#look he needs to vent and be a dramatic bitch but he will get over it

[dollopheadsandclotpoles]

A normal day in the life of Court Physician, Gaius

[rubiesintherough]

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[skylarsblue]

✦Even. More. Incorrect C.o.D Quotes.✦

Y/N, pinning Soap’s arms with their thighs in sparring: Haha! Eat shit, Scotsman! Soap, struggling: FUCKIN’ ‘ELL, The hell is in your thighs?! Y/N: Pure spite and protein, bitch! --

Someone: Hey Johnny. Y/N: Oh, no, only Ghost can- Soap: Oi! Only Y/N & Ghost can pull that off, it’s Soap to you. Y/N: Yeah he- wait me too? *gaaassp* Ohhh is this what favoritism feels like?! Soap: Pfft, maybe! Y/N: I enjoy it a lot! <3

-- American!Y/N: Fuckin’ git, he’s off his rocker, that one. The entire team: … American!Y/N: *dramatically smacks their hand over their mouth* Gaz: *laughing* Was that genuine?! Y/N: AH, I’ve been conditioned! I’ve been colonized! Soap: COLONI-*WHEEZE*

-- Fem Fatal!Y/N: What th- what is this, a spy movie? You want me to infiltrate by being some eye candy?! Laswell: It’s the best option we have. Ghost: I disagree with this. Soap: Me too! This feels real nasty, I think. Fem Fatal!Y/N: *sigh* Fine, I’ll do it. God gave me these tits for a reason, might as well use’em for somethin’. Gaz: PFF-no no, don’t be funny, this is a bad situation.

-- Graves: No! You can’t, cause if you take it- …you’ll be hurting my feelings :((( Ghost: You know, I was thinking about that. And, the thing is…I really don’t care.

-- (In a ride back to base; just makin’ conversation)

Gaz: Do you find boys attractive? Or girls. That’s one what to check, if you’re not sure. Y/N: *chuckles* You think I’m not sure? Y/N: Everyone’s attractive to be honest, even if it’s just something small. Like, some people have really gorgeous hands. Y/N: I don’t know…I’m a little bit in love with everyone I meet. But I think that’s normal. Gaz: …hm, suppose that’s a fair answer…

-- Soap, laughing: You watch it or might just start fallin’ for ya, L.T! Ghost: …would you like to? Soap: Eh-…huh? Simon: Would you like to? Fall in love with me, I mean… Soap: ….well I-…well, yeah. I wouldn’t mind…if you’d let me. Simon: …I’d let you. Soap: Well then, guess that’s it then. Woo me, Si. Simon: I’ll do my best.

-- Someone: I don't need advice from a team of virgin losers. Y/N: VIRGIN LOSERS?! *grabs Price’s shoulder and motions to him aggressively* You gonna tell me you think this man doesn’t fuck for a living?! HAVE YOU SEEN HIM?! Gaz & Soap: *for the millionth time trying not to laugh* Price: *he’s not encouraging it but he does look kinda smug*

-- Gaz, on TikTok: Everyone’s always like “Kyle how’d you bag a baddie, how’d you bag that baddie bruh-“ I didn’t bag shit. Y/N picked me up from my neck, threw me over their shoulder and I’ve been on it ever since. (Zooms out to show that he is in fact, on their shoulder) Gaz: And I ain’t got no plans on getting off anytime soon-

(This also works with Soap & Ghost)

-- Y/N: Why’s it always you got mommy issues or you got daddy issues? Me personally? Both my parents got me messed up, the side I pick? Is mine. I ain’t Hannah Montana- Y/N: 🎶but I got the best of both worlds!~🎵 Ghost: *he’s laughing on the inside, I swear*

-- Ghost, on the verge of dissociating: Why be sad…when you can just be ✨g o n e✨ Soap: Si, no-

-- Graves: Punch me. In the face. Didn’t you hear me? Y/N: I always hear “punch me in the face” when you speak, but it’s usually subtext. Graves: *huff* Well I- *gets punched so hard he falls over* Y/N: ….that felt good. Ghost: I’m so proud- Price: Stop encouraging them.

-- Soap, bursting into the briefing room: Y/N got into a fight! (Insert running scene) Price: Soldier, what hap- Ghost, sliding up in front of them: Did you win? Y/N: Of course I won. Ghost: Nice. Price: STOP ENCOURAGING VIOLENCE-

-- Y/N, in a vent above a room: Soap, it’s me, the devil! Soap: *wheeze* Gaz: *trying so hard not to laugh* Y/N: I’m here to convince you to do SIN. Come with me. Steal candy from babies and from small businesses! Soap: *WHEEZE*

-- Y/N, passing by: *does that super flirty “up & down” look* Hey König…~ König: Hallo, guten morgen. Y/N: *smiles and keeps going* König, as soon as they’re gone: *deep breath* Ohmeingottohmeingott *tiny scream*

-- Ghost after being asked about his feelings on Soap: *heavy breathing* ……..nextquestion-

-- Gaz, a menace on TikTok: Batches be on the lookout for Captain Save-A-Hoe, cause he savin’ hoes. Price, minding his business: ? Y/N, dramatically “swooning” in the background: I WANNA BE SAAAAAVED *falls* Price, unaware he’s having a thirst trap made for him: ?????

-- (I think bullying Graves is funny)

Graves: Let me tell you how this is gonna work- Y/N: You ain’t gonna tell me shit. Graves: Listen!- Y/N: Suck my dick. Graves: Listen to me!- Y/N: Suck my dick. Graves: Shut up, listen to me! Y/N: Suck my dick, you fuck man. Graves: Listen!! Y/N: Suck my dick. Graves: You will be here and listen to my ord- Y/N: You’ll be here sucking my dick. Graves: Listen to me, now! Y/N: Go fuck yourself.

-- Y/N: I would rather lead my team into a pit of fire, than have them wield guns for your ignorant usurper cunt of a general. Price: *mans is so proud it’s showing in his chops*

-- Simon: Your eyes are like sapphires…jeez…ahem, that’s pretty corny though, huh? Soap, swooning: No, not at all. Anyone would like it…aha… Simon: …uh…is this- Soap: Working? Oh yeah, thoroughly wooed, sir. Simon: Good, good.

-- Price: Please tell me you didn’t drag the boys into this. Y/N: I didn’t drag Soap & Gaz into this! *insert banging on door* Price: Who is that? Y/N: I think you know.

-- Soap: I wouldn’t wish that ‘pon my worst enemy. Unless, of course, we’re talkin’ ‘bout my enemy Philip Graves. Soap: Fuck you, Phillip(/neg), you know what you did.

-- Gaz: So you have feelings for this person. Just rip the bandaid off. Y/N, with daddy issues: It’s Price. Gaz: *inhales through his teeth* Put the bandaid back on.

-- Y/N: …Ghost? You’re into Ghost? Soap: Mhm…thoughts? Y/N: And prayers, Johnny. And prayers.

-- Gaz: Are you straight? Y/N: *chokes on drink* Don’t ever fucking insult me like that ever again.

-- (Some type of escort mission or somethin’)

Price: This woman wouldn’t know how to fix a broken fingernail. Fem!Y/N: Honestly, you lot have to be the most boorish, crude, pig-headed men I’ve ever met. Price: Hey, I’ve seen the high-bred boys you’ve hung out with, princess. I’m the only man you’ve ever met.

(Insert overly intense sexual tension here)

-- König: How does that even make any- *knife sound* König: *looks down at the knife in his thigh* Did you just- *takes knife out* Did you just stab me? What is your problem?!

-- (I’m only using Alejandro cause the dude in the audio had a slight Spanish accent, mans is definitely a feminist)

Alejandro: It’s not natural for girls to fight. Fem!Y/N: Now it’s not natural for a man to be as stupid as he is tall, but mm. Here you stand! Alejandro, in love: …

[carrymelikeimcute]

I'm in my feels again so lets talk about Izzy Hands and violence.

I read a novel ages ago, where an older guy takes a young orphan boy under his wing and teaches him a trade - it's medieval times and said boy becomes a young adult and wants a sword, but his pseudo-father/boss/friend tells him he can't have one, because if he has one, he'll draw it and if he draws it, he could be killed. The safest thing is, paradoxically, to carry no weapons. To learn control of one's temper and control over your surroundings.

The scenes of Izzy and Stede in ep.7 at Jackie's reminded me of that novel.

Obviously Izzy has weapons, tends to put his hand on his sword during arguments and we do see him fighting and killing people. HOWEVER, I think it's really interesting that, given how often we talk about Izzy being repressed (emotionally/sexually/gender-ly) and how controlled he attempts to be, we don't often talk about his controlled approach to violence.

A lot of fic characterises him as someone who is hot tempered and violent, but looking at s1 with fresh eyes, between him and Ed, he's definitely not just the cooler head when it comes to instigating violence, but the one who takes less interest in violence for its own sake as a performance - e.g. Ed's very creative instructions with the tiny fork, the toe thing etc vs Izzy just stabbing Stede. It's a means to an end.

Don't think I'm not saying he has a fucking temper and a half, because he obviously does, but that seems to mostly be vented non-violently through yelling - not yelling at strangers either, but at people he knows and can (usually) judge where the line is.

Until he puts a toe over that line and...oops.

On first meeting Stede, Izzy cuts up his shirt without actually hurting him. It's a threat, but he hasn't drawn blood, hasn't started anything violent...yet. It's almost a display intended to dissuade actual fighting, by showing your potential opponent that they're probably going to lose.

I think one of the reasons Izzy's so annoyed about their losses in the battle with the Spanish is that it's not their fight. They didn't get anything from it - it was pointless (to him, not to Ed obvs). He wants to avoid facing the Spanish again in the following episode, because they stand to lose more than they will gain.

Even when he's actively calling for Ed to kill Stede, he isn't fussy about how. (And he uses manipulation to keep his hands clean - something he does again when selling Ed out to the navy.) Stede needs to be gone, and this is the easiest way to do that. And when he does finally lose it he doesn't just attack Stede without warning - it's within the controlled setting of a duel, which, when Stede starts improvising, breaks down Izzy's control and leads to him becoming emotional, making a mistake and getting his sword broken.

In s2 the pointlessness of the raids is obviously getting to him, disrupting a wedding for no real gain. Losing Ivan for nothing. I don't think the violence is what bothers him, he's a very active participant, but the fact that it's not for anything - it's not enough of a reward in and of itself. (It's like not really caring one way or the other about being a barista, it's just what you do and it's fine, but then suddenly you're not being paid and also your boss keeps burning you with the steam wand on purpose and you just sort of wish you could just get on with your job and make rent like before.)

S1 Izzy seems to lack the whimsy and imagination that Ed/Stede bring to piracy and to violence, but that doesn't make him stupid. They're playing some kind of made-up game that only they know the rules for, and he's trying to play chess with everyone, even when the rules are only a burden to him.

When we see him training, he's being a dramatic candlelit bitch, but he's also measuring his movements, focusing intently and not just hacking away at everything. Even the candles are interesting to me in this context - we see him playing with candles several times in S1/2 and while yes, there is a certain amount of 'Izzy likes pain' in there to unpick, it's also kind of a metaphor for control - fire is one of the most dangerous things to have on a 'wooden vessel' but a candle is like a tiny pet fire that you control - so long as you're careful and respectful. It's all about risk management, respecting dangerous forces and being aware.

When Stede kills Ned, Izzy looks impressed, even seems to smile for a second, but then he looks more subdued and tells Ed that the first kill is a head-fuck. It's like he's proud of Stede being ABLE to kill, but regretful that Stede CHOSE to kill in a situation where it wasn't necessary at all.

I don't think for a moment that Izzy regrets killing most of the people he kills as part of pirate life, but I think he would regret killing someone he didn't have to. Most people wouldn't want to carry that around with them.

We see in ep7. that Izzy is well respected at Jackie's. He tells bigger guys than him to fuck off and just takes people's chairs. He gets called 'Mr. Hands' instead of by his first name. There's a lot of respect there and I think some of it comes from his reputation with Ed, but also, from people knowing that he's not insane - he can be treated respectfully and everything will be fine for all involved. He's not some menace that's going to stab you as likely as pat you on the back.

For all that people are afraid of Blackbeard (and maybe slightly in awe of Stede as of the Ned thing) for their unpredictable natures and occasional violent outbursts, people are still attacking them or pandering to them, actual respect is something else entirely.

Later, Izzy doesn't pull a weapon and tries to discourage Stede from doing so, even tries to get him to leave to prevent a fight from starting. In the fight, he smashes a stool over someone and doesn't just start killing people - it's an appropriate level of violence for the situation, not an escalation.

It feels like Izzy is very much in that place of controlling himself, being aware and knowing when and how to use force practically, proportionally and effectively. This might be age related, but it's also a big part of his personality. I think that's also why he looks impressed by what Zheng does to Steak Knife (rip) because it's so precise, bloodless and quick. She's basically the best captain for him - she's efficient and controlled.

It's easy to confuse 'is willing to kill' with 'is eager to kill'. I don't think Izzy necessarily loathes that part of his job, he seems ambivalent, but it is still a job to him. It's what pirates do, much as the crew of the Revenge do still kill people, it's just part of their life and not some kind of performance or fun activity. It's work, and it's hard and it's unpleasant and if something can be done an easier way - a smarter way - then that's probably the best way.

[eoieopda]

for absolutely no reason at all

svt members as your partner when you come home from work and become the equivalent of a dead fish because your job has sucked your soul from your body and you have nothing left to give but a few halfhearted flops

LET’S FUCKING GO.

seungcheol and jeonghan also have dead fuckin batteries.

they’re on the ground when you walk in the door. they may or may not have a “reason” for it, but they are fully in starfish mode on the floor, unwilling and unable to be moved. nobody is talking because that takes more energy than either of you have to spare, but it’s nice — finally being able to be quiet. it’s like the at-home equivalent of hiding in the work bathroom/walk-in freezer/whatever to have just a SINGLE MOMENT OF PEACE. sometimes, you just need a good Floor Sit™️. ya know? but…. you’re gonna order the takeout, right? their phone is a meter away, and they cannot be assed to sit up to grab it.

mingyu, joshua, and seokmin are gonna nurture the shit out of you.

you may be a shell of a person rn, but that just means there’s room for whatever criminally delicious thing they’re going to cook for you. they keep looking over their shoulder to check that your soul hasn’t left your body; and they only step away from the stove to top up the drink they made for you. tbh i would not put it past any one of them to hand feed you because they’ll be goddamned if you have to lift a finger. they’re also team Self Care™️ but you have to be the one applying their face mask because they got some in their eye last time and wailed for many minutes about it. y’all are also accidentally drunk on a week night. ooops 😇

jihoon, minghao and chan have already asked whether you want to vent or brainstorm solutions, and you chose the latter.

now, they’re actively listening to every single thought you have about your garbage day. they’re highly emotionally intelligent + pragmatic, so they have 10/10 insight to share without seeming pushy or patronizing about it. when you have a plan worked out for how to tackle xyz bullshit on zero (0) brain juice, they say or do something unexpectedly ridiculous in the midst of this ocean deep convo. that makes you crack tf up. you no longer wait for the sweet release of death 💘

👆🏻if you chose to vent, vernon and seungkwan are ready to rumble.

vernon sits quietly next to you (like, if you’re sprawled out on the living room floor, so is he; no questions asked). he soaks up every little word while emoting perfectly when your dramatic/comedic retelling calls for it. truly a 10/10 audience. you’ve never felt funnier/more interesting, and THAT is the spark you needed.

seungkwan, on the other hand, is getting amped with you — he doesn’t know who he’s fighting, but bitch, hold his americano because he’s coming out swinging. importantly, you’ve aired all your grievances and feel less like you’re being crushed to death under the heavy boot of a capitalist existence ✨

soonyoung, junhui, and wonwoo are on the emotional disaster clean-up crew — but in different ways.

you may be a flat tire, but even those can rotate, so soonyoung is doing his best to get you moving. he knows that partaking in a hobby of some sort is A Lot™️ right now, but it’s also the only thing that will restore your will to live. he’s right. you’ve successfully fought off the intense guilt that comes with foregoing joy due to exhaustion; and you have [insert labor of love project] to show for it.

junhui is more mellow in that he’s fine to leave you as a lump on the couch; HOWEVER, he’s going to be doing silly shit in your peripheral vision until you finally notice and start laughing. who ordered the prop gags? it’s a one-man show and it’s INCREDIBLE. he tires himself out and you both sleep like fuckin babies, and it doesn’t take you 59 years to force yourself out of bed the next morning 👏🏻

wonwoo, on the other hand, is subtle with it. i feel like he would dump himself next to you on the couch, pull up some sort of video game, and be content to exist quietly in your proximity. but just because you’re not talking doesn’t mean he’s not pulling shenanigans. i feel like he’d find the most fucking RIDICULOUS mods known to man (ex. replacing the dragons in skyrim with thomas the tank engine), or make a character that looks like you and run around doing super dumb shit that doesn’t advance the story but makes you cackle. he’s got that very specific lil wonu smirk going on, too, because he knew he’d be successful.

[starg1rlie]

hello! if you dont mind, [💍] w/ kaeya please? im very quiet to the point people dead ass think I'm mute and i have this horrible thing called a resting bitch face that usually scares off people befriending me. a loner but i don't mind it,, but when i get comfy with someone i get really loud, touchy, all smiles, talkative and very friendly, complete opposite... my hobbies are writing (romance mainly), drawing, reading and researching about things i like. i tend to rant about it. ty for your time! you don't have to do this, no pressure <33 have a good day/night!

(heyo, thank you for inputting a request! so sorry it took me so long to write it out for you, but i hope that you'll enjoy these little hcs....hopefully. ahem, happy reading! people wanting to send in a 💍, are more than welcome to! simply list your favorite character, a few hobbies, as well as some of your personality traits!)

ice skating with him

despite his earlier bragging, kaeya couldn't help but gulp nervously when he stepped a wobbly foot onto the ice rink. you insisted on going ice skating for a winter date, since it was "romantic" and all, and as much as he agreed to it, he really didn't see the appeal to ice skating. it was dangerous, no? only dangerous if you're bad at it, you'd teased him earlier before you darted off across the ice, smoothly piveting like a pro. he scowled under his breath and took small baby steps before he yelped, nearly slipping onto his ass. thank god for the railing, otherwise he would have had a sore behind for the rest of the date. need some help? you asked him, skating to where he crouched. kaeya shook his head stubbornly, standing up shakily and taking a step before slipping and falling face-first in the ice. even though your laughter stung his ego, at least he didn't land on his butt...

chatterbox 24/7

kaeya talks your ear off all the time, and if you don't tell him to shut up, he'll continue to go on about his day and complain about the bad things, sort of like he's venting to you, but not venting at the same time. he finds your "bitch face" adorable and amusing, and says, "c'mon, give me a smile, angel," while tugging at either of your cheeks to pull your lips up into a smile. he does this whenever you look like you're about to murder someone, mainly because that expression unnerves him, and also because he likes it when you smile more.

he's your personal editor

kaeya actually is a romance novel lover, so when you bring up your hobby of writing, he practically begged you to let him be your editor. please? pretty please? PREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETTY please? he legit got down on his knees for you, taking both your hands in his and looked up at you with the best puppy dog eyes he could muster, putting every irresitable fiber of his being into it, just so he could get a looksie at your works. if being adorable doesn't work, he'll shed the child(e)ish coat and bring out the fliratious side of himself to get the job done. when he succeeded (let's be real: he will succeed), he let out a low whistle while skimming through your current draft, murmuring, you're pretty good at this. 10/10 editor, would hire again.

kabedonning you

the only reason why he loves kabedonning you is your expression. it's priceless and he'd do it over and over again just to see it. even if you don't react to it, he still finds amusmenet in it, and will take any chance he has to just randomly press you up against the wall with the widest smirk on the planet earth tugging at his lips. some days he'll be bold and lean in, letting his breath brush against the shell of your ear as he whispers, hello there, to you, as casual as can be.

random late-night drives to nowhere

kaeya cranked the volume up as his favorite song came on, rolling down the windows as well with a devlish grin adorning his features while he sings along. gold jewelry shining so bright, strawberry champagne on ice, he'll croon, leaning dramatically against you, even though he should be paying attention to the road. all the while, passing car passengers stare at you two weirdly. he took you out for late-night drives often now, and tonight, it resulted in a bag of some midnight carls jr. stuffing a handful of criss-cross fries into his mouth, he parked the car in front of your place, turning off the engine and turned to give you a kiss (after he finished swallowing of course), salt crumbs brushing against your lips. same time next saturday?

dancing in the middle of the night

(inpsired by rihanna's "dancing in the dark") you were roused from the comfortable haven of your bed at precisely 12:45 am, much to your distress. kaeya had dragged you out to do a little couple's tiktok for his page, and you reluctantly agreed, seeing as he wouldn't possibly let you fall back asleep now. he put on the song and ran out of the house with you in tow, setting up his phone and slid a hand to your waist. dance with me, he said with a bright and dazzling smile, one that would be incredibly impossible to say no to. and so you danced, till you were dizzy from all the spinning and dips he did. watch this video blow up overnight, kaeya said jokingly as he tucked you and himself back into bed twenty minutes later. good night, angel, he murmured against your shoulder. good night, you doofus, you replied, causing the blue-haired male's lips to curve upwards.

hiding post-it notes around the house

kaeya knows that some days you can get busy, too busy in fact, that you have to leave the comfort of his arms and bed to get your day started. and so, him and his genius brain came up with an idea to leave post-it notes around the house. not to piss you off, to remind you he loves you. a green one is stuck on the front of the fridge, with the words good morning angel scrawled on it in blue ink, signed with a fancy-looking 'k'. even though it wasn't anything too special, you loved finding all the hiding spots he hid them in, and you even saved them for your scrapbook. not packrat behavior, just, keeping them for the memories. although the red post-it note in the toaster was a bit too much...

[cas-coding]

my mom is being a dick so im making it all your guys problem because i dont have therapy until thursday

im going to put my vent below the cut because it will probably get triggering, but id appreciate if you guys would let me know any official terms for what my mom is doing to me/if there are any online resources to help

so my mom got home from work today and she was really pissed at everyone and everything. she yelled at me to take out the trash (which i usually do on tuesdays, but much closer to 5pm than the 3pm that it was at that moment) and i said sure let me finish this snack and if i have time before i have to pick up my brother, ill do it then. if not ill do it after.

she said okay and went back to her little candy crush game. two minutes later she tells me i need to pick up my brother. i say yeah i know. ill leave to pick him up at 4pm (which is roughtly 45 min away atp) and she sighs and says fine.

im like okay im not taking this bait. so i finish my snack and i do the garbage. then i pick up my brother and he's a dick to me too. leaves his metal waterbottle on the floor of my car where it will bang around and distract me from driving (i have drivers ocd and a lot of driving anxiety, so ive told him multiple times not to do this and hes usually good with it) and then my brother is all dramatic about getting out of the car and his knee hurting (he is 15) and i say the house isnt that far but im sorry it hurts and he calls me a bitch. what was i supposed to say

but anyway back to my mom. i havent told her my daily stories yet (and i know im fortunate to have parents that care about my day to day) so i tell her this story relating to my friend. i say hey he's been doing this recently and it's annoying and i wish he would stop. i talked to him about it a couple times and he wont stop.

my mom looks me dead in the eye and asks me why im so dramatic about everything. why does it bother you so much. its your fault. get over it. stuff like that. and she says it in this perfectly nice loving mothering voice. im sorry, what?

i said that ive asked him to stop and we've had conversations and he wont. i said its not my fault im trying, please don't say that to me. and my mom just keeps going on, saying oh youre overreacting, just get over it, why are you so pissy with all of your friends.

so im like emotionally exhausted and i blurt out that i have trauma from past friends. my second grade best friend moved away and then ignored my phone calls. my fourth grade best friend moved across the country and never responded to my (five!!!) letters. i told my seventh grade best friend that i thought i might not be a girl (surprise, im a trans man) and she called me the t-slur (i know i can say it, but i really dont like it because of this experience). i told my mom that that friend then went on to tell all of my high school friends (who only knew my chosen name) my birth name and then those friends struggled to use my chosen name ever again because 'oh your birth name fits you so much better!'

and you know what my mom said? she started lecturing me. how i cant let people hurt me. how its my fault i get mad at people. how im the reason no one wants to be my friend. how im damaged goods because of all the shit i wont get over. etc.

and i dont care if my mom makes me food. i dont care if she gives me a house to live in. that's bare minimum and i am not required to love her for that.

and she's never once proved to me that she deserves my love, so in ten years when shes wondering why i never call, this is only one reason why. she does this in so many ways and so many scenarios that i dont know how anyone tolerates her.

as soon as i can financially leave her, i will, and i will never look back.

[junosswans]

had such a terrible dream which i was unable to wake up from and ended up making me super late to work. sighhhhhh

writing down my dream just to vent a bit, it's super intense and dramatic and damn it gave me a panic attack in my sleep which is possibly the first time ive ever experienced that

tw: assault & abuse mention

The dream began with my mother stabbing me in the chest when we were at the library, but then I was the one arrested because apparently my mother had paid off all the witnesses (or the witnesses were her accomplice all along)?? So my mother claimed to be defending herself and I was charged because "I attacked first".

I was like, super scared and panicking and nobody was even treating my wound on my right chest, but then I met a very friendly librarian and he introduced me to this team of lawyers who were willing to represent me, and they treated my wound haphazardly in a hotel room.

I was really scared that I might run into my mother again, and people who were on my mother's side (dressed up as street preachers) were stalking me and following me everywhere. So my lawyer (an old lady), her assistant (a guy in wheelchair) and me were hiding and running all over the place as we look for somewhere to rest and prepare for my case.

At one point we had to get into an elevator with some other passengers, and my lawyer was shielding my face from their sight in case they recognize me, and I was so terrified of being recognized in an enclosed space like that and the panic attack happened. Like I was legitimately shaking and hyperventilating in the dream, which is rare for me, lol.

Then after we've lost the stalkers, we ran into another group of people who mocked my lawyers that the only reason they took on my case was because no one else wanted to hire them and they're useless in court. They got into an argument and I woke up sometime after that.

Many other minor things happened that didn't make sense, but this is the gist of my nightmare and it was like, really scary. Honestly contemplated on taking a day off but then got a text from work saying they need me to handle some physical files, so I ran back to office nonetheless. I wish my mother would STOP HAUNTING ME in dreams like wtf bitch stop looking for me!!! I don't want to see you in real life nor in dreams!!!!

[todo7roki]

YOU'RE MINE - NCT

feat. yuta, mark and haechan

#EPISODE 2

warnings: degradation, dirtytalk, mommykink, discipline obedience (ds), voyeurism, polygamy (four-person relationship), and jealousy.

I was rubbing the soap all over my body, that bath was relaxing me and that was exactly what I needed at that moment, I looked at the mirror that was facing the bathtub of the house and asked myself how I got into that situation, and how and I let everything get so messy in my head.

I was completely distracted until I saw hyuck's silhouette enter the bathroom, he was wearing a wide Bermuda shorts and a white T-shirt that always made him gorgeous -- more than he really was.

— you're taking a long time in the shower, sweet. Need some help? — his voice was so sweet and comforting, I noticed a hint of malice in his tiquet and soon I tried to avoid.

— do not need my love, I am already running out.

— will you sleep with me today? Or you're going to give me some excuse and leave me in my hand once again.

I wanted to call donghyuck dramatic, but he was right. Yesterday would be the day I would spend with him, but yuta had made me tired and fit for any other activity, nakamoto had been bitched by something that had happened in his work and I was there, willing to be the person in whom he would vent all his anger.

I wanted to reward my boy, he was always so good to me, always treating me like a queen. I couldn't let him go that way.

— prepare the room, then I'll finish my bath. — he left a little seal on my lips and left the bathroom.

Our relationship was somewhat different, donghyuck was my fleshy boy who liked to be treated like a poor boy who deserved care at all times, while yuta was the man who liked to treat me like his bitch, leaving marks on my body and throwing insults. I was the happiest woman in the world to have these men in my life.

When I finished my bath, I put on a comfortable outfit and went towards the room. Walking down the hallway I could hear some noise coming from the living room, but I thought I'd be yuta coming back from her work, even if it's too early for that. I went into the room and closed the door, but I didn't lock it.

The air conditioner was on and I felt the hair on my arm shiver because of the cold little tree, hyuck was sitting at the computer table in his room and hearing the noise the door he looked back and stood up.

— kitty, today I wanted to do something different, can you take off your blouse and let me give you a treat? — understanding where this body wanted to go with this was not a difficult thing, so it was strange he didn't ask for it at first and make a hole in it.

— yeah.

I took off my blouse and the boy asked me to lie on his bed, and soon after I could feel his cold hand on my back. He was doing a massage. His lips were also felt by my skin which was now cold and I could hear his voice very low in my ear.

— i want you to love me, as you love yuta, what does he have that I don't have?

— I love you donghyuck.

— you treat me differently, if it's because of the sex he does, I also know how to be aggressive, I can try to be yuta for a few hours. — i laughed at his naivety.

— you are different, but I love you both the same way. Don't change who you are because of me.

He turned me to face his face and placed such a nice kiss on my lips, it was almost taking another direction when I heard the sound of the door opening.

— sorry, I wanted to talk to hyuck but I didn't know you were here with him. Mark lee's melodic voice left me motionless.

He had warned that he would spend a week at his friend taeyong's house and suddenly returned two days earlier. Mark and I had fought over something silly and he said what he shouldn't and ended up hearing something he didn't want to hear.

"You're jealous of yuta with me, but I'm not just yours. Understand that."

It was what I had told him after a fight of ours, we were at a party and he had made a scandal after witnessing a kiss between me yuta and he was so drunk that he had banged in front of everybody and started saying that I was just his. That confusion resulted in a lee with a bleeding nose and a nakamoto with a purple eye.

And now I was in this situation, underneath donghyuck and seeing mark look at me all gracefully.

— mark I really want to eat her here in front of you, will you hit me if I do that?

— go ahead, I don't care, she's not mine. — his voice was heavy, I did not know how to differentiate stubbornness from anger.

— iam your mark lee, but I am also theirs. — kissed donghyuck again, I would really have fun that night.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

It’s A Match Chapter One

Masterlist

Disclaimer

Summary: Filming is over and Henry returns home to and empty house. And he doesn't like it, things are getting to him and he doesn't want to be alone anymore. Then his brother suggests online dating, it sounds mad but henry decides to give it a shot. If worst comes to worst he just deletes the profile. He has nothing to loose right?

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Cheese, Self Indulgent Fic, Rpf, Plus sized reader.

A/N: so I wrote this before the whole 'girlfriend' shock and everything that has followed. I was of two minds whether to ever post it but honestly, this is my blog and I've clearly stated that i am going to continue writing Rpf. I want to do a little ficlet/mini fic and well here we go. It wont be smutty just  somewhat angsty then fluffy. Enjoy~

Taglist: In Reblogs.

Henry slumped back on the seat in his conservatory and sighed, from here he could see his brothers and their wives outside, each snuggled up on the out door wicker sectional he had got to have the family over. It was the first family get together for over a year. He was happy, god it was amazing to see them but... He couldn't help being a tad envious.

They all had a family, wife and kids to go through this shitstorm in. He had no one, well he ha Kal. But that was it he sighed and looked away sipping from his cup slowly takeing a moment for himself. He needed to just chill, but it was getting hard... This year had really knocked him back he was at an all time low he hadn't felt like this for a long time. He knew he was depressed, he felt stupid there was no reason to be but there we go.

Henry had been getting himself all twisted for a while now, filming the Witcher helped but now that was over and he was home alone. Left with his thoughts in a big empty house.

"Sooo little brother want to tell me what's going on or am I gonna have to get mum in here?" Henry jumped at the voice and spun around to face his brother who was keeping a safe distance at the door. Wiping his hands down clearly just having washed them again.

"I ah its nothing, you know me I'm a worry wart" he said waving off his older brother he didn't want to bring down the mood of the small gathering, it was why he had come in here to take a breather.

"You called us all here for a visit hen, out of the blue when lockdown is still being eased out. Its clear you don't want to be alone, yet your sitting in here alone." His older brother said leaning on the door frame folding his arms trying to figure out what was really going on. He could see his little brother was hurting he wanted to help.

"I've got Kal" Henry said with a chuckle and looked about for the bear only to frown and sigh seeing the room was empty apart fro  him and his brother.

"Kal's outside with the kids hen, what's up? You can tell me you know" henry sided as his sibling  moved sitting in the small seat across from him. He knew that his family would listen but he felt so... spoilt like he was asking too much and was being selfish. It wasn't like him.

He grunted leaning back choosing not to look at his brother instead focusing on the cup in his hand. He spun it slightly then heaved a sigh. He wasn't getting away with not speaking about it, he was going to air out his worries one way or another. With his brother or his mother, and he loved his mother but this was? He wanted to keep this issues close to his chest. So far only Kal knew about his problems.

"I... I've had enough... just had enough of fucking covid and being alone... i felt isolated before all this shit kicked off and now?" He vented releasing all the fears he had. It was tough, he was a family man without his own little family, he hadn't managed to find anyone to share his life with and it got to him. He tried being sincere and polite, he took care of himself and tried staying true to himself but... something was missing it had to be! On paper he was a safe bet a good man! Yet his relationships never worked. There were different opinions or his other half couldn't handle the life style or they tried changing him or they couldn't put up with the way he loved so furiously- so openly wanting to always hold and kiss them. It just never quite worked.

"Its- fuck everything has just caught up with me...worries I've had for a few years now I could ignore them you know? I had other stuff going on, was always out and about meetings and press tours I was busy! But now?" He tried putting his feeling into words but he was conscious, he didn't want to whine or bitch about his life. He loved his work and the life he had made for himself he just? Wanted someone to share it with.

"Now after covid you've got all the time in the world to think?" Henry nodded agreeing with his brother. Covid had made him face these fears head on. He has been alone for the best part of a year with the uncertainty of his work and filming quarantines and isolations.

"Yeah, it hurts I'm... I'm in deep and I? I don't know how I'm getting out of this slump" henry finally said outloud, his brother dipped his head listening to him as he ranted. Started letting out all the frustration and anxiety out but stopped short with another growl closeing his hand around the cup tightly hissing in frustration then looked away.

"And what's caused it? I know you hate being alone but?" Henry sighed shaking his head as his brother tried coaxing more out of him. He drew in a shaky breath wanting to cry, he was just so lost and upset over being upset and alone.

"Two lock downs... Two alone- I? If this carries on for the next few years I don't... I don't want to be alone anymore! I want to settle down, I want an actual personal life! A relationship a family and? How? How am I gonna find all that? They want fame or money or something! Women never seem to want me for me, they say the do then judge me for my hobbies- I'm a geek I like tech and games and fantasy! And women don't like that" he spewed the words like they were venom, half ashamed of being so dramatic but the fear was real. Henry was scared, he wanted love. He wanted a family of his own, and it seemed impossible, now more then ever.

"I want to meet someone who will take me as I am, for me and I just I'm giving up. I'm giving up on it I can feel it, almost forty and look, alone unmarried no kids-I have no one to share my life with, it hurts am I not good enough for that?"  He hung his head as he spoke the final words put loud. He felt so vain and full of himself when he said them out loud, his skin crawled.

But it was how he felt, being the muscular decent looking man he was didn't go with his personality. He was a geek and the woman who were drawn to him didn't want that. And the woman that shared his hobbies normally weren't confident enough to even speak to him. Society's views on acceptable couples had put Henry in no mans land.

"What about online dating?" His brother spoke up but Henry just grunted rolling his eyes frustrated.

"What? No I cant do that I'd be fucking swamped" he hissed in irritation frustrated at the mere suggestion of him trying to date online.

"Whoa hold your horses let me finish I mean come on Hen there's bound to be hundreds of shy sweet women on there, I mean girls that are into your hobbies and stuff aren't usually the ones out and about partying and stuff, so its more likely they will be online" his brother quickly explained before Henry could pop off on one and shut him down.

Henry opened his mouth and stopped himself. That was a good point. Many of the women he would click with weren't going to be in bars or fancy parties. They were normally shy and at home most of the time reading or playing games.

"I... You really think i could meet someone? Meet the one online?" He asked in a small voice warming to the idea. His sibling smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes little brother, your a down to earth guy, just make a profile and have a look, if you don't like what you see you can delete the profile" henry nodded slowly thinking it over. There'd be no harm if he failed well he'd be no worse off, a little disheartened but that's about it.

"Look write down a few things you want in your dream girl, have a pseudo name like fucking I don't know Hank! Or something and say your a runner on set or something" his brother spoke up quickly as Henry sat back and actually thought about it seriously. He was right, henry could tweak things and be careful about what he shared and if he did meet the one then she'd understand... He could explain the predicament he was in. That he just wanted someone who liked him for him. And he would only reveal himself to her if she was the one and he was sure she would understand. As long as he was himself and honest about everything else in his life then there was no harm... and if he used proper photos of himself just... half cropped out then? It wasn't catfishing? Because he was being himself just using the nickname his mother used to call him.

"O-okay so be myself but... Just tweak a few things? So they don't know its me?" He reiterated to his brother still trying to figure out the morality of this whole idea.

"Yes! No full on pictures, no photos of Kal either new photos henry not old, maybe of your eyes up or something? Girls love blue eyed boy- not your right that brown will give you away... you could even fuck em up with a behind the scenes character photo? I mean come on how many men use a superman photo for their profile these days?" He encouraged wanting more then anything to cheer up his little brother.

"I yeah... That could work ,thank you- I'm sorry I got so worked up it... Its just getting to me now" henry apologised but his brother shook his head and chuckled standing up to go back outside to the others that were all happily chatting in the garden.

"I know Hen, look just give it a go, you might be surprized... come on lets get back out there, after all you are the host~ you cant just run off and hide" henry grinned standing and following his brother. It was decided, he'd give online dating a go!

A week later Henry sat at the computer everything was ready, he'd taken some precise photos and had spent the last half hour writing a profile up. He had felt a little guilty about this... Was he lying? Technically it was him, he was going by Hank which was a nickname his parents gave him as a child, luckily this site didn't require a surname because honestly? He had no clue! To fend off some guilt he had thrown in a behind the scenes photo of himself as superman it wasn't much but it helped take the edge off. The other photos were cropped and there were a good few just so that the women knew he wasn't technically a catfish; he even did one with him covering half of his face with a piece of paper with Hank scrawled across it. At the time he felt silly but it helped with his anxiety over the whole thing.

He paused for a second eyeing the screen rereading the profile over and over trying to make sure it was alright and honest. And it was, he had explained a little about himself, his hobbies and interests and his job... Only brushing over he worked for the film and tv industry recently working for Netflix he hadn't exactly explained what he did but there was enough information.

With a deep breath he clicked the button his mouse hovered over going live with the profile. Now all he had to do was wait and hope he caught a good womans eye. Within moments a few profiles popped up, matches. He scanned them flicking through some of the profiles and felt his heart crack. They were all full of badly filtered photos and used slang that to be honest he didn't even understand. What was so hard about using plain English?

He growled growing frustrated clicking through what were clearly a bunch of wannabe sugar babies. Each profile had a main photo a little bit of info then a few more pictures added to them. He scanned each one quickly going through the motions judging each one. 'Too far away... Your clearly not even eighteen?... Oh you like dc? Really hate to break it to you but thor is not a dc character' Henry grunted as he bypassed what felt like hundreds of women each with their own 'duck face' selfie most advertising their Instagram pages some even ballsy enough to add their only fans pages.

'Wait a second who was that?' He paused and scrolled back up and eyed the image on screen. It was a face on photo a cute woman smiling uncomfortably. Unlike everyone else's there was no distorting blur or heavy editing, the only make up was in the form of eyeliner in a set of black slightly uneven cat eyes. A slightly skewed black flicks making a point of no editing on the photo.

She was a full figured woman with proper kissable round cheeks and a sweet nervous grin. Her eyes were what got him, they were kind and genuine he could see she was uneasy about the photo but she was beautiful. She lived about half hour away which wasn't to bad.

Henry clicked the profile and scrolled down she didn't smoke, drunk occasionally and had no children. She did however have a college education in animal care and ran a small business. Centred on dogs by the looks of it. He moved further down reading the profile.

Y/n, 30, business owner, e/c, 5'4, curvy

I'm shy so will take a while to warm up to you. A honest woman, sometimes to honest I don't seem to have a filter 🤗 I'm laid back and tend to be sarcastic and I love animals I'm a kc certified dog breeder as well as run a small successful business that caters to dogs. So if you are allergic or don't like dogs then leave now but thank you for clicking🙃

I spend most of my free time gaming or reading. I enjoy the fantasy genre and love dc and marvel (though I love dc just a tad more🤫)

I have one fur baby in the form of my lovely girl Amii who is a three year old malamute. Yes malamute not a husky or Akita so again if you don't like dogs or big dogs I'm not the girl for you.

I'm looking for someone to have fun and maybe build a life with. Covid has been tough being single and decided that it was about time I tried this whole online dating thing. If you want to chat pop me a message 🥰

I do not have a personal Instagram, snapchat or only fans! Stop asking for pictures!😠😠

Henry's face split into a huge grin. She seemed to good to be true. She was wholesome, successful in her own right and looked fun. She didn't seem to be full of kale and bullshit. Just genuine and? Henry couldn't put his finger on it but there was something drawing him to this woman.

True to her word there was no Instagram link, no only fans or snap chat or anything. He scrolled further seeing photos of her and the biggest fluffiest dog he had ever seen in his life. She was sitting down next to who he assumed was Amii her dog and he melted. Y/n looked happy and content, living her best life.

There was nothing that sent alarm bells ringing, no racey photos or 'Netflix and chill' innuendos. The profile was clean and genuine.  He was right the woman was a little chunky but extraordinarily beautiful. The curves suited her and made her look more... cheerful and he could tell she was strong aswell, you had to be to have a huge dog like that about you.

There were photos of her walking a large pack of dogs in the wood; that he recognised! They were the very same he took Kal to only ten minuets down the road, he even recognised the small logo of her company on the jacket she wore. He had seen dog walkers wearing the same jacket so he knew of her brand. I he remembered correctly the company offered dog walking, grooming and kennel facilities as well as offering Breeding services helping stud dogs and stuff. They also helped advertise registered breeders and took in rescues for rehoming. It was a brilliant little company that he had even used for Kal once or twice to get his teeth cleaned and nails clipped, because Kal was a bugger for his pedicures!

He moved further down seeing more photos of the woman a small section with the games and tv she liked. Witcher was in both the tv and games category aswell as peaky blinders, Vikings and a few other shows.

Henry paused as he saw the chat button. Should he? He but his lip twisting on the spot in he chair rocking from side to side. What harm is there? He could just send a message she looked like a fun loving woman, he shared the same interests and stuff... so why not?

His fingers hovered over the keys ready to type out the words. But he choked. His mind ran blank what does he say? Hi? I saw your profile? Does he ask for a date? What does he do?

He let his hands fall and growled. Then scanned over the side of the message bar seeing a few pre-typed responses.

'It's a match!' 'You look fun, lets chat' 'I like your profile picture'

He winced they all seemed... wrong? Somehow they were polite and all but it- they wasn't personal or anything just... not quite right. He looked down as Kal came padding over and slumped next to him resting his chin on his foot with a loud sigh. With that Henry had an idea typing away a little message and hitting send before he could really think.

You sighed typing away the latest wage slips and added up all the various overtime, you really needed some more staff on now that lockdown was coming to an end. Thankfully animal care was essential so you hadn't been hit too hard a few staff were on furlough as they were extreme high risk and shielding but you were going out of your way to make the premises covid safe. Luckily it wasn't too hard as much of the business was just a few staff and lots of dogs.

You frowned when a chat icon popped up in to corner of your screen. 'Hank?' You though trying to remember if you knew a Hank? Maybe a client or some old friend... but you honestly couldn't recall. You l saved your document and clicked the small icon bringing up a chat and frowned a you read the little message.

'I call my dog bear but he has nothing on Amii, Shes the fluffiest dog I've ever seen in my life she looks perfect for bear hugs😅'

'what the hell?' You cursed scrunching your nose up at the screen rereading the words. That's a bit random... you clicked his icon a small photo of half of his face then froze as a dating profile opened up. 'Oh... shit' you said seeing that your own profile you'd set up a few days ago out of curiosity had garnered the attention of the handsome blue eyed stranger. You swallowed biting you lip thoughts of finishing updating your records now gone as you scanned Hanks profile and a small smile crossed your face.

Hank, 37, works in the film industry. Blue eyes, 6ft, muscular.

Decided to finally try this online dating, unsure what to say other then I'm looking for a life partner. I like to think I'm funny and laid back. I'm fit and active but that doesn't mean you have to be, but maybe my lady could come for walks with me and my four legged son? I promise he's my best freind and a good boy.

My job is tough and I'm away for long periods of time, but when I'm home I like to play games and am into warcraft. I paint miniatures when I can. Fantasy and superheroes are a big part of my hobbies so if you don't like all things geek then I'm probably not for you.

But if they are? Then feel free to message me, I will reply when I can.

You read and re-read the profile And your hands hovered over your chicklet keyboard. Biting your lip, do you respond? He seemed sweet and real... if that made sense. You took a deep breath. What was the worst that could happen? Asking for a plane ticket? You decided to take a chance and typed back a reply hitting send whilst you had your nerve and then flushed.

"And they say fluffy dogs only lure in women~" You giggled to yourself  moving a hand over the huge fluffy girl beside you giving her pets whislt thinking of a reply.

[herofics]

Dabi beats up an asshole ex step-mom, but it’s comfort

Guess who isn't doing so well on this wonderful day, you fucking guessed it, me. They’re childhood friends and the reader stayed in contact with Dabi even after he left his family and they both became villains, the reader not so much but they aren’t exactly a lawful citizen. Also can you tell I’m venting some shit, obviously this is highly exaggerated and I wouldn’t hurt anyone, but god does it feel good to get some anger out. I’m 6cm taller than Dabi and much bigger, and I’m saying this because it ended up being a bit of self insert, or at least with a big reader.

You weren’t really sure what triggered it this time. Scratch that, you knew exactly what made it happen, but you didn’t really want to accept it.

“Fuck!” you yelled as you hit the brick wall for the hundredth time that evening.

You knuckles were bleeding and bruised, but you didn’t care, you barely even felt the pain anymore.

“Fucking bitch!” you shouted and struck the wall one more time.

“Ya know, there’s a perfectly good punching bag right there” Dabi said as he leaned against the doorframe.

You turned around, out of breath, and crossed your arms in front of yourself, trying to hide your hands.

“Can you just go away?” you asked, sounding more desperate than angry.

“Sure can, but I’m not gonna” he scoffed and started walking towards you.

You took a step back, but now your back was against the wall and you couldn’t really get away from him.

“Nowhere to run now” Dabi smirked and forcefully twisted your hands away from your sides, to see the damage you’d done this time.

“So?” you asked, looking away from him.

“You didn’t fracture anything did you?” he asked after a while, and let go of your hands.

“I-I don’t think so”

“Good, cause we’ve got something to do” he turned around and started walking out.

You grabbed your hoodie from the floor and threw it on, following Dabi out of the dusty gym.

“What exactly do you have in mind?” you asked as he pulled his hood up and put on a black facemask.

“That hag of an ex step-mom of yours is bothering you again, isn’t she? We’re gonna go greet her”

“How’d you know?” you asked and shoved your hands into your hoodie pockets.

“You yellin ‘fucking bitch’ at the top of your lungs while hittin a wall kinda gave it away”

“Ah” you shook your head.

You walked through the city, without saying so much as a word after that. When you got to her house, you grabbed Dabi’s forearm and squeezed it a little too tight for his liking.

“You’re not gonna kill her, right?” you asked, while still holding onto his arm.

“Like I said, we’re just gonna greet her” he growled and ripped his arm away from your grip.

“Sorry, I-”

You were interrupted by the door opening and that hag peeking out the door. She saw you and you could see her eyes darken. It honestly gave you goosebumps, and brought back a lot of the shit she had done.

“”What are you doing here? I thought you never wanted to see me again” she said spitefully.

“I didn’t, and I don’t, but he does”

Dabi took his mask off and shoved it into his pocket. Even though you could only see the side of his face you knew he had that crazy gleam in his eyes and he was smiling like a maniac.

“Hello Mrs” he said and pushed her back into the house so forcefully, she fell on her ass into the hallway, leaving a smoldering handprint on her shirt.

“Dabi? Isn’t this enough, she looks scared enough”

“No, not what she did to you” he hissed and you could see the smoke coming from his hands.

“What I did?! That brat is-” she started but Dabi pretty much showed his boot into her mouth.

“No one asked you anythin” Dabi growled and waved his finger in front of her face, before taking his boot off her face.

“You said you wouldn’t kill her” you said, not even really sure if you wanted to convince him.

“I won’t” Dabi said.

“But?”

“But ya might want to call an ambulance soon” he said as he grabbed her by the collar with both hands.

The fabric started smoking and burning and your former step-mother screamed, hopefully more because of fear than pain. You pressed your hands to your ears to muffle at least some of the sounds. You stepped outside for a few minutes, before calling the ambulance, but after a while you couldn’t take the noises anymore and you slammed the door open.

“Dabi!” you finally yelled and grabbed his arm.

Dabi turned his head to look at you and stopped struggling against your grip. Even though you looked angry, it didn’t seem to be directed at him. You were looking past him and down to the human sack of shit laying on the floor. Even though you were obviously angry, you also seemed very sad.

“Fine” he sighed and ripped his arm out of your grasp.

“I called an ambulance, it should be here soon, so we need to go” you said, now looking more like your calm self.

You grabbed Dabi’s hand and started dragging him away from the scene of the crime. When you had put enough distance between yourself and the house, you turned around and noticed that he was bleeding from his face and the hand you had grabbed. You figured your former step-mother had managed to rip a few of his staples off.

“I’ll patch you up once we get back to my place, put your mask back on and maybe you won’t look as suspicious as you are” you remarked.

“Yeah, yeah” he said and took his hand back to put his mask on.

You lead the way to your apartment, when you got there you sat Dabi down on the couch.

“Wait there, I’ve got some replacement staples for you and I’m gonna clean off the blood”

“I can do that myself” he argued, but you weren’t having any of it.

“Oh shut up, you’re too angry to do shit right now, I felt how your hands were shaking”

“Fuck you” Dabi growled and leaned back on the couch.

You carried one of the kitchen chairs in front of the couch and sat down on it, setting the wound cleaning supplies on the coffee table behind you.

You grabbed Dabi’s chin and started cleaning the blood off his face. You had to swipe his hair out of the way a couple of times too.

“You’re too goddamn dirty for this to be of any actual help. Go take a shower you dirty gremlin”

Dabi just sighed, but obliged with your request without much resistance, but he still made sure to smack you on the back of the head as he walked by.

“I’ll give you a t-shirt and a pair of my joggers, so throw your clothes in the washer” you yelled as he slammed the bathroom door shut.

You could hear the shower turn on and while he was in there, you decided to patch up your knuckles. You disinfected your hands and wrapped some gauze around your knuckles. Then you left the clothes you promised next to the bathroom door. You laid down on the couch to wait for Dabi to come out of the shower.

Dabi stood under the warm water for a while. How long had it been since he had actually taken a proper shower, with soap and all. He opened a couple of the shampoos and shower gels, before he found the one that smelled the most like you. He decided not to use it, but instead just took a deep breath of the smell and memorized the brand. Maybe he would buy it for you sometime. Dabi put the bottle back and chose something else that would be better for the burnt parts of his skin.

“What am I gonna do with them?” he muttered. “How do I keep them safe?”

Laying there on the couch, you got to thinking, it wasn’t like you had any love left for your ex-step-mom, but you didn’t really know how to feel about what Dabi had done. It’s not that she didn’t deserve every bit of it, it’s more about the fact that you felt like you should’ve done it yourself and not let Dabi bloody his hands again. You knew what he was, you knew who he worked with and the things he’d done, but you didn’t want to use him like some sort of an attack dog.

The bathroom door opened and Dabi stepped out. He was wearing the pants you’d given him but he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He was drying his hair on the towel and when he was done, he draped it over the chair you had brought next to the couch.

“You good?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine” you said and grabbed the staples and the surgical stapler off the table. “Sit down, and I’ll patch you up too”

Dabi sat down on the couch next to you and was very still during the whole stapling operation. You were used to doing it for him, since you’d been doing this for years, ever since he had had a need for it. You grabbed his chin again and started working on his face, it didn’t seem like the skin had ripped too badly, which was a damn miracle, so you just pressed the stapler close to the old spots and pressed it down. Next was his hand, it looked much worse, but you managed to patch him up with the addition of a few stitches and the staples on top. Even when you were done, you didn’t let go of his hand, you just looked at it and brushed your thumb over the border of normal and burnt skin.

“Do you hate me now?” he asked suddenly.

“I may be annoyed at you, but I could never hate you” you said as you put the last staple to his hand. “Touya…” you used his real name to see if he would react any differently, but he didn’t seem to care. “We’ve been friends since we were kids, and you’ve always looked out for me. You know I appreciate that, but I don’t want to take advantage of your willingness to stand up for me, and I’m not so weak that I would need it anyway”

“I don’t do it because I think you’re weak. I do it because you’re too damn kind to give shitty people what they deserve”

“You might be right about that” you sighed, finally letting go of his hand. “Why’d you choose today to do that anyway?”

“Just felt like it” he shrugged.

“Sure…” you rolled your eyes. “Also, could you put a shirt on?”

“Why? You getting all hot and bothered about it?” he smirked.

“No-no, jackass” you said and hit his shoulder.

“Ouch” he said a bit over dramatically.

“Seriously though, if at all possible, I wish you didn’t have to bloody your hands even more because of me”

“I would burn the whole world down for you, and there is nothing you could do about it” Dabi said quietly, but you could hear he was very serious.

“Thank you, but I’m sure it won’t come to that” you said.

You moved to lay down on the couch but Dabi pulled you down so your head was on his lap. You could feel his hands in your hair and you took a deep breath. He smelled like sea salt and toasted cinnamon. Everything was better like this, just like this.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Let's Call It Funny

Prompt: Hi! If you know about those gen z peter parker posts, could your write something based on that? With Steve Getting It (tm) because fatalistic nihilism in humor tended to show up during the world wars and we’re seeing a reflection of that now? Sorry- I just think it’d make great options for steve and peter bonding, and dad!tony but actual emotions (gasp!) You can totally ignore this if you want!

Don't ever apologize for giving me such a great ask

Read on Ao3 Part 2

Warnings: uhhh gen z humor

Pairings: none! all found family in this bitch

Word Count: 2529

Here’s the thing about humor. It’s not necessarily that one generation is any funnier than another, it’s just that high school kids are perpetually the funniest people alive. Something about being in a pressure cooker of an environment with a bunch of other people whose bodies are changing in new unpredictable ways whilst having very little say in how their lives go creates humor. Gasp of shock, right?

So basically what Peter’s trying to say is that he’s fucking hilarious.

Come on, not only does he have the default high schooler stuff, he’s also gay, which gives him an instant bonus. He’s trans, which opens up a whole new subset of humor for him to explore. He’s neurodivergent as fuck, and we all know that makes people funny as hell. And if that weren’t enough, he’s severely traumatized and he’s Spider-Man.

Peter Parker is funny as hell.

What is truly devastating—and really, it’s their loss—is that so few people seem to appreciate it.

Ned gets it. Ned’s not someone Peter would expect to not get it, just because hey, it’s Ned. They’ve met each other in the hallways and been like ‘hey! You’re still alive! Congrats on having a body!’ Only for the other one to go ‘hey! You’re alive too! I wish I had an intangible form!’

Because bodies are stupid and evolution really fucked us over but at least we’re not horses.

A solid 50% of their interactions are just quoting John Mulaney and Bo Burnham bits back and forth at each other. Peter’s never gonna forget the day they both had detention and had to watch that stupid Cap PSA—it’s propaganda, you Nazi fuckwits—and something reminded them of the ‘horse loose in a hospital’ bit and they just did it. Full out. Stood up and did the actions and everything. The rest of the room was either trying to do it with them—and failing, because they didn’t have nearly enough practice—or looking so confused. The security guard—Paul, he’s great—just looked at them blearily after they finished and went:

“I mean, you kids are right, but you’re not supposed to talk in detention.”

Well, excuse them for trying to make it more entertaining for everyone.

MJ gets it. If Peter’s being honest, he learned most of his humor from her. She is the master and it is an honor to study in her wake. He’s definitely hijacked the asking whether or not anything’s actually meaningful existentialism jokes and they’ve wormed their way into his day-to-day repertoire.

“Why are you late, Mr. Parker?”

“Time is a social construct, Mrs. B, none of us are ever late or early except in the subjective spacetime paths. The limits of our sensory perception make it so we can’t tell if anything is real, let alone whether or not they conform to some arbitrary definition of ‘time.’”

“…just sit down, Peter.”

See? It works.

Aunt May gets…worried.

Sure, they’ve actually talked about when Peter needs help and wants to reach out and when he’s just making jokes off the cuff because hey, humor’s a great coping mechanism or it’s just a joke and not that serious. Peter loves his Aunt May, so so so much, and the last thing he wants to do is really worry her. And she’s gotten pretty good at figuring out when he’s just joking and when he’s spiraling.

Sometimes, though…

“Peter,” Aunt May calls from the kitchen, “did you remember to stop by the store on your way home?”

Peter freezes halfway through the door.

“Peter?”

He swallows. “…no.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am too stressed and consumed by the swirling pit of blackness deep in my soul to remember my head is connected to my body, let alone remember to go to the store.”

Silence.

“…Aunt May?”

“Do you want to drop off your stuff and then go to the store?”

“…yeah, please.”

“Love you, Pete.”

“Love you!”

“Try to remember that you’ve got arms so you can pick stuff up.”

“Got it!”

See? It’s fine.

The Avengers don’t get it. Like, at all.

Natasha and Clint like, sorta get it? They make the same jokes all the time when they think Peter can’t hear them, which—come on, you guys are super spies, surely you know people are gonna hear you when they’re gonna hear you. Natasha will make a crack about something, Clint will laugh and shove her shoulder. It’s their dynamic, we get it. But when Peter does it…

“Hey, Baby Spider?”

Peter sticks his head up from the ceiling. “Yeah?”

“Where’re you crawling off to?”

“I’m gonna go hide in the garage.”

Natasha blinks up at him. “Why?”

“Because if I get crushed by the airlock doors then I won’t have to do my paper tomorrow.”

Silence. Natasha’s mask is too good for Peter to actually see what’s going on with her, let alone from this angle, but silence isn’t good.

“Nat—oof!”

Something blurs out of the vent nearby and tackles him down onto the couch.

“Clint!”

“Nope,” Clint mutters, wrapping Peter up in a hug as Natasha comes to join them. “You’re staying with us now, Pete.”

“Guys, I’m fine.”

“Peter,” Natasha says softly, “don’t joke about that, you’ll make us worry.”

“I don’t wanna do that,” Peter mumbles, “but it’s fine.”

“Coping mechanism, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s got too many brain cells to do that,” Clint says, ruffling Peter’s hair.

“Stark has a lot of brain cells, you see what good that does him?”

“Hmm. Guess you’re gonna have to stay awhile, Pete.”

There are worse fates. Definitely.

Thor just kind of gets confused by it. He acts like Peter isn’t going to be absolutely fine because there’s no need to do anything like that. No, Peter, you don’t have to put the bleach in first into your cereal, there’s plenty of milk left over. No, Peter, you don’t have to throw yourself off the roof because your laptop is freezing, Stark has so many just lying around. No, Peter, you don’t have to pack a rucksack and run away to the Alps and live like a recluse, come here and get a hug.

Peter suspects Thor’s playing dumb on purpose. The man is smart as hell, there’s no way all of this is flying over his head. And honestly, it warms his heart a little bit when he sees Thor’s sincere, concerned look when he thinks Peter’s not looking.

Banner and Rhodey just kinda shake their heads and move on. They’re used to it. They live and work with some of the most dramatic fucking people in the goddamn universe, they’re used to a little bit of extra humor. Occasionally one of them will give him a look that says he’s pushing his luck, but that’s not often. Less often now ‘cause he knows what he can get away with. He’s also seen them hiding smiles behind their hands or poorly disguised coughs. They’re not as slick as they think they are.

Tony.

Tony is the fucking worst.

Peter can’t get away with so much as sighing too hard before Iron Dad™ is swooping in all soft words and concerned touches. Jesus. You’d think he’d get it, he uses humor as a coping mechanism too, goddamnit, why is he so worried about Peter?

Okay, fine, he knows why.

MJ’s over at the Tower, having another one of her ‘sketch people in crisis’ appointments with Natasha. Peter is coming off of a 32-hour caffeine rush and is violently wishing for death. Tony is in the kitchen doing…something.

“Hey, do you think bleach would make a good smoothie?”

Tony wheels around to see MJ pulling a glass out of the cupboard.

“Kid—“

“Sounds like a filling breakfast,” Peter groans, “can you make me one too?”

“…I’m legitimately concerned,” comes Tony’s mutter.

MJ ignores him. “Who’s the bitch on your forehead?”

Peter rubs absentmindedly at the massive knot on his head, courtesy of a wall that rudely decided to move at the last second while Peter was attempting to walk through a doorway. “He’s called DJ Braindeath and he’s my only friend in the world.”

“Peter—“

“Oh did you meet him at the furry convention?"

“Technically it’d be a buggie convention.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?”

“The pantry doesn’t have good coffee, I’m going to Starbucks.” MJ grabs her bag. “You want anything?”

“A will to live?”

“Peter, what the fuck—“

“Oof, I’ve only got like…20 bucks.”

Peter lets his head drop back to the counter. “Then just leave me here to die.”

“Can I have champagne at your funeral?”

“I’ll be dead, I won’t fucking care.”

“God, I wish that were me.”

Then MJ’s gone and Peter gets treated to a 20-minute conversation with a very concerned Tony Stark that he doesn’t remember most of because hey caffeine crashes aren’t fun.

He definitely does it on purpose sometimes just to wind Tony up. Like there’s this one incident with an interview he does as Spider-Man and he gets asked what he thinks about Tony Stark’s newest intern, Peter Parker.

“That boy’s an embarrassment, just…complete failure. Can’t speak without stuttering through every other word and self-esteem issues all over the place. Also looks like he got dressed in the dark.”

The reporter had awkwardly moved on to another question. The interview aired later that day while Peter was at the Tower. Tony sat next to him on the couch about halfway through.

“You look good, Pete.”

Peter had mumbled halfheartedly, only to hear the reporter ask the same question.

“See, that’s the problem with having a secret identity, you don’t…” Tony trailed off as he heard the answer.

Peter snorted as Spider-Man finished talking. “Say that to my face, you bitch, get a real job. At least I don’t look like someone vomited silly string all over my spandex.”

“Are you okay?”

See? Fun.

The only one he’s made a conscious effort to not be this funny around is Steve.

Because, okay, here’s the thing. Steve’s disappointed look has no effect on him anymore. He’s immune, motherfuckers, he’s had detention too many times for it to still work. Here’s the other thing: Steve doesn’t actually use that tone of voice that often. It’s this meticulously crafted image he plays up in interviews because it catches all the bad guys so off guard when Captain America is suddenly swearing a blue streak at them and telling them to go fuck themselves in, honestly, quite creative ways. The sincere Steve Rogers disappointment and concern still very much works. Also doesn’t help that Steve does caring so fucking well, like…who gave him the right to say a few things and hold Peter like he’s something precious and do the quick one-two punch of saying a super sincere compliment and following it up with ‘I love you.’ Who did that? It’s rude. Stop it.

And yeah, Steve’s the resident Mom at the Ready. It’s a risk to even sit on your bed looking sad ‘cause here he comes, wearing something snuggly and saying ‘hey’ in that stupid, stupid compassionate voice. So Peter knows he’s just gonna end up crying from too much soft if Steve actually gets concerned. Which won’t be fair because he’s gonna try and explain that he’s fine and it’s just his sense of humor while crying. Yeah, like that’s gonna be believable.

So he’s trying not to but damnit it’s hard.

Then he walks into the kitchen one day to see Steve struggling with the toaster.

It’s one of Tony’s new prototypes—which means that anyone struggling with it is so fair—and from the looks of it, it’s managed to not only burn the bread to a crisp, but also mangle the slices beyond recognizable shape.

Peter’s not paying that much attention. He’s on his phone, heading towards his spot in the corner with the beanbag chairs and definitely doesn’t recognize Steve as he goes.

He only plops down and hears someone declare, in a completely deadpan voice: “There is no point to existing at all.”

“Oh, mood.”

He doesn’t think much of it. He doesn’t even know who said that, that’s how hyper-focused he is right now. He hears the others come in and feels Clint plonk down next to him.

“Hey, Pete.”

“Sah, dude.”

“Just vibing. Did I do it right?”

“Yeah, man you’re going great.”

“You teach Thor ‘yeet’ yet?”

“We’re getting there.”

“Steve,” he hears Tony call from the kitchen, “what the fuck did you do?”

“Language.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me about language when you’re making toast that looks like a goddamn welder’s table, what is that?”

“Your prototype’s work, I imagine.”

“How did you even—“

Clint chuckles next to him as the two of them start fondly bickering. Peter’s too busy speedrunning the five stages of grief in his head.

Did…did Steve say the thing about there being no point to existence at all?

No…no way.

He must be imagining things.

Then, of course, there’s a chime on his phone.

Ned: Did u do the bio hw?

There was bio homework?

Ned: yeah, due at noon

“I now know why God abandoned this timeline and when will death come to take me?”

The room goes silent.

Shit.

“Peter,” Clint says, “it’s gonna be fine, you can do bio homework in your sleep—“

“Are you okay?” Ah, that’s Thor.

“Kid—“

And Nat, and Tony’s probably rushing over here as he speaks.

Then there’s another voice.

“We can only pray the reaper arrives early for his appointment with us, kid.”

Peter’s head snaps up.

Steve.

Steve fucking Rogers raises a coffee cup at him in salute and takes a sip. He makes a face.

“…that was definitely salt,” he mutters, before shrugging and downing the whole thing.

…what?

Peter’s still staring at him until he catches his gaze and winks.

Oh, fuck yes.

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Tony says, hands on his hips, “explain.”

Steve just gives him a look. “I grew up in the Great Depression, Tony, and I was in the army. You don’t think I have a fatalistic sense of humor?”

“Plus the fact that most of my generation is resorting to types of humor found when death and stress are so ever-present that you have to joke about it says something,” Peter adds, “doesn’t it?”

Steve raises his cup again. “See? He gets it.”

And just like that, the bond between Peter Parker and Steve Rogers was written, formed, and sealed in salt and existentialist depression.

“There’s two of you,” Tony mumbles, “oh my god, there’s two of you.”

“Oh, you just wait ’til Buck and Sam get back.”

Peter can’t fucking wait.

[markberries]

a l l  i  w a n t ┊draco malfoy

anon requested: could you do a draco x reader imagine where it’s enemies to lovers but one day at a party draco gets drunk and confesses his feelings?

info: being tormented by draco was a normal thing for you, but one day everything changes when you find out his true thoughts.

warnings: blood, cursing

genre: slight angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, gryffindor!reader, fem reader

word count: 2700+

a/n: i decided to not make this a party scene because i feel like all my stories end up there, so it’s a little different. sorry if this ruined your request! also i stole hermione’s iconic scene lmao

you rarely hated anyone. most of the time, you enjoyed another person’s company. you enjoyed hearing them talk about things they were excited about, how they did on their recent exam, and you let them vent their sorrows to you. it was like getting a peak into another person’s life, you got to view how it felt like to be them.

so no, you did not really hate anyone, except for one bleach blonde snob with daddy’s credit card; draco malfoy. his cologne hurt your nose, it reminded you of axe body spray, back in the muggle world. he always used his “pureblood status” as a valid excuse to verbally assault those who did not carry the same reputation as him.

you convinced yourself that you did not care for him, or that you hated him, but something in the back of your mind had your eyes drifting to his smooth looking skin in the middle of a class, or the thought of how his hair looked extra soft. you were the type of person to dust those thoughts off and continue with your day, but that did not stop you from thinking about him any other day.

so you gripped your wand in your hand, pointed at draco, who had just insulted hermione for the sake of shits and giggles. he looked at you, as if he were waiting for you to strike, as if he knew that you weren’t going to do it.

“what do we have here? a halfblood? trying to harm me?” an irritating snicker emits from him and his two goons. a surge of anger powers through you, and you’re at a point where you want to spew hurtful words and cast menacing spells, but you knew where that would get you. it would get you a one way ticket out of hogwarts.

your face is beginning to heat up; not from embarrassment, but from annoyance. people passing by the courtyard paid no attention, they continued to talk loudly and ignore the commotion surrounding you five.

“what are you gonna do, huh?”

“y/n, i appreciate the help, but it’s better to ignore him,” hermione assures you, setting a hand gently on your shoulder. you should have listened to her. you wished you had listened to her.

in that spur of ignorance and rage, for you hated draco that much, you launched your fist into malfoy’s face, making him fall to the ground and hold his nose in pain.

you see a tad bit of blood coming out of his nose, and you swore you heard a crack when your fist met his face. now realizing your wrong doings, your eyes widen as professor mcgonagall comes marching towards the scene. 

“what on earth happened?” she asks, concerned while picking up malfoy off the ground, who was still groaning, it was a bit dramatic in your opinion. you didn’t know how to start explaining yourself — you couldn’t just say “he was pissing me off”. no, definitely not.

“he was saying hurtful and offensive things, not only towards me, but towards hermione as well,” you say, hoping that your punishment wouldn’t be too severe.

“it should not have resulted in violence, ms. y/l/n,” mcgonagall lectures you, now dragging draco towards the school entrance. “we will decide on the proper punishment after mr. malfoy recovers in the infirmary, for now, i think it’s best you think of an apology to give him, yes?”

with that, professor mcgonagall walks away with malfoy, crabbe and goyle following behind her. you sigh, facepalming.

hermione stood in front of you, asking, “why did you do that?” it was obvious that she was trying to stifle her own laughter, but you are the one who ends up giggling in amusement.

“i had to! it was malfoy!” you reply, making her let out a small laugh as well. you two began walking towards your next class together, meeting up with harry and ron in the hallways.

“you what!?” ron asks in disbelief, looking at you as you all walked together. “bloody hell, you know that draco’s father isn’t going to be happy about this.” 

“i know,” you reply, almost carelessly. 

“are you not worried?” ron questions again, you simply shrug in response. ron makes a face, like he was thinking of how worried he would be if lucius malfoy would treat him after he punched draco.

“always thought draco fancied you,” harry mutters as you all enter the defence against the dark arts classroom, and you nearly choke on your own saliva.

“i’m sorry?” you manage to get out, making harry look at you.

“oh you know, i thought everyone was thinking the same thing,” he tells you, and you cannot believe what you’re hearing.

“you must be mistaken,” you laugh awkwardly, sitting down at your desk, beside hermione.

“you two are always at each other’s throats, you claim to hate each other, i wouldn’t be surprised if malfoy liked you, if i have to be honest.”

setting your books down on the carved wooden table, you tap your fingers on the desk. you fell deep into thought, resting your head among your hand, propping yourself up. 

it would be unexpected — no, odd, yes, it would be quite odd if draco malfoy fancied you. although it was not believable nor confirmed, it still had you thinking. would it be strange to date draco? it couldn’t be that bad, right? you could see who he was. who he really was, not that tough, and might i add, annoying front that he put up, no — you would be able to discover the reality behind draco malfoy.

his fears, his dreams, his hopes — the possibilities were endless. there may be some obstacles, his father for example, but every relationship had obstacles.

you shake off your odd thoughts, reminding yourself that this was draco malfoy. the pureblood who insulted you everyday, the boy who thought he was better than everyone else, the boy you had just punched, for god’s sake.

finally, you are broken out of your own trance by professor lupin, tapping on your desk.

“yes, professor?” you ask, looking up at him. he offers you a warm smile, saying, “professor mcgonagall wishes your presence in the infirmary.”

oh shit.

—

“ah,” mcgonagall says when you walk through the door. “well then, i’ll leave you to it.”

you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, “i’m sorry? leave me to do what?”

“apologize. i’m sure you heard me tell you to make one, yes? although, we did have to cast a spell that makes mr. malfoy a bit disoriented so that we could repair his broken nose.” with that, the professor exits, leaving you with malfoy, who was laying in his bed, eyes boring into your own.

“i see you’re all fixed up, aren’t you?” you remark, glaring at him. he doesn’t respond, perhaps the spell’s side effects were the reason. after a pause, he begins to speak.

“mcgonagall said, you have to apologize.”

you didn’t want to apologize. who would want to? but you knew you had to, you didn’t want draco’s father to be on your ass for the rest of your hogwarts years. sitting down in the seat next to draco’s bed, you sigh to yourself.

“fine. i’m sorry, i guess.”

the room goes quiet; not an awkward silence, but a calm one. it washes over you unexpectedly, as you had never imagined what a calm silence would be like around draco malfoy. 

at this point, he’s still staring at your face. you’re trying your best to avoid his gaze, not wanting to look into his eyes. he smiles at you, drowsiness taking over him.

“you know, you’re quite pretty when you’re not bitching,” he says, but it seemed like he wasn’t directly saying it to you — it was as if he was talking to himself.

“what?” you say quietly, and draco turns to the side, the opposite direction of you.

“you heard me. i think you’re pretty.”

a million thoughts race through your mind, negative and positive. the only sound that you swore you could hear in the empty room was your own heartbeat, pounding out of your chest as you replayed malfoy’s words repeatedly in your head. before you could question malfoy longer, he was already fast asleep.

—

the next few days had you stumped. you forgot how to act around draco, you no longer made your smartass remarks, and he would constantly catch you glancing at him. after his odd confession, it was like something changed in you.

“what are you looking at, halfblood?” draco spits at you, you’re quick to look down at your feet and spew out an apology. draco, who was fully expecting you to throw some nasty words at him, was baffled. he had never seen you pass an opportunity to argue with him. yes, sometimes you would go quiet when you two fought, often when he took his insults too far; but not like this.

“cat got your tongue?” draco tried his best to provoke you, to get you to merely look at him, but you seemed far more interested in looking down at the ground. it irritated him, so he strutted up to you and grabbed your face with his left hand aggressively, earning a yelp from you. he lifted your chin swiftly, seeing a scared look on your face.

“look at me when i talk to you, halfblood,” he laughed, letting go of you. you still refused to speak, draco’s former words in the infirmary occupying all your thoughts. draco needed you to say something, anything.

“what are you? mute?” he carried on, heads turning at the scene unfolding before everyone in the courtyard, where you were previously holding a wand up to malfoy’s face. 

“leave me alone, draco,” you muttered, shoving him away. your voice wasn’t the same anymore. it was quiet, it almost sounded helpless, but not quite. as if you were unsure of what to do, or what to say.

when you pushed draco, he lost his own balance and landed straight on his arse, the ground making a light squish noise. giggles came from people passing by as draco stood back up, wet grass littering his robe.

he brushed himself off, before glaring back at you. “oh you’ll pay for that.”

“again, you two!?” a familiar voice shouted, once again, it had been professor mcgonagall. you were red with embarrassment, being caught fighting with draco once was a mistake, being caught twice was humiliating. both you and draco’s heads snapped to look at the upset professor.

“professor-” she cut you off, shaking her head in disappointment. “i’ve had enough of both of your shenanigans. both of you, detention.”

—

you had never gotten detention. then again, you also had never punched draco malfoy in the nose, nor have you ever considered dating him, so this week was full of unexpected events.

“this is your fault,” you hissed at draco, carefully reorganizing the books in the library. draco scoffed, flipping through pages of a random novel you had put aside to sort later. you had regained your sass from the shameful moment that you had been assigned to rearrange all the hardbacks and paperbacks hours ago.

“me? you’re the one who decided to send my ass to the ground,” he sneered, placing the book in the correct shelf, “or have you already forgotten about my broken nose?” draco added.

your cheeks began to heat up again, and you avoided malfoy’s gaze. you tried your best to shake off draco’s words,  but his flattering remark had not left your head since he said it.

“why do you keep doing that?” draco asked, and you froze. had he noticed?

“what do you mean, malfoy?”

“you keep doing that. i assume that you weren’t interested in arguing with me today, because most of the time, you never shut that big mouth of yours.”

“i’m never interested in arguing with you, malfoy,” you sighed, your back still facing him. you could feel his eyes burning into your backside, but you didn’t turn around. you didn’t want to turn around.

“not what i mean, halfblood. i’m saying you always have something to say.”

“okay, and i don’t see a problem here. i just didn’t have anything to say to you today.”

draco throws a book on the table next to you, forcing you to turn around to face him, annoyance written all over your face.

“today? don’t you mean the past few days? do you think i’m that dense?”

both of your voices had slighted raised a volume, but quiet enough so that professors wouldn’t come running in to check out the commotion.

“what is your problem malfoy? i just didn’t feel like arguing with you today. why are you acting like you’re offended or concerned?”

“i’m not. i just enjoy seeing how angry you can get when i call your little friend granger a mudblood.”

“don’t call her that.”

“so tell me then, halfblood. what changed? why are you so afraid to fight back?”

“you. you changed.”

the room went silent again. both you and draco stared at each other, a confused expression on his face, but a stoic one on yours. this wasn’t your ideal situation, you didn’t want to tell malfoy about what happened, and you weren’t going to, until now. 

you wished that draco hadn’t pushed, and you wished that draco stopped asking so many questions. you wished for a lot of things, but none came true. so many things were unplanned within your current state of affairs, like how you realized how attractive draco was, or how he always tried his best in classes, but he chose to play the “dumb rich boy”.

“you’re not making sense,” he said, taking a seat. you were fidgeting with your hands, looking at the ground. you were shifting your weight back and forth from your right foot to your left.

“you said something, when you were in the infirmary,” you rambled, looking back up at draco. he still had that same confused look on, and you were having second thoughts about this conversation, but it was too late.

“you called me pretty.”

it takes a moment for draco to process this — it’s like you can see what he’s thinking, judging from the flash of emotions on his face. first it’s embarrassment, the sudden pink tint rising as his eyes grow wide. next is a smile being held back, almost like he was thinking about how you might have reacted. lastly was deep thought, thinking about what to say next.

“well?” you ask, eagerly awaiting his response. you wished that he would yell and deny it, but like i said, you wished a lot of things.

“you are quite pretty.”

if draco had denied it, you would’ve continued living your life. you would have continued to argue with him and you would have continued to insult him whenever you got the chance. you wanted him to have said “you? you’re absolutely delusional”, so that you could cut off the thoughts about how much you wanted to feel draco’s hand on your own, go on dates with him, and rearrange his bland wardrobe.

that’s what you would have done if he denied it.

“i’m sorry?”

“odd, isn’t it? i thought it was a dream, truly i did. i thought i had made the entire thing in my head, i mean, i never expected you to ever apologize to me. guess i was wrong.”

you were dumbstruck, after all those offensive comments, after all those arguments and years of torment, draco malfoy had just admitted that he thought you were pretty.

“you’re lying,” you say.

“i’m not. you know what they say, bad attention is better than none at all, and you bet i wanted your attention.”

something he said made your heart swell, and you were staring into his eyes in awe. you smile, your eyes turning into crescents.

“malfoy,” you say.

“what is it, halfblood?”

“i want you to kiss me.”

draco stands up, walking towards you. bringing his lips to yours, your stomach explodes with butterflies as your hands wrap around his neck to bring him closer. you felt weightless, like you were floating. you expected his lips to be chapped, but they were quite soft, like your lips were on a cloud. there were no thoughts running through your head, it was like someone else had taken control over you.

when you two break apart for air, you rest your forehead on his, looking into his grey eyes. he was smirking, of course he was. you were smiling back at him, his hands wrapped around your waist.

“guess we have to go on a proper date other than detention then, am i right y/n?”

that was the first time he had ever used your real name instead of halfblood. finally, you realized, maybe draco wasn’t all that bad.

[zevlors-tail]

Retail Therapy

A/N: If you work retail like I do and get frustrated with your job on a weekly/daily basis, if you’re just fed up of all the crazy at work, this one’s for you! Covid has made it extra garbagey to work retail so here’s a little vent. Also, me writing soft Bakugou content? Yes.

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Shouto Todoroki

Warnings: Mentions of Covid in Bakugou’s part. Cursing. Customer invading your personal space (also in Bakugou’s part), tiny mention of anxiety in Todoroki’s scenario.

Summary: You’ve had the most infuriating day at work. Lucky for you, he knows just how to fix it.

Izuku Midoriya

Oh my god this gif is so bright i love it

“Hi baby!” Izuku greets you as you haphazardly toss your shoes on the floor, not caring where they land. One ends up under the dining room table and the other ends up somewhere among the chairs, but you could care less.

You’re pissed. More pissed than you’ve ever been, but specifically with work. You constantly feel like you’re babysitting your coworkers, and they never listen to anything you have to say, even when you’re put in charge of your department- if only for the night. Every time you turn your back, they’re pulling some sort of dumb stunt; how are you supposed to get work done like that? You can hardly focus on your own task when you’re trying to clean up after everyone else. Picking up slack is something you’re used to by now (unfortunately), but it shouldn’t have to be. You shouldn’t have to do your work and everyone else’s work too. Not to mention, you were tired of being the middle man whenever there was drama. Why did everyone feel the need to tell you everything?

“Ughhhh!” You just groan in response, half a smile on your face while a wild look enters your eyes. Izuku knows that look. He can tell you’re frustrated after a long day of work, that you’re at your wits end with your job. “I swear, Izu, I came this close to rage quitting. I mean I wouldn’t, because I’ve got bills to pay and stuff, but, just- this close.”

“Oh yeah?” He gives you a trademark smile despite your woes and invites you to follow him to the dining table where he sits down with you, taking your hand in his. “Tell me all about it.”

And you do. He listens diligently, nodding and getting into the gossip playfully, asking about certain coworkers and making silly comments to get you to laugh. Things like, “But they would never!” and “Oh my god, no they didn’t!” along with your personal favorite, a very dramatic “No!” He even makes over the top facial expressions to go with his comedic comments, and he has you laughing with him in no time, the stress of the day melting away under his electric green gaze. Your vent turns into more of a fun story than it does a bad experience. Izuku is a good listener and he’ll always be there for you.

“It was just ridiculous! Man, I can only take so much in one day. Usually I don’t let them get to me, but I couldn’t take both of them coming up to me every five minutes and complaining about each other. You know, as much as they like to talk about each other not doing their jobs, maybe they would get more work done if they just stopped talking and got back to work in the first place!” As you tell him your story, he hums a response, nods, and gets up from the table. He pats your head as he passes by you on the way to the kitchen, and you follow him with your gaze, questioning him silently.

“I’m still listening, love. I can hear you from here, promise! Do go on.”

You continue, not paying much mind to what he’s doing since you’re so engrossed in your tale of idiocy and annoyance turned silly. And he is listening to you, still making eye contact as he moves about the kitchen, still putting his two cents every once in a while. But before you know it, a savory smell hits your nose, and you realize he’s not only started dinner but that he’s practically finished with it by the time you’re done talking. He wastes no time in making two plates and bringing them over, setting one in front of you and the other in front of his usual spot.

You’re extremely grateful to him for taking the initiative to make dinner while you de-stressed after the day’s events, and you make sure to tell him that as you both dig in to his cooking. He learned from the best (bless mama Midoriya). You’re reminded that no matter how bad your day has been, you get to come home to your favorite human being on the whole planet and love him, and be loved by him in return.

“Thanks for making dinner, Izuku. You’re truly the love of my life.” You say it in such a manner that makes your partner laugh, bits of food falling from his mouth as he struggles to swallow properly. “That’s attractive,” you tease, but you’re laughing too. It’s a happy moment for the both of you.

“Good to know you only love me for my cooking!” He jokes. He eyes your plate before not so subtly reaching over and stealing a piece of food. You gasp in mock surprise, but save your revenge for later. There are plenty of ways to get even with him. But for now...

Izuku: 1

Y/N: 0

Katsuki Bakugou

soft bb

“Shit, fuck! God, I hate today!” you exclaim as you slam the car door shut. Bakugou had been kind enough to pick you up from work, and you were glad that it was him driving and not you behind the wheel. You were shaking in your seat, your hands trembling in anger and teeth grinding in frustration as you glared out of the window silently for a moment.

“Bad day?” Bakugou asked gruffly, foot gently pressing against the gas peddle as you took off on the drive home.

“Yeah, you would not fucking believe people. You’d think everyone would listen to directions and stay home since it’s like, oh, I don’t know- the middle of a fucking pandemic?”

“Oh, believe me, I know. People are stupid. Don’t let them get to you, baby.” 

Maybe those words were odd coming from him considering he used to be so angry all the time himself, but Bakugou had really mellowed out since his days at UA, and he knew how to hold his tongue. Unbeknownst to him, however, this was more than a bad day for you. Bad days you could let go of, but this- this was something else. Not quite the worst time you’d ever had at work, but much more than a bad day. Today had been somewhere in between the two, and you weren’t sure what to call it. You’d been yelled at, berated, understaffed, and blamed for pretty much all the problems going on in your specific area even though you were trying your best. There was only so much you could do yourself, and even though you knew it was better to just let it go, you couldn’t. Especially not after what that wretched customer had done to you.

“I’m trying not to, but it’s really god damned hard not to fucking smack a bitch when they invade your personal space and tap on your shoulder. In a fucking pandemic. Actually, I don’t even think she was wearing a mask now that I think about it. How considerate of her.” The words are like venom spitting from your mouth, your fists clenching as you vent to your partner in confidence.

“They did what?” Normally he’s good about keeping his anger in check. Normally, he could handle you venting to him about anything. But someone else touching his Y/N? No way in hell. And during a period of time where touching people was especially rude and inconsiderate? Fucking no way in hell.

“Yeah! Tapped me right on the damn shoulder and didn’t even say excuse me. Words exist! Just tell me you need something and I’ll get it for you! I hate people who do that shit, it’s so unnecessary and rude! And it violates my personal space and creeps me out. I feel disgusting. If you touch me at work, then I’m not liable for anything that happens to you! You get slapped? Then that’s on you, bitch! Don’t fucking touch me!” You finish up your speech with a wild hand gesture, your head shaking in disbelief while you try not to think about too much.

It takes Bakugou everything he has not to just slam on the breaks right then and there and put the car in reverse to drive back to the store and find that piece of trash. If he could give them a piece of his mind, he would. But he can’t, so he settles for the next best thing: comforting you and making sure you’re okay. You did just have your personal space violated after all, so it’s understandable you’re pretty shaken up and angry about the whole thing. He would be too, honestly. 

The rest of the short drive home is mostly silent, save for the small talk you make with each other and the quiet background noise of the radio station that he let you pick. His general rule of thumb is that the driver picks the music, but he knows you’ve had a hard day, so he doesn’t argue when you change it to your preferred station and start drumming your fingers to the beat. He’d rather you wind down this way than keeping it all bottled up. When the two of you finally arrive to your shared home, you let your shoulders fall a bit and sigh as you trudge to the couch, not even bothering to take your shoes off before plopping down and face planting into the soft cushions. You listen as Bakugou wanders off to the bedroom and returns a moment later with a shirt in his hands.

“You said you felt disgusting earlier, so I brought you a new shirt to change into. Figured you probably didn’t want to stay in your work clothes.” His tone is softer, a little more careful since you’re home now and he knows you don’t like to fall apart in public. Home is where your true heart is, with him. If you’re feeling any sort of negative emotion, it’s more likely to come out here. And he wants to offer his help, but... “Do you want some help with it?”

You shift so that you’re sitting up on the couch and raise your arms slightly for him. “That would be nice, since I’m utterly exhausted and worn out. I’d really appreciate it,” you reply honestly.

He hesitates a bit, unsure of something before he asks you a question. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Your response is immediate. “Of course it is; I trust you. I never mind your touch.”

He smiles at that.

He helps you get changed into the ultra comfy shirt he brought you, and after that the two of you heat up some leftovers before cuddling up in bed together, the worst of the day washed away by Bakugou’s soft fingers running along your side as you lay your head on his chest.

“Thanks for always taking care of me. You do an amazing job at it.” You yawn into his shirt and snuggle your face against it, the soft cotton making you feel safe and secure.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Katsuki.”

Shouto Todoroki

I’m feeling extra soft for Todoroki recently

“Hi, Y/N. How was your day at-” 

Before Shouto can even finish his sentence, you’re flying into a vent about work, passing right by him on your way to the bathroom as you start to pull of your work uniform angrily.

“Oh my god, it was an absolute disaster!” You’re still breathing heavy from all the stress, eyes darting around wildly and face flushed from being mad and under pressure all night.

“What happened, love?” Todoroki coaxes gently. He comes to stand in the door frame of the bathroom and leans against it, his hands in his pockets and hip cocked out to the side. He has a sympathetic look on his face as you explain all your troubles of the day.

“Everything, Shouto. Everything happened. I mean, not everything, but it sure felt like it! Our delivery showed up late, and we didn’t have product all afternoon, so our customers were really angry and I kept getting yelled at! It’s not my fault it showed up late! If I had the product to put out I would! It’s complete and utter bullshit!” You make your way to the bedroom to pick out pajamas, not really caring about the pair you take out of the drawer or anything else for that matter. Your mind was focused on one thing and one thing only: your day at work.

Sometimes you had a hard time winding down from work, especially on days like these, and Shouto knew that. You usually were able to separate work from home fairly well, but occasionally you just needed a little reminder that it didn’t have to follow you home to bed, and he knew how to help with that. He’d seen you like this before, had witnessed your break downs and freak outs over your job and the stress that came with it. Retail was not for everyone. Todoroki always told you that you had the patience of a saint, though everyone had their own limits, and you must have hit yours tonight.

“I don’t appreciate being called names and told that I’m practically useless. Customers can be real fucking snobs all the time. And I was trying so hard too, but even after the delivery showed up, it was busy as hell, and every time I put something up on the shelf they just kept taking it down! I think I sold through at least three boxes of something I normally have to throw away at the end of the week. Seriously! It was a mess, and we didn’t have enough staff because one of us was still suspended, and our normal person who works the backroom doesn’t work weekends, and even our supervisor called off, so it was just me and this other girl. It was awful. I can’t even- ugh! It’s not fair!”

You started to work yourself up, your anxiety skyrocketing as you thought of everything that went wrong earlier. Rationally you knew there wasn’t much you could do about the situation, but that didn’t mean you felt the same way. You should have done more, pushed yourself harder, but you also didn’t want to stay and work overtime on an empty stomach and not a lot of sleep the night before. Shouto must have seen the guilt in your eyes, because the next thing you knew you were being moved to the bed where he wrapped you in the softest blanket he could find, and then he was telling you he’d be right back as he slipped out of the room.

You sat there, a little confused for a while, before you heard a beeping noise from the kitchen and the door to the microwave open and close. Todoroki returned with a steaming mug in one hand and a book in the other, and he said nothing as he set the book and cup down on the nightstand before working around you, positioning a few pillows against the headboard of the bed. He fluffed them up a few times and grabbed the giant comforter, pulling it up over your lap and practically swaddling you. Finally he sat down behind you on the bed and pulled you into his lap, and you rested your head against his chest as he petted your hair softly. Slowly, you felt all the tension from earlier on in the day ebb away into drowsiness and exhaustion.

“Alright, blanket burrito,” he said, referring to your form all wrapped up in soft cotton, “I warmed up a cup of your favorite drink and brought us a book. Do you want me to read to you, or would you prefer to play a video game or movie?” He gazed down at you with a brow raised in question, a look of amusement on his face at the sight of your head just barely peeking out from the blankets.

“If you don’t mind, could you read to me? I like your voice...it’s soothing.” You melted into his touch, work already forgotten about and a wave of calm washing over you. 

“Of course, dear.” He gave you a precious smile and kiss on the top of your head.

Todoroki always knew how to fix your bad days, and he always did so without hesitation and without you having to ask. He handed you the warm mug first which you took gratefully, and then picked up the book and began reading to you.

How did you get this lucky?

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 3

Here is the next chapter! Yay! 

Words:5500

Warnings: mild swearing, possessive Ivar (maybe?), mild sexual tension, hint of violence

Series Masterlist

Tags: @youbloodymadgenius​

"Korítsi, one of these days I'll convince you to take a day off." (Greek: girl)

 Kari smiled as she re-tied her ponytail. Glancing over at her boss, she replied. "You would miss me too much. Besides you know I like working here."

 The woman shook her head. "You need a life outside of working- friends, a lover, anything besides this studio."

 "You just like listening to drama."

 "I'm happily married with my dream job; I need you ladies and your drama to keep me entertained. 

 Kari could only laugh along with her boss. Lydia Hansen was the best boss she could ever have asked for. The woman was in her mid-thirties, settled in life and always happy with a smile on her face and a kind word to share. She also had a mischievous side where she loved listening to the drama of her female workers, many coming to her for romantic advice or to vent about relationships. 

 Lydia leaned forward in her chair, putting an elbow on the desk beside her as she watched Kari. Even under the fluorescent lights, Kari thought the woman looked beautiful with her naturally tanned skin, short black hair and strong Mediterranean features. Kari could not help feeling like a used ragdoll next to her. 

"Why don't you come in at nine tomorrow morning, I can open the studio."

 Kari turned around after grabbing her purse from her locker. "Tonight is date night for you and Nels, which means several glasses of wine and you naked in your bed. If your stories are to be believed. So I'm guessing you don't want to be here at six-thirty tomorrow morning. Really, it's fine. I don't mind opening. I do it often enough."

 "And that's the problem. You've opened the majority of the time the past two weeks."

 "It's only until Sasha comes back from her family's funeral." Kari reminded her. 

 "Fine." Lydia huffed, then pointed a finger at her. "Then you're taking time off. I'll bar you from coming to work if you try to sneak in."

 "What if I want to come for classes?"

 "No. I'll kick you out of my studio. Do your yoga at home. By the skies above, you are a yoga instructor yourself. Just pretend to be teaching but alone….and at home!"

 The brunette smiled at her boss, knowing all of this was because Lydia actually cared for her employees. Both their physical and mental health. "No promises. Tell Nels 'hi' for me. See you tomorrow."

 "Go do something fun for once!" 

 Kari walked out of the office, chuckling. She waved to a coworker as she passed the front entrance before stepping outside into the late afternoon sun. Checking the time on her phone, she tossed it into her teal hobo bag and slung it over her shoulder, making her way towards the bus stop. In her black leggings, sneakers and purple racerback tank top with Whole Wellness Yoga Studio printed on the front, she could not help but feel slightly out of place as she walked the streets. Though no one gave her a second glance, she always felt like a fraud as she passed others by. The location of the yoga studio she worked at was certainly in the more affluent part of the city, and it showed by the manner of businesses in proximity and the looks and clothing of those who passed her by. 

 At one time she had worn expensive clothing, never paying attention to price tags, but those days were in the past. Although she adored working at the yoga studio, it barely made ends meet. Lydia mentioned once promoting her in the future to a manager, which came as a surprise since Kari had only been working there for just over a year. For now though, she was content with life. Happier than she had been in a long time. Even if her life seemed boring to others, only focusing on work and what the next book or TV series to enjoy was. It was her life, her choices. 

 For a brief second, she paused in her walk, thinking she had heard someone call her name. Which was highly unlikely since, truthfully, she hardly knew anyone in this city. With a mental shrug, she continued on, enjoying the feeling of the sunshine on her exposed skin. 

 "Kari Larsen! Don't you ignore me!" 

 The sudden scream made the brunette freeze in place, stunned and slightly terrified. Hesitantly, she turned, scanning around to see who had yelled for her attention. Luckily, it did not take long to notice the tall, blonde wearing the thigh-high boots and white, boho dress waving like a mad woman as she leaned over the short half-railing, separating the sidewalk and the restaurant's seating. 

 Smiling, Kari made her way back towards the woman, who beamed at her. "Gyda! When did you get back?"

 "Just yesterday. I know I say this every time but jetlag is a bitch." Gyda sighed dramatically, though her eyes twinkled in mirth. Leaning against the half-railing, she towered over Kari. On a good day, she stood just under six feet but with the short-heeled boots today, she peered down like a goddess from Valhalla surveying the lesser mortals. 

 "I don't know how you do it." Kari shook her head, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. 

 "Eh, you make it work." Gyda turned and peeked over her shoulder for a second before looking back at Kari. "What are you doing? Just get off work?"

 "Yeah. Heading home."

 "Do you want a ride?" She offered, tapping a finger along the railing. 

 Kari could feel the stares of the other patrons sitting outside and the wait staff, most likely wondering why someone like her was conversing with Gyda. Awkwardly, she toyed with her trusty diamond stud in her earlobe. "Not this time, but thank you. I'm sure you want to get back to your friends." 

 "It's just some of my many siblings and Torvi."

 "Oh, you'll have to tell her I said 'hi'."

 Gyda was a regular at the yoga studio when her schedule allowed. As a freelance writer, her schedule was chaotic at the best for time. Lately most of her works had been commissioned for traveling magazines, so her time coming to the studio was sporadic based on when she was in the country. It was through the studio that Gyda and Kari met. They would occasionally exchange pleasantries before or after Kari's class or in passing. Their friendship solidified only after Gyda found Kari standing at the bus stop in the cold rain months ago and offered to give her a ride home. They had met up a handful of times so Kari could hear all about the latest places Gyda visited and see the pictures she took, satisfying her own travel-wandering soul, sealing their friendship. 

 And through Gyda, Kari met Torvi. Though both women were at least ten years her senior, she enjoyed their presence and conversations. Torvi only came occasionally with Gyda as her guest to the yoga studio. At first, Kari was surprised when she learned they were sisters-in-law because of how close they seemed. Yet she found it refreshing, since most of her experience with family was tense to say the least. It was nice to know her own family's tendencies were not the norm. 

 "I will." The blonde exclaimed, her smile widening. "Oh! Do you want to meet Bjorn? I know you've heard Torvi and I talk about him enough that it's funny you haven't met him yet."

 "Oh, I'd hate to interrupt…."

 "Shut up. You're meeting him. Come on, I'll let you in through the main door, meet me over there." Then she spun on her heel and sashayed away, garnering a few lingering looks from nearby patrons. 

 If there was one thing Kari learned over the past several months of knowing Gyda, it was that the woman was head-strong and always got her way. So with an amused roll of her eyes, Kari headed around the restaurant to its main entrance just off the side of the busy sidewalk. The restaurant screamed money and prestige, something Kari learned both Gyda and Torvi had in spades. It was unnerving at first but their welcoming and kind presences help alleviate Kari's fears of being viewed as less. 

 Sure enough, Gyda stood waiting for her by the door. Chatting like a bird, she slipped her arm through Kari's and led her past the shocked waitstaff. The restaurant was even more impressive inside than how it appeared from the street. It was modern with a sharp black and white color scheme, tasteful and exquisite photos on the walls, and dark wood tables and chairs. Kari figured the price of a meal here was similar in cost to her monthly rent. 

 Gyda led her to a table that was outside in the sun, but partitioned from the street by the half-wall railing she had leaned over earlier to get Kari's attention. The brunette quickly counted five people already sitting there, apparently carrying on a lively conversation if the laughter meant anything. Before she could get a good look, Gyda directed her towards Torvi who reclined next to a man with an imposing physique and a long, blond, braided ponytail in a smart suit. 

 "Kari, this is my brother and Torvi's husband, Bjorn."

 "It's a pleasure to meet you." Kari smiled politely, taking his outstretched hand in a handshake. 

 "Likewise. So, you are the famous yoga instructor these two go on about?" He asked, with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes. "I must confess, I find yoga a peculiar activity but with it helping Torvi's flexibility while we…."

 Torvi smacked his shoulder, making the men around the table laugh. "Ignore him, Kari. I don't know why I bring him out in public."

 "Hey!" He pulled her closer and planted a loud kiss on her cheek. "You love me."

 "Mmm…. most days."

 At that point, Kari looked up to peek at the others sitting at the table, ready to greet and then head out. Except the first thing she saw was a pair of stunning blue eyes that captured her gaze. Unable to move or look away, as if he was physically restraining her with only his gaze, her heart soared and stomach dropped simultaneously. 

 It was only when Gyda started to introduce the others at the table that she ripped her gaze from his, all the while feeling his eyes never leaving her. 

 "Let me introduce these other assholes quick. At the head of the table is Uncle Floki, and the two idiots across from us are Bjorn and my half-brothers, Hvitserk and Ivar."

 Hvitserk greeted her with a flirty smile on his boyish face; while the strange-looking man, Floki, just gave a single nod in acknowledgement.  

 "We've already met," Ivar said with a wicked smirk, letting his eyes blatantly trail over her form while he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, "isn't that right, kitten?"

 Kari hated how just from the sound of the pet name, her heart beat increased traitorously and a flush rose to her cheeks. It brought to mind how his hands gripped her hips, caging her to him, how his lips and tongue caressed her skin, the peak of pleasure that crashed over her without warning...and about all the ice cubes and make up she had to use to get conceal the marks and hickeys he decorated her skin with. "Um, yeah, sort of. I…. I didn't catch your name though."

 "It's alright. I can't blame you as we were otherwise…. preoccupied." The blue-eyed devil teased, either uncaring or not noticing the inquisitive looks from the others at the table. It was unfair how striking he looked in a simple black t-shirt, showcasing his broad shoulders and muscular arms that were award-worthy. 

 Mortification was the best description of emotion causing Kari to further flush but also avert her gaze to the food-laden table. For some reason she figured the likelihood of her ever meeting Ivar again was slim to none. Clearly they ran in different social circles and really they had no reason to bump into one another. Apparently universe, fate, whatever decided her life was going too well and decided to throw a curveball at her. Then to make matters worse, here he sat arrogantly and alluding to what occurred between them in front of his family. 

 It had not gone unnoticed by her that Gyda mentioned Ivar was her half-brother, making her a Lothbrok too, even if she did not go by that last name. 

 Kari peered around the table, a polite smile on her face in a poor attempt to mask any further revealing thoughts. "Well, it was lovely to meet you all but I need to be going." 

 "You sure you don't want a ride?" Gyda kindly offered again, already reaching over to grab her own purse. "It's not a problem." 

 "No, stay. The bus should be here in a couple minutes. Your food is getting cold."

 Gyda opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to reconsider and instead gave her a quick embrace. "Ok, I'll stop by the studio this week and we can catch up."

 "I'll hold you to that." Kari returned the hug; her body tingled as if bugs crawled all over skin making her want to flee the restaurant even faster. With a hurried "goodbye" to everyone else, trying to avoid Ivar's penetrating gaze, she headed out of the restaurant. With the looks she received from the waitstaff and patrons, she quickened her pace, feeling like an intruder in the lavish establishment. 

 Soon as she stepped outside, back onto the busy sidewalk and warm sun, she inhaled a deep breath. A part of her felt awful for how quickly she ditched Gyda, who had only ever been kind to her. Truthfully, she had wanted to meet Bjorn because of the stories both Gyda and Torvi shared. 

 All of that had been eclipsed by the sight of the man she had made-out with over a week ago in that dark club…. Ivar Lothbrok.  

 Never aloud would she admit how often she thought about him since their encounter. Yet she knew it was best to stay away from him, ever if a part of her fought the notion. It would be safer, for both of them. 

 Now suddenly coming face-to-face with him, her emotions warred within her as to how she should feel. 

 Her feet hurried along the sidewalk, worried she would miss her bus because of her detour in the restaurant….and maybe a piece of her needed to put distance between herself and the handsome, cocky man that plagued her thoughts. At the crosswalk, she practically bounced on her toes, willing the light to change color faster. Her mind whirled with the new information of Gyda's relations. Could they still be friends? It also answered her unspoken question of where the wealth came from that Gyda and Torvi were accustomed too. The Lothbroks may not be a household name but it was certainly known in the business world, especially since the many sons had stepped up and expanded its empire. 

 Without warning, a firm hand grabbed her upper arm, whipping her around. A shriek stuck on the tip of her tongue at the unexpected action. She turned to be greeted by a stunned pair of eyes and open mouth. 

 "Oh, I'm so sorry, I thought you were someone else." The flustered man said, retracting his hand from her and rubbing his beard with it self-consciously. "No wonder you didn't answer when I called…. I thought you were ignoring me. Are you OK? I'm so sorry again. "

 She placed a hand over her chest, heart hammering almost painfully. The man appeared so concerned about scaring her, it was endearing. "It's fine. You just startled me, I guess I was thinking too hard."

 He shuffled his feet for a moment, looking down at them before looking up again. "I'm Daniel, by the way."

 "Kari."

 "You headed, ah, to the bus stop too?"

 A genuine smile touched her lips as he sided up next to her amongst the crowd of others waiting to cross the street. "Yeah, actually. Just got off work."

 "Hey! What a coincidence. I plan on going home, eating whatever is in my fridge that doesn't have mold on it yet and sitting on the couch watching TV for at least the next three hours."

 "That sounds amazing. I may have to steal that idea."

 He turned to face her, placing his hand on her shoulder, and stared at her in mock seriousness that made her giggle. "I give you full permission, no need for thievery. And don't eat something healthy, it's a perfect night for gluttony."

 Before she could respond with her own quip, someone grabbed Daniel from behind, throwing him to the ground. Bystanders barely made it out of the way as Daniel just caught himself on his hands and knees. 

 "GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF HER!"

 Kari stared in horror as Ivar loomed over Daniel, fists clenched and eyes blazing. Everyone nearby drew back, creating a wide circle and warily watching the fight that was threatening to happen. 

 "Ivar, stop!" Kari tried to move between the two men but he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back behind him effortlessly. 

 Daniel hesitantly got up, scraped hands held up in surrender. "Sorry, man. I swear I wasn't trying to make a pass on your girl. Just making conversation."

 "Sure. Now fuck off and don't let me fucking see you around her again." He seethed; the words spat out from between clenched teeth. 

 Eyeing Ivar as if he expected the man to suddenly attack him again, Daniel started walking away in the opposite direction, casting occasional glances over his shoulder. 

 At this point the light for the crosswalk turned green and those bystanders waiting began to move, all the while still leaving a wide berth around Ivar and Kari. Though she tried to ignore them, she could not help but catch a few looks of concern and pity directed towards her. 

 Pulling away from the arm still around her waist, Kari made to cross the street when Ivar grabbed her wrist. 

 "Where are you going?" He demanded, lingering fury coloring his tone.

 "My bus is just up there. I need to go or I'll miss it."

 "No, I'm giving you a ride home."

 "What? No, I don't need…. I told Gyda it's fine."

 He scoffed, relinquishing his hold on her wrist. "I'm not doing this for Gyda, now come on."

 "No, really, I…."

 "It wasn't a suggestion."

 Equal parts dumbfounded and angry, she looked back up the street only to see the doors of the bus closing. She closed her eyes for a second, begging for patience and understanding. What she really wanted to do was ignore Ivar and walk away, find somewhere to wait for the next bus. But if Ivar had followed her from the restaurant and was now demanding he give her a ride home, she figured he would not be beyond dragging her over to his car, or whatever he rode in, and continuing to make a scene. It made no sense why he would follow her to offer a ride or attack a random man. She wondered if this was the Ivar Lothbrok that her friends warned her about. 

 Deep down, she found herself still wanting to be around him again. To see if the man she met at the club was the real him or just a mask…. plus, she hated to wait for the next bus. There was a creepy lady that liked to sit next to her and tell her about the latest escapades of her many gerbils or the newest “friend” her adult son brought home for the night. 

 "Fine." She stated, turning back to him. 

 "Good girl. This way."

 Silently, she followed him back towards the restaurant and down the next street to a luxury Mercedes car. In her mind, she decided that just because she was getting a ride from him did not mean she had to be friendly. Her plan was to ignore him and stare out the window. Hopefully that was enough of a hint to leave her alone. He was the one who chased her down to give her a ride. His infuriating actions may have spurred her pettiness to supersede the wisdom of ignoring him, especially knowing he was a Lothbrok. 

 The driver held the door open for both of them to slide in. The bench seat was spacious with a detailed leather interior and that unique new card smell. Another time, Kari may have loved to ride around in a vehicle like this, pretending to be a celebrity or someone important. Now she just wanted to get home. Even if that traitorous part silently ogled him, an arm’s length away from her. 

 "Where to, sir?" The driver asked once he took his seat in the front. 

 Then with an arrogant smirk, Ivar rattled off Kari's address. 

 Kari's plans to ignore him flew out the window. She stared open-mouthed as he leaned back in the seat, brace-covered legs spread out obnoxiously. The first real trickle of fear since meeting him danced up her spine. 

 "How? I mean…. are you…. stalking me?"

 He laughed, cocking his head to the side, to eye her lazily. "You're harder to track down than most people. No social media really. Pay most things with cash. It's like you're trying to hide something."

 She gulped, the revelation he could find out all that about her so easily was unnerving. But his last statement hit a little too close to the truth to bring her comfort. 

 "But it wasn't too difficult." He added brazenly, apparently ignorant of the anxiety his prior statement caused. "And now I found you." 

 "Why? I mean… why were you looking for me?"

 He stared at her, those predatory eyes prying into her soul. She shifted awkwardly, wishing to be free from his gaze but unable to tear herself away on her own accord. Caught in his trap, his web, all she could hope for was mercy. Unconsciously, her eyes drifted down to view his lips, the memory of them against hers at the forefront of her mind…. even more than the anxiety still skating on her nerves. 

 In an instant, he reached over and hauled her across the bench seat and into his lap. A squeak flew from her as she abruptly found herself sitting sideways on his legs. 

 As her mind raced to figure out what to do, and honestly how to feel about this, his lips descended on hers and all prior thoughts vanished. His tongue invaded her mouth, forcing hers to comply, demanding attention. Without hesitation, she gave in. Her hands traced his sideburns and the braids on the top of his head. No matter how many times she tried to forget his touch, his kisses, it haunted her. Now having his lips on hers once again, she found even her memories were incomparable to the actual feel, of his lips, his hands, his breath, his body, his scent. It all drew her in like a beacon, directing her to her greatest desire and darkest temptation. 

 "All I can think about is you." He murmured, his tongue tracing her bottom lip. "Fuck…. how good you taste, how good you feel…. I could barely focus on work."

 "Ivar…" she moaned, feeling herself melting under his touch. As he pressed kisses along her jawline, a quiver ran through her but instead of feeling ashamed like before, she tilted her head to expose more of her neck. Normally so reserved with physical touch, for some unexplainable reason, she felt safe enough to embrace her wanton side with him. Somehow, she knew he would not make fun of her actions. Perhaps it was because of his reaction when finding out her virginal status. All she knew was his touch, his very presence, drew forth a side of her previously unknown while making her feel safe. 

 His hands gripped her with an almost possessive hold. "Gods, I want you." He groaned against her pulse point, the sound wicked with the sheer desire infused in it. 

 And for some reason, those three words broke the spell holding her hostage to him. 

 She froze. Slowly she leaned back to stare at him. The truth, the confession, tasted like poison on the tip of her tongue. 

 "I…. I can't." She whispered, hating how weak her voice sounded. 

 "What are you talking about?"

 "I won't…. I'm not having sex with you."

 What lust and tenderness towards her vanished in the blink of an eye. His hands that had been caressing, now gripped painfully. Eyes that beheld her as a goddess, now threatened to cut her without remorse. The very air between them threatened to catch fire with a single spark due to the tension. 

 "Why not? Cause I'm a cripple?" He snarled at her like an enraged animal. "You'll kiss me and let me get you off but you won't fuck me? Or did your friends tell you who I am? Is that it? Now that you know who I am, you're going to run away?"

 "No, it's not… no, I don't think I'm the kind of girl you'd want." Tears welled in her eyes, both from fear and the physical pain he was causing with his forceful grip. 

 "And what the fuck does that mean? You know me so well, huh?"

 That poisonous truth dripped off her tongue once again. How could she tell him that if he truly knew who she was, he would reject her? It was not even a question but a fact. It was better for both of them to stay away, to never see one another again. How twisted was her truth, how deceptive was she in the face of a man known for his violence. Even as her innermost being begged to let go of her past self and embrace this…. embrace him.  

 "I'm nobody. I'm boring. I don't have money or influence. I just am…. You'd get tired of me in like two days." She took a steadying breath, her hands fiddling in her lap as to avoid his piercing gaze. The lilac color on her nails was starting to chip at the edges, redirecting her attention for a brief second. Even if all she wanted to do was run, avoid this conversation like the plague, she knew in a way, she owed him the truth. Her next words came out in a rush, otherwise she knew they would never pass her lips. "And I don't want to have sex until I'm ready and with someone who cares about me."

 She wondered if this was the spark to set him off. How quickly he would reject her, push her off his lap, laugh in her face for her orthodox ideal, call her frigid like others before. Mentally, she prepared for it, even if every time the words were still a dagger to her heart. This time would be no different. 

 What she did not expect was after almost a minute of painful silence, for him to gently grip her chin and turn her head to face him once again. 

 "Go on a date with me."

 She balked. "What?"

 He stroked her cheek, his hand that had been gripping her thigh, most likely leaving vivid bruises, now created soothing circles. It was his voice that shocked her the most. What had been harsh and unrelenting in cruelty now was soft and gentle. "Let me take you out. I'll even follow your damn rule of no sex. Though I know you want me just as much."

 "Ivar…."

 "You can't deny it." He taunted, with a devilish grin, "You like the idea of me touching you, bringing you pleasure, showing you what you've been missing with my fingers," teasingly, he glided his fingers along her inner thigh, close to her core, "and my tongue," he licked the shell of her ear before whispering the next part, "and my cock. Tell me you haven't thought about it."

 Her breath hitched with each movement of his, his filthy words making her wet without her conscious approval and the cocky bastard knew it. "I…. please stop…." She tried to plead, only to make him laugh. 

 "Stop lying to both of us."

 "Please, don't do this. I just can't."

 "Why not?" Jaw tense, he regarded her with a look of pure hunger but also exasperation. "Give me a damn good reason."

 "It's better if we don't."

 He leaned back fully in his seat as if examining her. That devious and deadly gaze pinned her, reading her very thoughts and secrets. Beneath it she felt vulnerable and naked, something she detested. She tried to squirm out of his lap, to put necessary distance between them. His hands only tightened on her, keeping her restrained in his lap. 

 "It's not…" he started then stopped to lick his lips. And there it was, a glimpse behind the mask, that vulnerability she caught a peek of when they were at the club, "...because I'm a cripple?"

 "What? No, not at all. That doesn't…. no, you're beautiful." Soon as the last word left her mouth, her absolute shock at his question morphed into humiliation. Both of her hands flew up to cover her face, burning with embarrassment.

 "Beautiful, huh?"

 "Shut up."

 He chuckled, running his nose along the column of her neck and sending a shiver down her spine. "And you still won't go on a date with me?"

 Cautiously, she eased her hands from her face to meet his amused gaze. "I'm sorry." She replied with a shake of her head. 

 He eyed her as if trying to suss out more of her secrets, head tilted to the side and eyebrows furrowed slightly. After a long moment, he smirked. "Alright. We'll see about that."

 "What?"

 "You heard me. You'll change your mind eventually. I can be very persistent with something I want."

 With a push of a button on a nearby console, loud music filled the air but he did not release her. Instead, he continued to stroke her back or legs as he gazed out the window. Every time she tried to squirm out of lap, he would tighten his grip on her hip or thigh, silently demanding she remain. Finally, she gave up and relaxed against him, enjoying his soothing touches and the warmth of his body. 

 Ivar Lothbrok was the most complicated man she had ever met. Just in the past hour, she witnessed him go from cocky to murderous to sensual and now dare she even say…. charming. It baffled her that he purposefully sought her out, even if it was stalker-ish. That he wanted to go on a date with her, knowing she would not put out at the end for him. Her image of him and the one painted by her friends were so vastly different…. she wondered which one to believe. Not that it truly mattered, since they would not be seeing each other after this. She could not open that door. It was better this way. 

 She was disheartened when they reached her home. The way their bodies fit perfectly together, how comforting his touch and presence was, it was unnerving and intriguing. A small part of her wished the drive was longer so they could continue remaining in this bubble of illusion. That she could soak this feeling up just a bit more, for something to hold onto when she was alone. How life could have been between them if fate was different. 

 The driver pulled up the luxury car in front of the unoccupied, short driveway. With no car there, that meant her roommate was not at the townhouse. Probably for the best, since if Alana had seen Kari getting out of a vehicle with Ivar, she would have lost her shit. 

 "Come on… tonight." He whispered into her ear, entwining their fingers, those exquisite eyes begging for her to change her mind. "Let me take you out, kitten."

 "I can't…. but we can be friends... if you want." 

 Soon as the words left her mouth, she cringed. What kind of stupid thing was that to say? She needed to stay away from him, she knew it. But seeing that last hopeful gleam in his eyes and the despair that replaced it as she told him 'no' once again…. it was too much. 

 A cocky smirk slowly spread on his lips, like he knew something that she was not privy to. He laid a kiss on the back of their entwined hands. "If you say so."

 Carefully, he helped maneuver her off his lap, and out of the vehicle, his hands grazing over her hips and thighs quickly. She turned around and raised an eyebrow, for him to only stare at her in an innocent expression. Instead of being upset, like she should have been, she just rolled her eyes and unsuccessfully tried to keep the smile off her lips. 

 "Um, thanks for the ride." 

 "Yeah. See you soon…. friend." With a teasing wink, he closed the door and a second later, the vehicle pulled away. 

 She watched the car drive away and wondered why the word 'friend' left a sour taste in her mouth. 

[xwitchyfishx]

I have to get surgery in less than a day and I'm so fucking nervous. All because of a lymph node that decided to get inflamed 6 months ago. I don't know how long it's going to take to heal, if something is going to go wrong, etc. My brain has been running a mile a minute trying to think of every possibility of what COULD happen instead of focusing on the positive that this will finally be gone. I hate not knowing the future sometimes. I've been in 100% panic mode ever since I first got the ultrasound and even though the tears have lessened, the feeling of dread has remained the same. I'm glad that I have my support system around me to help me through this but I feel guilty relying on them the way that I have been. They keep telling me, "this is scary of course you're going to be nervous, you're not being dramatic your feelings are valid." I hear them but I still feel awful...it's hard not to focus on the negative and all the things that have been swimming through my brain. My plan of ignoring it until it was over hasn't worked very well, it only lasted a couple of days at the most.

With all of this and then some going on it's made it clear how long I've truly been neglecting myself. I spent all that time and energy helping other people get better that I denied myself that same energy in return. Most of the ones that I helped never reciprocated that back to me and I allowed them to stay in my life regardless. I'm learning now that I won't survive if I keep repeating the same patterns over and over again. That's doing myself a disservice and I come first above everyone else. That doesn't mean I can't remain compassionate and caring to the people I choose to be, it means that I don't have to basically kill myself in the process and that my needs should take prevalence over theirs. I can't always bend my boundaries for the comfort of other people. I can't always put myself in positions that would compromise myself just so someone will possibly stay in my life. Working through my abandonment issues has been the biggest bitch of them all and I'm truly exhausted. But this will be the work for the rest of my life. The healing and growing is never going to end. I just hope that it gets easier as I go along.

I know this post is going to go unnoticed but this is mostly for me to look back on in the future when I'm better and there's more pieces put together. I needed a place to vent out the frustrations while sitting here. I can honestly say that my biggest supporter through this has been my boyfriend, who has shown up time and time again even when I thought he would be exhausted by the never ending rollercoaster that is my emotional state. He's so patient and kind, knowing just what I need without me having to say anything. In the 6 months that we've been together he has healed wounds that he didn't make and continues to do so every day. I appreciate him so much, and part of me doesn't quite know how to react to this type of love. He's sitting right next to me working on my siblings computer for them while we watch Kitchen Nightmares one of our favorite shows. Coexisting in perfect harmony.

Despite everything, this is what peace must feel like. This is what healing must feel like. This is what love must feel like.

I look forward to whatever else the universe may bring, and am ready for the curve balls it decides to throw my way to even the playing field.

But first...I need to make it through a surgery.

~Fish