#not gonna tag all the chars cause. that's a lot

[aroaceleovaldez]

figured i'd share my WIP - yknow how I keep talking about "finding the limit of how many PJO ocs one person can have" and coming up with names/divine ancestors/etc? haha. yeah. behold my romans.

This is my project to create & make references for every Roman in the legion, including filling in blanks in the cohorts. For askblog purposes, because I like consistency. And I think it's fun and makes it more interesting. Yes there is a CHB counterpart to this that is done.

I still need to make more refs - all of the labeled chars here are canon. The rest I made up. This is 5th cohort (purposefully smaller than the other cohorts) through half of 3rd (both are about 30 each since the max per cohort is 40). I also have some misc romans not included here and still need to make references for the rest of the legion & messengers/healers which I have decided is a separate category.

These all will eventually be going on my wiki for my askblog, including the other cohorts once I finish those. Yes you may ask about any of these chars, they do all have names/divine ancestors/lore/etc. I'm having fun I promise.

[rebelwrites]

First Christmas with Mr Leclerc???? Like maybe you start a tradition with him and he's just so in love and can't believe you want to spend the holidays with him 😍

Can We Go See Santa?

Charles Leclerc x Reader

As this is a flash fic it hasn’t been edited

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

The arrivals area of the airport was practically bursting at the seams, everywhere you looked there were multiple bodies darting around the large room. Everyone was in their own world, hunting for their bags and family, ready to start the festivities that would follow over the next couple of days.

Reaching up you tugged the hood of your boyfriend's hoodie further over your cap before making sure your three year old’s hood was still covering her face, she was fast asleep in your arms, soft snores escaping her lips every so often, the flight completely wiped her out and honestly you were happy about that. For the past couple of days she had been a little terror, but in all fairness it was all due to excitement of getting to see her ‘Char Char’ again. Over the last couple of months fans had started to raise their suspicions about you and the monegasque driver. He had started soft launching you on his social media and you knew that one day the world would have to know you two were dating. But your main concern was your daughter, she was too young to understand what was going on, all she knew was the love she held for Mummy’s boyfriend.

Somehow you managed to spot Arthur amongst the crowd, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the youngest Leclerc, his disguise was shocking and he was lucky to now get trampled in the busy airport. Shaking the thoughts out of your mind you slowly pushed your way through the crowded room. Dropping your gaze you realized that Arthur had grabbed your suitcases meaning that your escape was going to be quick and hopefully uneventful.

“Comment s'est déroulé le vol ? How was the flight?” The youngest Lecerc beamed, reaching out to take Alice from you. The movement caused her to stir, pulling her tiny fists to her eyes, the moment she realized it was Arthur holding her it was like someone had flipped a switch and she was wide awake.

“Arta,” she giggled, placing her hand on his cheek. She had always struggled to pronounce his name but he really didn’t care.

“Hi, my sweet girl,” he hummed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s get the two of you back home, Maman is so excited to see you.”

The journey back to his car was relatively quick, he had managed to secure a really good parking space right near the main doors. The moment he opened the back door of the car my heart melted when I saw the brand new car seat secured onto the back seat of Pascales’ car. “Maman wanted her little bear to be safe, and she said she had a feeling you would be spending a lot more time in Monaco.” Arthur chuckled, looking over his shoulder flashing me a warm smile.

“Let’s not rush,” you hummed, slowly pushing the hood of Charles’ hoodie down before climbing into the front seat of the car, “We haven’t been together for a year yet.”

“Yet I have never seen my brother so happy,” he grinned, double checking the seatbelt was secured before he quickly made his way to the driver's seat. “God, he is gonna be so happy to see you.”

Nothing could wipe the smile off your face as Arthur backed out of the parking space, making his way towards the exit of the car park. “I’m honestly surprised how we have all managed to keep this a secret,” you hummed, resting your head against the window of the car. The sounds of giggles from the back seat filling the small space, “especially Alice, she's been so excited to see you all.”

The journey from the airport didn’t take long and the moment you stepped foot into the Leclerc household you were pounced on by Pascale. “Oh my dear, it is so good to see you,” she beamed, practically crushing your ribs with how tight she was hugging you. “Char will be home within the next ten minutes.”

Your heart started racing at the thought of him walking through the door with no knowledge you were here. You couldn’t wait to see him, this would be your first Christmas together and hopefully the first of many.

Charles abruptly came into your life one rainy day in the UK, to this day you still felt some embarrassment from the day you met. Alice was two and she decided it was a good idea to run away from you in a busy park. She went sprinting across the field, she had spotted Charles before you had, screaming his name before barging into him causing him to spill his iced coffee down himself. But instead of being angry he smiled softly at my daughter before chasing after her causing her giggles to echo around the park.

Pushing the memory to the back of your mind, you followed Pascale into the kitchen, taking a seat at the kitchen table whilst Arthur chased Alice around the house. You found myself fumbling with the sleeves of Charles’ hoodie. You had never done anything like this before so my hands were starting to get clammy, what if he didn’t want you here? What if you had made a mistake? Was it too soon to be spending Christmas with him and his family?

Because your mind was spinning you didn’t notice the man you were worrying about was currently standing in the doorway. Taking a deep breath you finally looked up when you heard someone cough from across the room. The corners of your lips tugged into a wide smile as you let your gaze scan over your man leaning against the door frame. His green eyes glistened with happiness as he saw you sitting at the kitchen table.

“Hi,” you breathed, slowly pushing yourself to your feet.

Charles couldn’t believe what he was seeing, he had no idea you were coming to Monaco but he was happy to see you standing in the kitchen of his childhood home.

“When did you get here?” he whispered, scared if he spoke too loudly then you would disappear and this was just a figment of his imagination.

“I actually only got here about fifteen minutes ago,” you giggled, closing the gap between the two of you. The moment you got within arms reach of him, he wasted no time in pulling you into his chest, squeezing you tight, never wanting to let you go.

“Êtes-vous ici pour Noël ? Are you here for Christmas?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Thought we could start some new traditions, you, me and Alice,” you responded, looking up, resting your hand against his cheek. “Make some better Christmas memories for the two of us.”

Before Charles could respond we were attacked by the little terror that was my three year old daughter. “Char Char,” she screamed, trying to climb him like a tree.

He quickly pulled away from the hug to scoop her up in his arms, the moment she was high enough he pressed a small kiss to the end of her nose, causing her giggles to echo around the room. Nothing could wipe the smile off Charles’ face, he had both his girls with him on his favorite season of the year. The distance was starting to kill him, all he wanted was both of you by his side as he traveled the world, that was his Christmas wish this year.

“I missed you, Princess,” he whispered, brushing some of her loose curls away from her eyes.

“Missed you more, Char Char,” she whispered back, resting her small hand on his cheek. You felt tears threatening to spill over your lash line. Charles had completely changed your life for the better, he treated your daughter as if she was his own and there never went a day where he didn’t shower either of you in love. “Can we go and see Santa?” Alice asked, widening her eyes and fluttering her eyelashes at Charles.

“I can’t think of anything better, Princess,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before placing her on the ground and watching her sprint towards the front door.

“You willing to stand in line for hours, waiting to see someone dressed as the big man?” you hummed in amusement, tucking your hands into the back pocket of our jeans. “You know there is a chance we will get spotted.”

The smirk on his face melted your heart and if it wasn’t for the fact you were leaning against the counter top, you swore your knees would have given out on you. “You and Alice are my entire world, babygirl and I don’t want to hide that away anymore.” he whispered, closing the gap between the two of you, planting his hands on your hips. “I want to start new traditions with you, Y/N. And if the first one is making sure that every year Alice gets to go see Santa, followed by a walk around a Christmas market with hot chocolate.”

“That sounds perfect, Mr Leclerc,” you giggled, brushing your noses against his.

@chibsytelford @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @stillbreathin @angywritesstuff @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @livo676 @buendiabebeta @ferrarifwendvale @hungryhungariann @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @queenslife @panicforspec @justme2042 @liv67 @derpinathebrave @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @raaaaabzzz @mehrmonga @sbgal @fangirl-lb @pitconfirmbutton @oslokij @tall-tanned-tattoo

[jeysuso]

What's your fluffiest steddie headcanon(s) ?

hi angel!! 💜💜

oooh this is a good one. honestly any time i'm put on the spot to think about things for my ships i always end up blanking. one fluffy hc is one i'm currently writing about so i won't divulge (hehehe) but! one i've been thinking about a lot lately is christmas with the munsons.

steve decorates his first christmas tree with wayne and eddie. usually because his parents aren't around, he doesn't normally do the whole decoration thing because he sees it as something you do with family. even when he was with nancy, when the wheelers all decorated for christmas, she invited him to join but he politely declined, because, again, it's a family ordeal as far as he's concerned, and it just makes him crave what he's never had. nancy's parents never treated steve like their own, so while nancy and mike were fighting over who got to put the angel at the top of the tree, karen wheeler no doubt baking cookies in the kitchen, ted ignoring the whole thing on the couch, he knew he would be the odd one out there.

enter wayne munson. well, at first eddie, of course. they're dating and it's quickly coming round (as christmas always does), and steve doesn't think eddie's the type to celebrate christmas (are garish christmas jumpers 'metal'? steve wonders if eddie thinks so. he likes the idea of wearing matching ones just to see eddie's face when he has to stay in bright and glittering itching knitted fabric all day, but he doesn't know if it's his Thing).

but then they're having breakfast one morning and eddie invites steve to come get a tree with them. he and wayne do it every year, make a whole day out of decorating the trailer. it's tradition for them at this point. one that's insisted upon because eddie never had a real christmas growing up, and wayne likes to make sure he makes up for lost time, on all the things he missed out on, even if it isn't going to be the flashiest. cheap and tacky looks better at christmas, anyway. all those ugly sparkly ornaments and stockings and those plastic-tasting candy canes you can get. who'd ask for more? they bake cookies (burn cookies), dump too much icing on them to conceal the char, and, of course, they both pretend they're the best thing they've ever tasted when they have them later with a glass of milk, but it's still, to eddie, the best day of the year other than christmas itself.

steve, at first, says thanks but no thanks. again, similar to nancy, he doesn't want to intrude, he doesn't want to overstay his welcome. he knows how important eddie and wayne's relationship is, the last thing he'd want to do is get in between that for something they've done long-before steve came on the scene.

but then wayne finds out steve said no, and he insists upon him coming. tells him he's gotta come help pick out the tree 'cause someone's got to tell eddie they can't get the 10ft one with the spikiest branches because it won't fit, and wayne finally thought he wouldn't need to do it alone and says he's getting too old to grapple with eddie alone, is gonna lose what's left of his hair if he has to keep doing it (a joke, obviously, wayne loves bickering with eddie). but he wants steve to feel included, because wayne basically adopts steve from the moment he realised he cares about his nephew and saw how happy he made him. of course steve is invited. wayne would be offended if he didn't come, honestly.

so steve goes, and, obviously, they tag-team eddie and come home with a normal, appropriate tree that fits inside the trailer perfectly, accompanied with so many decorations that steve didn't even know existed. eddie gets to see him in awe of all the lights, and the shimmer, and he particularly loved the snowglobes for some reason, and oh my god, if it isn't the cutest thing eddie's ever seen. to him, christmas is one of his favourite times of year now he has his uncle wayne to spend it with, but he thinks it's somehow going to become even better now he has steve around, too.

but they put the decorations up, and steve has never felt so included in something in all of his life. they're listening to christmas music, they've cracked open a few beers, wayne's telling them about his christmases as a kid, and eddie refuses to call what they're being "forced" to listen to music but then steve, later, swears he hears him singing under his breath when it comes to putting the tinsel on.

before they're finished, wayne takes a seat 'cause he's getting old, leaves the hard graft (baubles, ornaments, candy canes, decorating the rest of the trailer in garish red, green, and gold everything) to the young bucks, keeps talking about the days of old (wayne strikes me as the kind of guy who likes talking about the olden days, sits on his porch during the summer with an ice cold beer and strums a guitar-type), so it's just steve and eddie doing the rest. and there's so much bickering between them about what looks best where, and wayne smiling the whole time, laughing at them both, 'cause these are adults??? and they're acting like children??

but eventually they're all finished. burnt cookies have been eaten, couple of movies have been watched, and wayne's turning in for the night, says night to both of them before he disappears into his room, shuts the door behind him. steve and eddie are just about ready to turn in too 'cause they're, honestly, exhausted. but then eddie's like "no, wait, one more thing we forgot to put up." and steve's like "munson, i swear to god, do not try to move that reindeer again," and eddie's like "i'm not going to move the reindeer," and leaves steve to grumble to himself cause he's certain he's going to move this reindeer again but, instead, eddie goes in the opposite direction towards his bedroom. shouts out for steve to shut his eyes before he comes back out 'cause it's a surprise.

steve does. shuts his eyes and stands in the living room of the trailer like an idiot, waiting. does say "if you put something in my hair, i'm killing you in your own house" and hears eddie laugh and it annoys him cause he starts smiling too. but then he feels eddie before he hears him, the warmth in front of him telling him he's so much closer than he was around fifteen seconds ago, and even though they've been dating a while now, steve still gets that little flutter in his chest.

eddie tells him to open his eyes, and when steve does, he's holding up mistletoe (obviously, what else would it be, honestly) steve's like "oh my god you're such a nerd what is that" and eddie's all goofy and grinning like, "you can't have christmas without mistletoe, stevie. c'mon. pucker up." and steve rolls his eyes but he's so happy right now. he's so fucking happy right now his chest could explode. but then eddie smiles all soft and sweet and oh my god just so soft and says, "merry christmas, sweetheart,"

and honestly there's a part of him that just feels like crying. he wells up as he closes his eyes and has a lump in his throat, a sob on his tongue that he almost leaves in eddie's mouth when he kisses him and steve kisses him back, because he realizes, in that moment, that he actually has it. all of those christmases he dreamt about as a kid, those things he so desperately wanted but knew he would never find with nancy, or heidi, or the next girl, or the next, he realizes he has them all with eddie, and steve's never going to have to wonder what it feels like to be really loved ever again, 'cause he realizes he already is.

[daltonsgirl69]

Unhealthy Obsession

a/n hiii angels! sorry for the wait im backkk and i will have the next chapter out soon if you want to be apart of the tag list let me know and i will add you:)) Updated: hi pookies I'm in the car rn traveling to Louisiana from cali so i have alot of time on my hands to try and finish some stories that are in my drafts:) btw dont be shy request stuff:))

tag list: @quicksilversg1rl @pearls4valentine @adamsbubblegumbitch @urhotfathdr

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part one

part two

part three

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tw: 18+ If you don't like smut then please don't read… beyond this there is partying, underage drinking and smoking, adult language, sex, fingering, touching, and kissing.

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part four: time of my life

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You had just walked out the front door just in time for Charlie to be pulling up. You walked over to his car about to get the door when he gets out and walks over to you.

“you look gorgeous.”

you smile “Why thank you Charlie”

“Here lemme get the car door” he opens the door

“thank you” You aren’t used to anyone guys acting like gentlemen considering your father was a dipshit and every guy you’ve dated has been a complete dumb fuck. You get in the car and asure him your all good and he shuts the door. He gets in and looks over at you.

“you do look beautiful y/n” This makes you smile as you look into his blue eyes. Every time you do you get lost in his eyes you glance over every facial feature he is like art perfect.

“thank you Charlie you don’t look too bad yourself,” you said with a smirk he was wearing dark blue jeans a white button-down, and black Converse. You put on your seatbelt and smiled at him. “thank you haha. Okay, are you ready to go?”

“yeah yeah when we get there ill help you set everything up” You smiled he had already started driving “Really? Thank you thank you I wasn't gonna ask you too I didn't wanna make your work cause I mean I invited you as a guest yk?” you giggled “no yeah its okay char of course ill help do you know when Robbie is gonna get there?”

“yeah he should be there around 7:15 ish so we will have just a little time where it's just us” You were looking down at your thighs playing with your ring. You look up at Charlie's hands on the steering wheel. Holy fucking shit he has nice hands I bet he is good with them. You thought to yourself.

Then charlie said “Are you okay? your staring…”

“wait huh oh sorry,” you say trying not to make it awkward knowing you just got caught staring at his hands. You start to say something when you're cut off by his hand finding its way to your thigh. You look and his hand and then at him your cheeks starting to go pink.

He doesn't look at you. All he says is. “well this is what you wanted right? I mean why else would you be staring at him? I bet you imagining more than just this tho right?” he says in a teasing tone. You froze unable to respond. Dear god, you thought charlie walker was this shy nerdy virgin who had never touched a woman where the fuck did this confidence come from.

“I- uhm yeah” you stammer out. You take a deep breath and find some confidence and put your hand on top of his and move it towards your inner thigh a bit. You see him start to blush knowing his boost of confidence was coming to an end and he was getting nervous. It was honestly cute because you knew you were his weakness. But just as you thought he was too nervous to do anything else. He moves his hand up your dress. His hand is resting just below your panties.

When he does this your breath hitches. At this point, it wasn’t a want it was a need you could feel yourself throbbing you needed him to keep going.

Just as you were gonna say anything you guys pull into this dirt parking lot where there is an old barn which is where the sabbathon is taking place. He removes his hands from your thigh and parks. You grab your bag and decide to fix your lipgloss real quick when you're done you see Charlie getting the car door again. “you are so beautiful” he says while admiring you. You get out of the car. “thank you char” He shuts the car door and you turn to face him. You look up at him. You wanted to kiss him. while using the triangle method he put moves your hair out of your face and behind your ear. “can I kiss you?”

Without responding you kiss him. The kiss slowly turning to a make out he has you pinned against the car his hands exploring your body. In between kisses he murmurs “so perfect”. He starts kissing down your neck leaving a few hickies on your neck and collarbone. He bites you a bit on your neck causing you to whimper. His hands travel down your body and up your dress. “Wait,” you say. “is everything okay” he stops kinda scared he did something wrong. “what time did you say Robbie is gonna be here?”

“around 7:1-” his phone rings. It's Robbie he picks it up

“Hello?”

“I'm sorry Charlie is running a little bit late ill probably be there around 7:30”

“it's okay dont worry me and Y/n can set up I don't think people are gonna start showing up till at least 8:30”

“ok ok see you at 7:30 maybe”

-he hangs up the phone-

Charlie turns back towards you and smiles. “well Robbie is running a lil late but do you wanna go inside n set up so we can chill out till people get here?”

“sure” You guys grab a few things out of the car and the chairs are already inside you just had to set them up. Charlie set up the projector and stuff while you set up chairs. When you guys are done you can't wait any longer and throw yourself onto him kissing him hard. he puts his hands on your waist backing you into the wall. This time he doesn't wait to slide his hands into your panties drawing small circles on your clit causing you to whimper but you are trying to stay quiet

“nono I want to hear your pretty noises angel” he kisses you while pumping and curling two fingers in and out of your aching pussy. You moan into the kiss knowing your gonna cum soon. “Charlie” you whimper out “Yes angel?” he says

“m gonna cum” he continues pumping his finger in and out a little harder and touches your clit. You are a whimpering mess. “Shh shh, I know I know” You feel the pressure in your stomach release as you whimper his name and cum all over his hands. taking a few deep breathes you look up at Charlie. “you did so well for me angel” he says

“Now be good open up” You open your mouth and suck his fingers clean. “good girl,” He says while having a hand on your jaw making you look up at him. He Gives you a quick kiss and pulls you into a hug hands around your waist and slightly rubbing your back. “you did so good are you okay?”

“yes I'm okay thank you Charlie I didn’t know you were so good with your hands” you kinda giggle and pull out from the hug. “well I’ve thought abt this situation a lot and I just wanna make you feel good” What you didn’t know is thinking about this happening isn’t the only thing he has done. But we will get to that another time. He checks his phone its 7:45 and robbie isnt here yet but kirby is parking and walks in to you and charlie standing close together looking at his phone and giggling at something. Kirby is jealous but doesn't say anything abt it.

“hiii” you look up to see kirby

“Helloo Kirby” You hug her and she hugs Charlie but not a friend hug you notice but shove it off. “I have drinks in my car and Jill is on her way. Also I few of the football players are picking up a keg”

“Okay cool,” Charlie says smiling at Kirby. You can see the way he looks at her. You wonder if you're just reading too much into things Or if Kirby had a chance with him. Like I know he was just making out with you and fingering you but you honestly thought he wanted her.

It’s hard because Kirby is your friend and you font wanna let a boy come between you guys but Charlie wasn’t just any boy you were falling for him And you couldn’t risk losing him…

[fbj723]

honestly been going back and forth w myself on a lot of things lately attaching a read more for the sake of ik i'll be rambling like theres no tmr

a part of me wants to drop pnc but i havent really gotten everyone i wanted yet + im broke so i need to build my stash up *looks at clotho and eos* oddly enough pnc has been a game ive been pretty happy on playing still hate how i missed a login day tho tbf ive rarely borderline never interacted w the fandom so me just being in the dark w what goes on there has kinda been a blessing and a curse in a sense that i can enjoy the game in peace but it feels like im alone doing so

pgr im really REALLY tempted on dropping my glb acc, once nocti comes around which will prob be around the end of the school yr for me thats where i'd be like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ welp ig im done and drop that acc after playing around w nocti and whatev. tw im still not too sure abt?? prob when i get around to lvling up my main teams i can be like ok im done and drop that at any time since im just there to experience content ahead of time without being in cn directly

before dropping pgr entirely i do wanna complete a few stuff i had in mind tho

countdown for hyperreal which will prob happen bambi patch

still need to finish that nocti countdown for tw ive barely had any motivation completing that

nocti's bday countdown (similar to how lee's went)

glb nocti's countdown

draw every char up to latest one in cn

a few noctiskk comics thats been in the back of my head for MONTHS now

basically LOTS of countdowns and nocti stuff before i drop everything entirely

will i still draw pgr stuff after all that? mayyybeee???? itll moreso be towards kye's lore building rather than it being a standalone thing. i'll still collect merch and build up my shrines and make cosplay for chars but aside from that i'm pretty much gonna be moving on to other things

ive always had 50/50 feelings w being in the pgr fandom, tho being introduced to it on disc and then going to twt may have affected my views on this whole thing. esp when the side of the fandom i was first introduced to is like the lowest of the low, i dont want to go back to a place where a bunch of dudebro incels made fun of me for being afab and liking lee and me thinking that was a norm when it clearly isnt. its been 2 goddamn yrs and theyre still poking fun at that?? like my god grow up im so sick and tired of it.

if by a slim chance i still want to participate in being in the pgr fandom i'll just go back to lurking like ive always done in prev fandoms, if i really wanna be active in talking abt the game i'll talk abt it in servers or dms, but publicly i felt that i could never really comfortably talk abt how i feel abt it aside from here cause this site >>>>>> bc i felt like my opinions arent valid, tho that really applies to anything i do so 💀💀

pgr has been a really nice game for me to destress and detach myself from reality for a bit, tho now i wanna move on to other games and focus more on my ocs like i did back in the day. once i properly set up everyone's lore doc maybe in the future i'll make a game around them, nothing too big since i'll pretty much be making most of it, but i kinda wanna fulfill my childhood dream that was just recently unlocked

theres also that small part of me that wants to be known for my oc stuff rather than pgr stuff, but bc im not tagging w popular art tags im kinda just existing, and thats fine by me. hitting 500+ follows on twt was like peak realization of me going like "oh shit, 😨 maybe this big of a following aint for me" and it truly isnt lol

[cerealmonster15]

Give me A D and L of your Twisted OCs do it

ty for always enabling me and my twst crimes despite not twsting yourself kjdsfj 🧡

also tagging @cosmiccoincidence ty for the double enabling WOO

ok here's the sketchy whatever i did 2night, was gonna do some basic colors but i got sleeeepyyyy so maybe tomorrow ill do that lol

HEHFHSFEHFJK anyway. alda beloved none of this will make sense to u so ill try to give spark notes explanations as i go but. these two goobers are rsa [royal sword academy - the rival school that seems to be more based on the Good Guy™ disney characters rather than the main school's villains lol] students.

the very short summary is guy on left (Char - I looked thru sooo many names for him and that's the one i ended up on lol. some twst names are really on the nose like VIL for the EVIL QUEEN so why cant i use char!) is cater diamond's [a canon character who's said to have moved around a lot] childhood friend from when they were like 5 but lost contact w/him. Dañarte (literally not a name. it's spanish for 'hurt you' and it only came up/his existence spawns from a typo turned autocorrect in a message i was sending my frined and we just kept it for funsies and i made a character out of it lol 😭) is his shady cousin that has a charming friendly appearance but is going to cause problems on purpose bc hes a bitter baby or whatever.

i have a lot more details w/them and their connection with BESTIE CATER but that's not what the ask was about so i will HOLD BACK!!! for now.

ok answering the actual questions under a cut bc blahblahblahblah

A) Why are you excited about this character?

because!!! i see a lot of people make really creative twst ocs based off other disney characters and i think that's SO FUN!!!! i dont really think i myself am very creative of a person, but this was something i kinda got to have fun with. i had the initial thought with char based off one random fanart I saw like forever ago, so i borrowed the starting idea and then just completely ran off with it to do my own thing, SPIN MY OWN WEB!!!! [i think the fanart was like, just some random rsa guy recognizing cater; it was japanese fanart so i had limited google translate on my side - idr if the childhood friend thing was part of it or if that's just a thing my brain decided to fill in the blanks?? anyway i went from there / designed my own random guy / started LORE BUILDING and EXPANDING]

also their involvement is very much a soap opera esque TEEN ROMANCE DRAMA which i think is funny. a lot of this came from just talking to my friend in discord cuz there was no engtwst at the time and she was the only person i knew that i could talk to about twst, so even tho these are my characters, it's something that spawned from me going ham in our discord messages and us bouncing ideas off each other and just havin private fun. unrestrained goofs!!!

D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?

HMMMM well according to all the doodles i'd compiled in one spot, it does look like i just went with my initial ideas for both of em and kept it. they r not that deeply thought out bc i am Not much of a designer - god bless the school uniform i could steal so i didnt have to come up w/clothes kfjlsdf. and tbh theyre pretty basic right now so for all i know, maybe this is the prototype. maybe they've yet to go through their first evolution. WHO KNOWS!!!! but in their case, their existence came more from the SOAP OPERA DRAMA storyline i came up with, and wasn't so much based on appearance/character design. i mostly just had doodles and sketchy concepts just so i could continue to doodle parts of said story for funsies to send my friend on discord lol

BESTIE THERE IS NO L!!!!! instead of asking u what u meant im just gonna assume u meant I since lowercase L looks like uppercase I 😌 SO YOU'RE GETTING I!!!

I) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe?

ya lol. this 'story' is very much based off like a few lines of canon lore that i just SPRINTED OFF with. drag and dropping these 2 guys into the story - not really related to much of the main story, but just kinda there to cause more teen drama. for funsies.

ANYWAY THANKS FOR ASKING LOVE U BOTH BYE!!!!!!

[x]

[neopuff]

wips

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips. (You can make your own post or reblog this one!)  I have deemed that this isn’t just for writing either. Sketch titles? Comics? Dnd campaigns? If you have an unfinished project, it counts!!

tagged by @drewsaturday

lol i have...a lot of fic and video wips. and then not a lot of art wips. i should stick with ones i can actually see myself finishing one day but honestly you just never know what i’m gonna do next. i believe the oldest wip here is from 2006 or 2007

(under a cut ‘cause it got too long)

FICS

Ace Attorney

boat

mayaedgeworth

kmeme prompts

DuckTales

charity auction

scrooge dying

its a little late to be asking for my number

because i’m scrooge mcduck

amnesia goldie

stop calling me

weblena journal fic

amnesia goldie (yes, another one)

misc untitled wips

scroldies first continuation

truth serum

you’re my person

left it in the will

GlomGoldie Outline (collab)

gilt tales (collab)

Fullmetal Alchemist

5 times they were set up and 1 time they weren

after promised day

An undercover assignment

eds wedding

eh

elizabeth

five people

havolina1

roy hawkeye origin

six people

waking up

greeza

kimbliza poto

Generator Rex

holidaywiththeholidays2

(TMNT crossover) bisholiday

Pokémon

alternate

dangerr

decisions decisions

denial

dovey

dp153 meowth

drunk james

james sick

kiss goodbye

luvdisc

mood changer

remember

the single life

ultraball

Teen Titans

warp

terradrabblethingschange

ravenseason4drabble

Raven

Trollhunters

stricklake2

stricklake3

stricklake4

Other

Sym-Bionic Ttian: badimitationilanca

Xiaolin Showdown: jackim

Kaijudo: lobachavez one word prompts

VIDS (not including wip mep parts cuz thats too much)

American Dragon: Jake Long

jakerose 30 otp day 29

jakerose 30 otp day 30

jakerose soulmate

jakerose

Amphibia

anne sprig always gold

BH6

bh6 collab

Bojack Horseman

beatrice believe me

Code Lyoko

aelita sad machine

Danny Phantom

valerie machine

DC/Marvel

dantemala do i wanna know

jlu otps princess of hcina

livmay ophelia

losh thinkin too much

DuckTales

bradheron

della havent met you yet

duck hets piano man

fendra electric love

goldie never enough

ducktales family

scroldie back to you

scroldie hopelessly devoted

scroldie must be the place

scroldie stay

scroldie stubborn love

scroldie too close for comfort

weblena when she sees me

weblena ocean avenue

Ever After High

dappling mama say

Fulmetal Alchemist

royai shake it off

royai the hills

scar feel my heart

Generator Rex

circe scream my name

holix breathe

holix calendar

holix dna

holix idk

holix thousand years

holix violet hilll

rex astronaut in the ocean

rex caesar let my people go

Infinity Train

infinity train lay down in the tall grass

Kids Next Door

knd come back down

nigelabby listen to your heart

Leverage

natesophie i knew you once

parkerhardison someone to you

Miraculous Ladybug

lukanette evergreen

Moomins

groke shes a lady

Motorcity

jukebox suburbs

Multifandom

cartoons pictures of you

eyes blue like the atlantic

id chars little lion man

kainessa dantekamala lvoe by mistake

multicrossover we were sparkling

multiship time after time

rocketshipping jacsee feel my face

wonderwall otps

Non/Disney

heverlyn forget her

heverlyn strange addiction

The Owl House

collector

Psychonauts

psychonauts asylum give us a little love

razlili kiss me more

Riverdale

choni all night

Seis Manos

silencio happiness

SheRa

catra oceans

lightmara when you break

Star Darlings

star darlings lost stars

Steven Universe

pearlnet perfect

spinel bellyache

Tangled

cassunzel into the dark

cassunzel oceans

cassunzel uh

cassunzel

Teen Titans

bbterra halo

robrae forever

robrae jealous

robrae love will tear us apart

robrae so close

robrae soulmates

robterra nightmare

teen titans mashup mep

terra distant shore

tt one day more

TMNT

karai dont wanna be

Total Drama

jacsee empire

jacsee feelings

jacsee oh no

jasammy tear in my heart

Trollhunters

stricklake obsession

stricklake what you do

X-Files

msr s1

msr s2

msr s3

msr s4

msr s5

msr s6

Xiaolin Showdown

jackimiko va va voom

[viciousbite]

———  basics! ♡

(PEN)NAME:  Val

PRONOUNS:  She / Her (Or any, surprise me :p)

ZODIAC SIGNS:  Aries

TAKEN OR SINGLE:  Single forever. Whoops.

TIME ZONE:  Eastern European (summer) time, EEST.

———  three  facts! ♡

Awkward, chill person. Mega hard to anger me. Also confused most of the time, cause idk what goes in my own brain sometimes either.

Energy drink addict, if I’m hyper and talk a lot, probs had extra of that danger juice.

I love cats. and felines in general.

———  experience ! ♡

Rping in english on tumblr, I started around 2012 to the end of 2013, before taking a break until 2016, when I started another blog, from what I can see on my blogs archives, and been lurking around since then. Sometimes taking months of breaks in between. I rped in my own language earlier too, but nowadays I don’t do that at all and stick to english, which has improved a tiny bit over the years. Mainly had good experiences here.

———  muse preference !  ♡

Villain characters. Usually the calm, introverted ones, who can watch the world burn and be like: Well that sucks. Lately I been testing out more emotional characters though, that have both bad and good sides. I guess nowadays I need a mood for when I play the full on evil chars, like Michi, but still enjoy those a ton when the mood is there. Also love humor... dark humor, so if my muses are capable of being funny, I enjoy writing them on the long run.

———  FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡    

FLUFF:  I love it, it’s a good way to let my muses have some sweetness in their lives. I don’t write it that often, but sometimes you need that little joyful things to write and cute interactions with your muses to keep said muses going. (don’t wanna make them sad with too much angst)

ANGST:  LOVE IT--... I always tend to put my muses through some kind of hell if my rp partner is fine with it. Writing chars in any sort of distress is interesting to me, all the emotions and it’s even better if after all that angst, there is the comfort threads after, like life is gonna start looking a little better. Bonding through trauma, I guess, what you could call it. But yeah, angst, dark plots, I love.

SMUT:  Mainly write it in ask prompts, but willing to write in thread form too with people I’m comfy with. It’s a fun topic to write. The minus is, I can’t write it all the time, but when I do, I enjoy it. Sometimes your muses just got to have the fun times, sometimes they even demand it.

PLOT / MEMES: Both are good, I prefer memes mainly. But that’s only cause I am bad at plotting, and I feel bad when my rp partner does all the work... It’s just me, being awkward at telling what my empty brain has, or most of the time, there’s nothing in my brain. Which is why meme’s help a lot, and don’t mind going from a meme to plotting, like if there’s proper ideas to go from there. (or my plot ideas are too dark and I don’t dare to tell them out XD) 

tagged by: @noircisaint (thank you <3)

tagging: Whoever wants to do it~

[cosplayprincess21]

I posted 471 times in 2022

140 posts created (30%)

331 posts reblogged (70%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@acilykos-art

@disasterpersonified

@im-surviving-off-of-tea11

@the-ancient-ocean

@headphonemouse

I tagged 226 of my posts in 2022

#dr stone - 176 posts

#dcst - 168 posts

#dr. stone - 151 posts

#drst - 127 posts

#gen asagiri - 72 posts

#asagiri gen - 72 posts

#ryusui nanami - 59 posts

#senku ishigami - 54 posts

#kohaku - 51 posts

#nanami ryusui - 42 posts

Longest Tag: 114 characters

#seriously ive rewatched dr.stone. how i met your mother. the originals and moriarty the patriot multiple times now

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Senku hcs

Oh this shall be fun

Realizes he's aromantic asexual in middle school. Everyone else was going on about romance and dating and all that other stuff, and all he cared about was science.

Was the one lecturing people in elementary school about why certain super powers can't be real and crushed the hopes and dreams of those wanting lazer vision

Would secretly leave Taiju money or other things he needed but pretended he had no idea where they came from

Since hes the definition of aroace, his gaydar is never wrong

Tried to figure out if he could turn himself into a robot as a kid, it did not work

Speaking of robots, he had robot pj's up until he was 11 in which he traded them for science ones

His experiments would make stay up late into the night, so naturally, he developed a taste for energy drinks.

At night he will sometimes think of Byakuya and remember all the memories he has with his dad, he might try to act like the man was embarrassing and all, but deep down hes a kid who never got to say goodbye to his dad

The only two people he can fully confide in are Taiju and Yuzuirha

While its common for kids who are adopted to want to know about their biological parents, he doesnt. He had Byakuya after all, and Byakuya is his dad, nothing else matters.

Hope you like them. Senku is a very fun character to make headcanons for.

45 notes - Posted March 28, 2022

#4

no one in Dr.STONE is an autistic retard so why do you plan to make a post about it? just cause you're retarded doesnt mean they are

congrats you got me to use Tumblr Desktop instead of my phone because im going to have a lot to say.

First of all, fuck off with the R word here, its an outdated and harmful term thats rooted in Ableism. Secondly i was going to ignore this and delete it when i saw the first line but then you also decided to insult me so you know enjoy getting your ass handed to you.

But whats wrong with noticing that certain characters in Dr.STONE are ASD coded? Like everyone accepts that Ryusui has ADHD but being autistic is something bad right? News Flash it isnt. Also show me where in the manga that Sai and Yuzuriha dont show traits of autism? i feel explaining to you would be a waste of energy but just know this is only going to make my post on it even longer cause holy fuck the beginning will now have a rant about people like you. Do me a favor and never send an ask here again and kindly fuck off.

Also this comment really pissed me off and i was going to focus on just Sai and Yuzuriha but now im gonna add Magma,Senku and Ruri to this as well cause ive also been seeing them as ASD coded but have been keeping that to myself.

47 notes - Posted August 13, 2022

#3

so i finished fmab

sobbing crying wailing etc it was SO GOOD and completely destroyed me at the same time fhjfjkfjhfkjhsahjsdjhfkjdjghdkjsk definitely the anime of all time

welcome to the world of FMAB. The obsession will never leave, and the pain gets worse with every rewatch. But with that also comes seeing little things you never noticed before which makes the series even better. 

47 notes - Posted January 23, 2022

#2

Ok so ill be posting about the final chapter soon but. IM SO HAPPY SENKU DIDNT GET ANY LOVE INTERESTS. HES AROACE AND STAYS AROACE HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

54 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Ok but i really need to know what people have against aroace characters? Like theres nothing wrong with any character being aroace but for some reason it just causes others to be so upset and for what? Ive seen it with mostly One Piece and The Disastrous Life of Saiki K. Luckily havent seen it as much with Dr.STONE or at least on tumblr. The number of people ive blocked on tiktok for getting upset about Senku being CANONICALLY aroace is ridiculous. But yeah can someone just explain this to me? Cause aroace exist and we do deserve to have our representation in media and not in the "oh im rude because im aroace and thats my only personality" way. But in a way where we ardnt dehumanized for not feeling romantic or sexual attraction.

331 notes - Posted July 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[tabletopwhumper]

Second post, but actually the first thing I ever wrote outside a character backstory.

A note for context: Ali was raised by who two older brothers after their dad was killed when she was eight. And even though it's been fifteen years since then neither brother has been able to shake the overprotective parent role, which has caused friction between the three of them many MANY times.

I did take some liberties with how medicine works in Shadowrun. I have only a vague working knowledge on how the mechanics play so I leaned pretty heavily on "if they have magic and smart weapons they gotta have some kick ass med clinics."

Blowback

A run for the Red Knights comes back to bite in a shit way.

CW: Whump, blood, gun violence, gang violence, and so much profanity.

Four. Fucking. Days.

How much life altering shit can possibly be crammed into four fucking days? A long time friend turned traitor. The Ancients' little rat's nest turned to rubble only to discover the real Ancients' deception. Mr. Johnson fucking her team over thoroughly.

But the thing making Ali’s chest feel tight is the fact that it’s been days since she’s talked to Jordan. Since White-Eyes' disappearing act her older brother hasn't been right. She’d watched from her barstool as he collapsed heavily into a chair, dead eyes staring straight ahead, hammering back one shot after another. She wanted nothing more than to speak to him at that moment but a small head shake from Tim warned her away. “Might wanna give him a bit, Sprog,” Jens also cautioned.

So Ali waits. But three days later her human brother’s eyes are still hollow. “How is he?” she’d quietly asked Tim after two nights of hard drinking.

“Not gonna lie to you. He’s not himself.”

“What does that even mean??”

“It means he needs time. The Ancients, White-Eyes…. It’s a lot. Give him time.”

So to The Engine Block she went. And there she stays, doing her best to help Jens optimize the bikes. Jordan had once told her that she helps the Knights best when she’s in the garage and Ali clings to those words, ensuring that each machine is in as prime condition as she can make it before moving on to other, more personal, projects. After helping Bean fix his Harley- fucking mages- she turns her attention to the armor repairs on her Roadmaster.

A fire blasted hole in one side hadn’t quite reached the interior. Ali is sure the charred edges are mocking her. But having something to take out her anger on is cathartic. Prying loose another damaged panel leaves her sweating. “Mother FUCKING Johnson,” she mutters, pulling back with all her weight. “Mother FUCKING spellcasters.” The panel finally gives way, nearly knocking her to the ground. But Ali catches herself at the last instant and hurls the scorched piece to the floor. “Motherfucking White-Eyes!”

“Trouble?”

Ali turns, surprised to hear another voice in the garage. She expects it’s either Jens or Newbie Mike sent to “check up” on her. What she does not expect is the abrupt ringing in her ears or the distinct feeling of being punched in the chest. The workbench stops her fall but there’s no air left in her lungs. Another punch, this one forcing her to her knees. Distantly Ali realizes the reason she can’t hear anything beyond the high pitched whine in her ears is because someone fired a gun in the garage.

Oh. Not a punch then. Shit.

A pair of booted feet approach from beyond her van. As he comes into view Ali can clearly see the shotgun draped over one shoulder. Home painted Ancients tags adorn the haphazard armor that looks like it was bought at a thrift store for gangers. His mouth is moving but she can’t hear a word. Dropping down to his knees, eyes level with hers, she can just barely make out what he’s saying.

“...bitch that killed my brothers.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“I… didn’t…” she hopes the words are making it beyond her mouth despite the lack of air in her lungs.

“Sure ya did.” The elf sneers, eyes narrowing, as he brings a large nasty looking knife up for her inspection. “You… and that shit group of runners. You followed them home and burned down their nest. YOU!!” Ali tries to inch away from the pointed end of the weapon toward her van where she knows her own arms are waiting. But the elf laughs as her trembling limbs fumble to support her weight. “Oh please. You’re not going anywhere! Because I KNOW it was your sad little biker friends who put out the hit. So the way I see it?” Faster than she can see the knife is buried to the hilt in her middle. “I win twice.” The fucker twists the blade, slow and deliberate, before pulling hard to remove it from her flesh. Grabbing her commlink from where it sits on the workbench, the bastard gets to his feet. “Don’t bleed out too quick now. I want your friends to find you first.”

Ali’s thoughts race as she curls forward, arms rising in a futile attempt to stem the tide of blood. Too many wounds, too much damage… Her stomach is the worst, the knife’s jagged edges leaving a gaping hole. Red seeps through her fingers at an alarming rate. Looking around, trying not to let panic drown her, Ali looks for anything that might be of help… No. Not in the garage, not within reach.

The room is spinning.

She tries to get to her feet only to have one wobbly leg quickly collapse beneath her. Tears track down the sides of her face as she falls, and Alison silently prays that she will be the only one to die over this.

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

Ali’s message had been short and to the point: Down at EB. Come give me a hand?

Jordan had rolled his eyes but shrugged on his coat. He owes Ali a conversation anyways. Or, at least, Tim says he does. “She’s just worried about you.”

Walking in the back door of The Engine Block and Jordan can’t help but notice the unusual smell wafting through the air. Copper and smoke, like somebody had been setting off pipe bombs. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters. Moving a little faster toward the garage bays the smell gets stronger. “Ali? What the hell is that-”

There’s nothing that could have prepared him for this. For several heartbeats Jordan simply can’t fathom what he’s seeing.

Crimson. Copper. Ali.

His sister lays on her side amidst a sea of red, arms wrapped tightly around her middle as if to ward off the chill from the concrete floor. His legs are moving, body responding, though something in his brain has completely shut off. Kneeling in the sea, hands hovering, some distant rational part of him recognizes the mess seeping through his jeans while the primal animal in control howls that it doesn’t MATTER.

“Ali??” His voice is strangled, even in his own ears, as he turns his sister onto her back. Drawing her trembling arms away to assess the damage… Jordan nearly chokes. A gamut of red soaked wounds paint her front punctuated by a dangerous gouge in her middle. Quick labored breaths heave past ashen lips as he shakes her. “Ali?! Alison!!” Her eyes flutter and for a moment he’s relieved… until they open wide in panic.

“J-Jordan,” she gasps around the shivers wracking her body.

“You’re okay kid,” he murmurs. “I promise, you’re gonna be fine.”

“N-no! Y-y-ou n… need-”

“Shut up. I’m gonna get you to the doc.”

But as he moves to pull her from the floor she shoves him away, her failing strength evident in the weak attempt. “N-not s-afe,” she breaths. “A-a-ncien-"

"Awwww, the little bitch held on longer than I thought she would." Jordan's head snaps to the source of the scathing words as he instinctively clutches his sister closer. A lithe elf approaches slowly, leisurely, slow claps echoing off the rafters. "Or maybe you just showed up sooner than I expected. Either way… good job."

Comprehension gnaws its way through the adrenaline. This bastard shot Ali. He shot her, gutted her, left her to bleed out, lured me here. A rage like he's never felt corrodes his guts and rises with such abrupt intensity that he nearly chokes. Every nerve is alright with the demand for retribution, hands trembling but his arms are full… full of his sister looking weaker and more pallid by the second and her blood is still pooling and there isn't TIME for this!!

"What do you want?" Jordan rasps, shifting Ali in his arms.

"Isn't it obvious?" The elf stalks around the siblings in a wide circle while his shotgun remains trained on them. Taking a good look and it's easy for Jordan to pick out the rookie gear and shit weapon. "I want to SLAUGHTER every piece of shit Knight who had my BROTHERS KILLED!!" With the focus on them, Jordan knows he just has to watch the elf's footing, keep him talking…

"Brothers?" Jordan barks out with a laugh. "That what you call those shitty ganger cosplayers?" Feral rage dances across his adversary's face, his feet abruptly frozen to the floor. "Ya know what's really funny? The real Ancients? They're LAUGHING at your dead brothers. They used you fucks as cannon fodder for years."

"You’re LYING!!"

"Why the fuck would I lie? They're all dead. All but one. One. Dumb. Fuck."

Faster than he can track the elf darts forward, shotgun barrel flush against Jordan's forehead. "You're the one looking dumb now, human," he snarls. Glancing down to the wilting girl in Jordan's arms, the snarl twists into a grin. "And I think soon it'll just be you and me."

"Naw, I don't think so. We're not stupid enough to travel alone."

The shot from Steve's pistol sounds through the garage from its place at the back of the elf's head. As Jordan had hoped, the sorry excuse for a thug hadn't heard his Armenian friend slip in through the back door. For a few heart stalling seconds nothing moves. Time resumes as the elf falls into a graceless heap, the bullet hole still smoking from his left brow.

But Jordan can't spare a thought for the dead with Ali still struggling for breath in his arms. "Steve!" His friend's face darkens before he disappears into the back… and returns, trauma patch in hand. Jordan's eyes widen, hesitating only a heartbeat before snatching it away from his friend. "Call Chuck," he orders, planting the patch beneath Ali's shirt. "We need him now."

"Already done."

"Go wait out front, make sure they find us." The darker man nods, already pulling up his commlink as he jogs back toward the Block's entrance. "You're gonna be fine," Jordan whispers, clutching Ali tighter with one hand while the other presses against the gaping wound in her stomach. Already he can feel the flow of blood ebbing as the trauma patch does its work. Whether it's going to be enough- "You're gonna be fine."

"J-Jordan?"

"Yeah?"

"Sor-r-y I yelled at y-you."

"Shut up. You were drunk. You yell at me all the time."

"Th-i-is is di-fferent. Y-you d-i-idn't know."

Her eyes keep dipping closed. But it's the limpness in her arms as the tremors slow that's scaring him. Jordan props his sister up against his shoulder, shaking her. "Hey, c'mon, wake up Sprog." A breathy murmur is the only reply. His mind races. He's gotta keep her awake. "What didn't I know, huh? ALISON!!" Her eyes snap open. "What didn't I know?"

"I was so s-scared," Ali whispers around shallow breaths. Her eyes are still open but wander unfocused in the space between them. Altered state of consciousness from blood loss the rational part of his brain chimes. "A-and a-angry. There w-ere s-so m-many of them! I j-just wa-anted to h-e-lp… And… Ferg… h-he-"

The garage door lifting startles Jordan. But with the bust of adrenaline comes half a dozen familiar figures silhouetted in the headlights of a van. Chuck is the first as he kneels beside the siblings, somber and grim, inspecting Ali with a knowing eye. "How long?" he mutters.

"I don't know. Fifteen, twenty minutes?" Ali is still murmuring in breathy whispers, utterly oblivious to them.

"Get her in the van."

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

She’s too damn pale. Sitting on the floor of the van, Ali still cradled against his chest, Jordan tries to reign in the fear coursing through him. In the few short minutes since he had moved her from The Engine Block’s floor to the rickety van it seems as if her breaths have slowed, the tremors in her arms having stopped altogether. Sometimes he’s sure she’s awake but it’s quickly followed by more incoherent mutters.

“Her pressure’s shit,” Chuck mutters from behind the scanning tool in his hand.

“What can I do?”

The grizzled old man begins hooking Ali to a medkit. “Keep pressure on her gut. Get her talking if you can.”

Jordan presses a little harder on her middle as he shifts and begins shaking the shoulder her head rests against. “You hear that Sprog? Head up, you gotta keep talkin.”

Ali’s eyelids lift, but only just. He’ll take it. “Jordan?”

“Yeah kid, I’m right here.”

“Did… did h-e get any… anyone… else?”

“What, you weren’t enough?” A smile he doesn’t feel pulls at his lips but her fragile breaths cause it to evaporate just as quickly. “No kiddo. Just you.” His baby sister manages another shallow inhale that seems to catch… before she stops moving altogether. For one horrifying moment Jordan can't understand, can't figure out why her eyes are open but she’s not… "Ali?"

"Shit!" the doc declares even as the doors of the van are thrown open but Jordan can't pull himself from the face of his sister, utterly still, her blood still hot and sticky on his hands, eyes open and unseeing. An orc wearing the clinic's emblem on his coat pulls Ali from his arms. Instinct overtakes him and Jordan fights to pull her back… only to find Chuck steadying him with a firm hand. "We've got her lad."

"No, she-"

"You kept her alive this long. We've got her."

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

Fergal pushes his bike harder, trying to get a little more out of the old girl if it'll just get him to the clinic faster.

Bloody FUCKING ANCIENTS!!

His first memory of Alison is clear as day: wee Sprog sitting in the bar with one project or another broke apart across the table. A spitfire, even then. Knowing that he had brought this hell down on her, on them, that the rising tides of his war might have drowned the youngest Merrick….

"The kid’ll live,” Fatback had uttered as they watched Jordan gingerly carry his sister to the van. “If not there’ll be hell on earth, that’s for sure.”

The biker had meant it as an observation, a statement of fact. But Fergal clings to it as an oath sworn in blood: if Alison Merrick dies no Ancient to step foot in front of him will survive.

Fergal and Fatback storm into the clinic to find Jordan pacing the waiting area, blood still clinging to his hands and clothes. It's not the red that makes Fergal's heart stutter. He's no stranger to blood. But the frantic, almost feral, expression tearing across Jordan's face is enough to hurt the old soldier. "They took her in the back," Jordan explains, his voice wavering.

“How’s it look?”

Jordan shakes his head. “She wasn’t breathing. Ferg…. I don't….”

“She’ll pull through. Lass would never let a shotgun get the better of her.” Jordan doesn’t reply, simply stares at the tile beneath his feet.

The door at the end of the hall opening to the sound of booted feet heralds the approach of the rest of their party. Jens and Steve flank Tim as the trio joins them. The troll's eyes find his twin, taking in the crimson stains, and Fergal feels his rage flare at the fear the brothers share.

"Any word?” Jordan shakes his head. “How bad is it?”

“Bad.”

Tim looks his twin in the eye, steadfast and terrified all in the same instant. “She gonna be okay?”

A confession Fergal knows Jordan could only make to his brother: “I don’t know Timmy.” **************************************************

Two hours later there's still no news. Jens glances up to where the twins alternate wearing holes in the floor. Must be Jordan's turn to pace because Timmy is the one sitting with his arms crossed, lips pressed into a firm line. The human brother fidgets on his feet, possessed by a fear Jens doesn't want to think about.

Opening the garage door, seeing blood on the concrete and Jordan's desperate gaze… she'd been alone. Ali had been alone on Jens' watch. Guilt worms freely though his gut. He’d known the Merricks long enough to remember their dad. Hell, Jordan and Timmy were better to him than his own. And to get that call, to raise the garage door and find Jordan kneeling on the crimson floor clutching his lifeless kid sister… In HIS shop. HIS garage.

Jordan stops at the window as a deep shuddering sigh heaves from his shoulders. Jens joins his friend, speaking in low tones. "I'm sure Doc will have something for us soon," he offers lamely, extending a cigarette to fill the void of his platitudes.

"I hope so. I'm fuckin losing it over here."

Jens pats his long time friend on the back. "I can't imagine. I…" Jens scowls. "Christ, I'm so sorry. If I hadn't left her there alone-"

But Jordan is shaking his head. "No. This isn't on you. I should've been watching her closer. I should've-"

"Jordan." Both men turned to Tim. "Don't. You can't watch her every minute. And if you tried she wouldn't let you."

"Yeah." The human twin doesn't sound convinced. His friend doesn't wear grief easily and to see both of the twins so raw… Jens silently vows to do whatever he can to get the twins through this, no matter what happens next-

The small side door opens to reveal Chuck as every eye levels on him. Jordan takes a few tentative steps as Timmy gets to his feet. "Hey, doc…?" Chuck looks up and for a moment Jens fears the worst. Don’t even fucking-

"She's alive." Relief blows through the room and for a second Jordan looks as if his legs will give out. “I won’t sweeten it for you lads: it’s bad. There’s a lot of damage, she lost a lot of blood.”

“But she’s okay.”

When the doc doesn’t answer right away Jens feels his stomach sink. “...let’s just see how the next few days go. We put her on a vent to keep her lungs workin. Lass just… doesn’t have enough to keep everythin runnin on her own.”

“Can we see her?”

“Aye. Thought you'd want to."

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

Edging into the small room, Jordan isn't sure what to expect. But his heart falls at the sight of his sister. His baby sister…

"When can I work on the bikes?"

"When you're big enough to reach the ground from the seat."

"Jordan! Tim pushed me off the bench!"

"Did you deserve it?"

"..... maybe."

"I don't feel good."

"C'mere kid…"

“I love you Jordan, please don’t leave…”

Ali lays swathed in white sheets. Her chest rises and falls in rhythm with the ventilator while a nest of tubes and monitors keeps her this side of death’s door. But the girl in the bed looks wrong. Her skin is white and bloodless, complexion the same as when she'd been dying on the garage floor, punctuated by deep bruises beneath closed eyes. When had he last seen her eyes open?

"Did he get anyone else?"

"Fuck Ali," Jordan breaths as he reaches the side of the bed.

Tim's heavy hand finds his shoulder. "She's alive,” his twin murmurs. Jordan isn’t sure who the reassurance is meant for. But he'll take it.

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

Four. Fucking. Days.

Four of the longest days of Jordan’s life finds Ali back at The Last Round. Still unconscious, still hooked to all manner of machines, but breathing on her own and stable enough that Chuck deems it safe to move her. There the twins can keep a close eye on her progress as their adopted family of bikers struggle to rebuild itself after the Ancients’ devastating reveal.

Jordan for one is happy for the distraction. He’s better when he’s moving, working… doing anything but sitting beside his still too pale comatose sister. He’s out with Fergal, negotiating for a few extra sets of hands, when his commlink begins to chirp.

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

While Tim and Weaver make a desperately needed supply run Jens offers to sit with Ali. Despite Jordan’s need to be busy the bigger twin had insisted a spare set of eyes rest on their sister until Chuck is more comfortable with her status. The girl hasn’t moved in four days despite the many meds and oxygen mask keeping her whole.

Jordan had tried to claim responsibility, but the guilt planted firmly in Jens’ gut tells him where the real blame rests. Because he’d left. He’d left her alone.

“Hey Sprog!” Ali rolled out from beneath her van, one hand full of bolts while the other gripped a wrench. “I’m headed back. You comin?”

She considered it. But something anxious crossed her face before she shook her head. “Naw, I'm gonna finish up first. I’ll be over in a few.”

“You want help?”

“Naw, it’ll just be a few minutes. Go ahead, I’ll catch up.”

She hadn’t though. He knows now that she had no intention of returning to the bar. Her hesitation, the amount of time she spent at the garage in the days prior, any excuse to stay out of Jordan’s vicinity. If only he’d waited a few minutes. If only he’d recognized sooner…

“Go back to the Round,” Fergal uttered to Jens and Steve as they watched Jordan gingerly carry his sister toward the makeshift ambulance. “Get Tim, bring him to the clinic.”

“What do we tell him?”

“Tell him she’s alive.”

Hardest thing he’d ever done. How the twins don’t blame him he doesn’t know. Watching over the youngest Merrick seems like the least that he can do. Idly browsing through the net on his commlink, it's impossible to focus. The motions are almost mechanical, fingers browsing without interest, eyes seeing without seeing… until a low huff sounds from the bed before him. Quickly he jumps to his feet, moving closer, and finds his charge awake, eyes wandering.

“Jens,” she breathes beneath the oxygen mask on her face.

“Yeah. Hey kid.”

A smile, small and weary as it is, appears in the corner of her mouth. “Hey.” Her voice is scarcely more than a whisper. Ali’s eyes roam the room before settling back on him. “Where’s…?”

“Tim went out for supplies. Told me to watch you. Jordan is out running around with Fergal and Fatback.” For a moment something shadows her gaze. Then, to his horror, she moves to sit up. “Oh, uh, no. Just… shit, just stay put. I’ll get the doc.” As he makes his way down to the bar he raises his commlink.

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

Jordan pushes his bike faster, Jens’ call still echoing in his ears.

“Hey. Listen, Ali’s awake.”

“What? Doc said-”

“Yeah I know but she’s awake and she’s asking for you guys. Tim’s a few hours out-”

“I’m on my way.”

When he passes through the door to The Last Round his feet lead them toward the safehouse almost without thought… to find a familiar gaze staring back at him. Still prone, still lying flat amongst a sea of tubes, but awake. All the breath leaves his lungs. Awake and alert after four days of cool white flesh. After watching her dying by inches in his arms…

“I just wanted to help…”

Jordan crosses the space between them and wraps his arm around the back of her head, pulling his brow against hers. “God dammit kid,” he whispers, his voice wavering around the looseness in his chest, “you can’t do this shit to me.”

Tears swim in her eyes. “Sorry.” But Jordan makes no move to withdraw, her hitched breaths and responsive expression more of a comfort than anything else could be.

“Everybody else okay?” she asks quietly, the words seeming labored beneath the hiss of the oxygen.

“Yeah Sprog. Everybody’s good.” The sound of Chuck clearing his throat sounds from the doorway. “I think the doc wants to have a look at you. But I’ll be right outside, okay?” Ali nods, her eyes beginning to droop. “Hey,” he brings her gaze back to him. “You’re staying close for a while, you hear me?”

“Yeah,” she whispers, though he recognizes the patronizing tone beneath the word. “I hear you."

[heapster-45]

Find the Word

Thanks for the tag @bumblerhizal-art. These excerpts are from my fanfiction “We Must be Killers”.

SPACE (From We Must Be Killers, Harry Potter)

Pleasant received another of Draco’s letters in the morning mail. She noticed it was slightly thicker than usual. He must have a lot to say this week.

The school day went by as normal, with Umbridge’s shrill announcements blasting through the castle at every passing period. She, Fred, and George had already attempted silencing charms on one of the speakers earlier that week, with no luck and earning themselves a detention. Before dinner, Pleasant found spare time to read the letter in the comfort of her dormitory. 

Sitting at her small desk, she cast aside a clutter of items to make space before she unfolded its contents. Inside was a charred piece of parchment, along with Draco’s standard letter.

“Revelio!” she cast, and words appeared on the page.

“🜚,

Hope you have been well. My role in the inquisition is going smoothly. I’ve earned my title of being the most loyal to the cause and am now considered a de facto captain of the squad. The toad is beginning to trust me enough to delegate more meaningful tasks to me. I will update you if anything else progresses.

In other news, Bishop and I have been going over the copies of Granger’s Muggle Studies notes occasionally. It’s been good for us to gather an understanding of Muggle history. And it’s interesting to see Hermione’s notes correcting errors in the field’s understanding. And the tone of voice she uses when note taking is much less annoying than in person.”

WANT (From “WMBK” Harry Potter)

“What are you afraid of, Pleasant?”

Pleasant found herself looking at her own feet as she spoke; not out of shame, but out of fear to see Gaynore’s response. “I think it means committing to something I’m unsure of. Taking a risk I’m not prepared for. Gaynore, you’ve done things that disgust me, done things to me that I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life…” Pleasant finally looked into Gaynore’s eyes and saw guilt. 

“But I want to be able to forgive you, because you deserve a chance to change.”

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Gaynore, what you’re asking of me, it means putting my faith and my trust in your honesty and your willingness to face accountability for your transgressions, no matter the reason for committing them. I have to believe you want this even more than I do. The risk I’m taking is believing you won’t go back on your word. That you won’t hurt me again.”

PASS (“WMBK” Harry Potter)

“When you finish your homework you can read or play outside for a bit, but I don’t want you skulking away to your room.”

“Are you gonna watch the telly?”

“Yeah….” Warren replied as he deliberated in his head. “You can watch with me when you’ve finished your assignments.”

Pleasant had never watched a television show before living with the Grangers. It was an exciting way to pass the time, and it filled her head with mindless cartoons depicting nonsensical problems and bright colors. She doubted that Mr. Granger would play cartoons when she joined him on the couch, but she would be entertained with whatever he put on. The sounds and pictures quelled her swimming thoughts.

DREAM (“WMBK” Harry Potter)

He’d developed a habit of wishing good dreams for her since discovering exactly what she’d been dealing with on a near nightly basis. 

Now all alone, Pleasant was unsure what to do with herself, not quite tired, but not wanting to talk to anyone or participate in anything. She ached for the days when Fred and George would rope her into some scheme and get her in trouble, at least then she had something to do, even if detention wasn’t exactly something to look forward to. 

Now she felt aimless. School didn’t matter, despite how much Hermione urged her to continue the effort. The only thing on her mind at most times was trying to stop the inevitable – Voldemort returning to full power and taking over the Wizarding World. She was at a loss on how to stop it. Dumbledore had refused yet again to let her in on his plans, and Snape was no help either.

Maybe McGonagall would have some idea on what to do. But she’ll probably tell me not to worry myself with it.

[seokahwrites]

NUISANCE | chapter 1 (or, human walls and steak fungi)

5.8k

back to nuisance masterlist

pairing.

| lawyer! jeon jungkook x lawyer! reader (feat. ex! kim taehyung)

summary.

| all you wished for was a relaxing two weeks in a big ass boat eating some big ass shrimps, away from the real world. but instead you’re stuck with your arch rival with no means of escape — and goddamit why does the bastard smell so good

tags.

| the spice has commenced; POUTY JUNGKOOK???; hunky jungkook?; jungkook?; jungkook in a suit; a LOT of jungkook; pouty reader; stressed out reader; use of the words dick and cooch; use of the word satan (to refer to kim seokjin ofc); KIM SEOKJIN IS THE REAL MAIN CHAR; poor joon is a victim; JUNGKOOK WEARING EARRINGS AND BRACELETS; taehyung is nice (?) (¿question mark?)

a/n.

| this writing was sponsored by red bull, alcohol and fantasies of casual jungkook as well as jungkook in a suit. also, jungkook’s smile is described as tight lipped bc his signature smile appearing is important to the story. also i wanna know y’all’s thoughts on tae. BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY THANK U FOR THE COTINUOUS SUPPORT AND LOVE, I WILL CONTINUE TO GIVE MY BEST AND THANK U FOR READING MY STORY <333

Having once spent a sleepless night reading Dante’s inferno, you were well aware of the fact that there are 9 layers of hell.

Though, it seemed the old man had forgotten about the tenth circle: Anywhere with Jeon Jungkook.

Since the first time you met him, you never had any reason to believe that he was a humble character. He had always looked at you from the top of his high horse and he took much pride in trotting on it.

As you, Jungkook and the receptionist wait for the elevator, the air thick with discomfort, you look at the man in front of you and remember that first time.

Your head is invaded with the memory of you in your Hello Kitty pajamas, adorned with grease and all, as you worked on a divorce case that causes you migraines to this day — love is a bitter bitch. It must’ve been past midnight when you and Jin were chewing away pizza slice after pizza slice at the office.

Then, there’s a knock at the door.

“If that’s Namjoon I’m literally going to fire you,” you bark at Jin as you hold his leftover crust on one hand and a document on the other.

And Jin, being the smart ass he is and knowing you wouldn’t survive a day without him, gets up from your leather couch without a word and opens the door, launching himself at none other than Kim Namjoon.

You roll your eyes at the love birds while wondering when the fuck their honeymoon phase was gonna end. You were so sick of them.

“Y/N,” Jin calls you from your desk, urging you to come to the door and once you’re beside him, this time with a cup of coke in your hands, “Can you keep them entertained for a bit? I just gotta grab Namjoon’s meds.”

Before you could say no, the little devil was already running off to his own cubicle, leaving you alone with the all familiar Namjoon and a very much not familiar stranger.

You lean on the doorframe without uttering a single word, sipping on your drink as well as the stranger — Sure, looking back at the moment you kinda just wanna punch yourself in the cooch and tell yourself to get a grip, but you weren’t blinded with hatred at the time, and also not blind — because it isn’t every night that a man clad in a charcoal suit and an unbuttoned shirt, comes knocking at your door; not to mention his watch dazzled under the artificial light and he held the blue tie in his hand with just the right grip.

You’re snapped out of your daze when the man goes from checking the time to whispering something in Namjoon’s ear, covering it the same way eight year olds cover their own secrets, and he laughs. This would all be good and well if he hadn’t looked at you with such appall in his eyes the moment before, the look still clear as day in your mind.

You're reminded that your makeup was probably smudged from all the times you had rubbed your eyes, your skin oily from the tiresome day and you were wearing Hello Kitty pajamas.

Maybe you shouldn’t have taken the insult so personally, but you did.

“I’m here,” Jin is back, a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder as the other one passes him a lunchbox of cold medicines, “What did I miss?”

At this you look up from the pitiful ground, pulling Jin back to your office, and accidentally spill (or throw) your coke at the stranger. You watch in delight as he looks at his very expensive looking suit drenched in a sticky brown, utter terror in his eyes, inhaling the wonderful moment for a second before shutting the door in his face.

The consequences of your actions: an almost two-year long rivalry with the stranger, revealed to be Jeon Jungkook moments after the incident when Jin asked, “Did you just throw your drink at Namjoon’s boss, you crazy bitch?”

And that wave has rippled to this day, in the form of insults and high-school level teasing (if his brain had even evolved to that age). The words “I’ll have you all to myself’ comes to mind; it makes you puff with exasperation. Sure it comes off a little flirty to unknowing ears, but it was just another reminder of Jungkook’s dismay — and that he had an all new access to torture you.

You attempt to shake the ick from your body, but in a trice you found yourself in front of the suite, the four floors you travelled to get there seemingly a glitch in time.

Isabelle scans the room card in front of the handle, handing it over to Jungkook after the green beep. “This is your room!”

You shove Jungkook aside, pulling your trolley as you enter. You had seen the pictures before, but seeing the grand room before your eyes in all of its shades of brown and gray dispersed throughout the walls and furniture, the intricate branch of lights in the ceiling and the panoramic ocean view that gave it its name; it made you forgot who you were sharing it with for a moment.

When you turn around, Jungkook is as wide eyed as you, and it makes the corners of your mouth lift ever so slightly because he looks like a fucking dork.

“Well,” Isabelle is smiling and you could sense her relief of not having to deal with the two of you anymore, “If you need anything, me and the rest of the Royal Sunrise team are available at all times, have fun!”

And just like that, she made her escape, leaving you and Jungkook standing in the middle of the room, alone.

For a moment you shut your eyes as hard as you can, scrunching your face with your fists up, in hopes that a miracle happens and Jungkook disappears. You have been having some odd dreams lately, maybe this was just—

Nope. He’s still there.

Since his eyes seem to have wandered too far, you call out his name to bring him back to earth, crossing your arms when his gaze lands on you, “We should probably talk about a few things.”

He drops the backpack from his back as he nods.

“First of all, the sleeping situation—“

“Yeah, I already thought of that,” he walks to the (very cramped) couch on the other side of the room and pats the armrest, “I’ll take this wonderful bed.”

You look at him with quizzical eyes, wondering how the hell was he of all people going to fit there. But it wasn’t really of your concern if he wanted to get scoliosis, he had made his decision.

“Plus, you need beauty sleep much more than me.”

What a waste of oxygen.

You shrug off his words, immune to his childish remarks at this point, “Okay, then. Next on the list, eating arrangements.”

At this point he’s picking up his things and placing them in his territory, “Why is that on the list?”

You move closer to the windows, a little excited when you see the balcony — you would use it to either push your roommate into the cold ocean or catch up on a few books, tough choice. “Because the tables are arranged by rooms.”

You felt the confusion in his eyes poking at your back, so you turn, “That means that we need to share a table for the next few days, dipshit.”

Jungkook shakes his body in agony, throwing a tiny tantrum, “Why is that even a thing?” He whined.

When you feel a headache coming, you grab your own luggage and place it on top of the bed, opening it up and digging in the pockets for a little bit of liquid luck. God knew you needed it.

You down the sample of Jack Daniels in one go with a bitter face and a blow of air.

“Really?”

You start picking out your pajamas for the night, “I was saving it for when I’d find a hot stranger by the pool but—,” when you look up and see the mess on Jungkook’s couch, you’re taken aback, “What in the world is that?”

Jungkook’s hands are rummaging through the jungle that were his things, and it’s obvious that he just shoved as many clothes as he could find lying around the house. He grabs hold of a white tee, “What?”

Again, a waste of—

“WOAH, WOAH, WOAH.”

In the roll of an eye Jungkook’s torso is fully exposed, his back turned towards you with all of its bumps and mumps looking right at you. And you only become aware that you are staring when Jungkook notices the lack of a comeback, pointing it out with a smug tone.

“Y/N,” he doesn’t turn but he snaps you out of your stunned state all the same, “I can practically hear you drooling.”

At the very next instant you cover your eyes, just as little kids do when an inappropriate scene comes on the TV. “You wish, jackass,” and it comes off a little shoutier than you expected, as if the lack of visual correlated with the volume of your voice. Blindly, you grab your shirt and shorts from the bed and run to the bathroom, which just had to be on Jungkook’s side of the room.

And things take a turn for the worse when you run into something, and that something is warm and firm and breathing.

“Uh—.”

Pain.

You convince yourself it was just an invisible, Jungkook shaped wall they failed to mention on the website and fling yourself to the bathroom door, finding the handle rather quickly from all the adrenaline.

Once you’ve slammed the door shut, you let your back slide against the wooden slab and your ass hit the marble floor.

The clothes are still in your grip, your left hand feeling your overheating cheeks and for a tick you think that maybe, just maybe, you should throw yourself into the water and let the sharks take you so you could be buried at the very depths of the ocean. It seemed like a better fate than whatever the fuck was awaiting you the next two weeks.

You take a deep breath in, letting your mind focus on something else.

You look around and, oh, wow. Even the bathroom was charming — if you could ignore the absurd amount of windows, any sea creature passing by would surely see more than they should — glass making up all of the walls, including the shower’s.

The exposure that surrounds you, in its own weird way, cleared up your head the tiniest bit and for the first time since you’ve arrived, you were able to think, only the ocean and its blue around you now.

And what would be your first course of action after a glimpse of clarity?

Calling that rat bastard assistant of yours, of course.

You stand up and place your phone atop the hazel counter after clicking contact name ‘Twinky’, out of fear you’d smash the damn thing when you hear his voice, smoke was bursting at the seams of your chest. Prepare to meet your end, Kim Seokjin—

“Good evening, Ms. Y/N. For what reason are you contacting me in the midst of your vacation?”

Breathe in, breathe out. “Don’t get all formal with me, Kim,” you’re wagging your finger to no one, “I know you did something. Confess.”

The obnoxious twirling of Jin’s chair could be heard through the speaker, “I’ve no idea of what you could possibly be talking about, Madam—“

“Confess.”

“Fine, fine,” you could picture Jin putting his hands up at your murderous tone, “Me and Joon just thought it was about time you two kids got together.”

You take a pause from your pacing around. Motherfucker.

“Okay! I thought it was time and convinced Namjoon to go along with it,” your fist meets the counter with an audible thump, and you were seethed at the probability of Jin smiling at your behaviour. “Speaking of it, how’s it going?”

“Well, Jin,” you place the microphone as near to your mouth as possible, “JEON JUNGKOOK IS TAKING OFF HIS CLOTHES IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING ROOM,” you put on a docile face and naturally assume that Jin could see you telepathically, “So you tell me how it’s going.”

For the first time since you hired him, you had left Jin speechless. Or so you thought.

“I didn’t know you would move this fast—“

“Jin.”

“I apologise, I apologise,” the witch cackles, “But you didn’t give me any context, I only assumed the best.”

“Spare me from your taunts, you hag,” you huff and roll your eyes, “And, as I’ve told you many times before, Jeon Jungkook is literally the worst. I hate—.”

“—him. Yes, Y/N, I’ve been hearing the same speech every single day for two years,” you could hear Jin walking back and forth before an abrupt pause, “Listen to yourself, Y/N, you brought this upon yourself. Whenever you saw or just remembered Jungkook existed you wouldn’t stop talking about him. So, being the good friend I am, I handed you his—,” you rush in a failed attempt to muffle his next words with your hand, “—dick on a silver platter.”

Oh, dear lord.

“You’re out of your mind if you think I wanna be anywhere near Jungkook’s—,” you speak in a hushed tone, “—thing.”

“See, you can’t even say it,” and you give up, because no matter how many times you denied it, Jin never let up. “Anyway, I gotta go and… take a call. Have fun!”

And he hangs up.

All you can do is groan, making a mental note that you oughta kick Jin in the balls one of these days, and you look at yourself in the mirror — you couldn’t even enjoy your tacky shirt because of him. Was a normal vacation really too much to ask for?

You remember that the universe had already answered your question with a big yes, and you can’t help but pout.

Still, ever the changing mind, were you really going to let the universe win?

Your pout turns into a smirk. Of course, you weren’t. All you needed to do was avoid Jungkook as much as possible, that would be easy for sure, you were on a gigantic cruise ship after all.

Yeah, this can still be great.

And so, quick to think as always, you grab your phone and scroll through the Royal Sunrise website.

To your luck, the cruise offered classes and activities of all types with a different theme each day — tomorrow is cooking. Not only was it going to be actually entertaining, you could avoid Jungkook without having to look behind you every other minute.

Genius.

With this new mindset and plan, you change into your oversized navy shirt and banana-printed shorts, a newfound excitement in your step. You even bang your chest with each of your fists, a gorilla-esque fighting technique if you shall, as a way to pump you up.

The door doesn’t seem as intimidating when you push it open, your arms swinging at your side as if you were one of the seven dwarves. This was good.

Immediately you're met with the vexing view of Jungkook, and you quirk your eyes when you notice that all he was wearing was a pair of gray shorts and that white tee, the oddity of it all iffy in your head since you’ve only ever seen him in suits and shirts. There’s a familiar tingling of (what you always assumed was) contempt in your fingertips and toes, one that would only ever occur with Jungkook. Hatred finds a way, huh.

He looks at you, back to his phone and back to you all in one second, and once his brain processes that you’re back and present, he ditches his phone and props himself up on one elbow. “You know the walls aren’t that thick, right?”

The tingle turns into a twitch and you almost hit yourself. Breathe, Y/N.

Jungkook sits up, crossing his arms, his eyes wandering once again, “I knew that Namjoon was planning something. He was sweating so much, I thought it was just the heat,” and they land back on you, “Turns out, it was betrayal.”

You head to your own king-sized resting place and a chuckle slips out of you at Jungkook’s little remark. “You did hear that Jin was the one who dragged him into this, right?”

You’re both pulling your covers over your bodies with silent grins due to the dumbassery of your assistants, “I assumed as much.” At this, your smiles become full-out laughs and your heads must have been too exhausted to dwell on the out of character situation.

It fades after a few seconds and you take one final look at Jungkook before turning off the lights, only to make sure he was already laid down.

Your anxiety comes back to the surface, your eyes staring blankly ahead at the ceiling.

“What a mess,” you don’t even notice you had blurted it out loud.

The rustling of sheets sounds through the otherwise cricket-silent room, “Tell me about it.”

Another chuckle.

“Jungkook,” you call him, the words coming out with no warning, “Can we just promise, no monkey business? I just really wanna relax and—.”

“Y/N,” he stops you before you could yap any further, “No monkey business.”

His interruption makes you sheepish, that tingle coming back as you fiddle with the sheets.

All of the sudden, “Good night, Y/N.”

Silence.

“Don’t be a killjoy.”

Groan. There really isn’t any reason for you to answer the prick. Still, you roll your eyes, “Good night, you troll.”

You hear his pleased sigh.

“Kinda bummed you don’t want my thing, though.”

Damn you, Kim Seokjin.

Your eyes flutter open, not with the calming sound of the dancing waves or the rustling of the sheets beside you from a happy hour mistake, no. You wake up with the sound of the shower running, the drip drop of the water meeting the glass floor of the bathroom.

The walls are very thin.

The image of a very naked Jungkook just next door is forced into your head, and you try to get rid of it by putting a pillow over your face, in hopes that it would put an end to your misery, but the world only gives a hundred problems and zero solutions.

Sat up, you remind yourself of the fresh-new mindset you had implemented yesterday, and this motivates you to restart your morning right and get dressed for the busy day ahead.

You squat down to your bag, grabbing the first jumpsuit and shoes in front of you, surprisingly not too shabby. The black off-shoulder fabric was adorned with pale pink flowers and your basic white sneakers didn’t add much but they were still a welcome fit — you’d only brought three pairs of shoes, so you didn’t really have much of a choice.

The background noise of the shower running disappears.

Shit.

You stumble around the room, trying to switch out of your clothes as fast as you possibly could to avoid any of yesterday’s incidents repeating, the need of any sort of grooming forgotten along the way. Still, you succeeded, and just as Jungkook unlocked the bathroom door, you were out of the room.

The joy in your step was back as you took the few steps needed to the elevators, pressing that little button of victory. Though you’ve been to countless luxury premises, the details of each place still managed to leave you awestruck, and the black railing and golden walls of the ship with decoration clearly inspired by the Romans, weren’t an exception.

The elevator was going from the sixth floor to the fifth when you heard a door open, the hairs of your back standing up out of instinct.

“Wait up!”

Fuck me.

You turn to the left, met with the, once again, odd view of Jeon Jungkook wearing casual clothes, this time in a charcoal shirt a few sizes too big, black cargo pants and signature chunky shoes. But, there’s something even more strange and you can’t quite put a finger to it, it isn’t the fact his lavish watch was replaced with leather braids on his wrist or that his hairs strayed a bit more wildly, it’s—

“Holy shit,” your eyes shoot wide open, “Are those hoops?”

Your hands almost go to touch the silver in his ears, but you remind yourself you’d probably turn to stone.

An unfamiliar red paints Jungkook’s face as his own fingers prod at the earrings, his eyes not meeting yours, “Maybe.”

A gasp. “How did I never notice,” you state more than ask, but Jungkook answers all the same.

“I mean, I never wear them to anything work-related because keeping a professional image and all of that,” he looks at you, his bashfulness fading into an all-knowing smile, “And those are the only times I see your bitter face.”

You scoff, “Wow, actually we talked like normal people for a whole thirty seconds.”

The imp has the audacity to laugh at your face, the way he stops to scan you up and down going unnoticed by your sight. “I gotta say, Y/N, you actually know how to dress—“

Ding.

The black tinted doors open to the glass elevator, a panorama of all the ship’s floors in full display, blue and purple lights reflecting on the gilded ornaments. Your hands rest on the black railing and you don’t even notice there’s another person in the elevator.

“Y/N?” The deep timbre of the voice is all too easy on your ears.

A slight turn to the right is all it takes to see him, fluffy ash hair (that was rough between your fingers from all the times he had dyed it), a shirt that flowed like the clouds and beige slacks that matched with the sepia of his sandals (an ensemble that contrasted the vibrant version of him in your memory). But that square grin was still the same.

“Tae?” You laugh in utter disbelief, “Kim Taehyung?”

“Come here!” His long arms bring you into a hug and with your head nuzzled against his chest, his heartbeat echoed good times, easier times that weren’t filled with paperwork and suits.

It’s interrupted by your forgotten acquaintance clearing his throat.

You pull away, recomposing yourself as you stand beside Taehyung, “Jungkook, this is Kim Taehyung,” you feel Taehyung’s eyes on you, “He was kind of my college boyfriend.”

They shake hands and look back at you, as if waiting for something.

“Uh— Right. Tae, this is Jungkook, my—,” you glance at the brunet to find the right words, “—co-worker, of sorts.”

Your embarrassment only deepens when you remember that the Jeon Jungkook was a first-hand witness to the mess you were melting into in front of your ex-boyfriend.

Who needed caffeine when shit like this kept happening to you.

“Oh,” Taehyung’s voice drops an octave as he shoves his hands in his pockets, “So you two came together?”

And you wave your arms around to signal a ‘no’, but it comes off as ‘that-one-crackhead-at-the-corner-of-the-street-ish” instead. “God, no,” you snort, much to your chagrin.

Taehyung sticks his tongue between his teeth, staring down at Jungkook who was chewing on his own bottom lip, “That’s good to hear.”

It seems you’ve regressed to your college-self, tucking your hair behind your ear with blushed cheeks at your senior.

Ding.

The elevator had arrived at the first floor, Jungkook’s cue to leave.

But he doesn’t make a straight itinerary, instead standing in front of the elevator, “Aren’t you gonna catch breakfast, chump?”

Ah, right. Your genius plan could finally come out in the open, “No, actually. I have an all-day cooking class on the 5th floor.”

“No kidding,” Taehyung turns to you and places a hand on your bare shoulder with a wide smile, “Me too!”

At this, Jungkook’s shoulders slump and his expression falls flat, but you couldn’t get a word in as the elevator doors closed and he swiveled away to his own day.

Eh, it’s not like it was your affair anyways. Plus, 9AM wasn’t the hour to deal with his bullshit.

You and Taehyung made your way up, speaking of all the things you’ve been up to for the past three years.

“So, Jimin’s dancing in Europe,” you gasp, a swell of pride in your chest, your old friend would talk about it every free night he spent in yours and Taehyung’s flat.

“Yeah, now I don’t know who’s keeping an eye on all the dumb shit he does.”

The weight on your shoulders only got lighter with every laugh you shared with Taehyung, sweet nostalgia.

“We’re here,” you point at the chalk sign, the words ‘Bon Appetit’ scribbled on it.

Out of sheer intuition, you pull Taehyung by the wrist until you reach the entrance, a Royal Sunrise worker awaiting with a list of, what could only be, the names of the participants.

You let go of Taehyung when the man’s eyes travel to your holding hands. Oh, God.

He smiles, “Good morning, Mr. and Ms. What would your names be?”

“Good morning, I’m Y/N Y/LN,” your smile hadn’t left your face, “I signed up yesterday.”

He nods and you walk inside, Taehyung following you before the worker puts up a hand to stop him.

“Your name, sir,” his tone changes..

You look back, wondering what the fuss was about.

“Uh— Kim Taehyung.”

The man reads over the clipboard, even flipping to the previous pages. “Excuse me, Mr. Kim. But your name doesn’t seem to be in the—.”

Taehyung’s calm demeanour becomes a bitter scowl as he pats a fifty dollar note down the man’s pocket before he could continue his speech. “Just let this one slide, buddy.”

The sight is a bit rough on the eyes and the corners of your lips turn downwards, something itching at your throat, but you hadn’t seen him in a long time and he most likely had good intentions with the man, you could let it slide, right?

“So,” Taehyung rubs his hands with a smile that reaches the pillows of his eyes, a 360° from the him you saw a few seconds ago, “Where were we?”

The blue of the sky had faded into a deep lilac once you and Taehyung were finished with your last batch of food.

You stood outside with smiles plastered on your faces and flour sprinkled on your hair, reminders of a day well-spent.

“This was great,” you held boxes of chocolate crepes and mushroom pasta, “Except for the fact I was forced to eat and deal with mushrooms.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows pull together, “So many years together, and I didn’t know you hated mushrooms,” you remember telling him countless times, but he never had the best memory — you don’t bother to bring up your hatred for crepes. “But, yeah… I think it was the company that sealed the deal, though.”

A beat of silence. The boy was smooth as ever.

You’re the first to break it. “I guess I’ll go get dinner then.”

“Right, right,” he purses his lips, “I’m gonna catch a nightcap, too full for food anyways. See you, Y/N.”

And you only mumble a small goodbye before you and Taehyung are going different directions.

A day well spent indeed.

Grumble.

You couldn’t keep it in anymore.

Holy Moses, were you hungry as shit. Who knew that barely eating breakfast and lunch could do this to a person.

Once the coast is clear, you run to the elevator, pressing the button repeatedly because why is this thing so fucking slow.

The time taken to go down to the first floor is even more agonising, but you just imagined the wonderful meals that actually tasted like food waiting for you downstairs. You could feel the pork melting in your mouth already.

Ding.

Since the first floor is more packed, you pace yourself as you power-walk to the dining area but you arrive in no time, walking through the tables and scanning each marker for the number 83, until you finally find your salvation — and the mop of brown hair sitting there with its unmistakable silver.

You park your ass on the wooden chair and place the white boxes of gag-worthy food on the table.

“Fancy meeting you here, Y/N,” Jungkook shoves a fork of rare steak and potatoes in his big mouth.

“Don’t antagonise me, Jungkook,” you leap to grab his wrist before he can get another scoop, “Where’s the food?”

You feel him tense under your grip, “Okay, let go of me, hungry hungry hippo,” you loosen your fist and lean back on your chair with crossed arms, “And the restaurant is out of steaks for the night, your only other option is some fried fish or something,” he continues munching.

“No—,” your head meets the table with a bang, “—I’ve been dreaming of red meat all day.”

“Didn’t you cook at— you know, cooking class?”

“Yes, we did,” you sit up and shove the boxes of trash to Jungkook as he examines them.

“But, you hate mushrooms and crepes,” he turns his head in a robotic motion when he opens the lids.

Your hunger fades for a bit as that tingle in your fingertips pushes you to sit straight, leaning your head like a curious puppy.

“How do you know that?”

Jungkook bites his bottom lip as he seems to think of a response. “Well, you mentioned it at the Law & Practice Awards a few months ago,” he rubs his fingers on his chin with a feign look of concentration, “I believe your exact words were: ‘Why does the stake have fungus on it’ and ‘Everybody knows that crepes are just a—.”

“—a cheap version of pancakes,” you finish his sentence with surprise painted on your face. Still, you question him, “But, how do you even remember that?”

Jungkook’s flush is back on his cheeks, “As they say, keep your friends close,” he flashes that tight lipped smile of his, “And your enemies closer.”

Just as you were about to flip the fucker off, your stomach grumbles. Out of all of the moments it could’ve complained, it decided to do so in the only second of silence.

Jungkook mumbled something along the lines of “That’s it,” under his breath and let out a sharp exhale, cutting up his steak and taters and pushing them into a smaller plate, adding a few greens in the mix. He snaps his fingers at the nearest waiter and grabs a glass of wine from his tray. The act finishes off with him pushing the food in your direction.

You stare at the food, at Jungkook and back at the plate again. Dumbfounded, once again.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Eat,” he continues on with his dinner as if he hadn’t just done— Well, what he just did.

You bite your lip and bow your head slightly, though you’re sure he doesn’t see it, before vacuuming the food directly into your belly.

The rest of the evening is spent in comfortable silence, no daggers threatened to be thrown or scorn weighing in the air. This lasts all the way to the door of the room; you were fine with communicating with only ‘hums’ and nods but Jungkook, as always, had to ruin things.

He leans his back against the white door, arms crossed and a smirk as he looks down at you. “How lucky of you to have your mortal enemy and—,” he puts up air quotes, “‘kind of college boyfriend’ in the same boat as you, huh?”

You palm your face and hide a sheepish smile, “I was hoping you’d forget about that.”

“How could I when I was your special guest to first hand embarrassment in the elevator,” he waves the white flag of peace as he puts his hands up, “But, hey—“

“Hi, Jungkook,” someone behind you purrs, heels clacking.

You turn around and see a woman of jet-black hair in a stunning red silk dress, the pony-tail on her head swinging a delicate left to right as she waved her manicured hand at none other than Jungkook — who brushes a hand through his hair before complimenting her greeting.

It takes you by surprise, though you laughed at Jungkook’s gnarly stance at the beautiful woman, the tingle comes back, this time prickling at the pit of your stomach.

As soon as she had walked away, you rubbed your hands at the sides of your arms, “Wow, Jungkook. Moving fast are we?” you squint your eyes, “I think it’s the earring.”

“First of all, screw you,” he unlocks the door, “Second, that’s nothing, trust me.”

He holds the door open for you and you catch a whiff of his black vanilla scent. You stop in your tracks and place a hand on his shoulder with a grimace on your face, “Just don’t do anything on my bed, okay?”

You don’t bother to wait for an answer as you head to the bathroom with your comfy tee in your hands.

This time, the counter was embellished with skincare and cologne galore, all thanks to your dear roommate.

“He wouldn’t notice if I used some of this, right?” You say to Jungkook’s bottle of cleanser, too lazy to go back and grab your own toiletries.

“If you use that I’m drowning myself,” you hear him shout from the other room.

Sorry, face. You’ll have to wait for tomorrow.

Once you were snug in your tee, you were off to bed — Jungkook in the same attire as yesterday as well.

You leave the lamp on as you checked your phone for the first time since yesterday. Of course, Jin was your only notification, a plethora of obscenities and questions that would, unfortunately, be permanently ingrained in your mind forever. You turn off your phone and throw it on top of the night stand.

Not today, satan.

“You mind?” You ask Jungkook who seemed to be scrolling away, too engrossed in his phone to look at your finger pointing at the light, only a grunt on his behalf.

You turn it off and shut your eyes, your body tense, not that you weren’t used to it, the decaying muscles of your back have been like that since you graduated high-school. And, it was a bit more intense from all the mixing and pot handling — thank the heavens that tomorrow’s activities involved massaging. Though, today was a win.

Jungkook’s phone turns off and his body sloshes around, the sounds he makes the only ones reverberating in the room.

“Good night, Y/N,” you try to ignore him, but he comes forward with a good case, “Come on, I gave you my food.”

Guilt tripper.

“Fine, but only because you’re annoying as shit,” he lets out a satisfied breath, “Good night, Jungkook.”

You arrive at dreamland in no time.

taglist. (open)

| @fangirl125reader / @vantxx95 / @jinpanman / @ggukkieland / @miniiimee / @paizthemaiz

[90stvshowgoth]

— BREAKING & ENTERING

—ch.1 —ch.2

summary: dabi is on the run from the cops when you just happened to leave your window open.

tags: drunk sex, creampie, overstimulation, dubcon but not really,

wc: 6729

a/n: this is my first dabi fanfic so i’m worried i might’ve made him a bit too ooc but tbh i don’t care. soft dabi is what i want and soft dabi is what i will get. huge thanks by the way to @a-monsters-love who beta read this story and made it a lot less sucky!

my requests are open by the way!

What woke you wasn’t the explosions or the screams, but the sirens. The mechanical moans echoed through the streets of Musutafu, and that sound pulled you up out of bed, looking out your window in a bleary state of half-asleep fear.

‘What was going on?’ Goosebumps ran up your arms as you peered out your alleyway view window, overlooking the fire escape to the siren that had recently been installed in your neighborhood a few months back. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you tried to recall when the Pro Hero Association had brought it, and that same chill sank to your bones as you remembered just what they were for.

A villain had attacked the prefecture. A dangerous one.

You tried to calm your breathing, slowly walking backwards from the window to think rationally about the situation.

‘There’s no reason for somebody to attack a random apartment building, they’re off fighting heroes,’ The reasonable side of your brain said.

Despite that the siren was still wailing across town and it began to set you on edge. You certainly weren’t falling back asleep any time soon. If you couldn’t go back to bed you thought you’d might as well make some tea to calm your frigid nerves. You smiled when you saw your well-loved cardigan hanging next to the door and hugged it close, otherwise wearing nothing but your bra and leggings.

When you stepped into the main room you breathed in the warm scent of the candle that you’d accidentally left burning. Cursing yourself for your lack of fire safety, you shrugged and used the wick to light your path to the counter. After filling up the kettle under the sink you left it under the lit stove to boil, taking a moment to admire how the burner’s low flames were almost purely blue.

From here you could see the small television beside the couch and with a press of a button it came to life before you. The harsh glare made your eyes wince before they adjusted to the unfriendly light.

You were drawn to the red index near the corner that blinked the words ‘breaking news.’ This made your sleep-addled brain finally connect the dots between the sirens and the reporter. The screen cut to a newsman outside of what used to be a ten-story building when all that remained was a smoking husk. Hesitantly, you increased the volume to hear what happened.

“—before fleeing the scene. We have reports that say the hero fighting him was put into critical condition following the attack, and is currently being taken to the hospital. A video was taken by a nearby woman who sent it to the authorities. We believe this clip to be of the suspects,” the journalist paused, and a low-quality film began to play. Whoever was recording had badly shaking hands so It was difficult to make out. Your eyes widened at the sight of the building you walked by every day for work, the Shishido hero agency, razed by a torrent of blue wildfire.

Escaping from the crumbling building were four or so figures, too far away to see with any accuracy, but each had an unmistakeable silhouette. The League of Villains.

They were something of a modern socratic dialogue. Whenever someone brought up their name or the hero killer Stain’s it was always just to be a contrarian towards whoever was on the opposing side. Fanatical opinions would spark heated arguments online but you tried to keep your thoughts to yourself.

Although, if you’d have to pick a side, you would choose the League’s. After Stain’s video had spread through Japan you dug deeper into the shady histories of some of the Commission’s most well-respected heroes. Whatever standard you held those pros to crumbled into dust under miles of ‘collateral damage,’ and omitted crimes that were swept under the rug by police. So when the faces of the league went up on the screen you couldn’t help but smile at their victory.

The whistle of the kettle pulled you from the television. You rushed to take it off the stove before it could get any louder, and routinely began to fix the tea just the way you like it. You hummed, smiling as the first sip of the warm brew spread down your body, fending off the cold.

You threw the remote onto the couch that sat across from the small kitchen. Moving back to your bedroom and getting cozy with the tea, you reveled in the way that the mug loosened the frozen joints of your fingers. But before you could relax and block out the sirens with some music, you noticed another chill rush through the small room. Groaning over-dramatically, you set the tea down to retrieve another blanket from your pile; but your eyes widened when you tracked down the source of the cold.

Your window was open.

That caught you off guard. You were absolutely sure you closed it before bed knowing how low the temperatures would drop, though with growing panic you noticed how you specifically don’t remember locking it. There’s only two ways it could’ve been open now. Either you simply misremembered earlier that night and forgot to close it...

Or someone else broke in.

The tea’s warmth was long forgotten as you reached shaking hands to close the window. But before you could slide the panel shut a calloused hand clawed itself around your mouth so you couldn’t scream.

Fear gripped your lungs as you struggled to breathe, thrashing desperately against the second arm your assailant had snaked over your waist to keep you still. Your leg banged painfully on the side of the windowsill as you struggled but it didn’t deter you from opening your mouth wide enough to bite down on the attacker’s hand.

“Fuck!” He cursed when your teeth drew blood around his thumb and practically threw you to the ground. As you were about to use your newfound freedom to scream for help, the man lunged towards you with one outstretched hand.

His flesh was suddenly engulfed in a hissing blue fire and you winced at the wave of heat that flared so close to your face. From here you could easily make out the assailant’s features from the illuminating glow of his flames.

He had deep scars circled under his eyes using what looked like piercings to hold the tattered skin together. His lips quirked after realizing he’d caught you for good, making his charred skin pull against the metal in his cheekbones. Panic hadn’t altered your memory, you knew exactly who was standing over you. Dabi of the League of Villains.

Before either of you could make another move someone banged on the front door. You turned to look towards the sound but the heat close to your reddening throat kept you from doing anything stupid.

“Ma’am this is the police, open the door.” You and Dabi stared at each other from the implications and you could already see a plan forming behind his eyes.

He leaned far too close, keeping his lit hand still hovering over your neck as he whispered his words into your ear, “Listen to me nice and close, doll,” you couldn’t bring yourself to breathe underneath the searing tension. “You’re gonna answer that door. You’re gonna smile and say that nobody’s home. And if you give away fuckin’ anything,” Dabi’s flames somehow stoked themselves, the heat so intense that your teardrops evaporated before they could leave your eyes, “I’ll set your hair on fire first. So you can feel your brain cooking.” He spoke with a dripping malice that made your blood run cold despite the flames creeping up his arm. You nodded, too terrified to form words as he pushed forward; telling you to get up.

The brief walk from your bedroom to the front door had never felt so long. Your legs felt like the static emanating from the television, all shaky and unstable. Once your hands curled around the handle you decided not to spare a glance back.

‘What do I do?’ You didn’t want to die, at least not by immolation of all things, so you’d have to play along. You cupped your feverish face in your hands and took an unsteady breath. ‘As long as I can fool these cops, I’ll be fine. I can do this,’ At least, you hoped.

Opening the door caused the hallway’s lights to flood through your darkened doorway. Once your eyes flinched with discomfort you saw the unmistakeable uniforms of two police officers, both middle-aged and looking much more disinterested than you would’ve thought.

“Is there a problem?” You could lie smoothly enough but your voice was still feeble from Dabi’s strain on your neck.

The one who had called out earlier answered your question, “A member of the League of Villains was seen climbing in through a window to this apartment building, but the witness didn’t remember exactly which floor or room. Is anyone else with you?”

You feigned confusion, going so far with the act as to tilt your head slightly to the side. “No, I’m sure I’m alone, sir.”

At that moment a painfully loud squeak echoed from your bedroom and your eyes widened at the audible gap in your story. There was a loose floorboard right beside your bookshelf that creaked under even the slightest weight. You’ve learned to avoid it over time but Dabi had no idea.

That bored expression on the cop’s face shifted and you scrambled to come up with a explanation. “I thought you said you lived alone?”

An idea popped straight from your brain to your mouth, “My cat! His name is—“ you thought of the old, lovable house-cat your family had kept while growing up, “Byron. He like to get into my plants.”

“...Alright then, Ma’am, just keep yourself safe.” It seemed to just barely convince them.

You almost couldn’t fight back the elation as you waved off the oblivious pair, heeding their words by locking the door behind them in a rush. Pressing your back against the wood, you tried to settle the adrenaline pounding through your chest. Unfortunately as soon as you started to calm down, Dabi strode from the bedroom with a curious look in his eyes.

“Not bad, lady. Didn’t think you’d give it your all like that,” he must’ve kicked himself for making that noise and thought you would’ve used it as a way to give him up, “especially for a villain like me.”

The tension in the air had noticeably lessened, and you started to think you had a good shot at surviving the night. “I mean, I didn’t want them to find you either.”

Dabi paced around the living room, turning on one of your floor lights in his path towards the couch, “And why’s that?” He asked, flopping unceremoniously onto the secondhand loveseat.

Sure, you were still half pissed at the guy for breaking into your apartment and threatening to kill you, but it was clear that everything he did wasn’t personal. He just needed to escape from the police, but since they were gone what would happen now?

“Because...” you wanted to find the right words to convince him, “because I hate heroes too.”

Under the dim glow of the lamp you caught a glimpse of a half-handsome smile from that answer. Now that there was none of the malice from before you could appreciate just what he looked like under the warm lighting. Especially his eyes, which turned out to be a truly stunning shade of blue.

He kicked his feet onto your coffee table and patted the seat next to him. You’d have to deal with whatever dirt or soot he’d tracked inside tomorrow morning, but for now you found yourself accepting his invitation.

“Lucky me, huh?” Dabi asked rhetorically, and you found yourself almost smiling back at him. The couch was still cold underneath you but you painfully realized that Dabi was emanating heat like a goddamn generator.

‘It must’ve been from his quirk.’ you thought bitterly, shivering despite yourself.

Dabi drew a pack of Newports from his coat pocket and slid a cigarette out with his teeth. Instead of using a lighter a thin blue flame ignited on his index finger. He held it to the tip and drew in a deep lungful of smoke.

“So, what’s your deal, anyways? You got a thing for villains or something?” He wondered out-loud, teasing another blush onto your face as you shook your head.

“No, I just— I mean not like that,” From the look on his grafted face you could tell he wasn’t convinced. “The Hero Commission is corrupt, I agree with the league on that at least. Stain’s video kinda affected me, you know?”

Another small grin graced his lips and a small part of you decided that you wanted to see that expression more often, “What’s your name, doll?”

The question put you at ease; When he repeated it back, rolling the syllables over his tongue, you couldn’t wait to hear him say it again. Wordlessly, he extended his hand towards you, offering the lit cigarette between his fingers. When you took it all you could focus on was how warm his hands felt against yours for those brief seconds.

Wisps of smoke danced in the air as you inhaled, coughing a bit after the dry tang started to sting the back of your mouth. He smirked at your reaction before taking the cheap cigar from your fingertips.

Dabi saw the remote you left laying on the couch and mindlessly turned on the TV across from you. The news station was once again playing, this time an interview with one of the heroes who fought at the scene. This hero in particular was an older man with a receding hairline and an honestly ridiculous outfit that looked somewhere between a scuba diver and a 70s golden-age comic book character.

Beside you, Dabi groaned at the sight of him, “This fuckin’ guy...”

“Were you the one that fought him?” He nodded without breaking his attention from the screen.

“His quirk was such a pain to deal with. He controlled all the oxygen in the room— made it hard to set his ass on fire.”

There were a surprising lack of injuries on Dabi as far as you could see, aside from a few scrapes alongside the bruised scars that crawled below his loose shirt. You couldn’t help but wonder how far down they went, but quickly turned your attention back to the screen to ignore those ideas. The hero he fought looked far worse for wear, skin marred with fresh burns that singed holes into the costume; His legs shaking similarly to how yours were just fifteen minutes ago. Dabi seemed to have that effect on people.

Before you could ask him how he’d won his fight he was off the couch and walking towards the kitchen. He casually searched through your apartment with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

You sighed, a bit annoyed at how he helped himself to your fridge, “Dabi, if you’d tell me what you’re looking for I could show you.”

“Nah, already found what I wanted.” He dug open one of the drawers and smirked as he pulled a chill bottle of wine from the fridge.

Dabi tracked down two nearby glasses and a corkscrew before returning to your side and started to twist the metal tip into the pliant seal. It pulled loose with a soft pop and he filled each of your cups with the cherry wine you had been saving for a special occasion.

As you raised the rim to your lips and breathed in the fermented smell you paused. Were you really about to drink wine with a villain? A wanted criminal who broke into your apartment? His hand had been around your throat as he whispered about how he would burn you alive less than half an hour ago. There had to be something wrong with you to even consider it. Beside you he nearly emptied half the glass in his first sip before going back to enjoying his cigarette and you found your resolve crumbling at his lazy half-smile. Making possibly one of the dumbest mistakes of your life, you followed his lead and took a long swig from the bittersweet drink, intent on letting the alcohol relax your nerves.

The effects were slow to come, it was only wine after all, but as the night carried on and the two of you kept drinking you started to notice the effects taking hold. At the very least, conversation between you flowed easily, trading questions about each other that never grew too inquisitive. He didn’t try to pry too deeply, he didn’t even ask for your last name, and you were sure to never bring up his scars. You talked for what must’ve been hours, and as the bottle emptied, the space between the two of you grew smaller.

Dabi could handle his alcohol, but you couldn’t, clearly. To be fair, he was tipsy, but the way you unashamedly leaned your head on his shoulder when you grew tired was anything but sober.

“So, doll, got a boyfriend or something?” He asked, testing the waters. You leaned up and sighed at the question.

“No, nothin’ like that... I haven’t had the time.” You tipped your glass back but the wine never reached your lips. You groaned at the sight of the empty cup and leaned up to grab the bottle from the table. Unfortunately, Dabi’s hand held onto yours before you could reach the vice; You felt him pull you back towards the couch by your wrist until you lost your balance, falling back against his shoulder. If he minded he didn’t show it as his arm rested around your hip.

“I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” The condescending tone in his voice was annoying but it wasn’t enough to make you move from his comfortable grasp.

You scoffed, messing with your hair to avoid looking at his face, “God, who are you, my dad?”

A shit-eating grin stretched across his face, “Oh, so you’re into that Daddy shit, huh?”

The comment took you so off-guard that you broke into a fit of giggles that did nothing to temper the blush returning to your face. Dabi loved how much of an effect he had on you; the simplest words turning you into a flustered mess.

“Nah, not my thing-“ ‘Unless you’re into it,’ You barely kept yourself from saying that second part out loud. From this angle Dabi had the perfect view of your tits pressing against his chest and he stared shamelessly. You barely noticed, too focused on how warm he was while holding you close to his side. It almost looked like something a boyfriend would do, but you knew better.

It was a strange feeling, to be so under Dabi’s influence. Every lingering touch, every heated stare... It was driving you crazy. And he knew it. He was toying with you and you couldn’t believe how much you loved it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a chill running down your spine, only realizing that you were so caught up in your time spent with Dabi that you forgot to close the very window he had snuck through. As the night carried on it somehow got colder and you cursed the thin cardigan you found yourself wearing that did nothing to shield away the biting air.

“You cold, doll?” Dabi was surprisingly perceptive, noticing the trail of goosebumps that ran down your arms. Although, perhaps it was the sensation of his hand trailing over your skin that caused it rather than the wind.

Nodding hesitantly, he wasted no time in wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. You couldn’t have held back the relieved sigh that left your lips if you tried. Because when Dabi wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you to his chest, it felt like heaven to your frigid bones.

As you curled into the embrace he couldn’t ignore how you felt on top of him. The pressure of your ass sitting on his dick drove him crazy, and it took damn near everything in him to not push you down face first and take you then and there.

“Dabi, you feel amazing,” His eyes widened, your slurred words almost making him lightheaded, “so warm...” You trailed your hands up and threaded them through his coarse dark hair. The faintest of groans left his lips as you got comfortable and accidentally dragged yourself down the front of his jeans.

All at once he took hold of the skin of your thighs, stopping you from moving and damn near shaking with effort to keep still. “Doll... cause’ you’re drunk, I’ll ask you this one time—“

“—Please, Dabi,” You didn’t budge under his bruising grasp or struggle like before, instead holding eye-contact, resolve heavy in your voice, “I want this- want you so bad,” It was enough for him, and he didn’t hold back.

He was ravenous when he finally pressed his lips to yours, leaving you tongue-tied and moaning into his mouth. The alcohol only added fuel to your desire, easing the tension on your clit by grinding against him. He broke the kiss in a choked gasp, his hands cupping you around your ass and fondling you through the thin material. When he stood up from the couch gravity somehow felt heavier, but it must’ve been from the wine. His hands still held you by your thighs and while he backed the both of you towards the bedroom his lips never left yours, even when he went to rip your cardigan off your shoulders, leaving it behind along with his coat, you in only your bra and leggings.

The loud bang from Dabi kicking the door open startling a squeak out of you and he chuckled into the kiss, running a stapled hand through your bedhead and pulling hard enough to make you keen into his touch. Rather unceremoniously he threw you onto the bed, briefly disorientating before you could make out Dabi’s alluring figure ridding himself of his clothes. Once he pulled over his shirt you saw his maimed chest covered in taught muscles and scars. As he broke your gaze to turn his attention to his jeans, fumbling with the cheap zipper, you couldn’t help from crawling towards him slowly on your knees before whispering, “No—“ He looked up from his trance, wondering if you’d changed your mind before you quickly perished the thought by pulling him towards you by the loops on his jeans. He raised an eyebrow at your show but didn’t make a move to interrupt the adorable way you took care of him.

So you began, looking into his eyes as you kissed down his deformed chest. It seemed a miracle he was even standing before you, with haphazard staples barely holding him together. You couldn’t resist giving the seams of his wounds special attention, pressing light kisses to the metal as you made your way down.

You unhooked his jeans easily, eagerly reaching to feel him through his boxers. His nails dug into your scalp when you finally eased his shorts off, breaking your eyes away to look between his legs and—

You couldn’t’ve stopped the needy moan from your lips if you tried, too attracted and nervous about the shiny bridges of metal through his dick. “Fuck, Dabi...” he had the most cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on his face as he watched you salivate over him.

“What’s wrong, baby? Never had a guy with piercings before?” You didn’t even hear him, instead responding with a dazed shake of your head; far too tipsy on the sight of him towering over you, reddened head leaking against his stomach.

He pretended to come to a decision, “Guess I’ll have to take my time with you before fucking that cute pussy,” his words sent heat straight to your core, slick pooling in your ruined panties, “but then why am I the only one naked? You’re gonna make me embarrassed you know.” The amused look on his face put you at ease and you laughed a bit at the idea.

“You? You’re the most shameless person I’ve ever met.” The smile he brought out was enough to ease the nerves that came with being so vulnerable to a man like Dabi.

The foe-offended look on his face wasn’t any less ironic, “You wound me, doll,” when his attention fell back to your clothes he didn’t hesitate to snake his hand below your arched back and unclasp your bra. Before you could think of covering yourself he’d already raised your arms up and thrown the lace material into some corner of your room.

He was on you in an instant, biting and sucking on the plush skin of your tits with abandon, enjoying every small tremor it brought from your shaking lips. To him your body was a blank canvas just begging for him to bruise, and he would take his sweet time carving teeth marks into your chest.

But while he had his fun you had yours, running your hand along his collarbones and carefully worrying the stapled hem of skin. You weren’t sure how the stitches would hold up otherwise. But before you could worry about it too much you felt him pull away, a deep hickey left in his wake.

“You don’t have to be gentle with them,” he looked up at you with an unexpected sincerity.

With that there was nothing to hold you back from dragging your nails down his chest, the villain groaning as you felt his solid stomach beneath you. From a distance he looked like a patched rag-doll that was barely holding itself together but up close the wiry muscles that clung to his calloused body couldn’t be ignored. Dabi practically hissed when he felt your soft fingers wrap around his cock, only spurring you on further. The piercings weren’t as rigid as they appeared but they were scalding to the touch.

His breathing stuttered around you as you picked up your pace, the heat of his breath pulsing on your cheek as you took in every sinful expression on his face. He cried out, squeezing his eyes shut at the pleasure. You stared unabashedly, taking note of how peaceful he looked above you. Like for the first time that night his body wasn’t wrought with chronic pain.

When you pulled your hand away his eyes shot open. “I didn’t tell you to fuckin’ stop.” He sounded pissed but before you could lose confidence you shifted your weight to the side, locking your arms together behind his to roll him over, leaving you on top.

“I wanna make you feel good, Dabi,” Thankfully he seemed to be curious as to what you had planned, letting you stay on top for now. You crawled down his body until you reached his painful hard-on. Wrapping your hand back around him you gave him the most doe eyed gaze you could manage before taking him into your mouth.

“God, that’s fuckin’ good,” He cradled your head and set his own pace, not too rough but far from gentle as you fought the urge to cough. The metal of his piercings were hot against your tongue, the heat unlike any other experience you’ve had before. Wrapping your tongue around him you intentionally hummed, the keening moan it brought from him more than worth the burn. Tears crowded near your eyelashes as he chased his own pleasure, breaking his gaze to crane his head back in ecstasy. His neck bobbed with the effort and the sight made you almost proud.

It was over far too soon and once he pulled away you almost missed the weight of him in your mouth. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you, hear me?” His words made you all too aware of how badly you needed him, but he continued to run his mouth as he pushed you up the sheets and took his place back on top of you, “Gonna fill you so good, babydoll,” He caged you beneath him and you whined at the feeling of his slick cock heavy against your thighs.

His hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me, which do you want?” His blue eyes looked black in the feint light, staring at you with such an amused intensity that you didn’t even register what he said.

“What?”

Dabi tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before leaning closer and whispering, “My mouth? Or my fingers?”

You normally wouldn’t have been able to look him in the eye after he said that but liquid courage still ran through your veins and you leaned forward until you could nestle into the crook of his neck.

“Your fingers, Dabi,” You groaned as you felt his grip around your jawline move until his left hand curled around your neck and his right tore off your leggings before slipping below the waistband of your underwear. As soon as he touched you his eyes widened, a feral glint in his eyes.

“Fuck— Doll, you’re so fucking wet,” He squeezed your neck experimentally and the rush of endorphins sent to your head felt divine. It wasn’t to be outdone when you felt him circle your clit with his thumb, rushing into such a fast pace from the get-go. The onslaught of pleasure made a scratchy cry slip from under the grip of his hand. Wrapping your hands around his shoulders, you were almost thankful for the immovable grip around your neck. It served almost like an anchor to ground you underneath him.

He pulled a startled squeak from your throat when his two fingers pushed their way inside. It barely hurt, but the maddening feeling of his long fingers curling and stretching your walls was one you wouldn’t forget. Dabi shushed your eager cries with an endless stream of filth whispered into your ear, “Can’t wait to fuck my cum into you, dollface. You want that? You gonna be my good fucking slut?” He was downright mean as he took his time stringing you like a bow. “You wanna feel me drip out of you like a street whore?”

“Yes, Dabi, I’ll be good, I promise just please—” You were too far gone at that point, grabbing fist fulls of dark hair to yank him to your mouth, the kiss muffling his groan from you pulling on your hair. His index finger curled so slightly into you, the pace on your clit turning soft once he added his third finger. The sound he brought out of you was somewhere between a dying choke and euphoric moan, each sensation coaxing you into his touch. Feeling him move so easily within you was almost enough to bring you over, your whimpers increasing against his lips, only for all of it to be taken away.

Dabi left you grasping around nothing when he took his hands away, no doubt enjoying the desperate way you tried to rock yourself back onto him. Only when you did, you were met with something far bigger than his fingers.

“Come on...” When he called you by your name it brought you back to earth for a minute, “I want you to beg for me,” looking to see his heavy length pressed against you as he rubbed the glistening tip onto your clit. “You’re gonna beg for a villain to fuck you,” The promise of pleasure was so enticing that it was worth lying to the cops, worth risking your safety, and enough to toss your pride out the open window.

Grabbing him by his hair, you forced him to look at you. “Dabi, please, I need you... Need you in me ‘til you cum,” desperation and lust coated every sinful word you said, but Dabi wasn’t satisfied. “I wanna be good for you, Dabi, want you to fuck me, fill me up, ple-“ your words were cut off by the intense stretch of your walls trying to take him in. You’d never screamed someone’s name so loudly before in your life.

“Oh, fuck-! Shit... your pussy’s so fuckin’ tight,” As each inch sunk deeper you couldn’t speak or even breathe.

He wasn’t wasting any time, mercifully toying with your clit as he filled you. The air felt thin in your bedroom, like you were hundreds of feet from the ground, drawing short, shallow gasps beneath him.

“Da-bi!” His hips ground slowly against yours and you were suddenly thankful for his prepping, unable to come to grips with just how full you felt.

An overwhelmed laugh fell from his burnt lips as he slowly pulled himself from your dripping sex, “What’sa matter, babe? Can’t take it?”

The pout on your face only made him grin, the childish indignity adorable to him. But his teasing was starting to push you to your limits. He might’ve been a powerful villain and you a civilian, but it didn’t mean he had to treat you like glass. Hooking your legs around his waist you forced him forward. Dabi’s eyes shot open and both of you choked at the sharp friction. Any trace of playfulness died then and there, his knuckles turning white from the grip on your hips.

He kept your legs tight around him as he surged forward, your mouth caught open in a daze. You weren’t sure what his piercings would’ve felt like inside of you but god, was it good. The metal spokes impressed into your body with fervor, constantly dragging against your sensitive walls.

Tomorrow you might say that the wine was what drove you so crazy for him, but you knew you’d be lying to yourself. He was by far the most intoxicating libation you’d ever tried. The sound of skin against skin was almost deafening, only broken by the dulcet groans from the man above you and the siren that still echoed outside your widow like white noise. In the back of your mind you wondered if they were still searching for him.

Dabi leaned his head into the crook of your neck, revisiting the marks he’d already made. His teeth bit down your chest all the while abusing your aching clit. It was all too much. You couldn’t help clawing at his broad shoulders, leaving inflamed tracks in your wake. When your nails made contact with the scorched seam on his back Dabi moaned, the loud whine in his voice got you to realize something crucial. The motherfucker got off on pain.

His touch turned ravenous after that, pulling you tight against him until there wasn’t any space between your bodies. The rough texture of his skin-graphs and the blistering heat of their staples pushing against your breasts just made his brutal pace feel more intense.

Your voice was higher pitched than you’d ever thought you could manage, squeaking out small moans with every quick pulse of his hips. Your ankles were sore and locked together— he couldn’t have pulled out if he tried. The legs that were still wrapped around him twitched involuntarily as you felt the string inside your core about to snap.

“Fa.. fuck, Da—bi I’m—“ you stuttered against him, crying into his shoulder when you felt his pelvis grinding so perfectly onto your clit while he railed you, screaming his name one more time as he pulled you overboard, being sure to scratch at his back as you thrashed futilely against him.

All at once his teeth were buried into your throat, digging in so hard that you mistook his spit for blood; his bite only sharpening the orgasm that sent waves of heat coursing through you. Against your dented skin he groaned and cursed, his voice coarse but dripping with pleasure as he cursed expletives onto your shining skin. The wetness of your climax dripped down your legs, making him somehow push faster against you, but despite the blinding orgasm he’d thrown you into he couldn’t stop until he’d finished and the overstimulation burned white hot through your entire body. Just as the drive of his cock bordered on painful, Dabi shoved you down onto him, stilling above you and choking on a groan.

Twitching inside your cashmere walls you felt the warm rush of his cum paint your insides as his hips jerked into yours. His heart beat wildly against his chest— you could feel it over yours, his eyes still glazed with pleasure. Dabi was sure to pull out slowly, through the dim glow of your room he could see his cum seep out of your glistening pussy, and he couldn’t help but push his fingers inside you one last time. He might’ve liked pain, but he was an asshole who enjoyed the uncomfortable keen it brought from your trembling lips.

Thin moonlight shone through your window, illuminating the maze of blemishes that razed against his alabaster skin. It might’ve been because of the bleary tears that still half-clung to your eyelashes, but above you, with a winded smile on his torn-up face, he looked half a corpse and half a god.

“Still with me, baby?” He noticed your staring, teasing you by waving his hand in front of your face.

You felt almost high, all drowsy symptoms included, only responding to his question with a feint grin. The wine and the rough sex both made you exhausted in more ways than one, but before you could complain Dabi had shifted his weight off the bed.

“Nooo...” Admittedly you felt a little childish but you couldn’t help but pout as he grabbed his briefs and went to leave your bedroom.

Through the open doorway he’d said, “Just getting a towel, stay put.”

His absence gave you a second to think, staring up at the ceiling with a thousand opposing thoughts bidding for your attention. You just slept with a villain— a murderer. You might side with what he stands for but Dabi was still dangerous. He could’ve killed you tonight, after all. And yet, the only thing you could wonder was what was taking him so long.

Soon he returned wearing his boxers, carrying a heavy towel that he ran under the sink with warm water and took to cleaning the dribbling mess between your thighs. You cooed at his touch, the afterglow of your orgasm cleaned away until Dabi read the alarm clock on your bedside table. 4am.

“You know I can’t stay, right?” He asked bluntly, and you nodded, trying not to let the disappointment show too badly on your face.

“Villain stuff, huh?” You shrugged, curling up into your pillow. Dabi had to continue hunting down the rest of his shed clothes while he mumbled some kind of agreement.

He flashed you a grin while he zipped up his tattered jeans, “Doesn’t mean I won’t break in some other time, doll.” Relief spread through your fingertips once he said that, the weight disappearing from your shoulders.

Your content smile followed him as he threw that thick coat around his shoulders, walking up to your bedside and leaning low. You grinned, leaning forward and trying to catch him for one more kiss, only to be interrupted by the sound of something below you.

Looking down, you saw Dabi slapping a handful of crumpled bills on your end-table, that smug grin from earlier evident on his face. Without bidding you some kind of goodbye kiss he made his way to the open window, sparing you a glance before saying, “Buy some plan B, alright?”

You hadn’t even thought of it, grinning and waving him off as he swung himself onto the fire escape. The sounds of metal clanging against his boots faded away into the distant echoes of the city, and you brought your hand to your throat. Softly you traced the deep blemish his teeth had left behind, your smile turning giddy as you thought about his promise of another visit, but unfortunately the wine was still simmering through you and without Dabi to keep you awake your eyelids started to feel heavy.

Under your plush covers, you continued to cup your hand over the mark he left as you faded off into sleep, the siren that still echoed through the streets acting almost like a lullaby.

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

this seems like a thing you'd have thoughts about. I'm annoyed over the recent rise in expecting an author to do something and getting annoyed when they don't. this applies to ships, deaths, ending. obviously being upset over them not doing something in fine, but I've seen a ton of people expecting the author to bend to their will. it's like the cosmic opposite of death of the author. 'the author is alive and living in your walls and must act based off what they hear'. a new book i've been wanting came out today and I hadn't blocked the tags for it yet and i saw a post that started with 'it's the author's fault that-' before i aborted and blocked the tag but i'm like yes?? usually the author has plans and if your (or even a whole fandom's) wants go against that, chances are they aren't just gonna....change the whole plan? i've seen this a lot for ships, or even in certain characters, people going 'this is the wrong narrator'. idk, to me it feels like you're going into it not as someone consuming media, but someone wanting to alter the world. and obvs fanfiction is great for that but (esp in certain fandoms) they expect things to be more choose-your-own-adventure-y? I also just in general think fans have become super obsessed with the concept of things being "right", so if the author writes something OOC (technically impossible) for plot purposes or has character growth in a way the fans don't want, the fans riot and call it poor writing. as a writer it weirds me out cause I *know* where I want to go, I *have* plans, and obviously they'll change, but I'm not sure the changes will be based on tumblr rants. plus for shipping, not everything is queerbaiting if a hinted at gay ship doesnt go canon. idk, this seems like something you'll have insight on

(to be clear, this ask will be touching on audience as it pertains to death threats, harassment, and other adverse reactions to characters and ships ONLY. nothing else.)

THE COSMIC OPPOSITE OF DEATH OF THE AUTHOR: THE AUTHOR IS ALIVE AND LIVING IN YOUR WALLS AND MUST ACT BASED OFF OF WHAT THEY HEAR.

hi, i'm alive and well because of this phrase, thank you for bringing it into my inbox. and you're right. i do have thoughts on this (though you've managed to capture a lot of them perfectly in your ask).

namely, that anyone who thinks a character is OOC is in denial. either that they've just sorely misinterpreted a character, or that maybe the source material just isn't For Them anymore. it's hard to reconcile with for sure, especially when you love a fictional world with your whole heart.

i can even see how the loss of control over something you care so deeply for could be painful or overwhelming. and that wound to the ego might make you livid. but it's just that: a wound to the ego. a loss of control over something you fooled yourself into believing you had even an ounce of control over, when you didn't.

you were always just along for the ride.

it's concerning that people would jump to say "you didn't do this right! you ruined everything!" to the author, rather than realising that they just didn't vibe with what the author wrote. there needs to be a way we can express a disagreement in preferences without making it a death threat.

or, perhaps more urgently, there needs to be a way we can all realise that expressing our every opinion loudly isn't always wanted or needed. because in the case of fictional worlds, our opinions often don't matter. in the case of seasoned and/or published authors, they aren't warranted.

i think authors can do a poor job in constructing character arcs, or keeping characters consistent through a longer series. i think, sometimes, they can use character decisions for shock value instead of something that is maybe more in line with what we've previously been told about the character.

but the fact that the phrase "OOC" even exists in the context of the original creator has always been laughable to me. ultimately, it's their decision how they portray their characters. it's their world. not ours.

you can choose to be part of it or you can choose to move on.

[bibbawrites]

Going Home - Single Dad!Charlie x Owen

THIS IS PART 7 OF THE SINGLE DAD!CHARLIE SERIES, YOU CAN FIND THE OTHER PARTS HERE

Request: none

Word Count: 1630 words

Summary: Part 7 of Single Dad!Charlie and part 2 of Oklahoma, Charlie and Margaux spend their last day with Owen, but it doesn’t go exactly as planned

Warnings: swearing plus i think everyone knows at this point but this does include romantic (pining idiots) chowen, remember this is fictional, if you dont like that just dont read :)

A/N: time for a little bit of angst? i think so! literally wrote this in about 2 hours last night so if it’s not great that’s why hahaha anyways heres part 2 of oklahoma, enjoy ! 

Tag List: @happinessinthedarkesttimes​​​​​ @littlemissaddict​​​​​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​​​​​ @headheartbellarke​​​​​ @lovesanimals​​​​​ @bartok-the-magnificent​​​​​ @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 @rangerelik @kaitieskidmore1 @katrina765​​​​​ @fandomxreaders​​​​​​ @ifilwtmfc @yagorlemmalyn​

Charlie and Margaux’s four days in Oklahoma passed quickly, and before Charlie knew it he was waking up on the morning of their last day. 

And like every morning for their time in Oklahoma, Charlie woke up curled into Owen’s chest, the taller boy’s arms wrapped around him tightly. Charlie didn’t know how he was going to be able to sleep without Owen beside him.

“Owen.” Charlie whispered quietly, brushing a stray strand of hair off Owen’s forehead and placing a soft kiss on his jaw. Owen’s eyelids fluttered as he stirred.

“Hmm?” He mumbled. Charlie kissed his cheek.

“Wake up. We leave in a few hours.” 

“Stay.” Owen squeezed him tighter, placing a sleepy kiss on Charlie’s forehead. Charlie sighed at the contact.

“You know we can’t.” He said softly. Owen opened his eyes for the first time, giving Charlie his best puppy eyes.

“Please?” He begged.

“O...” Charlie hesitated, wishing he could say yes but he knew they had to go home.

“It’s fine.” Owen sighed, shutting his eyes. “Go back to California and leave me here.” 

“Why don’t you come with us?” Charlie questioned.

“To LA?” Owen asked, his eyes opening again. Charlie nodded.

“Yeah. We can get an apartment together, just like in Vancouver, so that way you’ll be with me...” He cleared his throat. “I mean, with Margaux, all the time. Or you could just stay at our current place and share my bedroom, I wouldn’t mind. I kinda really like waking up with you.”

“I'll have to think about it, if that’s okay?” Owen replied. Charlie smiled softly.

“Of course it’s okay.” He agreed. Owen smiled.

“Thanks.” 

They fell into a comfortable silence, before Charlie spoke up again.

“I did actually have something to ask you though.” He said, and Owen raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah?” He prompted.

“Mags and I are staying in LA for Christmas this year, just the two of us, and I was hoping you’d join us? Margaux would love to have you there... Fuck it, I would love to have you there too.” Charlie explained. Owen stared at him for a few moments, and Charlie could practically see the gears turning in his brain.

“You want me to spend Christmas with you?” He asked after a moment.  

“Only if you want to of course.” Charlie said quickly, and Owen bit his lip. 

“I don’t know Char, I’ve never celebrated Christmas away from my family before.” He admitted.

“Oh, then in that case, don’t worry.” Charlie gave him a small smile.

“Charlie...” Owen said softly, but Charlie shook his head, silencing the younger boy.

“It’s fine, I just thought I’d offer.” He said. Owen frowned.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“No need to apologise.” Charlie told him, trying to ignore the stinging feeling of rejection in his chest. He knew that if he was in Owen’s position he probably wouldn’t want to spend Christmas away from his family either. But Charlie was in a different place to Owen, he has his own family, and as long as he was with Margaux for Christmas it didn’t matter where he was. Maybe they should come back to Oklahoma for Christmas...

“Should we, uh, should we get breakfast?” Owen questioned, shaking Charlie out of his thoughts and Charlie realised they had been laying in silence while he thought. He cleared his throat.

“Sounds good.” He answered.

Owen rolled out of his bed without another word, stepping over Margaux’s sleeping body to leave the room. Charlie sighed, watching him go.

Once again he’d overstepped and freaked Owen out. Great way to end their trip.

- 

Two hours later Charlie was fully packed, and had agreed to let Margaux take Bindi for one last walk before they left. 

He put her padded coat on, since it was quite chilly outside, and with a glance towards the kitchen to see if Owen was joining them, Charlie ushered Margaux and Bindi out of the house. 

“Daddy, will Bindi forget me?” Margaux questioned as they left the driveway. Charlie shook his head, holding tightly to Margaux’s hand, her other hand holding Bindi’s lead.

“Of course not baby. How could she forget her bestest little friend?” He reassured the four year old. Margaux nodded, satisfied.

“Will she miss me?” She asked.

“I bet she will.” Charlie agreed.

“I’m gonna miss her.” Margaux pouted.

“Me too. We’ll come back and see her soon, okay?” Charlie told her, once again considering a change of Christmas plans.

“Okay.” Margaux agreed happily.

Charlie laughed slightly as Bindi tugged Margaux along the path, the four year old struggling slightly to keep the large dog from pulling her over. 

“Daddy?” Margaux spoke again as they reached the end of the street.

“Yeah?” Charlie replied, checking for cars before leading Margaux and Bindi across the road.

“Can we get a puppy?” Margaux asked, and Charlie hesitated.

“We don’t really have room for a puppy baby.” He told her. She pouted for a few seconds before a new idea hit her.

“Oh. What about a horsey?” She asked, eyes wide, and Charlie grinned.

“I think horseys need a little bit of room too. Why don’t we think a little bit smaller?” He suggested, already knowing that the second they arrived in LA they would be making a trip to the pet store.

“A pony?” Margaux frowned and Charlie laughed. 

“Bit smaller. And if you say a baby pony I’m gonna tickle you so much.” He teased and Margaux squealed. 

“No tickles.” She giggled. 

“What about if we get a fishy? Does that sound good?” Charlie suggested, and Margaux considered it for a few seconds.

“A blue one?” She asked, and Charlie smiled.

“I’m sure we can find a blue one.” He agreed.

“Yay!” Margaux cheered. “Bindi, I’m getting a fishy.”

They stopped at a park, Margaux and Bindi running around together until Margaux got tired and came back over to Charlie, Bindi trailing behind her. Charlie picked her up with ease, Bindi’s lead in his other hand, and started the walk back to Owen’s parents house.

“Let’s go back to Papa’s house and get ready to go home.” Charlie said as they walked. Margaux whined.

“Don’t wanna go home.” Margaux mumbled, her face pressed into Charlie’s shoulder. Charlie sighed. 

“Me neither baby, me neither.” 

- 

The ride to the airport was quiet, the only sound Margaux happily singing along to the Julie and the Phantoms soundtrack that she had requested Owen put on for her. They pulled into the parking lot and once the car was stopped Charlie took a deep breath. 

“I guess we’ll see you around then.” He said, his voice sounding flat. Owen frowned. 

“You don’t want me to walk you in?” He asked. Charlie shrugged. 

“Figured you didn’t want to, since you haven’t spoken to me since this morning.” He replied and Owen’s eyes narrowed. 

“You didn’t make much effort to talk to me either. You left on a walk without even asking if I wanted to join.” His tone was cold.

“I’m not fighting with you in front of...” Charlie trailed off, glancing in the rear view mirror at Margaux, who seemed oblivious to their argument, too busy peering out the window to see the planes. 

“I’m coming in.” Owen stated, unclipping his seatbelt. Charlie rolled his eyes. 

“Fine.” He grumbled.

“No need to sound so fucking enthusiastic.” Owen muttered, and Charlie shook his head as Owen climbed out of the car to grab the bags. 

Charlie opened his mouth to reply but shut it quickly, not wanting to cause more drama. When he had thought about leaving Owen again, he really didn’t picture it going quite like this. 

- 

They sat at the gate in silence until finally the announcement came that it was time for Margaux and Charlie to board the plane. 

“Okay baby, say bye to Papa.” Charlie instructed as he stood up. Margaux wrapped her arms around Owen from her position in his lap. 

“Bye Papa, I love you.” She said. Owen hugged her back, placing a soft kiss on her head. 

“Love you too darling. I’ll see you soon, okay?” He replied, and Margaux looked up at him with big eyes. 

“Promise?” She asked. Owen nodded. 

“Promise.” He replied. 

Owen stood up, placing Margaux on the ground and she looked at her father expectantly. 

“What?” Charlie asked, seeing the look on her face. 

“Say bye to Papa.” She prompted and Charlie shook his head at her bossiness.

“Bye Owen.” He said simply. Owen sighed. 

“Bye Charlie.” He replied. 

“Don’t forget to hug.” Margaux said, and Charlie couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on his face. He pulled Owen in, wrapping his arms around the taller boy. 

“I’m sorry.” Owen mumbled into his neck. Charlie shook his head. 

“No, I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have overreacted.” He replied. Letting Owen go, Charlie gave him a sad smile. 

“I’m gonna miss you.” He admitted. 

“I think I’m gonna miss you two more.” Owen replied. His eyes flicked to Charlie’s lips for a second, and with a quick glance around to see if anyone was watching them, he lent in, placing a quick kiss on Charlie’s lips. Charlie’s eyes widened, but before he could respond Owen was pulling away. 

“Ew.” Margaux mumbled and Charlie chuckled. He took her hand, knowing that they had to get on the plane before he either decided to stay or jumped on Owen to kiss him senseless. He figured the airport probably wasn’t the best place for that. They made it to the flight attendants who scanned their boarding passes. 

“Charlie!” Owen called, just as they were about to head down the tunnel to the plane, and Charlie turned back around. Owen gave him a massive grin before speaking again. 

“I’ll see you for Christmas.” 

[calamitykaty]

Don’t Forget

CHARLIE X READER

WORD COUNT: 2399

WARNINGS: SOME SWEARING...LOTS OF ANGST, SOME FLUFF

REQUESTED: NO

“Promise you won’t forget about me when you make your dreams come true?” Her fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt as she clung to him desperately. 

Charlie’s thumbs swiftly swiped the tears that gathered under her eyes. 

“I would never forget you, couldn’t even if I tried, love.” He promised and gently stepped out of her embrace as his flight was called for boarding. 

She wrapped her arms around her body, her knuckles white as they dug into her ribs. A quiet sob escaped as she watched her best friend disappear into the airport crowd. 

She had been friends with Charlie since they were practically in diapers. She was there for every major milestone of his and he was there for all of hers. She was there when Charlie played his first open mic and he was there for her first dance recital. He held her when she went through her first heartbreak, the same way she held him when he got his first “no” after a huge audition. If you asked Charlie, they went together like Peanut Butter and Eggs. 

She remembered crying for what felt like weeks when Charlie broke the news that he was moving to California to chase his dreams of acting. It wasn’t that she didn’t know the day would eventually come but she expected to be right there with him, along for the ride. Life didn’t work out that way for her though. She had suffered a career ending knee injury that took her from the largest stages in Canada to the sidelines of helping other dancers into costume changes backstage. 

Charlie kept his promise for the most part, at first, anyways. But then the first year had flown by  like nothing and their daily video chats slowly turned into weekly calls before calls turned into texts every now and then until texts turned into instagram comments and occasional likes. It wasn’t long before her calls were sent straight to voicemail by the boy and she felt her world slowly slipping away from her. She couldn’t blame him for living his life. Mostly, she just blamed herself for investing so much of her life into him. 

“Y/N!!!” Charlie's voice echoed through the phone, a large smile plastered on his face before he turned the camera around “Look! Palm trees...PALM TREES!” the boy yelled with giddy excitement. 

Her laughter filled the air in response. She missed him already but wouldn’t let him know that. 

“God, I can’t wait until you come visit. You’re going to love it here! The people...the food...the atmosphere...it’s just so electric here” 

“I can’t wait, Char”

The boy turned the camera back around so it was facing him “I miss you” he spoke softly and there it was, the words she was dying to hear. 

“You and me against the world, eh?” 

“Always, Y/N, Always.” 

“Hey, Y/N, we're gonna grab some lunch,.You want something?” She was pulled back to reality by her supervisor. 

She shook her head and pulled her hair up into a ponytail. The last show of the season had just wrapped the day prior and she was tasked with organizing all of the costumes and getting them back into storage. She quickly got back to work, pulling dresses from the rack and placing them in dress bags, making sure each was labeled correctly before putting them in order on the storage rack. She did this for each costume before moving to jewelry, shoes and other accessories. She pulled her phone from her pocket at the feeling of it vibrating. 

“Did you hear Charlie landed a netflix series?” Her sister, Lane, texted her. 

The corners of her lips tugged up into an involuntary smile and she sent back a simple thumbs up emoji before stuffing the phone back into her back pocket. 

She could feel angry tears welling up in her eyes and bit her lip trying to keep them at bay. She was happy for Charlie, truly. But the hurt she felt from finding out that he finally got his big break, a potentially life altering role, from her sister instead of from him was almost unbearable. Y/N wiped the tears from her eyes and grabbed her purse from the desk across the room, fishing her car keys out of the side pocket. She silently made her way across the parking lot to her baby blue Subaru Outback, the car that Charlie had convinced her to buy just so her car would match his orange one. 

Y/N quietly sang along to the song on the radio as muscle memory guided her to the local market where she needed to buy a few necessities. She clicked the little lock on her key fob twice, the car beeping to signal the doors had locked. She grabbed a cart and pulled her shopping list out of her purse, though she had every intention of just wandering around aimlessly and grabbing things as she saw fit anyways. She grabbed a box of tampons, some body care essentials and turned down the next aisle, her eyes looking down at the list, 

“Granola..” she muttered to herself and let her eyes wander down the aisle until she found what she was looking for. She tossed a canister bag of honey and vanilla granola into her cart before turning down the next aisle. 

“Y/N, is that you honey?” 

She looked up to find Charlie’s mother standing at the opposite end of the aisle. A smile broke out onto her face as she pushed her cart to the blonde haired woman. “Hi, Mrs. Gillespie” she pulled her into a hug. Charlie’s mom squeezed the breath out of her, the type of hug that only mothers give. 

“How have you been, dear? We haven’t seen you around lately.” 

She looked away, a tinge of guilt on her stomach. Part of Charlie being her person for so long was his family being like a second family to her, but it also meant that when Charlie disappeared from her life, she too disappeared from theirs. 

“Just been busy, I guess” She lied. “I should get going, it was nice seeing you Mrs. G”

Mrs. Gillespie gently squeezed her shoulder “Well, don’t be a stranger, yeah?” 

Y/N mustered a smile and nodded her head though her smile just as quickly fell when her ears picked up on a familiar laugh coming from behind her.  Y/N hurriedly turned the aisle and let out a breath that she hadn’t realized she had been holding. She felt her hands shaking and contemplated just abandoning her cart and coming back to the market another time. 

She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and clicked on the instagram app and searched for Charlie’s page. He had posted a picture two days prior of him hiking the Fundy, the caption read Good to be back home. Missed my people and my favorite place to hike. Y/N clicked on the picture, bringing up all of the people he tagged on the post, a mixture of family and friends, but most notably not her. 

“Hey, stranger…” Y/N muttered through the phone, the first time Charlie had answered her call in nearly three weeks. 

“Hey…” Y/N could hear loud music in the background 

“Is this a bad time?” she asked nervously. 

“No...I mean...w-well, kinda…” Charlie admitted. “I’ll call you tomorrow?” He offered in exchange. 

“Y-yeah, ok.” Y/N sighed, the phone disconnecting before she  could say anything else. She had kept her phone next to her at work the entire today the next day waiting for a phone call that never came. 

She pushed on through the rest of the market and grabbed all of the items that were on her list before heading to the self check-out. She could see the two Gillespies at the other side of the store, benign checked out by a teenage cashier. She quickly scanned her items and bagged them up before placing her debit card in the card reader and punched her code in before grabbing her receipt and making a hasty beeline for the exit, trying her hardest not to be stopped by Charlie's mother again. 

Her plan worked and she made it to her car without being stopped. She clicked the unlock button on her key fob before opening the hatch on the back and began loading her groceries into the back. She had almost escaped scot-free but when she closed the hatch her eyes landed on the boy, leaning against her car with a smile plastered on his face. 

“Charles.” She nodded curtly and turned around to take her cart back to the coral. She could hear his footsteps chasing behind her as she pushed the cart where it belonged. She felt the boy tug at her waist, turning her around to face him. 

“Hey, stranger” Charlie whispered down to her. 

She gently pushed against his chest, creating space between them and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Don’t touch me, Charlie.” She meant it to come out of her mouth with venom, for it to sound hateful, and mean but instead it came out as a scared plea. 

Charlie frowned, his eyebrows knitted down in confusion. He reached out a hand again but dropped it back down to his side when Y/N stepped further back from him again. She could feel the sting of tears start to prick at the back of her eyes and cursed herself, the last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of the boy. 

“Y/N…” Charlie begged as she walked away from him and quickly got into her car. She placed the key into the ignition and pulled out of the parking space, leaving the confused boy behind in her rear view mirror. When she got home, Y/N, abandoned her groceries in the car and headed straight to her room when she crawled under the covers and let her body finally feel all of the emotions that she had held in, her body shook with each hiccup caused by her sobs. Her phone quietly dinged next to her every 30 seconds for a few minutes until the texts turned to phone calls that she let go to voicemail. 

She woke up to a weight shifting on her bed, her eyes slowly fluttered open and landed on the boy laying next to her with worry in his eyes. She had forgotten that she had given him a key to her apartment the year before he left. 

“What are you doing here?” Her voice quivered. 

Charlie reached out, his hand cupping her cheek, the pad of his thumb lightly running from side to side against her soft skin. Y/N flinched at his touch causing him to remove his hand.She wanted to yell out to him, to push him away and tell him that she never wanted to see him again but she just didn’t have the energy to fight him. 

“Why was I so easy to forget?” she settled on, her voice raspy and broken. 

He knew he had hurt her but had spent the last year pushing it to the back of his mind, reassuring himself that when he got back to town that everything would just fall back into place. He never took into account the magnitude of pain that he had caused his person. 

“Y/N...I-i’m sorry” Charlie blinked back his own tears “y-you’re not forgettable--you’re everything to me, you’re my person.” 

“I’m not” Y/N whispered, “not anymore, Charlie.” Her eyes avoided his as she turned onto her back to stare at the stark white ceiling. 

“Congrats on the netflix role” 

‘I was going to tell you” Charlie sighed. 

She could feel his eyes burning into the side of her cheek. Y/N pursed her lips “sure.” She could feel the anger in chest start to ignite again and tuned so her back was facing him.

“You don’t get to come back, Charlie, and act like you didn’t erase me from your life over the past year.”

‘That’s not true, Y/N, I didn’t--”

“It is! And you know it!” She cut him off, her voice growing louder. She swung her legs to the edge of the bed and stood up, Charlie following suit. 

“It’s not like you ever came to visit me in California, this isn’t all on me, Y/N” Charlie argued.  

Y/N shot daggers at the boy, her hands raked through her hair. “Are you fucking kidding me, Charlie?” She spit with venom “You NEVER invited me! YOU stopped taking my calls, YOU stopped answering my texts, YOU decided you didn’t want me anymore.” 

Charlie's face softened “T-that isn’t true.”

“Isn’t it though?” She hissed in response with a bitter laugh.

“It was too hard” Charlie admitted selfishly “I couldn’t get you out of my head a-and I was blowing auditions because of it. I--I was really homesick..for you…” He closed the distance between them and pulled Y/N into his arms despite her pushing against his chest, he held tighter until her arms wrapped around his waist.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” Charlie whispered over and over and kissed the top of her head. The pair clung together for what seemed like an eternity before Charlie pulled back and cupped her face with both of his hands, the pads of his thumbs wiping away her tears. 

“Come to Vancouver with me?” His eyes searched hers. 

“Vancouver?”

Charlie let his lips curl up “It’s where the series is getting filmed, come with me...I don’t want to lose you again” he pleaded, his eyes flicking down from her eyes to her lips and back up again. 

“Yeah..ok” Y/N hesitantly agreed as she leaned in meeting Charlie halfway, their lips connected. Charlie dropped his right hand from her cheek and grabbed her hip, pulling her closer to him. Her hands weaved around his neck as her mouth opened, inviting Charlie in to explore before she pulled back and rested her forehead against his, her eyes closed and a small smile on her face. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time,” Charlie admitted sheepishly. Y/N rocked up on her toes, her lips ghosting across his “next time don’t wait so long” she responded before connecting their lips again.

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