animals around for Lester to play with, or for Vinny to use as models, or even for Jonesy to play with. He's a family man, what can I say

Michael Myers (RZ): as per usual, stoic and seems uncaring. He isn't the most gentle person ever (he was raised in an asylum by a fucked up doctor-I'll talk about him later, but he's gonna handle animals like a small child). Rough but trying his best, doesn't mean to hurt them. I think using animals would be a good therapy technique, give him something to learn how to be soft with. Starts to love when you bring animals around, and learns to be gentle. Back to the beginning though: like a cat, rather predictably. Sometimes glares at the animals, especially if they decide he is the new mama. I think he would hiss, but he doesn't talk so he just glowers until the animal wonders away (but their insistence starts to warm his heart).

I think birds would be what save you from Mikey. He's marching after you in the dark nature-y parts of Haddonfield, and you summon birds to swarm him. I don't think he'd really react much to the pecking and scratching, might be more sensitive to the noise, but is overall just curious. Like "well this is new." (I think creativity and novelty is like the key way to get him to spare you). He likes to study, and would absolutely observe your power. Y'all stare at each other while you catch your breathe and the birds swarm the Boogeyman, and eventually he turns and walks off. You start catching sight of him following you, eventually, but he never made a move to harm you so you let it be. Eventually becomes very soft with the animals and loves feeling how soft they are, feeling their warmth and feeling them breathe while they lay next to you on his chest.

Thomas Hewitt: I’m sorry y’all, I’m just convinced that this family is terrified of the supernatural. With every superpower, Thomas is a little freaked, Luda Mae is looking for holy water, Hoyt is convinced the devil has finally come for him (he should be worried more about me), and Monty is laughing at Hoyt. However, I think this power would be one that wouldn’t freak them out as much. Like gee animals?? Hoyt and Monty particularly are gonna think you’re harmless, and Luda is going to be a little hesitant around you but overall think you won’t hurt anyone, and Thomas is gonna be so soft. He thinks it’s the cutest thing ever. Like awwww you’re animal themed 🥺🥺 They’d definitely make you take care of rats and maybe get the animals (if they have any on their farm??) to come to slaughter easier. Thomas wouldn’t like that idea, he wants to keep you protected from all the violent shit, and Hoyt would be pissed if you refused. Will start being an ass and Thomas starts to glare at him... and you call on the rabbits and birds. Hoyt never yells at you again. Ever. 

I think more small woodland critters would be the most readily accessible. Rabbits, squirrels, birds (can y’all tell I like birds yet lol?). Rats, you’re going to find rats in the basement ad get them to chew through your bindings. When Tommy comes back and finds you free, terrified, and surrounded by rats, he’s going to go get the rest of the family and let you live. I another one that loves loves loves getting to interact with animals up close. Loves petting rabbit (I also love rabbits). Loves the birds landing on his finger like a Disney princess. Feels bad when he has to butcher pigs, and keeps you away from the family cannibal business at all costs. Understands that you’re connected to animals and doubts its any easier when its you know...humans. Mesmerized by you, your powers, and your looks

Brahms Heelshire: he’s a bit conflicted. One one hand, this boy was undoubtably a bookworm, I mean what else could he do while being exiled to the walls?? Anyways, he feels like you’re a character from his childhood books and it makes him love you even more, already associating you with pleasant memories. On the other hand, what the fuck people aren’t supposed to do that????? I think he learns about your power while he’s still in the walls, and he gets over it pretty quickly seeing how careful you are with the doll and other critters you find around the mansion. You refuse to use the rat traps and at first he’s a little annoyed, but then he sees your power and starts to understand why. I think when y’all finally do meet, he’s trying to be as non-threatening as possible and you have gathered an army of rats. He doesn’t move toward you, just starts talking softly and trying to explain who he is. You’d eventually have to ask him to repeat it all cause you were busy trying to not have a heart attack and a stroke at once. Y’all manage to come to an understanding. 

While out of the walls, he will pester you with as many questions as he can get out of his mouth. He’s a curious boy, what can I say? I think, like Mikey, he would be a little rough on the animals first before learning to properly handle them. For the love of every god, please use the animals like therapy animals. He can play and pet with them while also learning to confront the trauma of his bullshit parents. I think he would really like rabbits, cause he has the childlike center, and could learn to be decently ok with the rats but I don’t think he will touch them. When deer wander through, he gets super excited. I think he would warm up to a cat or a dog in the house. WAIT NO HE’D MAKE A DOLL OF THE PET TO MATCH HIS DOLL AWWWWWWW!!! Would also probably make woodland dolls. He’d be happy that his doll isn’t lonely anymore :D

Alright, I’ve got the first 5. Let me know if y’all want more!!! I love fluff like this its so cuteeee And n case it wasn’t obvious, I really like birds and rabbits (my favorite plushies are rabbis :3). I can’t tell y’all how honored I feel to be getting requests and follows and just I’m soft 🥺. I’ve never been real popular or had like a solid community of my own so this is all really special to me, and I will be thanking y’all as often as possible <33333

[missinghan]

cold sun ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : soulmate au; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 2,6k.

❖ warning : slight swearing

❖ summary : in a world where one will lose something if their soulmate doesn’t reciprocate their words of love once they turn sixteen, jisung is willing to take the risk so you won’t have to bear the burden.

❖ note : i just realized how i always tend to write for jisung when i'm down :')) anywho this piece is a little different than what i usually come up with but i hope y'all enjoy it ♡

It’s the first day of the week.

“Hey, Y/N. I like you!”

And Han Jisung is really annoying.

Those words come out so easily. It's casual in a way that makes you bury your red nose deeper into the soft fabric of your scarf, which makes your footsteps quicken unknowingly as his voice chases after you loudly. Either way, this isn’t the first time Jisung has said so. In fact, it’s become a habit for him to remind you every other day.

There’s no particular reason why. Or at least that’s what you think.

It’s the end of the week. Jisung decides to hang himself upside down on your bed while you’re stressing over a presentation. “Hey, Y/N.” A cold winter breeze comes rushing against the perplexing glass of your window, shaking the frame violently before all motions come to silence.

Until, “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he creeps up from behind you and chirps into your ear.

“What?” you let out a groan of displease when tempting warmth embraces you whole, prompting you to drop your attention and looking over your shoulder.

Jisung pouts, “You didn’t answer me.”

“It’s because you’re annoying,” you sigh.

“Answer me when I call your name,” he pulls you in a fraction tighter, careful enough not to hurt you but firm to not let you slip away at the same time, and cradles your neck warmly, “So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”

“Alright, stupid.”

The all too familiar gummy smile returns instantly. “Hey, Y/N?”

And you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Yes, Jisung?”

“I like you,” he giggles into the hug, “I like you a lot.”

Han Jisung really is annoying.

He’s annoying because he talks too much. He’s annoying because of how he always asks for your notes after a gaming night with Felix just to nap in class. He’s annoying because he’d drop you in a heartbeat for a single slice of cheesecake from Jeongin’s mom’s bakery. He’s annoying because of how well he can get along with everyone.

Chatty, down-to-earth, easy-going with a lovable smile—attractive, very attractive.

It’s the week after that. “What...happened?”

“He lost his voice,” Jeongin sighs, looking like he genuinely wants to facepalm himself against concrete while walking with an incoherent Jisung to school; expressive hands with his mouth agape and all.

You tilt your head, “...for real?”

“For real.”

After a few seconds of eyeing Jisung struggling with converting what’s in his head, you exhale deeply and quickly rummage through your backpack, “Just stop, you look ridiculous.” And he does just that, zipping his mouth metaphorically and giving you those typical puppy eyes. “Here, use this.”

His eyes light up like stars when you rip off a page from one of your notebooks and offer it to him along with a pen. Truth is, you’re expecting something as predictable as ‘I like you’ or ‘It’s alright it’s just the worst cold I’ve ever caught’. But then, what’s displayed on the piece of paper right now only baffles you.

Park is going to murder you if he sees some uglyass tear in your Ochem notes :)

A forced grin splits your lips open. “Not if I murdered you first and then the entire school and then myself.”

The first genuine smile blossoms on his lips when you give him a mini-sized notepad and pencil the day after—his sixteenth birthday.

And Jisung decides this is it.

It happens when the sun hasn’t even come out yet and the irritating blue light from his phone reads 5:32 AM.

It happens when he sees your reclined figure leaning back against his mattress, his pupils tracing your delicate features. Perplexed emotions fill his eyes to the brim, fulfillment bursting within his chest when you stare right back at him with such purity. So pure that it seems you can do no harm to him and neither can he.

“Hey stupid,” you murmur quietly, shoving a notepad and pencil against his chest, “Happy birthday.”

Jisung gives you a bright smile, opens his mouth, and snaps it close mere moments later. Sixteenth birthday. Early in the morning. Tired grins. The fondness of being so disgustingly in love.

He can’t help but lean in and caves into the taste his soul has longed for as long as he can remember.

Two weeks have passed since Jisung has lost his voice.

Nothing has differed if you’re being completely honest. Han Jisung is still annoying. His lack of ability to speak doesn’t appear to be a problem to him at all. He loves chatting with people even though he’s more of a listener now. But with the small notepad you gave him a few days ago, being socially active is the norm for him even now.

Thanks to his rather short-period experiences of observing people’s expressions and how their features contort in certain ways when they’re feeling certain emotions, Jisung catches onto your mood more quickly during bad days to help you release your inner turmoil by scribbling down something stupid on the notepad. It’s kinda nice like this, you’d think to yourself sometimes.

Other times, you’re more scared that you might have forgotten what his voice sounds like.

“No wonder you got a fucking cold. Stop taking midnight showers already.”

You wave Jisung over when he closes the wooden door to your bedroom, droplets dripping from his hair as he scratches his stomach tiredly. His hair is a mess when he lazily crawls onto your bed, the cushion beside you dips slightly.

His index finger pointing at his post-shower head and a shit-eating grin are all you need to snatch the white towel around his neck.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” you mumble while rubbing the cotton fabric into his hair, “But you’re awfully upbeat for someone who’s lost their voice. Can’t you at least pretend to be sad about it?”

A noise of protest escapes his throat like second nature as your eyes carefully read the quick movements of his mouth. “And can you not be so mean to someone who’s lost their voice?”

A faint smirk creeps its way up to your lips. “Still like me now?”

Jisung thinks hard for a few moments before jumping out of bed to snatch his notepad from your studying area. Of course, I like you. I like you a lot. Your heartbeat momentarily spikes at his scrawny handwriting. Just when your gaze is averted away to cool the blush on your cheeks, he tugs at your sleeve again and points at a different mess of scribbles. You’re more gentle when I’m like this. And you’d always find me if I ever got into trouble. What’s there for me to be sad about?

“Annoying little shit,” you swallow your pride and let him settle his head against your chest.

His presence melts into yours during the hardest hours of the twenty-four, heartbeats on heartbeats and warmth on warmth. Your one regret is that you’re unable to register his tears that night, only the incoherent, breathless hiccups almost as to desperately call out your name.

It’s been a month since Jisung’s lost his voice. And the night when he kisses you for the second time, his notepad is long forgotten next to your pillow.

I-can’t-talk. Give-me-a-break.

Jeongin. Cheesecake. Please? Pretty please?

I’ll fucking kick you.

Wait, there’s homework?!

...so you’re telling me LMAO isn’t how French people laugh?

“This is what you’ve been doing during breaks huh…” you mumble under your breath while lazily flipping through the papers. The occasional ‘I like you’-s do pop up every two pages or so, which is more than enough to make you smile like an idiot. But that is until a peculiar paragraph yanks your attention by its neck and tosses it against a brick wall.

Mom, promise me you’re not going to cry.

He made auntie cry?!

I lost my voice for real now but it wasn’t supposed to be like that at first. I just wanted to mess with Y/N and freak her out for a day.

I’m seriously going to punch him.

She was a lot softer toward me after that, you know. I know it’s extremely selfish of me but I just can’t help being so happy. I’m sorry, mom. I really am.

Han Jisung you fucking idiot.

I was going to surprise her on my birthday by saying ‘good morning’ out loud but nothing came out. My voice was gone.

Guilt, anger, remorse take over you. You knew nothing of this. You never once questioned for a logical reason behind the loss of his voice and kept moving onward as if it’s not that big of a deal. You didn’t suspect it as a kind of prank, either. But you still care, all this time! You have been doing everything in your power as a way for both you and Jisung to treasure himself even if he can’t speak anymore.

I went to a check-up last week. Nothing came up. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.

However, without fail, the obnoxious part of you will keep wandering back to the concept of soulmates that has been engraved so deeply into the society you’re living in. It makes no sense to you that Jisung lost his voice for no reason right before his sixteenth birthday. This explains it all now.

It’s going to be okay, mom. Because I have Y/N. I know she would come running toward my side over and over again even if she can’t hear me anymore. I really don’t know what I’d do without her in my life.

Jisung knew the penalty for being the first to exchange any words of love yet he still did it. And you were too busy overlooking that stupid pride of yours to say those three words back.

It’s getting to the point where I’m starting to forget what I used to sound like. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.

Jisung fixes the strap of his backpack, looking up at his mom after slipping into his sneakers. She ruffles his bed head and hands him a small white box with Jeongin’s bakery’s signature logo on it.

He tilts his head in faint confusion, peering at the box of pastry in his arms.

“Give it to Y/N on the bus, okay? Her parents aren’t home right now. You know how she would always skip breakfast when they’re out of town.”

His eyes light up instantly in realization and Jisung nods, preparing to bid her farewell. Just then, his front door comes flying open. It can’t be a mere acquaintance because there are very few people other than his parents and himself who know of the spare key hidden under the welcome mat.

As Jisung turns around, he’s keenly aware of your teary eyes already trained on him. Which in hindsight, makes no sense. As a result, panic rises within the hollowness of his chest, his lips falling agape but no coherent words come out.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” his mom flinches, slightly caught off guard, “Is everything okay?”

A scowl stretches over your contorted features as you shut the door loudly. “What the hell is this?” you question, shoving the familiar notepad into his chest. “A prank? A prank?! Do you think that this is funny?”

Jisung’s frantic eyes move to read the paper and every single color on his face drains tremendously. He easily recognizes the peculiar paragraph by how much lighter the ink is compared to the rest of the messy lines because his pen was running low and his hand couldn’t stop shaking.

Your voice.

His eyes avert back to look at you. His brows furrow timidly and shaky breaths burst from his lips almost like a desperate cry for help. There’s too much he wants to say, too many things to explain, and too many questions running through his head that he can’t process what to do next. He might just overwhelm both you and himself.

I need to hear it again.

And you might not stay by his side this time.

“Okay, don’t answer me then, I guess,” you chuckle lowly, dipping your head and turning around.

Jisung grabs at your sleeve instinctively and drops the pastry box, his gaze empty and all too knowing. Sorrow glazes over his starry eyes when it starts becoming hard to breathe properly. The outlines of his lips are moving non-stop yet nothing comes following after that.

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you rasp out and tug at his hand. Then it hits you. He’s like this because of you. Jisung lost his voice because of you.

His mom cuts into the conversation, “Y/N, you don’t understand!”

“I’m sorry, auntie,” you smile sadly and take off running into the streets.

You, in the midst of your self-loathing and guilt, allow your feet to go wherever they want as your vision spirals into a blur. A single droplet threatens to fall when a forceful hand yanks you back to reality.

It takes Jisung a moment to regain his regular breathing pace. And when he finally gets it, all he can do is call out to you with the same inaudible sounds and the same desperation in his eyes. It seems as though he’s fully aware that the prank was the stupidest, most irrational thing he’s ever done. But there’s more to the ocean within his eyes than just remorse.

“I already told you,” you clench your jaw and slap his hand away, “I don’t fucking know what you’re saying!”

A deep sigh. “Why am I mad? Of course, I’d be mad! It’s because of me that you lost your voice! It’s because I like you, too! Yet I never said it back… You lost your voice because of me! Don't you get it? Why can't you just hate me for the sake of it?!”

You miss his voice. You miss it a lot.

You want to hear it again. You want to hear him call you by your name. You want to stay up late and talk about anything to the ends of the Earth and back with him. You want him to be the obnoxious, chatty Han Jisung you've always known.

You miss how annoyingly loud he is.

“Y-Y...Y/N…!”

Jisung collapses onto his knees, a hand on concrete while the other is on his neck. His chest rises and falls unevenly, muffled noises of discomfort echoing deep down from his throat. Despite that, what you heard just now, is his voice.

“Answer me when I call your name. So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”

“I promised you, didn’t I,” you spread your arms and smile warmly, “That I’d always answer when you call my name. As long as I can still hear you, I will come running toward you over and over again. Doesn’t matter what it takes, doesn’t matter where you are.”

Jisung lifts his head and tears come rolling down on his cheeks. His throat feels swollen when he stutters with difficulties, trying to convey what’s in his head, “Y-Y/N, don’t- don’t go! Please don’t leave me...!”

“Come here,” you close your eyes with the widest grin on your lips, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Only when Jisung grows closer and throws his arms around you, sobbing into your uniform do you convince yourself that all of this isn’t a hallucination. The hug is a lot stronger than what you’d expect. First of all, you nearly fell over from the impact and your arms are pinned so tightly to your sides that you feel like your ribs are going to snap.

Everything is so overwhelming that all you can say is, “Ow.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles into your hair and loosens his arms a bit so you can loop your hands to the nape of his neck and hair.

“You’re so annoying, Han Jisung.”

He purses his lips, sniffling, “You tried to make me snap on purpose. Meanie.”

You quirk a playful brow, “Still like me now?”

“Yeah,” Jisung smiles, “A lot.”

Because he knows that he has you. Until every last star in the galaxy explodes as a supernova, Jisung has you.

[keanureevesisbae]

But professor… - epilogue

Summary: It's been a year and a half since their little baby was born. How are the two of them doing?

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 1.7k

Warnings: None

A/N: Is it the end for Penny and Walter? Yes, omg i can't believe. I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing it. The story took a full 180 (especially because I intended this story to be much shorter lol), but I'm very satisfied nonetheless 🥰

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter //

Declan has a plan and that is to go outside. I mean, it’s kinda fair, since he spend a lot of time inside today. Not that he complained. No, no, no, he was an absolute angel at the salon—like always—playing with his toys, while I was at work, but now he needs some fresh air after we had a quick snack at home.

This little man is definitely as head strong as his dad, however he isn’t as stubborn as Walter can be.

Declan attempts to throw a ball at me and I can see there is some definite improvement. Just like any kid at that age, he is distracted like that. ‘Momma, momma,’ he says, pointing to a truck that passes by. ‘Dada!’

‘Oh honey, that is not his truck,’ I say, crouching down next to him. ‘Dada is gonna become soon. In his other car. His work car.’

Declan points. ‘No dada?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Dada home?’

‘Almost,’ I say to him, giving him a kiss on his cheek. Declan stops playing altogether, staring at the road, waiting for Walter to come home. His mouth slightly agape, as he focused on every car that passes by.

Finally his car pulls up and I exclaim: ‘There he is!’ When Walter gets out of the car with a smile that is only this wide when he sees us, I let Declan go and watch him wobble over to his dad. With one hand he lifts the little boy up and presses kisses on his chubby cheek. ‘I missed you,’ Walter says, looking his son in the eye.

‘Dada miss, dada miss!’

He chuckles. ‘That’s right.’ He walks up to me and says: ‘There is my princess.’

‘Princess momma,’ Declan says.

‘Give me a kiss, sweetheart,’ he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. I press a peck on his lips and melt against his frame.

‘It went splendid,’ I say. ‘I actually got to do someone’s hair for an important interview and afterwards, she came back to the salon and told me it went great!’

He smiles. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

After Declan was born, I stayed home for about six months, acclimatizing to being a mom and those sleepless nights. It was hard, I cried a lot and I was very scared. I think I hung on the phone with my mom about seventy percent of the time, while calling Walter the remaining thirty percent. I have adjusted pretty okayish, especially when Walter went to work, made sure I have nothing to worry about.

No stress, providing for the two of us as much as he can and Declan and I sure are lucky that Walter is the love of my life.

My parents helped me financially to go to cosmetology school, which was an absolute blast. It was around fifteen minutes from my place and Declan was always allowed to come with me.

He sure wrapped everyone around his fingers with no issue at all.

While Walter still is that grumpy detective he was when I met him outside of our house, he changes into a big fluffy ball, shaped like a human the second the front door closes. No matter how tired he was, how long his shift was, he pushes it aside to take care of his family.

We walk inside of our place and I tell him: ‘I made dinner.’

While I’m not a world class chef, I do manage to make some decent meals, especially because I wanted to make Declan’s baby food, since my mom raised me with that as well (though I was no saint and had jars as well stored in my kitchen, just in case).

‘Princess, I’m so lucky to have you,’ Walter says. Once we’re inside, he places Declan in the high chair and scoots his own chair closer to it, a silent message that he will help Declan eat today. ‘Okay, little fella,’ Walter says, ‘you gonna be a good boy and not spill the food over me?’

Declan nods. ‘Deccie, good boy.’

I give Walter a kiss, after placing his plate and Declan’s in front of him. ‘He has been such a good boy at the salon today, so it’ll go great, I’m sure.’

After I sit across Walter, he asks about my day. From the looks of it, he had a rough one. Thankfully enough happened at the salon today for me to talk about. While we’re still working on improving him sharing more details, but I kinda understand. With Declan repeating a lot of words recently, we get a little bit more careful with what we’re saying.

After Dinner, Walter and I curl up on the couch after Walter changed into something more comfortable. Declan places his head on my chest, his eyelids growing heavier before he stretches out his hand to place on Walter’s chest.

I nuzzle against Walter’s side.

‘He is so cute,’ Walter notes.

I smile. ‘He sure is. He has your curls.’

‘But your pout and eyes. How can I ever say no to this kid?’

I shake my head. ‘You can’t, honey. I tried it today and it was the hardest thing in my life.’

He starts to chuckle softly. ‘You got nothing to do tomorrow?’

‘No, why?’

‘Can you come down the precinct? I wanna show off the two of you.’

I smile. ‘Oh my goodness, you are so predictable. Of course, I can come by. Maybe I’ll even steal some of my mom’s cookies, tell them I baked them.’

He chuckles. ‘Oh, you shouldn’t be lying when at the police.’

Declan stretches himself and whines a little bit. ‘Momma,’ he says, looking up to see me.

‘Oh, I think someone is really tired,’ I say. ‘You wanna go to bed?’

He nods. ‘Deccie tired.’

‘That’s what I thought.’

‘Here, sweetheart, I’ll do it. You relax, okay?’ Walter stands up and after I gave Declan a kiss, Walter lifts him up and carries the tired little one up the stairs.

I watch my big buff boyfriend walk back into the living room and he places the baby monitor in front of us, before he sits back on the couch. That monitor basically is glued to Walter’s hand as he always checks up on his boy. I thought I would be the parent that worries the most, however Walter puts me to shame.

The two of them are as thick as thieves and it makes me so grateful that we have a son together.

‘How was work today?’ I ask him.

He shrugs. ‘There was a dad who left his kids in the car,’ he says, ‘in the burning sun, before literally running away. Took us two hours before we found him.’

‘Oh no.’

‘Yeah, it was painful. The kids are gonna be okay, but… It reminds me that Declan is a really lucky kid.’

‘Do those kids have someone to go to?’

‘Yeah, an aunt,’ Walter says, rubbing his face. ‘Come here, princess.’

I wrap my arms around his neck, giving him a kiss on his lips. ‘I missed you.’

Walter smiles. ‘I missed you too. You have no idea how much it means to me to see you two in the yard, waiting for me. Especially after a shitty day like this one.’

‘You know you can always call me,’ I say. ‘Really, I always want to listen to you. You before anyone else, okay?’

He nods. ‘Have I already told you today that you are a very amazing mother and how lucky I am?’

I shake my head. ‘Nope, not today.’

He pulls me on his lap and gives me a peck on my forehead. ‘Just everything you do and say to him… It’s like you always know exactly what to do and you stay so patient and kind.’

‘Oh, Walter, that’s too sweet. I can guarantee: it’s all because you stayed—or at least pretended—to stay calm. Had you not done that, I would absolutely freaked out every time Declan had a funny breathing.’ I ruffle through his hairs and ask: ‘Have I been good to you as well?’

‘What kind of question is that? Of course you have. I’m so lucky that I have you and you and I have a family. There is no one else in the world I would rather have with me for important events.’ He places his hand on my sides, pushing up my shirt. ‘Give me a kiss, princess.’

I willingly oblige and press my lips on his. ‘I love you, Walter.’

‘Oh, I love you too. I want your honest opinion and really be honest, okay?’

‘Okay,’ I chuckle.

‘What do you say if you and I have another one?’

‘Another what?’

‘Kid.’

My eyes widen. ‘Really?’ I ask. He actually wants another kid with me? I mean, I always figured we would have more than one kid, but that would be in the future a little bit further away.

But already another one?

‘Yeah and I mean, if you’re not ready, then I totally understand and I won’t bring it up until you are ready, but I personally would love it.’ He smiles and adds: ‘I mean, two of the most beautiful babies running around here? Together with my beautiful girlfriend, who I’ll make my wife someday?’

I should not be squealing, yet I totally do. ‘Walter, honey,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘I’d love to have another baby with you.’

He starts to smile even wider. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, really. I’d love for Declan to have a few brothers and sisters.’

‘A few? How many you thinking about?’

‘I don’t know. How about three kids? Or four?’

He starts to laugh. ‘Then you and I better get some practice in with some baby making,’ he chuckles. ‘Because this time it’s not gonna be an accident.’

I slap him across his chest. ‘Walter, what did I say about that word?’

‘Oh, right right.’ He gives me a kiss and says: ‘Declan wasn’t an accident, he was our surprise baby. Forgot.’

I place my forehead against his, wrapping my arms around his neck. ‘Forever and ever, right?’

‘Forever and ever.’

[nancywheelxr]

i'm not sure if you prefer more specific prompts but if you have any interest, something canon-era (compliant or divergence) in the realm of "ye baiyi & every- or anyone"? whichever characters you wanna include; a moment or moments where he feels like maybe there is a little more to the rest of his life than duty and death. it's not only warm food he's been starved of for decades. your writing is great, i hope you're having a good day!

hi! thank you sm! i love getting prompts regardless, honestly, the only difference is that more specific ones tend to get done faster if only bc I already have a loose idea where to go with it! anyway, this somehow turned into a fix-it. that being said, I hope you’re having a lovely day too!

*

i.

They’re so painfully young.

A bird chirps in a tree somewhere nearby and around the fire, Qin Huaizhang’s disciple throws the blanket on the Wen brat’s face. What set off his sensibilities this time, Ye Baiyi doesn’t know, it might have been the perceived coddling, it might have simply been the fussing– either way, it’s pointless. Does he not know the brat will simply wait until he’s asleep to cover him? Does he not know their ridiculous dance around each other is nothing but time wasted?

How do the young ever get anything done?

Foolish. Have they ever been that foolish? Changqing, he knows, was a most ridiculous man with even more ridiculous ideas– who’s the bigger idiot, then, the fool or the one who loves him? 

“Ye-qianbei,” the boy appears at his side, wide-eyed like a newborn deer and with legs as shaky as one too, “if you’re cold, we have more blankets.”

The absurdity of the situation– to ask Ye Baiyi if he’s cold! What’s the night chill compared to the snowy grounds of his mountain? To him, is this not warm weather? “Little fool,” he says, shaking his head even as he laughs, “you’d do better worrying about your idiot master and his idiot friend.”

The kid looks across the fire, grimaces. “I don’t dare, I don’t dare! My brothers used to tell me not to get in the way when my parents were arguing!”

What a ridiculous child. Ye Baiyi laughs again. “They’re not arguing, they’re being dumb. Watch this,” he flicks a little rock at them, hitting Qin Huaizhang’s disciple in the forehead and earning an outraged glare from the Wen brat. “Qing Huaizhang’s disciple, your disciple is freezing off while you’re fooling around. Is this how you the two of you are going to raise your child?”

Beside him, the kid makes a startled little noise like a scared little rabbit before launching into a stuttering denial, but it’s too late, Qin Huaizhang’s disciple has already turned to focus on him as if smelling blood. “Chengling, are you cold? Why didn’t you say so?”

“Ah, no, no, I’m really not,” he tries, but he is, he wouldn’t have known to worry about others if he hadn’t been feeling the chill himself. “Ye-qianbei! Ye-qianbei–”

“Ah, ah!” Wen Kexing interrupts, shaking a finger in his direction, “why are you calling him? Come here, have this blanket since your Shifu is being stubborn.”

The boy goes obediently, shuffling around and nearly tripping on the log, and allows the Wen brat to wrap the blanket around his shoulders. Predictably, once he’s tucked in, the kid beams, pulling it tightly around himself. 

“Chengling, if you’re cold, you have to tell us,” says Qin Huaizhang’s disciple as if that’s a scolding, as if he’s not fussing over the child himself, stoking the fire and throwing in more kindling. 

A silly child with even sillier parents. Ye Baiyi snorts, shaking his head, and for a fleeting moment, he imagines walking this path alone– searching for the truth on his own, a silent forest stretching all the way to Longyuan Cabinet, only his footsteps left behind to prove he was even there at all– whatever. Picking up Qin Huaizhang’s dumb disciple and his dumb companions might not have been his worst decision so far. 

Maybe he could have found the place already if he were on his own, but at the very least they’re entertaining. Ridiculous, he thinks fondly, shaking his head at the blanket the kid has left folded at his feet.

*

ii.

What a mess.

Rong Xuan, you little brat, he thinks. How long has it been since the boy had first toddled up to him, little hands grabbing fistfuls of his robes? Too many, an eternity, and now nearly all of the boy’s friends are dead, all but one, and Ye Baiyi has to pay his respects to this freshly dug grave in his place. 

What a mess.

If you were in trouble, why didn’t you come back? Questions, questions, it’s too easy to ask them now. Why didn’t you ask for help? Why didn’t you send for us? Why did you think it would accomplish, running away? Stupid child, did you think we would turn you away? 

No, there’s no use asking them now, no point in dwelling in the past. What is there to change, after it already happened? Life is a very long road and the past is a land too distant to travel back to; Ye Baiyi would rather focus on the now.

Avenging their child had not been part of the promise he made to Changqing, but Ye Baiyi found the truth of this matter as he told him he would and the truth of it is that someone poisoned his disciple, his child. This cannot go unpunished, so for a while longer, he’ll live.

Further still, a little ways down, is Wen Kexing, whose parents died for Rong Xuan’s mistakes. A child growing up in a harsh world on his own. This debt, he’ll repay too.

For all that he gives his promises away like currency, Ye Baiyi is not sure how he feels about the piling of them– they stretch his finally numbered days, always pushing the deadline further. After the Heroes Conference, he’ll be done with the Ghost Valley. After he finds Rong Xuan’s murderer, he’ll be done with this mess. After he repays Wen Kexing, he will be at peace. 

And then–

Well. And then wine. Warm food. That was the plan, was it not? Heavens, he’s beginning to sound like Qin Huaizhang’s silly disciple, isn’t he? This won’t do. Changqing, even you would laugh at them. Tell me, then, if you were here, what would you do? Ah, something nonsensical, most likely, like go watch the plum trees bloom.

Ye Baiyi shakes his head, laughs. Changqing ah, won’t you tell me what to do? Maybe this time I’ll listen to you.

*

iii.

What kind of nonsense is this?

In all fairness, as much as his opinion of Wen Kexing has been as changing as the seasons, his uncanny ability to be an annoying nuisance has never flickered. He was annoying when he was staring down Ye Baiyi’s sword and he was annoying when he kneeled on the forest bed in apology and plea. 

Surely, it’s no surprise that he is annoying now, allegedly dead.

And yet, Ye Baiyi had not anticipated this level of stupidity from him: the brat did not tell Qin Huaizhang’s disciple of his plan.

Children, honestly. 

Now, the hem of his robes is wet and a few feet away, Qin Huaizhang’s disciple is wasting perfectly good wine in an unnecessarily dramatic manner. “Whatever stupid thing you’re planning,” Ye Baiyi says, eyeing the broken jar by the rocks, the dullness around the brat, “don’t.”

Zhou Zishu whirls on him with all the grace of a dying wet cat as if he’s in any condition to be fighting anyone, as if his hands weren’t shaking and his steps didn’t falter. The sword, once elegant and proud, wavers. Stupid boy. “Ye Baiyi, you–”

“Have you lost your manners down that jar? Or just your common sense? Put that away before I knock it off your hand myself,” he sighs, shaking his head. He should have stayed in his rooms, like planned, until the Heroes Conference; none of this has anything to do with him, his role in this play is mostly over, he just has to wait it out the intermission. And yet. “What kind of nonsense were you thinking? That fool, Wen Kexing, ran around for days like a headless chicken trying to save you and for what? You to throw it away?”

“What’s the point?” Qin Huaizhang’s disciple laughs, cold as the mountains, “what’s the point if he’s not here? Tell me, qianbei, why should I care to live if my soulmate is gone?”

His sword is dragging up the mud and Ye Baiyi wants to call him disrespectful for it, but the sight of it alone dredges up a well of grief that drowns the words in his throat. Why, indeed. This terrible emptiness, Ye Baiyi knows well– the hollow silence that comes where once a familiar voice called your name, the cold where once there was warmth, a hand never reaching back. Snow, all through summer and spring.

“Because that dumb disciple of yours will not last a day on his own,” he tells him, watching the water run towards the cliff’s edge, “because Qin Huaizhang has only you to pass on his legacy. Because that ridiculous hairpin on your head.”

“That’s not fair,” Qin Huaizhang’s disciple says, sounding exactly like he had been about to do something incredibly stupid earlier that would render this entire charade pointless from the start.

Truth be told, few things are, least of all, fate. Ah, but Ye Baiyi had unchanging decades to come to terms with that, perhaps he should spare the boy the heartache, unfounded as it is. “It’s not, but enough is enough. What are you crying for? Did you think it’s that easy to get rid of that pest? He should be ashamed if a little tumble is all it took.”

“Qianbei… you mean?”

Ye Baiyi heaves a pointedly tired sigh. “Yes, yes, the brat is alive. Probably holed up somewhere in that blasted valley of his.”

Qin Huaizhang’s disciple is as wide-eyed as his baby-deer disciple and if he actually starts crying, Ye Baiyi will drag Wen Kexing out of hiding kicking and screaming just to push him down the cliff again for making him witness this. He’s too old, he has little patience for the dramatics of the young, and he’s supposed to be drinking the best wine from the Yueyang area. 

So before he’s pulled even further into their nonsense, Ye Baiyi turns away, back to town and his quarters where he can drink and meditate in peace and really, Qin-xiaozi, your disciple is even sillier than you. 

At his back, he hears Zhou Zishu call, but his voice is lost to the waterfalls and Ye Baiyi makes no real effort to catch the words. What’s there to say? Pah, he’s already done more than his share on this, at no point did he promise to intervene on their pointless little dance. Once this is all over, that brat has better pay for all the wine in the land. And make those dumplings, too, for good measure.

*

iv.

Nobody told him whose wedding this is.

Considering they are in this thrice-damned place, he’s assuming it’s one of the ghosts, but Ye Baiyi figures the brat would be more annoying if it was his and Qin Huaizhang’s disciple’s. Then again, his own presence here is unfathomable, as is the insistence with which the little idiot had asked him to come. What on earth has Qin Huaizhang’s disciple told that child? Give someone an inch and they’ll take a mile, truly– now that boy is running around thinking Ye Baiyi cares about these lunatics.

“Who let him in!” Wen Kexing is screeching from somewhere, and Ye Baiyi mourns his peace as the brat approaches with his purple shadow trailing after. Had she been there this entire time? He squints. No, he would have noticed it, she’s very loud. “Old toad monster! Why are you still here? Who allowed you past the gates?”

“Who are you to tell me where to go?” He scoffs, flicking his sleeves as he crosses his arms. Nearby, a ghost hastily scurries away. “And it was your dumb disciple who begged me to be here. For what? Will there even be a banquet? And you call that decorations? That lantern is so crooked, it’s offensive!”

The purple child bristles. “Ah! And who does that silly boy think he is, inviting people to my wedding! Old man, you! Of course there’s gonna be food! Master and Luo-yi have been–”

“A-Xiang!” The brat cuts her off, closed fan tapping her forehead, as if everyone and their grandmothers don’t already know he’s been running around making preparations. What face is there to save, shameless as he is? If Ye Baiyi was a lesser man, he might have rolled his eyes. “Stop running your mouth, what is your husband going to say? And you! What crooked lantern? You’re going blind in your age!”

Still, even as he speaks, a pointed glare sends the ghosts scattering like mice, rushing to check on the decorations. Ridiculous. “No wonder the girl has no manners. What, you only know how to be polite when asking for something?”

Wen Kexing grumbles. “This one apologizes, qianbei.”

Well, that’s certainly worse. Unsettling. If even Wen Kexing starts being deferential, then what has the world come to? No, Ye Baiyi finds he’d prefer the brashness. Stupid child, what’s the point in changing his tune now? Pah. “Girl,” he says to that purple wisp of a thing, “your master is a pest. Where’s the wine?”

Baffling enough, the girl laughs, tugging at her master’s sleeves. “Master, master, Zishu-ge was right! You did make a friend!”

“What nonsense is this! Don’t you know when A-Xu is teasing? Friends! As if–”

“What rubbish have you been filling these children’s heads with?” He shakes a threatening finger in their direction. Not that it matters, considering the girl has already stepped back, giggling as she sidesteps Wen Kexing’s fan. 

Leaving them to their childishness, Ye Baiyi slips out of the crowd, picking a jar of wine as he goes. The alcohol is good, burning down his throat, and he hadn’t thought he’d step foot in the Ghost Valley, not like this. Something in him will always recoil at this place, always lay the blame at the valley’s mouth, a yawning jaw that’s swallowed whole the people most precious to him with no mercy. 

And yet, Changqing ah, you bastard, look at it. They’re holding a damned wedding, and here Ye Baiyi is, drinking their wine. Are you happy now? Did you become a bodhisattva yet? Fate makes fools of them all, there’s no way around it. He pours the wine over the rocks, lets it spill and run like blood. Xuan’er, did I not tell you not to climb so high? That shifu wouldn’t always be there to catch you if you slip on the ice? Ye Baiyi laughs at the memory– always clear in his mind, suspended in time, unfading, even if his sight blurs with tears– that boy, always scaring them half to death, climbing up the frozen mountainside as a child, then crying in fright once he looked down. 

“Look at the mess you’ve both left me,” he says out loud, downing the rest of the wine, and the silence is never quite as loud as in the hollow space where another would speak. For so long, Ye Baiyi knew to leave room for Changqing’s teasing, for their child’s incessant questions, even Rong-furen’s tired voice. Then, nothing. “What do you have to say for yourself, hm? Typical. I’ll drink for all of us this time, then, how about it? Changqing, I’m keeping my promises, so you’d better keep yours or I’ll–” 

The jar breaks where it falls from his fingers and he shakes his head as if dispelling the murky thoughts from his head. Perhaps, coming here was a mistake. The ashes have already been sent back to Changming, so what business does he have in this place? To see it closed with his own eyes? Besides, a wedding or two, a handful of people, are not worth the bloodshed creating the valley has brought, no matter what Changqing might say. 

Is this a comforting story to be told later, if– by the bridge, in case– 

His thoughts grind to a halt, veering off suddenly into attention to his surroundings. Someone is coming. Indeed, from his place near the entrance, Ye Baiyi can see in the distance a mob climbing up the path, silent as thieves in the night, with only a blue streak of disciples in plain sight at the front.

So much for avoiding bloodshed. Did they even wait for the dust to settle after the monks left town? And what kind of harebrained scheme is this? Has this generation been born with no brains? Such a reckless, petty move! No honor, agreeing to something and then plunging the knife behind their backs. 

There is little time to curse their dishonesty, though, with their numbers fast approaching, so Ye Baiyi swipes a last look at the desolate landscape and slips back inside to sound the alarms. After all, heaven knows that little purple girl will be terribly loud if she doesn’t get her wedding, and Ye Baiyi is not looking forward to remembering what headaches feel like. Honestly, if these people would stop nearly dying for five fucking minutes–

*

v.

Today, the mirror showed a new patch of white hair, faint lines at the corner of his eyes. 

Time, it seems, is catching up to him.

It’s exhilarating.

The plum trees have already lost their blossoms, winter gone as swiftly as it came, the cold melting to the lingering warmth of spring. Today, he walks past blooming azaleas, purple and red radiant against the blue backdrop of the sky.

It brings him to little Qin Huaizhang standing beside Rong Xuan, trying so very hard to impress his friend’s seniors with all the desperation of youth. The poetry he had waxed about his sect’s gardens– Four Seasons Manor, blooming all year round! Ye Baiyi had found him so silly, blabbering while Rong Xuan beamed, so quick to pick the fights Rong Xuan dropped. 

At the time, had he not thought history was repeating itself, if kinder? The Baiyi sword, gifted with the promise to keep his dumb disciple out of trouble? He still remembers Changqing’s face, the hypocrite. So exchanging swords for cursed books is fine, but anything else and you draw the line? At least promises were as reliable as the person making them. 

Now, he has to admit, the silly boy had not been wrong– Four Seasons Manor stands in more color than Ye Baiyi had thought possible. If he’ll have time to witness all its blooms, he doesn’t know, but this spring, he’s here, and isn’t that enough?

At the gates, the young disciple lets him in without a word, bowing respectfully like his seniors have never done. Good. At the very least, those two good-for-nothing brats had the decency to forewarn their juniors of his arrival. How long has it been since Qin Huaizhang’s disciple woke up from the procedure? Aiyah, Ye Baiyi can’t remember, he had been traveling south at the time. 

Well, it’s long enough to be past the need for coddling, that’s for sure. “Qin Huaizhang’s disciple, what kind of Sect Leader are you that you won’t come greet your esteemed guest?”

“Not really a Sect Leader,” comes the voice from his left as Zhou Zishu rounds into view, his silly disciple trailing faithfully after him. He looks better now, death no longer draped over his shoulders like a shroud, smiling like he found peace somewhere in the months since that disastrous wedding. “Qianbei, this one is honored to welcome you to our house. You’ve come at a good time, A-Xiang is visiting with her husband too.”

“Who’s an esteemed guest here? All I’m hearing is a bunch of freeloaders!” says Wen Kexing from somewhere inside the building, just as loud and brash as always, and following his words, the thundering footsteps of children. 

Ye Baiyi snorts, shakes his head. Changqing ah, wait a little while longer, will you? I’m on my way, but I have some places to visit first. Meet me by the bridge, I’ll tell you all about it in a bit.

[giorno-plays-piano]

No Mercy

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x thief!Reader

Warnings: non-con, yandere, sex pollen, minor depiction of violence, threats, stalking, allusion to kidnapping, both Bakugo and reader are adults!

Words: 2388.

Summary: Obviously, you have chosen a wrong night to rob that electronics store.

P.S. Yay, this is my first BNHA story! 

By the way, there is absolutely no real science in this fic, please don’t bully me for it ahahahah

_________________________

Oh dear, it was getting worse.

That morning you had a feeling you better stay home tonight, but your rent wasn't going to pay itself, so you still went out to rob that ugly little electronics store you stumbled upon a few days ago. Now you were being chased by one of the most popular pros, Ground Zero, and saints, you really hoped to keep all your limbs attached to your body: the guy was mad.

Really, you weren't such a villain he had probably pictured you to be. Your job in the cafe wasn't paying well, but with no education whatsoever it was hard to find something else, especially since that big makeup store you finally got yourself in went bankrupt after a villain attack. Your dad wasn't the one to help you stay afloat either, so, with that odd Quirk of yours, there was just one thing left to do.

With a loud sound of something exploding to your right, you jumped in the narrow back alley on the left and prayed Bakugo to at least bring you to a police station instead of finishing you off here. Seriously, who he thought you were? Someone from the League of Villains, huh? You were miserable enough trying to evade his punches, and your knees were already trembling as you were reaching your limit.

Shit, now you'd have to use that embarrassing Quirk of yours and hope it will do something decent.

Despite your Quirk manifesting itself when you were 4 just like everybody else, you were so ashamed of it you did all you could to never bring it up or use it. How embarrassing was it to have an ability to produce animal secretion right out of your hands? One time you had literally sprayed skunk defensive secretion in the class, and after that you had been called a Stinky Girl for the rest of your school days. Damn, even remembering it now was making you ashamed of yourself.

Of course, your control over your Quirk was miserable. You struggled to predict which secretion it would produce, hoping it would be something distracting enough for a hero to let you go, but oh boy Ground Zero didn't seem like the type to be scared of skunk's spray.

Staring at the dead end, you were ready to laugh hysterically - that is, if you had any time left, but Bakugo had already grabbed you by the shoulder and yelled something offensive in your ear, ready to put you down to the ground. Well, it was now or never.

Within a second you took off your black glove you'd always worn on your missions and slapped hero's cheek, leaving an angry red mark on his pale skin. The next moment you were on the ground with a very, very mad Bakugo hovering over you with such expression as if he was going to murder you in cold blood right now.

Apparently, your Quirk was useless, after all. Preparing for the worst, you stared at him, wide-eyed and trembling like a leaf, your hands up defensively to prevent him from harming you. In the end, you didn’t even steal anything as Ground Zero stormed off in the store.

But he didn't hit you. Actually, he didn't do anything at all as you stared at him nervously. He just... stood there with a grimace on his face and did nothing at all.

Oh, was it something new? Did you Quirk finally prove itself useful for once? It was a damn miracle.

"What did you do to me, bitch?" He suddenly barked, and you saw his cheeks slowly getting red as if the temperature went up all of a sudden. "What the fuck is this?!"

Shit. Civet oil. Of course, you couldn't even make some decent quantity to make him repulsed, so now all you got was a completely opposite effect.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?"

Hiccupping, you got up just as he seemed to lean closer to you, so you ended up smashing your forehead against his, and both of your groaned. Although you fell back again, in a couple of seconds you were running for your life with Ground Zero being unusually slow somewhere behind you. Oh shit, now he was going to fuck and kill you. What a nice day you were having.

Struggling to keep running - you didn’t even understand at what part of the city you were now - you were getting out of breath, but you no longer heard Bakugo behind your back, and it was certainly calming. Did civet oil make him slow? You weren't sure what exact effects it had except for the most obvious one. Maybe you got lucky, for once. Maybe he'd let you go just this time, and you'd do your absolute best to find a decent job and stop robbing people. Well, you weren't even robbing regular people, just snobby store owners who'd get their money back with an insurance, anyway. You had never hurt anyone physically! Why treating you as if you were some dangerous criminal?

Whatever. Ground Zero was nowhere to be seen, so you simply landed on the ground in one of small filthy backyards in a shady part of the city. Oh boy, what a run. You thought the guy was literally ready to kill you.

The cold wall you leaned on didn't feel pleasant, but it was better than staying on your feet with your knees trembling and heart beating so fast as if you ran a marathon. Yeah, to think of it, you definitely could call it a marathon.

As you finally took off your mask and wiped your face with your palm, you heard a low growl somewhere to your left, "I'm gonna fucking break you, woman."

Shit.

Scrambling to your feet, you tried dodging him but you were no match to a real pro, especially someone as good at combat as Ground Zero: you ended beneath him within a second, painfully slammed to the ground as he cursed at you, pulling your hair. Apparently, this was the end of you. The civet oil only made the hero more enraged instead of distracting him.

"Ah! It hurts!" You whined at the hair pulling and heard a dangerous hiss above you.

"Do you think this doesn't fucking hurt?"

It was impossible not to feel his obvious arousal, his painfully hard cock pressing against your lower back as the hero suddenly sniffed your hair, then making some weird noises while trying to undo his pants. Nononono, you weren't having this, you'd gladly accompany the hero to the police station where they'd cuff you and put you in prison but not let Ground Zero have his way with you.

"Get off! GET OFF!"

Your attempts to throw him off were futile, and soon he was pulling down your own pants, "You did this to me, didn't you?! So be a good girl and maybe I won't fucking kill you."

You bit down on your lower lip, your hands bound together with his belt.

Huh, there was no other way.

______________

You came back home around 3 am completely exhausted, dirty and hurt, but it was still better than being thrown in prison after a long Interrogation in a police station. Ground Zero had finally taken some pity on you after all he'd done - oh it hurt, it hurt so bad in between your thighs because you hadn't been in relationship for long, but the hero was neither patient nor gentle with you. It was a miracle he actually let you go after this miserable incident somewhere in the outskirts of the city. Was he at least a little ashamed at what he did? Did he feel any remorse? Although it certainly didn't seem like, maybe he let you go because of it.

"Or he was just afraid to deliver me to police in such state," you chuckled grimly at yourself, grabbing first-aid kit and trying to do something with all these bruises and bites. You still had to take your 10-hour shift in the cafe today, and you could barely imagine how you were going to survive.

Of course, you only slept for a couple of hours before you had to get up: that morning you put so much makeup your boss would definitely scold you, but it was better than showing up with a face of a zombie. Of course, everyone managed to see how you winced while walking. Thank god you were able to convince them of your fall yesterday's evening: you actually only worked half a day as your boss took pity on you and let you go home.

Shit, it was time to put an end to your night adventures. You'd better find one more job and work a whole night long than live through this one more time, humiliated and hurt.

By the time you got home with a grocery bag in your hand, you felt like all you were going to do today was falling down on your bed and staring into the ceiling for hours. It still hurt. It was still embarrassing to remember what he did to you. You still wanted to slap him real hard and then yell at him at the top of your voice.

Funny enough, you actually had a chance to do all that since you found Ground Zero dressed as civilian sitting on your couch.

For a couple of seconds you froze on your place, unable to believe your eyes. What the hell was he doing here? What, yesterday's wasn't enough for this bastard, was it? Did he come to make you even more miserable?

Despite fear rising in your chest, it was soon replaced by fury mixed with disgust: who did he think he were to just break into your apartment like this? You might be a thief, but even you had the right to be delivered to police and then wait till the court decided upon your punishment. Nobody had given Ground Zero permission to rape you or follow you like some sick stalker!

"You live in some fucking hole." He grumbled as he saw you walking much slower than your usual pace, and you thought it was guilt you saw on his face for a mere second.

"Welcome to a fucking hole, then." You hissed at him in return and put your bag on the floor while taking your shoes off and wincing from pain. "If you came to finally take me to a police station, let me put food in the fridge, at least."

Not that you'd need it after your arrest, but the thought of leaving the grocery bag on the floor and let the food rot made you nauseated. You detested throwing away food with all your heart.

"Food? You call this food, huh?" He was already peeking inside the bag and scrunching his face at the sight of cheep noodles and gyoza.

"Yeah, we call it food here, rich boy." You let out a growl, mad at his attempts to make you feel humiliated even more than you already did.

He clearly didn't expect such treatment from someone whom he had taken advantage of so easily, and for several moment the man had a perplexed expression, unable to believe you were so brave despite the fact your knees were trembling. He probably thought it was a facade, but you didn't care. All this wouldn't end well for you, anyway.

"I'm not rich." He sent you a glare, and you felt like laughing in his face.

"If you don't have to steal to pay your rent, you're rich."

He grimaced but said nothing at all as you went to the kitchen, dragging the bag with you. You wondered if he felt sorry for you, but you didn't want his pity. Not from the one who did this to you. In fact, the only thing you wanted from him was leaving you alone.

Besides, you kept thinking why on Earth wasn't he dressed as a hero if he came explicitly to take you to a police station? Heroes like him loved showing off, you were sure. Why did he come like this? If he thought of repeating yesterday's night, you'd fucking stab him in the groin with a kitchen knife.

"So, how many heroes have you fucked like that?"

You felt a sudden urge to stab him right now and barely kept yourself away from a box where you kept cutlery. "I do three heroes a day and three villains at night," you growled at him, disgusted with his attitude, "what, didn't you feel it when you were raping me?"

Your reply took him aback, but he recovered quickly, "Who was raping you, silly woman? You did it to yourself!"

"Yeah, I've always dreamed of being taken by some sickening, primitive hero in a dirty alley, that's more than any girl could ask for."

Huh, apparently, cat got his tongue: Ground Zero stared at you, unable to believe your words. What, did he really think you loved being treated like this? Did he have any idea what making love was? Anything about normal, adequate relationship between a man and a woman? Maybe you weren't the most law-abiding woman in the city, but you were still a decent person, and the fact that Ground Zero expected you to manipulate him into raping you was repulsive.

"Listen, just hand me over to police already. What are you waiting for, Ground Zero?"

All the food was long put in the fridge and kitchen cabinets. Staring intensely at the man who shouldn't even be here, you crossed your arms over your chest, expecting him to drag you out of the house, but when he stepped closer to you it felt suffocating. Shit, the fear was coming back when you saw his expression darkened, his red pupils dilating when he grabbed your arm above the elbow and pulled you to him. Was he really going to do this to you?

You expected him to snap at you, but when he spoke he sounded strangely cold and collected.

"First, you will call me Bakugo from now on," he voice was dangerously low, "Second, I haven't come all the way here to bring to a fucking police station. You will come with me, do you understand?"

_______________

I didn’t put my regular taglist here since it was only made for Marvel fics, but please let me know if your want to be on my BNHA taglist, too!

[hughiecampbelle]

Being Pollys Long Lost Child Would Include: (Part #1)

Showing up the Small Heath with nothing but a suitcase and a vague idea of where to go

You actually run into your cousins/brother before you even know who they are on the way there

Breaking through their group right down the middle, unaware of who the Peaky Blinders are

A few yell or tease, but you don't care, not when it's this important

Telling Michael to fuck off when he makes a comment about how rude you are, unaware he's actually your brother

Still, you won't let those assholes ruin your big day

Staring down the front door

What does someone say in a situation like this?

Sorry I didn't visit sooner, I never knew you existed? Did you ever give up a child so many years ago looks like you? Do you have any kids?

You barely knocked twice before the door swung open

You weren't sure who to picture. . . . the woman all those people described seemed like a million women. . . Sometimes she was a mastermind, other times a drunk, she could be feared or admired, smart or stupid. . .

Instead all you saw were her big brown eyes and look of distrust

"Yes?"

"Are you, uh. . . did you. . . I'm y/n, I think you might be my mother."

The statement comes out stuttered and flunky, but it's strikes her none of the less, leaving her quiet for a moment

Anna was dead, Michael had come home, but they never found her baby

She couldn't let herself get her hopes up, knowing anyone could have set you up to this now that business was growing and so was their list of enemies, but she couldn't deny you if it really was true

Against her own judgement, she let's you in before anyone sees you

She knew she shouldn't have, but when you're sitting there, before her, she can picture all the times you were a baby

How your features matched, though of course that had been a long time ago, maybe she was just making it up to match for her own good

She thought about you every day, about the life you could have lead, the person you would have become, it made her sad, but hopeful, the same way she felt when she thought about Anna

You let her look, and after a while, she spoke up

"What did you say your name was?"

It's not the name her baby had, but you were so young, she figured they could have renamed you the way Michael's parents had

You found yourself telling her everything, talking before you could stop yourself or even realize what you were saying, wanting to unveil something that would convince her you were hers

From your parents, to your siblings, your grades in school and all the detentions you'd gotten, the friends you made and the hobbies you had

You never told anyone about all the times you felt different, strange, like you didn't quite fit in, and yet you were telling a complete stranger all of it and more

It wasn't until you mentioned your baby blanket, the one you'd actually brought with you, did it catch her attention

That was one thing your parents neglected to change

Polly was the one to sew the holes in it, passing it down from your siblings to you, she recognized her own stitching

Suddenly you're in her arms, being called another name

You found her, you found your mother

If Polly could have kept you for herself, she would have, knowing the kind of world you were walking into, the dangers you would face by associating yourself with her

In return, she tells you about your brother and sister, stories about you as a baby, memories coming back before she can stop them

The time your sister dressed you up and pretended you were one of her dolls, when your brother thought he could trade you in for a puppy

Like Michael, you're thrown into the family before you know what's going on

The boys burst through the door, all of them talking at once, interrupting your time together

"What are you doing here?" You question, recognizing Michael

"Me? Who the fuck are you?" The two of you look to your mother and Polly knows, just by your fighting, you're her baby

Being introduced to an army of relatives all at once

Your cousins are welcoming, friendly, the oldest ones laughing, teasing about how chubby you were as a baby

Your attitude towards your brother doesn't change, he's a pain in the ass already, but you'd never had an older sibling before, you figured he wasn't the worst of the worst, right?

Besides, you barely know one another, you hope it'll get better the more you get to know one another

It doesn't take her long to explain the business

You're curious, and observant, two things that work in your favor and against your mothers

You're not naive either

Sure, you didn't grow up with any of this, and though your parents tried to shelter you, you always knew where to find trouble

The way they cling to one another, how the crowds disperse, the mere mention of your family name, the gleam from their caps, this was not the kind of business one would brag about being part of, at least not in the company of others

You weren't stupid

Still, Polly tries to keep you away, at a distance, as do the rest of your family

You're still a kid in their eyes, but you make that pretty hard

It becomes clear what your parents were trying to hide from you, protect you from, but you weren't scared like they were, you were fascinated

It also becomes clear how easy you fit into it all, becoming a shadow to your mother, your brother, anyone who will let you follow and watch until you show them just how much you've learned

This lifestyle was dangerous and addictive, and like the rest of your family, you understand the appeal, much to your mother's dismay

Eventually she lets you in, let's you practice shooting a gun with your brother, go to the bar with your cousins, sit in on family meetings

Her one rule is that you are never, under any circumstances, alone

You take to the lifestyle quite easy despite her fears

The feeling you've always had where you never could quite fit in with your family, your siblings, even the kids around you, it all went away

Being paired up with Finn a lot since you two are the youngest

You don't mind all the time though

He teaches you a lot of tricks with his brothers, the other blinders, ways to get people to listen to what he has to say, share all their secrets

You prove yourself not only worthy of the Gray name, but also your place in the business as well

You don't quite idolize Thomas as much as your brother does, and when you can't bite your tongue any longer, it can get you into trouble

Luckily, your mother is always ready to stick up for you

She catches herself calling you by the name she gave you, and though you're not quite ready to take it, you know she means well

"Fuck off, Michael."

"I'm telling mum you said that."

"Snitch."

Fighting with your brother becomes normal, not all out of hatred anymore, but a constant, dull annoyance

You begin to find your place here, in the job, the family, everything

Part of you hates to admit that you don't miss who you used to be, who you thought you were going to be

Your parents knew you were smart, but they always assumed you'd live a life like theirs, one of safety, predictability, a life that was boring

Here, you had a life of excitement, danger, one that kept you on your toes, where moving up in the world was something to work towards, not just dream of

Polly knew what you were leaving behind, and she wouldn't have stopped you or blamed you if you decided to turn back, but it was the happiest day of her life when you knocked on that door

You were giving her the second chance she always wanted

Your parents, on the other hand, are anything but happy

You call home a few times, assuring them you miss them, you're thinking of them, you might visit, and that you're happier than ever, but your parents know something is up

Word spreads quick in a small place like yours

Rumor spread you'd run off with a secret partner, skipped town after getting into trouble again, joined the circus

The more time that passed, the crazier they became

But your parents knew

They should have suspected you were lying from the beginning, that you were after the one thing you' d always asked about, that you figured out all along what they'd kept secret. . . . .

Now they regretted not seeing it before

It takes a little while for them to figure out where you went, where Polly ended up, but they found you again, and they were coming to bring you home once and for all

A/N: Ahhh okay I know I kinda left it on a cliffhanger!!! I hope this part was as good as the first!!! There might be a third idk yet :P

[impaladolan]

Control Freak - Grayson Dolan

summary: after Choff production lines CEO (finally) retires, a new boss makes his way into Y/N’s world..

warnings: sexual references/undertones

a/n: another Grayson series, i can’t help myself :)) enjoy!! also, ily <3

Ugh, he was in one of his moods again.

The office cubicles were hastily bustling with nervousness and terror. At any given moment, the infuriated man, so-called boss, will be bursting through the double doors with a dark red tint across his cheeks and maybe even smoke out of his ears, if you're lucky.

Mr. Kidman has never been good with the whole "patience is a virtue" thing, he's a ticking time bomb at all hours of the day. Nothing ever satisfies him, nor remotely excites him, he just finds something to yell and scream about at some poor unfortunate soul and then continues his merry day. But today, he was furious. He had no empathy for anyone, even his favorite two little secretaries that wear push-up bras like a side-job. Apparently someone had brought him the wrong breakfast order and everything just went downhill from there.

Unlike all the others, you seemed calm and composed amongst all this mayhem, but only because you, and maybe two others, knew that 'Old Angry Kidman' was finally retiring. Yep, freedom at last. Well, unless the new guy, or girl, has terrible anger issues.

So you just sat at your clean and pristine desk, typing another draft and adding it to the plentiful piles saved on your work computer, while soundlessly chewing on a mint piece of gum that substituted for the absence of a tooth brushing the morning of. But your quick finger movements were hushed once Mr. Kidman, as predicted, flew straight through the doors with his signature fiery red face and sweat droplets dotting his thinning hairline. "Every body fucking up! I've fucking had it with all of you." He demands, majority of the room raising from their seats with caution. With his teeth tightly gritted and his lips in a fine line, he swirls his index finger in the air, motioning to all of his terrified workers.

"If it were my fuckin' decision, I'd have each and everyone of you pieces of shits fired and on the streets in point ZERO-TWO seconds. You all are fucking lucky that this is my last day here, son's of bitches." A man of few nice words, that he is. The nicest thing you've ever heard him say was thank you, and that was two years ago. His vulgar and aggressive attitude truly brings the worth of working this job down. If it weren't for the good pay and lack of any other remotely feasible company jobs, you would've quit a long time ago.

But alas, you still endure the inevitable fiery reign of his obstructive wrath on the daily.

-

Dolan is his name.

The new boss, that is. That's the only information you and the rest of the staff knew, besides that he's a male. He hasn't shown up for work yet, or even formally introduced himself. Hell, you don't even know what he looks like. But you were certainly nervous for his arrival.

What if he's just like Kidman, or worse?

It most certainly made you nervous to think that this new guy could ever be worse than Kidman. You were hoping and praying that the he'd at least value his workers and employees.

Everyone, on your office floor, was anticipating the days and hours of his big arrival. No one was certain of when he was going to show up, or if. But nonetheless you were one of the most nervous ones. You held the highest title among your coworkers, except CEO of course, but you were pretty up there when it came to business standards. Everyone seemed to like you as well, your kind nature and natural non-brutal attitude sure did make up for other people's. Of course, you didn't really have an office of your own, because you enjoyed the time spent with the people around you. You truly loved the relationship and humbleness you gained from it. At least you weren't a snotty bitch, right?

There were plenty of little rumors around the workspace that you'd become the new (and improved) owner of this whole entire manufacturing company. Specifically a well known fashion line, Choff. The floor that you, and many of the other leading workers, were on was basically the information database. But from time to time, you'd find yourself strolling through the other, more clothing/model filled areas. Just to see how things were flowing.

Which is actually what you're doing in this moment; running your fingers along the racks filled with hangers that held all the fitted clothing items. It seemed like fun to be down here, measuring and sewing the different outfits to the men and women, but it also seemed stressful. Everyone's always in a rush, with their exploding New York accents and their flailing around all over the place. It's pretty amusing to watch from afar, but you'd be scared to get in anyone's way. They'd probably just run you over and continue their day unaffected.

With that thought in mind, you abruptly come to a stop when you run into the muscular backside of someone, startling you from your stare on the tiled flooring. You uttered a few apologies, taking a step back and straightening your pencil skirt from its newfound wrinkles.

"Lost, darling?" Your eyes trail the floor before you until they're stuck on a pair of shiny dress shoes, attached to a pair of long legs and a broad chest. Your eyes finally landed on the remarkably handsome face, of someone you didn't quite recognize. It wasn't uncommon to stumble across unknown employees, but could it be him?

"Frankly, no." You shortly answer, studying his jaw-dropping features. He was indubitably perfect, without a doubt. With a nicely trimmed beard decorating his beautifully shaped jawline, and big hazel eyes that stared right back at your own, he seemed unearthly. Like he was God's favorite angel sent down from heaven, just to show you a glimpse of what it'd really be like inside the pearly gates. "Are, um, you?" You weren't exactly nervous, just mystified. His recent smile grew into what seemed to be a smirk, while his right side's dimple grew more prominent.

"I'd like to say that I'm not, but I sadly am." He shrugs with a chuckle, sending a wave of unbeknownst pleasure through your ears and fluttering down your spine, until the ends of your toes were satisfied with his deep and raspy voice. "Could you maybe show me around this gigantic place? I've been in need of assistance for the last hour or so." He questions you, dropping his shoulders back and letting his eyes roam your stature before drifting to the interior of the long hallway the two of you are currently standing around in. "I very well could, but I have a dreadful meeting to attend to within the next five to ten minutes." Actually, the meeting was in fifteen minutes. You just simply wanted to see the man's reaction, which wasn't what you though it'd be;

"Perfect, I'll be in attendance for that as well. If you'd so kindly lead the way, I would most appreciate it." He smoothly negotiated, stuffing his right hand, which was tightly wrapped with an expensive looking watch, into his pocket with another grin. He seemed very eloquent with his words and the way he addressed things, it has to be him?

"Do you mind me asking of your name?" You began as you started your trek back to where you came from, your heels quietly clicking from beneath you as you lead the way, him following close behind. "Dolan, Grayson Dolan." He quickly answered. Indeed you were right in thinking he was the new (and maybe improved) CEO of all Choff productions. "New head guy?"

He only nods, to yet another one of your endless questions. "And what's your name, darling?" He asks as the two of you stop at an elevator, his quick hand beating yours to clicking the slightly worn down button. "Y/N Y/L/N, direct head management under you." You relay before boarding onto the empty elevator, the doors closing moments after the two of you were stood side by side. You fidget with the ends of your skirt, staying as calm as possible under his stare that you couldn't help but shrivel under.

"Under me, huh?" You almost gulped at the sound of his double meaninged phrase. Smart guy, hm? Your heart started beating a bit faster the more you thought of his little statement. Your mind became a whirlwind of visuals and fantasies before you could even stop it. Just those two little words had made you all sorts of a mess, and he hasn't even done much of anything. "Don't get too worked up darling, we have a meeting to attend." He chuckles as he steps off the elevator that had opened only seconds ago. You just scoff, your cheeks reddening as you stride right past him, maneuvering through the expanse of people that had just left the staff room, in order for the upcoming meeting to advance.

The moment you were sat in the room and time had passed to where everyone had finally shown up, you felt that lingering feeling of eyes on you. A pair of hazel eyes to be exact, who was sat far from you at the end of the long table. For meeting him not too long ago, he sure did seem comfortable around everyone. It was entirely too soon for you to be liking him already, better yet imagining different scenarios with him as someone boringly rambled. You decided that you'd forget him for the time being and focus on your job, as much as possible.

Though it would be granted as difficult as time moved on..

"That's the conclusion of this meeting. I thank everyone for being here, and I especially appreciate your appearance, Mr. Dolan. I'm happy to say that things around here will continue a lot smoother than it did in the past. And I know most others would agree." Burt Wallace, one of the coordinators, concluded after standing from his seat to dismiss everyone with a nod. While everyone dillydallied in conversations with one another, you in the other hand, hustled straight out of that room and towards the same elevator you had used earlier. The moment you clicked the button, the doors opened wide and you hopped in, tucking yourself in the corner while you gained your breath. You smile to yourself at the successful 'escape' from any questions or perhaps a witty comment from a certain CEO on the loose.

You sigh happily to yourself, watching the doors close again until a hand is stuck between them, pushing them straight back to reveal the man you were somewhat avoiding. "Care if I join you again?" He asked, but he still entered otherwise, clicking one of the many buttons to make the door close. "Did I have a choice?" You almost scoff, feeling his shoulder brush against your own as he stood in the same spot he had previously stood in. "Nah, not really, but I like to seem like a little bit of a gentleman." He answers, the roll of your eyes substituting for the internal scoff that you hadn't let out. The two of you rode in silence for what seemed to be eternity, only the faint sounds of your breaths being heard. As soon as the elevator door clanged and opened, you made a beeline out of there and hustled toward your organized workspace like there was a snake chasing you.

"What's the rush?" Ana Rita, one of the only tolerable women in this entire building, asked as you ducked under your desk. Even though you hadn't looked back to check, you had a feeling he'd follow you, or worse, ask you to meet him in his office. You weren't exactly sure why you were hiding from him, he seemed pretty nice. But he truly intimidated you. Not in a competitive way, more so a physical way. "And why the fuck are you down there?" The redhead crinkled her brows as she looked down her long nose at you. "Just, shhhh!" You bellow quietly, covering your pursed lips with your index finger.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Hot man, six o'clock! Get your ass out of there!" She violently whispered at you, frantically tidying herself for the "hot man," presumably Mr. Dolan as you had predicted, approached your desks. You tightly hug your knees from under your desk, praying to god that he wouldn't somehow see you. "After noon, sir, may I help you?" You cringe at the seductive tone lined in her voice, something that Mr. Dolan unfortunately probably gets a lot of. "I'm looking for Ms. Y/L/N, I have some issues to discuss with her." Yet again, his girthy voice made you sigh with comfort. It's extremely calming to listen to.

"She's actually right here—" Ana, the little asshole she is in this moment, points straight at you as you plead with your eyes and shake your head vigorously. You suddenly see his handsome head peer over at you, his brows scrunched with confusion. "Uhm, cords were messed up, gotta fix them." You awkwardly chuckle, patting the outlet box stuffed with all your monitor's cords. You bring yourself out from below your desk as the two stared at you, dusting your front side and settling down in your office chair with a nervous smile.

"I'd like to have a word with you, in my office."

(masterlist)

[oh-boy-me]

Alright I'm curious about your take on movie night with the undateables, including Luke since this is non- romance. Snack preferences, what movies they choose, funny stories from movie night. Whatever strikes your fancy with the idea is good with me. Thanks in advance!

Sorry it took a little bit (´ω｀。) It’s my first time working with these characters so I wanted to give it my absolute best

I’m setting this up as individual movie nights so that each character can get the spotlight for a while; I hope that’s ok!  Also, a lot of them somehow ended up in a context of it being the first time you’d hung out one on one lol

Simeon:

It feels like Simeon spends just about all of his time with Luke and Solomon, while you spend just about all of yours with the brothers.  So, you decide to have a movie night to finally spend some time together without having to divide your attention.  Purgatory Hall is the obvious choice of location, since its residents are much more ready to leave you alone when asked.

This angel is a traditional kind of guy, as angels tend to be, so popcorn is the only snack idea that comes to mind.  Traditional doesn’t mean close-minded, though, so he’s more than willing to try out any snacks you bring along.  Actually, he encourages you to bring a bunch of snacks to try out together!  You can have a taste test while you watch the movies!

Simeon likes Hallmark movie-type movies a lot, mainly because they demand little emotional investment.  Movies like horror don’t scare him, but they do stress him out because he wants all the protagonists to get their happy ending!  Another benefit of Hallmark movies is that it’s fun to try to guess exactly what will happen, since they can be so predictable.

Of course, he doesn’t want to monopolize your movie lineup, so if there’s something you want to see he’s all for it.  If you want to go for something more thrilling, he’ll power through it like a champ, but you can see him visibly cringing at some points.

Simeon is lowkey a movie cuddler, but like in a way that still respects your personal space bubble.  He won’t spend the film with you in his arms or anything, but the entire couch is fair game.

Simeon apparently likes to talk during movies–he doesn’t mean to, but the thoughts kind of just come out.  He’s brutally honest about what he’s thinking, so if you’re down with it, talking about and roasting the movie as it’s happening is a load of fun.  “I don’t know MC, I don’t think this guy’s all that great either?  Sure maybe he isn’t completely ignoring her, but look, he obviously has commitment issues; at least her ex was just busy all the time.  Look, Mr. Lone Wolf’s beard is uneven.  Why does she want a man who wants to look rugged but can’t get it right?”

Simeon also will accidentally spoil any movie he’s already seen like this, so you’re best off watching films that are new to both of you.

He knew that you were a nice and fun person, but honestly he’s kind of taken aback by how good you are to be around.  Since the only human he’s usually around is Solomon, talking to one and not feeling like you need to second-guess everything you’re told is a new and welcome feeling.

Before you split for the night, he asks if you’d like to do something like this again.  As an angel, there’s a lot that he hasn’t experienced–a lot of food, a lot of activities, a lot of media–and you’re someone that he feels like he would be comfortable trying new things with.  You can expect lots of texts like, “Hello!  I hope you’re doing wellヾ(＾-＾)ノ Are you free tomorrow?”

Luke:

You probably decide to have a movie night after Luke ends up spending way longer than he expected to in the kitchen at the House of Lamentation.  On the condition that absolutely no demons are to join you two!  Ok maybe Beel and Levi are ok but absolutely no one else!  After a call to Simeon explaining that he isn’t coming back to Purgatory Hall tonight you guys are good to go.

He always brings baked goods when he comes over, plus whatever he was working on in the kitchen, so you’re more than covered!  The majority of it is things like cookies and fudge bark.  They’re easy snacks to grab a handful of.

Luke tries to insist that he wants to watch a movie with lots of violence or a horror film, or any other kind of movie that teenagers sneak into.  He’s doing it because he’s so frustrated with everyone calling him a kid when he’s centuries older than a human will ever be, stop making fun of him!!  For his sake and yours, you should tell him that you don’t want to watch that sort of movie, because if you let him get away with it he’ll get too freaked out in the first 20 minutes.

Most likely you’ll end up having a Disney marathon.  They’re so fun, and since the Celestial Realm is pretty isolated when it comes to cultural exchange, he’s only seen a couple, so you can show him your favorites!  Also, he’s not crying.  No, you saw that wrong.

He starts off on the other side of the couch, one again trying to be mature and shit, but that won’t last long.  Anyone who sees you huddled together like that will be punched in the gut with the sheer level of sibling energy y’all are radiating.  Lucifer almost doesn’t want to mock him.  Almost.

That thing where immediately after consuming a piece of media, you imagine yourself as part of that universe?  Luke loves to talk about that sort of thing.  “If I lived there, I’d have given Gaston a piece of my mind!”  “Ok but if I was a piece of furniture what do you think I’d be?  I can totally see you being a…”

“I think you’d be the footstool that acts like a dog, Luke.”  “Hey, Lucifer, you weren’t invited to our party!!”

You might (will) have to fend off a few nosy demon brothers to protect your demon-free movie lair.  Luke swears that next time you have to come over to Purgatory Hall, but he’s having way more fun here than he’s willing to admit.

He also learns that most of the brothers will listen to you without complaint.  He will definitely keep this in mind.

This kid angel has so much energy, how is he still awake after five movies?  You absolutely have to establish a bedtime because he literally will not go to bed until you do.

Solomon:

It’s quite rare for you to have a break from the seven avatars of attention hogging, so if you’re going to have a movie night, Purgatory Hall may as well be a godsend.

You may want to be careful about getting there, because if Asmo catches wind that you and Solomon are having a movie night without him, he’s going to show up unannounced and then refuse to leave.  Solomon can come pick you up if you need.  Just, he’ll be waiting a block away so Asmo can’t catch up.

Solomon is a “dinner and a show” kinda guy.  He will offer to make dinner.  Do not let him do this.  Either make it yourself or order takeout.

You’ll pretty easily agree on alternating who chooses the movie.  You get the first, he gets the second, you get the third, etc.  Definitely isn’t letting you choose first to lure you into a false sense of security about the DVD in his hand, what made you think that?

Solomon is the kind of person to lie about what sort of movie he’s put in.  “Solomon what is this supposed to be?”  “Oh, don’t worry about it.”  It’s gonna be a weird movie.  You just have to wait and see.

He is going to rip into your movie choices.  He liked how they worked with this, and that was impressive, but these bits?  Did they think they could get away with that?  What was the budget?  Rest assured, though, he expects you to do the same for him.  In fact, he’ll be quite disappointed if you don’t.

He prefers a setup on his bed rather than on the couch.  He’s also one of the ones who keeps to himself in terms of personal space, although that’s not to say that he isn’t relaxed.  Some might say he’s too relaxed, but that’s just who he is: too relaxed in any situation.  On the surface, at least.

As the only humans in the Devildom, some of the night is probably spent reminiscing on how different things tend to be here.  Solomon does feel bad that you in particular have had to make so many changes to your life and habits with no warning.  He has his magic to rely on, so he’s glad you have your reputation of “the human that made a pact with the student council” to keep demons from messing with you.

If you want, he’s happy to let you sleep over so that you don’t have to explain why you’re coming home so late.  He also encourages you to not say anything to your dorm mates.  Wouldn’t it be fun to make them wonder?  They’re always breathing down your neck, aren’t they?  Make them squirm a little bit.  You’re going to get a scolding for sneaking out regardless.  It’s incredibly cruel; you know they worry sick about you more than is called for.  Will you play along?  That’s up to you.  I advise you not to.

Like Simeon felt like he needed to second-guess everything around a bunch of demons and Solomon, Solomon sometimes feels like he needs to keep himself guarded around a bunch of demons and two literal angels.  You, however, are a human.  You have common ground, and Solomon can see how your vulnerability here translates into strength.  He’s not quite ready to admit it but, your ability to survive on character and not power is inspiring to him.  Shortly before you go home/to sleep, he mentions something about himself, and for once it seems like he’s being honest.

Barbatos:

You have the movie night at the House of Lamentation, under Lucifer’s promise that he’d keep everyone else busy.  It’s Barbatos’ first day off in 325 years, and he doesn’t want to take any chances of Diavolo forgetting that fact and giving him an order.

It may come as a surprise, but Barbatos wants nothing more than to order a pizza.  If he managed to get enough time off to have a movie night with you, he doesn’t want to have to think about preparing food.  A single night where he can just hang out and eat less than perfectly prepared cuisine is exactly what he needs to unwind.

Out of habit, he insists that whatever you want to watch is fine.  If you remind him that this is just as much for him as it is for you, he’ll suggest you look up what new psychological thrillers are trending.  Whenever a scary scene is playing on the screen, there’s the tiniest smile gracing his face the whole time.  It’s a little disconcerting, but something tells you that you shouldn’t bring it up.

If you do bring it up against all better judgement, though, he’ll explain that the villain in the film is being so messy.  Given the circumstances, it’d be better for him to do this or that.

“Don’t ask how I know all of this.  I’m just saying, if you find yourself with a body to dispose of, alive or not, you know who to call.”

Time spent with an off-duty Barbatos grows more relaxed as the night progresses.  You split the sofa 50/50, and over time you can see his posture relax from stiff and straight to leaning against the arm with his feet up.

Oh, yes, he’s also brought along a nice bottle of wine to share.  He made sure to get something that should affect demons and humans equally, of course.  If he’s going to get inebriated, you’re going down with him.

Turns out, working for the Demon Prince for all eternity gives you a few grievances.  Also turns out that the Demon Prince’s butler becomes quite loose lipped and downright snarky when he’s had enough to drink.  “‘Which flavor do you think Lucifer would like best?’  I don’t know, My Lord, might I suggest you ask him yourself?  No, no, I hear you laughing, MC!  This happens every time!”

There’s still a movie playing, but why would you watch a movie when Diavolo’s butler is such a gossip?  You definitely know things you shouldn’t by the time the night is over, but you swear an oath of secrecy.  And, although he regrets how liberal he was with his stories the next day, it does feel nice to have some of that off his chest.

And, well, he’s already gone this far, so he hopes you aren’t too surprised when you receive a text from him a week later: “Ok SO.”

Diavolo:

You guys decide to do the movie night at the palace, mainly to avoid Lucifer.  Diavolo wants to get to know you better, and he knows that if Lucifer is around he’ll end up making you the third-wheel.

Barbatos is going to be around, so Diavolo leaves it up to you whether you want to make it a party of three.  (Barbatos is still in on-duty mode, of course, so his time here is much less relaxed than in his solo scenario.)

Diavolo’s read about movie nights in Youthful Fun 101, and he wants to try out the whole snack list.  Popcorn, pizza rolls, sodas, you name it, he’s got mountains of it.

If you suggest also making ice cream sundaes, he’ll be the happiest demon in the entire Devildom.  It seems that the esteemed Demon Prince really loves chocolate sauce.

Really really wants to watch your favorite movie.  What sort of Devildom host would he be if he didn’t get to understand the Human World from his guest’s perspective?  Whether it’s something like Gone with the Wind or something like Barbie in a Mermaid Tale 2, he’s enthralled.  So this is Human World cinema!  There’s something so imaginative about it, even in the driest moments!

After your favorite, he’s got a checklist of iconic movies to get under his belt.  Not all of them end up holding your attention, and you develop a voting system–after the first 15 minutes, you hold a vote on whether to keep the movie going or to move on.  Since there’s only two of you, only one of you needs to like the movie to keep it going, so you give yourselves one immediate veto each.

Diavolo uses his veto on the first movie he wasn’t super into, and you have to keep reminding him that there’s no secret second veto that he can use.  Cut him some slack, this level of democracy is unfamiliar to the future Demon King.  He does end up really liking some of the movies he tried to avoid, so he learns to chill pretty quickly.

Also insists on watching the movies in a massive blanket fort.  He’s not a movie cuddler, per se, but he is an emotional movie watcher, so you can expect him to grab your arm during an especially sweet or sad scene.

You’re going to have to clarify what’s realistic and what isn’t sometimes.  No, that’s not a real animal.  Yes, that event really happened.  That may or may not be true, we aren’t sure.  Diavolo please this is a conspiracy theory.

If you thought that this wouldn’t end up in a sleepover, I don’t know what to tell you.  Maybe you just tried to watch way too many movies and passed out in the fort.  Maybe you tried to call it quits and then he gave you big puppy dog eyes until you agreed to have a slumber party.

Side note, but Lucifer is still recovering from seeing Diavolo’s car appear unannounced at the House of Lamentation and then being told that it’s actually here to pick you up and that he absolutely can’t come along.  Has he been replaced?

Masterlist

[imnotusedtobeingloved]

Hi!!! :D can I please have a ship for peaky blinders and Vikings?

I'm 18, 5'3 and I'm pretty chubby, I'm black with dark skin and I have pastel pink 4c hair right now but I like to dye my hair a lot!!! My face is round and I have hooded eyes and big lips.

I'm an infp and a Gemini and I tend to not speak until I'm spoken to, but once I start talking I don't stop easily lol. If I'm talking about something I'm especially interested in I can literally go on for hours at a time. I'm really into witchcraft, mythology, most cartoons, twilight, and languages (especially dead ones, rn I'm learning ancient Egyptian and Latin and I am ✨obsessed✨) I'm a huge history nerd but I hate hearing about war and politics because they can be kinda triggering for me, I'm incredibly sensitive but I think since I talk so much and overthink constantly I'm a lot more likely to just communicate with someone instead of arguing or fighting with them, (not that I can or would want to fight anyone I hate all physical activity so much lol)

My receiving love languages are acts of service and a bit of quality time and my giving love languages are gift giving and quality time, I'll cry while watching anything even though I hate crying in front of people, and I love literally all animals (except centipedes, they scare me a lot) and would jump in front of a Mac truck for a cat, and I will stop in the middle of a road to pick up a shiny rock.

My friends would probably just describe me as weird, but funny, and a little too intense a lot of the time.

My favorite genre of music is probably hyperpop even though I listen to literally everything (one of my favorite songs is an Icelandic lullaby about the ghost of a child calling out to its mom) and I almost always have headphones on at 100% volume.

Not sure how much of this information is relevant but I really like your work!!!!!! <3 <3 <3 thank you!!! I hope you're having a good day!!!

I SHIP YOU WITH...

SIGURD RAGNARSSON

Sigurd probably spots you from afar while you're making your way around the market of Kattegat. You, most likely, did not even know he was there. He would approach you a few days later, start up a conversation to find out more about you and the rest is history. Your interests, especially mythology, will sit quite well with Sigurd. He will definently be able to tell you a few tales you have not heard yet, among all the stories his parents told him when he was small. As for whitchcraft, that is something Sigurd might be sceptical about at first, but only until he finds himself reminded of Aslaugs gift for seeing and her predicting his "snake-eye". Just like you, he craves quality time, having been denied some attention in his childhood. He would write you his own songs and poems, beaming like a young boy when you state your approval of the lines. In addition to that, Sigurd is the least likely to start up a conversation about war or politics, much rather following his own interests. Sigurd is a gentle partner, always concerned with your well-being and a helping hand. With him, you can be sure to be appreciated for who you are.

YOUR BESTIE IS...

POLLY SHELBY

Having a positive relationship, especially a friendship, with Polly Shelby is something other people can only dream of. Polly and you connect over your senses for the supernatural. The rest of the Shelby-Clan might not be concerned with it, but the both of you know there is a higher power. You're there for her while Polly goes through a hard time and in return she makes sure to stick with you. She balances you out quite well, being tough where you're sensitive, and if there is anyone who could calm your nerves when overthinking, it would be her. Apart from that you might catch her interest with those languages you've been learning, she would find it amusing and help you practice. In conclusion: having Polly by your side is a big plus. She is an incredibly loyal friend and you can rest assured that she would send out the whole Shelby-Clan, should you ever be in need of help.

A/N: here you go! i hope you like this!

[wittyrosebush]

By Your Side

Pairing: Steve Rogers & Son!Reader

Warnings: Little bit of angst, Steve being a very tired father, Tony Stank being himself, mild swearing

Word Count: ~1.4k

Date Posted: 12/14/2020

Requested: Yes, the request is below

A/N: Hey, peeps! So this was requested by the lovely @slowkib​, sorry this is late by the way, love. I hope you still enjoy! Feedback is always welcome.

This one turned out to be a lot longer than I anticipated, I'll make a part 2 and possibly a part 3.

Needless to say, Steve Rogers is a great father. The moment his son, Y/N, was born he promised himself he would put him first. Once, when he was 5, he practically had to be dragged by Tony and Natasha onto the quinjet for a mission when the child had a cold. He was devastated to leave his kid sick and alone. Y/N was what kept him wanting to get out of bed every day. Throughout the tantrums, vomiting, and teenage angst, Steve stayed by his side. 

. . . 

"Hey, dad? Can you throw me my water?" Y/n said from his spot on the mat as he finished his stretches with his aunt Natasha.

Steve tossed him the water bottle from the bench, "How are you feeling today? Is your shoulder any better?"

"A little, but it'll be better by the party tonight."

Tonight was the 80th anniversary of Stark industries, and Tony was getting ready to throw a party bigger than anything he had done before. Needless to say, most of the attendees were terrified. No one truly knew what the CEO had planned for the evening. For once, Tony Stark kept his plans secret.

"Don't wear yourself out," Steve cautioned as he saw his son and Natasha get in their fighting stances.

Within 1 and a half minutes, Y/n was being pinned to the ground. "You need to move more," the redhead spoke up as her nephew stood up with a grimace, "staying in one spot lets your opponent predict what you will do more easily."

The boy nodded and massaged his shoulder, "I'll remember that next time, but for now I'm going to hang out with Wanda."

His father started speaking but abruptly stopped at the sight of his son running out of the gym. The soldier sat back down with furrowed eyebrows and slumped shoulders.

The female sat next to him and put a hand on his shoulder, "He's not a kid anymore, Rogers. Let him live a little."

Steve grunted in response and crossed his arms, deep in thought.

"Well if you are going to be grumpy then at least get a little bit of that anger out and spar with me."

. . .

"Another bad dream?" Y/n whispered as he put an arm around Wanda's shoulder.

She weakly nodded and continued to sob into her friend. "Pietro..."

The boy frowned and turned on the bed so he was facing her. Whenever one of them had a nightmare they would find comfort in each other's presence. Wanda would help him get back to sleep and he would listen to her grievances when she was unable to sleep.

"You know what happened isn't your fault. There was no way of knowing-"

"But I let him leave! I couldn't stop him because I was trying to do what I thought was right and-" her voice broke off and she returned to her place on Y/n's shoulder. The pain of what happened had never really left her, it had only shrunk for a few moments before overtaking her again.

He stayed silent, letting Wanda get out all the words she needed before it was too much. "I was an idiot thinking that we would be fine apart..."

"You did the best you could do in that moment. There was no perfect thing to do, Wanda."

Y/n dramatically slowed down his breathing, encouraging her to follow his action. And finally, she regained her breath. "I just want to get out of here, I don't belong with this team."

"We voth know that is a lie. I know you want to help people and this is the best way to do it."

She nodded in agreement, her puffy eyes not willing to look anyone in the face but much more relaxed. Y/n wrapped his friend in a hug and stayed like that until Wanda was satisfied.

. . .

After a couple hours of calming down, talking about their day, and a tickle fight (in which Y/n lost), the friends were ready to attend the party.

The boy had gone to his room to change and on his way he was met with the sight of his father arguing with the owner of the builder. "He is too young, Tony. Don't even think about it."

"He's an adult. And you can't really control him now, can you?"

Steve growled and took a step closer to the man, "He is still my son and I will not allow him to be manipulated by some reckless billionaire."

Y/n hid behind a pillar when he saw his father walking away from Tony. "Why were they arguing? Did I do something wrong?"

As if he read his nephew's mind, Tony came up next to him and shook his head. "You didn't do anything wrong, kid. Your father is just being a meat head."

Y/n scoffed, "When is he not?"

"He's trying to look after you, and I understand that. But he needs to get the stick out of his ass and realize you are an adult."

Before the boy could respond, his uncle walked off. Y/n let out a frustrated sigh and walked to his room to take a nap.

. . .

After 30 minutes, Y/n woke up with a gasp as he felt himself being dropped onto the floor. Upon opening his eyes he could only see darkness. As he looked around, he could feel jackets on hangers and dress shoes on the floor. “Dad!”

Steve was in his room next door doing paperwork when he heard his son yell. The soldier leaped from his desk and almost broke down the doors on the way to him.

Steve's thunderous steps could be heard by anyone within the floor. He did end up ripping off the closet door and picking up his son, "Are you ok? What happened? Are you hurt? Did-"

Y/n cut him off, "Dad, I'm fine. No need to get yourself worked up."

"Kid, you yelled for me and I thought you were hurt and I-"

"DAD!" The father was brought out of his thoughts by his Son, "I'm fine. Nothing bad happened."

"Then what DID happen?"

The boy was about to answer when he was brought into a tight hug by the super soldier. He returned the gesture with a hum, he didn't know what happened but he didn't care because he was with his dad, his protector.

But did he really need a someone to protect him, he thought. He had trained with the Avengers since he was old enough to fight. He knew what he was doing, so why was his dad so worried? Did he think he was weak or helpless? He let go of his father and took a step back, looking at him through serious eyes.

"Do you think I'm not strong?"

Steve scrunched up his nose for a second, taken by surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Why were you so scared for me? Is it because I'm not as strong as you or anyone on your team?" The boy sneered at the man and crossed his arms.

"Y/n, why would you think that?"

Y/n took a step forward in a sad fury, "I'm not a kid anymore! I'm not some weak child that you can only keep to feel like your worthy of something."

And at this moment, Steven Grant Rogers' heart broke. His son thought he was using him. And he felt powerless for the first time in years.

"Just get out, dad." Y/n turned around so his father couldn't see the tears falling down his face.

Steve stood frozen for a moment, terrified to move and make matters worse. Hearing his son sniffle is what made him move. The thought of his presence hurting his son made him drag himself back to his room. He sat on his bed, his face in his hands as he silently sobbed into his palms.

After his father left, Y/n wiped the tears from his eyes, "You are stronger than this." The male walked back to his closet and pulled out his outfit for the party, wanting to distract his racing mind.

As he put on his top he thought back to when he woke up.why had he woken up in the closet and not his bed? The boy furrowed his brows and put on the rest of his clothing, assuming he had been sleep walking. There was no other logical explanation... was there?

[nine-mp3]

Your Neighbor Sungho | Ch. 1

Photo Credits:

- left hand corner, @116page

- center, @newat_rie

Rie (sungho) x (female) reader, fluff, slice of life, semi-angsty (?)

appearances of other OnlyOneOf and Dreamcatcher members will occur

hey so I rolled a wheel on who to write a fanfic first and got rie plus picked out a prompt to write from

warnings: alcohol, getting drunk; in this fic is PG-13, some light cursing occasionally, super tiny mention of smut in description beginning and that’s all;

btw i’m pretty sarcastic, there’s sarcasm thrown here and there, hope you enjoy :D

This is my first time sharing my writing on a public platform. As a writer, I always appreciate constructive criticism. Feel free to leave feedback in the comments if you have anything to say. Thank you in advance for reading as well

Also, please DO NOT repost my work anywhere without my permission or plagiarize.

Description: your neighbor, sungho, from the day you've moved in has kept you up countless nights with their significant other. dancing, muffled long conversations, and amongst other noises you wished you could wipe from memory. one day it suddenly stops. those days become months.

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Your neighbor, Sungho, from the day you've moved in has kept you up countless nights with their significant other. Dancing, muffled long conversations, and amongst other noises you wished you could wipe from memory. One day it suddenly stops. These days become months. Now, you couldn't help but to be concerned.

Sungho isn't a bad neighbor. You recall complaining to him at some point, amidst trying to focus on a report you had to write up for work, and he apologized for the noise. Many times. He seemed embarrassed, never realizing how thin the walls were in the apartment building, and promised to keep the noise levels down. These promises would last only about a week. Their significant other was quite the complete opposite of Sungho, a loud individual. From what you were aware, the two didn't live together. His significant other would come over daily to stay or visit.

As much as they were loud, they didn't seem to like you either. Looks of disdain thrown whenever you happen to cross them in the hallway, being in the same elevator cart, or when Sungho was trying to be a good neighbor by greeting you. They would pull him away immediately, putting his attention back on them. Sometimes you thought that they were being loud on purpose, knowing that you were next door, and very well aware of the complaints. The reason why? You had no idea. The best guess you could come up with was that they saw you as a threat to their relationship. Which was ridiculous. You hardly knew the male nor could the both of you call each other friends.

Sometimes Sungho left fruits or drinks at your door with little notes of apologies for their rowdiness. And for their significant other's behavior. For the most part, you bared through it or simply did all your work within the hours at your office now and prayed that tiredness would consume you once you hit your bed, blocking out any disturbances.

So, life goes on.

One weekend, you just happened to get home from going out with your friends. It was late, past midnight. You heard arguing through the walls between Sungho and their significant other.

"You're always like this, Sungho!"

Immediately, you felt very uncomfortable entering your apartment. It wasn't something you wanted to hear or should be hearing. Not that you could help it either since you lived next door. You backed yourself outside, considering going to the balcony on the floor for a bit. Stepping back outside of your door, their argument becomes muffled.

Why couldn't the landlord just keep the damn wall consistency the same?

Suddenly, Sungho's door flies open followed by their significant other storming out. You jump up out of surprise, the noise scaring you. They're heading down the hallway, to the elevators, without looking back. Sungho appears at his door not too long after, holding it open.

"Wait-" he calls out to them, his voice faltering.

The male notices you then, staring with wide eyes at him. At that moment, you were able to get a full picture of his current position. The hurt in his eyes.

"Oh...y/n. Are you here to complain about the noise again? I'm really sorry-"

"Uh, no! No, not at all. See, I just was returning home now. Don't worry about it," you said, awkwardly blinking a few times, reaching to grab for your keys from your bag once again.

"Um, I'm heading inside now! Okay, bye!"

You immediately opened your door again, rushing, running into your living room. The door shuts behind automatically and you let out a sigh of relief. You felt bad for suddenly running away, but you weren't about to ask or give relationship advice if Sungho wasn't asking for it. Besides, what if it was only a lover's quarrel?

They'll probably make up soon. Talk about a rough night…

Then the realization set in. The apartment would be definitely quiet for at least another day. A smile rises to your face.

What a horrible thing to be happy over...after seeing your neighbor fight with their significant other. Then again, they weren't all that nice to me.

You shrugged, waving the events aside, calling it a night, enjoying the peaceful silence...only with the slight remaining, lingering tension in the air. After you showered, brushed your teeth, and changed into pajamas, you immediately laid down on your bed. Pulling the covers over, you found yourself thinking. Staring up to the ceiling of your room in the dark.

That argument sounded bad though...ugh. None of your business, y/n. Go to sleep. They'll probably be fine tomorrow…

─────────────────

Define the term "fine".

The next day, as you predicted, was quiet. That you could hear a pin drop from down the hallway. You enjoyed it, a Sunday afternoon peace. It allowed you to catch up on work, eat, watch T.V, write poetry...overall without any disturbances. Sungho, your neighbor, was long forgotten from your mind.

The thing is, it goes on for the next week. You weren't worried about it at all because you were swamped with work. The next reports and presentations came with close deadlines. The silence was appreciated, allowing you to focus; you got lost in piles of work and many cups of coffee.

Worry about your neighbor only returned on the brief encounters when the both of you were heading to work in the mornings. Sungho still greeted you, but only with a brief nod and face expressionless. They would walk ahead first, not bothering to see even if you returned the greeting or not. Sometimes you heard him leaving earlier than you and now you couldn't help but to wonder what his occupation was.

The week turns into two and three. He stops greeting you at some point, or maybe he wasn't very aware of his surroundings; his whole aura was different. Sungho usually would at least do his hair before going out and dress somewhat decently. Now it was always a mess, his bangs left down to cover his eyes, matching with black attire. You saw him up close in his current condition when you were returning to the apartment building one afternoon. The male had collided into you, by accident. Turning around immediately on the impact, once you had regained your balance, you're faced with eyes that were written with sleepless nights, dark circles prominent. At least, this time, he mumbles an apology before moving on.

By the time it reaches the end of the month, your workload becomes lighter for the year, you find more time thinking about the current situation of your neighbor. You called up one of your best friends at your workplace one night. It wasn't the first time you discussed your neighbor with them.

"Yoojung, it's the end of the month. I haven't seen his significant other in awhile. As much as I enjoy the silence, I hate seeing Sungho this dead," you said, a hand gripping onto the balcony railing out of nervousness.

“Note check. You don’t even know the guy. Why exactly are you so worried?” Yoojung on the other end replies.

Your friend had a point. Why were you worried?

“Well…I don’t have an answer, actually. I don’t know why I’m worried. Can’t I just be a good neighbor?” you replied.

“It’s none of your business, y/n. Looking at reality. But if you’re so worried, go knock on his door and talk to him. Even if it’s just a hello. Didn’t he leave you fruits before? You can do that in return if you’re so curious,” Yoojung suggested, not sounding all that interested.

“Anyways, you’re coming to the group outing for dinner next week right? On Saturday? Please tell me you didn’t forget or you plan on cancelling. We hardly ever get a chance for everyone to come together again.”

“Alright, thanks so much for the advice...I guess...and keep your pants on, Yoojung. Of course I’m coming. Good night,” you scowled at him.

You hung up the phone then, not giving a chance for the other to say his goodbye. As much as he was your best friend, he could be a pain in the ass. Turning around, you exited out the balcony to return back to your apartment for the day.

So much for calling it a night.

Once you make it back, you’re greeted with Sungho at your door, hunched over, using an arm to keep his weight up against the wall. First thought that came to mind: he’s unwell and he came to ask you for help? You immediately approach the male, only to be hit by a smell of alcohol and you jolt back. The second thought you had, only confirmed: he’s drunk.

“Sungho?! Are you okay?” you asked nervously, tapping his shoulder lightly.

The male looks up to you, quite confused.

“y/n? Oh. Yeah...I’m fine. Just trying to get into my apartment...but the key.... doesn’t seem to fit…” Sungho said, words spoken slowly as he tries to stand upright.

“Did...the landlord change the locks?”

“No, no. The landlord didn’t. You’re at the wrong apartment, this one is mine. Uh, do you need help?” you said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Ah...well, that makes...sense now,” Sungho said, a drunk written smile appearing on his face.

“No, it’s okay...I’m always disturbing you... I’m really sorry...Have...a good night, y/n.”

It’s the first time you’ve seen him smile in such a long time. Of course, it only happens to be when he’s not sober. Also, you’re very aware that drunk people do need help but always deny it. You watch as he turns around, folding your arms and counting down in your head.

3... 2...1

The male collapses on the ground, completely knocked out from the alcohol in his system. You blew up at your hair, huffing then, staring down at his figure on the ground.

This night just got a whole lot longer.

─────────────────

[mimzy-writing-online]

I hope this question isn't too stupid, but you're one of my favorite writing blogs so I'll give it a shot. I want to write a FanFic based on the 1971 version of Willy Wonka. I wanted the story to tell Violet Beauregarde's story, the one that turns into a blueberry. However, I have SOME questions as I'm fairly new to FanFic. 1). Am I better off focusing on each kid's perspective, going back and forth? Or is it good to narrow my focus one one character? 2). Can I give them a character arch, li

(2/3) like Violet's really mean in school but she becomes kind after her experience at the factory. Is that too cliche or predictable? 3). Why does she try waddling away after her blueberry transformation and the Oompa Loompas are singing/dancing around her? They're trying to help her, and I don't really get why she'd do something like that. 4). What are tips to better understand the characters I want to flesh out? I guess it circles back to the last question, understanding their psyche. Yikes

(3/3)  Yikes! Super sorry this ask is long. And I'm even more sorry if my questions were lame or you've covered them before. :P. I can overthink at times, ESPECIALLY when it comes to my writing. I'm such a perfectionist storyteller, it's not even funny. I hope my questions aren't bothering you. You're one of my favorite writing blogs, so I figured I could come to you. I apologize in advance for wasting your time. You DO NOT have to reply at all if you don't want to. :P Thanks, have a great week

First and foremost: this is not a stupid question, you are not wasting my time at all. This is actually a rare treat for my blog because I don’t get many asks that don’t involve blindness, though I usually know better how to answer those than I do other questions. So, here we go:

Are you better off focusing on each kid’s perspective, going back and forth? Or is it better to narrow your focus onto one character?

The general rule of writing is to simplify. If two background characters serve a similar purpose, just combine the characters, for example. Slimming down extra scenes that don’t contribute to plot or character development.

However, that advice is meant for people publishing novels, working within an overflowing industry, dependant on sales and royalties. They have to meet whatever industry standards are, like word count or POV types. They have to find someone willing to take them on as a client because they love that book.

Fanfiction is not bound by such nonsense. Fanfiction is a beautifully lawless land where capitalism cannot influence it. What defines what you do with fanfiction is if you enjoy reading it, and if you have the steam to continue a long project.

Some people easily write 200,000k fics within a matter of weeks or months (or in my case, just once, two years). Some people work best with short fics. Both (and everything in between) are wonderful.

So, how much steam do you have for this project? How long do you think you can carry it and still finish it? Because that defines how big you should plan to make this project. If you don’t think you can write a long fic, then maybe just stick to one character.

A compromise between the two is to focus primarily on one character, and examine the other characters more briefly. This could be done in just a single POV chapter, or a handful. This could be done with the characters connecting and seeing the side character through your main character’s eyes, seeing how they’ve changed.

There’s no wrong answer. This fic is for your enjoyment primarily. No matter what you write, it will appeal to at least a few people, if not crowds. But your fun comes first, both literally and figuratively. Write for you, write to explore the story for yourself.

Can you give them a character arc like Violet’s where she becomes kinder after her experiences in the factory? Is that too cliche or predictable?

I wouldn’t call it predictable, because I’d expect everyone to go into completely different directions because they were all such unique and individual people before they entered the factory, and they were foiled by their own quirks.

Violet was mean and fake, she was demanding. I don’t know how much I want to speculate on the plotline you have going for her, how you’ll develop her to make her want to be more kind.

But I would love to speculate on the others.

Agustus Gloop? 

I feel like his experience in the chocolate river and almost drowning would make it hard to enjoy chocolate ever again. I think it would be a long time before he had any sweets. Also, because of his weight, I imagine there’s got to be some body-image issues hiding under the surface. I’d also put money on him being bullied, and him acting out against the students who bully him and because of his size he is more intimidating, but that doesn’t stop people from saying things behind his back.

I imagine the chocolate thing is a form of self-comfort. Maybe he turns to other foods to over-eat with to cope. Maybe eventually he figures out that this isn’t helping him. Does he try to replace unhealthy foods with healthier ones? (idk, I have a personal turn off on getting into the concept of dieting, so I’m not going to dig in much there).

I’d like to see him learn to love himself, develop some body neutrality, that his body doesn’t define who he is or what his worth is. That he becomes okay with who he is as he grows up. People who are happy and comfortable with themselves are generally nicer and easier going than people who aren’t. Maybe with some self-love, he’ll be kinder to others.

Veruca Salt?

Okay, I have a confession. My brain thought of her when discussing Violet. I haven’t seen either of the films in years.

Well, let’s thank Wikipedia everyone, the greatest gift of the internet.

Veruca does come across as a spoiled brat. Her parents shower her in material objects, which might mean something. I have a close friend who hates people buying things for him or giving him gifts that cost money. This has to do with a parent buying him things out of guilt after episodes of emotional abuse. I asked him a while back what he wanted for his birthday (I meant baked goods, I bake or cook special meals as birthday gifts for my friends. A has asked for chocolate chip cookies for three birthdays in a row now. Several friends ask for cookies for Christmas). Anyway, my friend had a panic attack and couldn’t respond until an hour later.

Maybe there’s something to that.

What does she think about money as she grows up? Does her love language continue to be gifts? I think it might one day be quality time. Maybe it is now. It’s common for rich parents to be absent and barely spend time with their kids because of work and extravagant social lives that sort of money gives them access to, meaning they barely have time in the day to spend with their kids. Maybe gifts are the only way she can make sure her parents still care, the only way she can get their attention? 

Mike Teavee?

Apparently in the movie credits his last name is spelled Teevee. But I’m obsessed with tea (and this is the point where I remember my tea and wonder if I’ve let it go cold because I got too focused. Nope, it’s still there). So it’s Teavee here.

Wikipedia describes him as a young boy who only watches TV, nothing but TV. He’s especially interested in cowboys and Western films. He comes across as a know-it-all. He’s easily annoyed but gets along with others.

Anyone have a guess at where I’m going with this?

Mike is neurodivergent. I mean, that’s my new headcanon. I lean towards ADHD because that’s what I project, but like everything else, his interpretation is in the eye of the beholder. Every viewer sees something different in him.

Some common ADHD (and autism) experiences beyond having a specific interest is how others react to your special interest. You get used to people getting bored when you talk about your interest for the thousandth time, but it’s still important to you, but not to someone whose opinion matters to you. RSD is probably common.

Wikipedia says he’s described as lazy in the books? Common ADHD “symptom,” or rather something that outside viewers label as laziness. Really, he just doesn’t have the motivation to do any of those other things.

And Charlie?

Did anyone think I wouldn’t have any thoughts on Charlie, our hero and protagonist?

Oh no, I have thoughts. Charlie goes to great lengths to set his family up comfortably, he becomes generous with his money. He also knows nothing about running a factory. I’m hoping Willy Wonka gives him some help there. But I bet adult Charlie is a stressed-out workaholic who tries to do everything and thinks he has something to prove, that he’s not just some random lucky child, that he can do this. Charlie totally gets a work-related anxiety disorder.

Those are my thoughts. I still think giving them Violet’s arc isn’t cliche or predictable, but rather completely different from what you think would happen to all those kids.

I mean, maybe a few of them are still little jerks in their adult lives. There’s no one road to grow up on, even if you’re four strangers who shared a similar traumatic experience.

Why does she try waddling away after her blueberry transformation and the Oompa Loompas are singing/dancing around her? They're trying to help her, and I don't really get why she'd do something like that.

They strange looking short men she’s literally never talked to, never seen or heard of before today, who’s already taken away two children by this point, all while singing a song about what terrible children they were.

And she’s scared because her body is doing something strange and scary and awful. She’s scared. She doesn’t know what to do. What will happen if these strange men take her away? She doesn’t know what happened to the other kids.

And they’re not really communicating they want to help, just singing cheerfully about how awful children are.

What are tips to better understand the characters I want to flesh out? I guess it circles back to the last question, understanding their psyche.

A lot of it is just watching real-life people and wondering why they are the way they are. Listening to their reasoning and what they tell you about who they are and where they come from.

I know people who grew up like Agustus with using over-eating as a way to self-comfort, and the bullying they experienced. I know that if a kid was physically bigger than his bullies, maybe he’d fight them to make them stop and leave him alone. People who go through that journey of learning that their body doesn’t define who they are, accepting it because it is theirs and it takes care of them.

(Which reminds me of a post I like that pops around here and there, that positive body image should be about more than how “sexy” your curves make you look. A person shouldn’t have to be sexy to be treated like a person. A person shouldn’t have to be sexy at all if they don’t want to, especially not all the time, and especially not a child. And there are a lot of obese children in the world who don’t have any positive body image messages designed for them)

I learned what my friend’s love languages are and why they have them and what they mean. Which is why I have that theory for Veruca.

Mike is just self-projection and listening to other neurodivergent people when they describe their life experiences or listening to their theories when they say a character is neurodivergent too.

I won’t lie, my theory on Charlie is based entirely on the Avatar: the Last Airbender fandom’s common head-canon that Zuko becomes a workaholic after he becomes Firelord. There might be some canon material in the comics that supports that, but I’ve never seen it. I think Zuko and Charlie have a similar vibe and that those three years Zuko struggled, and Charlie’s entire life before the factory make them both feel like they need to be perfect and do everything right to prove they deserve the job they’re given and that their backgrounds don’t define their worth.

Thank you so much for your ask anon!

And again, you are not a bother. I enjoyed digging into this movie I’d never thought in depth about until tonight. And you’re not alone, lots of writers are overthinkers and perfectionists. You are in good company. Our writing and fanfiction community welcomes and loves you <3

And thank you for your kind words! I’m so happy that you love my blog so much <3 It made my day to read that

Take care anon, and good luck in your writing :)

[oh-the-things-we-will-imagine]

Drunk one shot request! Loki falling for you at a Christmas party. Tricks and kisses ensue. (Predictable and over-done I'm sure but, hey, it's the holidays and I'm really curious as to how this will turn out lol)

It was Loki’s first Christmas at Stark tower and he didn’t understand any of it.  Everyone was dressed in silly Santa hats and making him drink something called “eggnog”—it was not ideal.  Thor was enjoying himself, of course, he could fit in anywhere, but he really melded together with the other Avengers while Loki was almost always left by himself.  At the moment he was tucked in a far, dark corner of the party Stark was throwing.

“Don’t be such a Grinch!” Tony tugged one of the ridiculous hats snug on Loki’s head.

“I am not interested in the festivities,” Loki batted Starks hands away.

“Oh come on reindeer games!”

“Your references are not lost on me.” Loki snapped--of course he knew them, they watched those insipid movies every night for the past week,

Tony laughed so hard he slopped his drink down the front of his shirt as he staggered away.  

After a few more minutes it Loki decided it was a good time to retreat back to his room…that was until she walked in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Christmas was your least favorite holiday,  it was cold and the snow was annoying, to say the least (let's be honest, it got less exciting once the thrill of snow days was gone) and when you have no family to visit it really lost its appeal.

But you had to hand it to the Avengers, they really did try with this party.  You grabbed a drink from a nearby tray and downed it pretty quickly.  You hadn’t been at the tower long enough to feel like you could just walk up to someone and start a conversation. The only person who seemed to be having a worse time than you was Loki, and you certainly weren’t going to try and talk to him…

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Loki found himself suddenly very nervous and ripped the Santa hat off his head; he wasn’t used to feeling unsure of himself.  He saw that she was having just as good a time as he was which wasn’t saying much.  But how could he go up to her?

His eyes traveled around the room, looking for something, anything to get rid of his nerves.  And then he found it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The idea of mistletoe was insane you couldn’t help but think as Natasha and Steve passed under a sprig and kissed briefly, laughing but a little bit uncomfortable.  You were so caught up in your thoughts when Steve and Bucky found themselves under some mistletoe that you didn’t see some appear right above your head.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Loki wracked his brain when he walked over to you. He was afraid that you, like everyone else, were scared of him.  

“It seems you are enjoying yourself.” He hoped he sounded like himself.

She jumped slightly when she heard him speak, but looked him straight in the eye, “About as much as I am able.”

Loki chuckled, “So not very much then?”

“I don’t see what is entertaining about being forced to have fun.” You found it quite easy to be your antisocial self around Loki—which was not exactly surprising but a great relief as you had a crush on him ever since you got to the tower.  The next few minutes were fun as the both of you made snarky comments about the other people in the room, watching as Thor and Banner drunkenly belted out Christmas songs (ones that Thor had no idea the words too), and as Clint and Natasha knocked back shot after shot.

It was going alright and the two of you were actually having fun until Tony popped back up.

“”Look at where the two of you found yourselves!” He bounced up and down excitedly, very close to spilling his drink.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, looking up at where Tony was pointing and seeing the mistletoe.

“That wasn’t there before.” You looked at Loki who was wearing an amused look on his face.

“Don’t look at me; I don’t touch the stuff…bad experience.”  He said with a mischievous grin.

Tony looked at the two of you expectantly, “Its bad luck if you don’t!”

You chewed your bottom lip.  It would be a lie if you said you hadn’t thought about what it would be like to kiss Loki, feeling those thin lips on yours.  Before you knew it you had your fingers tangled in his hair as you pulled him in.  By the time you both pulled away you were breathless.

“I think its time we get out of here.” You said while Tony whooped in the background.

A grin spread across Loki’s face as he grabbed your hand and led you away from the party and into the quiet.