#not sure how well it works but oh well. those clouds were a bitch to cut out lol

[quilleth]

“It was dark, it was cold, and I was scared.  But then I saw the Moon. It was so big, and it was so bright it seemed to chase the darkness away. And when it did, I wasn’t scared anymore.”

Inspired by this gifset/quote, Shang Qinghua as Jack Frost and Mobei Jun as a moon god! SQH trying to figure out how to get closer to this hot mysterious man he sees sometimes when the moon is fullest and he doesn’t feel as scared of everything and why he would possibly help him of all people. MBJ’s appearance changes with the moon’s phases, so SQH can’t recognize him sometimes, but they absolutely met before, during a new moon when SQH helped moon god MBJ out of a sticky situation.  Yes new moon mbj is basically just normal mbj what of it xD

I just realized that i gave SQH frosted tips like what were popular when i was younger because i didn’t want to give him completely white hair like jack frost has in the movie >< Because i wanted it to look frosted over and you usually still see the color of something under the frost

[wordsarelife]

—the alchemy

pairing: jj maybank x fem!routledge reader

summary: you always had a thing for jj, while you thought he had a thing for kie. you couldn't have been more wrong..

warnings: none i think

notes: i have absolutely no clue how to play poker, so please don't grill me lmao

the water glistened, reflecting the afternoon sun. you dunked your feet inside, hanging from the bridge you were sitting on. it was lightly moving due to the waves beneath it.

you kept your eyes trained on the horizon, but looking at nothing in particular.

jj came running from the shore, sitting down beside you, letting his feet dangle into the water next to yours. "john b is making food"

"what could he possibly be making?" you smiled, clearly knowing that there wasn't much left in the pantry. you got through the day alright, thanks to both of you working, but you didn't buy any extraordinary things to make sure you had enough money to pay everything else.

“we’re having toast,” jj smirked, then paused for dramatic effect. “but we raided heyward’s for tomatoes, and kiara brought guac from her mom. so it’s fancy toast.”

“fancy toast! the ritz could never.” you hugged your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them, but a smile crept up on your lips.

"what are you even doing out here alone?"

"i'm thinking"

"about your dad?" jj asked carefully. "you know I’m here if you need to spill. no judgment. not even if it’s super depressing.”

"thanks, i know" you were thankful that you had such great friends. people that were like family to you and always made sure you were alright, even if they didn't have much to give themselves, apart from kiara.

"are you going to surf the surge tomorrow?" jj changed the topic, interpreting your silence as answer enough.

"heard agatha's gonna be a bitch" you shrugged. "must be nice to lose a few unnecessary limbs"

"don't be ridiculous, i'm a pro" jj took the sunglasses off his head and pushed them on your nose instead. "are you coming or not?"

"i prefer not to" you giggled, slapping his hand away as he tried to readjust the rest of your apperance. "gonna look good for cps"

"they won't even make it out here, agatha will arrive too soon for that"

"well, then i should be thanking her, right?" you looked up to the sky, the sun still breaking through the slowly arriving clouds, but the darkness of them made it evident that it wouldn't take too long for the storm to arrive. "thanks aggy! sorry for calling you a bitch"

"if that isn't nice" jj grinned. "look at you! such a polite lady"

"told you i could behave better than you" you stood up and waited for him to do the same. "i'm pretty sure they just told you to go and get me not to wait out until they had finished the food, right?"

"caught me" jj shrugged. you knew him well enough to guess that he was trying to escape more work than necessary. "but it did take some time to find you. you weren't in the tower john b locked you in"

"oh, maybe i'm not as well behaved as we thought" you shrugged, following him back to the beach. "you need those sunglasses soon?" you liked the red tinted look of them. you had worn them before and you loved that they made you look like a hippie or vanessa hudgens going to coachella in 2014.

“keep ‘em,” jj shrugged, giving you an exaggerated once-over. “you look better in them anyway.”

you raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. “how much did these cost?”

jj spun around, pretending to be offended. “whoa, whoa! don’t insult me like that. i didn’t pay for them.”

you laughed. “you stole these?”

“they were like six dollars, okay? i stole them out of principle.” he wiggled his eyebrows like that somehow made sense.

you shook your head amused. “jj, that’s still stealing.”

“nah, see, i was planning on giving them to you for a while, so really, it was a selfless act. call it proactive gift-giving.”

jj’s face lit up, the trademark smirk in place as you walked side by side back toward the beach. he kicked at the sand a little, glancing over at you every few seconds like he was waiting for you to laugh again.

you could hear the others before you saw them—john b shouting something about the toast burning, and kiara’s voice cutting through with, “how do you even burn toast?!”

“so, what’s the plan after we survive this gourmet meal?” you asked, your tone only half-teasing.

jj rubbed his hands together with a glint in his eyes. “well, after we feast on fancy toast and whatever leftovers kiara’s mom sent, i was thinking… poker.”

“poker? don’t we always lose when we play with pope?”

“yeah, but he’s working today, so we have a chance.” jj wiggled his eyebrows as if this were the best news in the world.

you laughed, shaking your head. “so, your plan is to take all my money after i generously agree to participate in poker?”

jj’s smirk deepened. “well, since you’re wearing those shades, you’re bound to win. you’ve got that poker-face-hippie thing going on.”

you shrugged, pretending to think about it. “true. i could absolutely bluff the hell out of you all.”

he nodded seriously. “exactly. so really, it’s your civic duty to play.”

“civic duty,” you repeated, laughing. “sure, sure.”

"sit down, you two" kiara ancouraged when you walked onto the patio.

"where have you been that long?" john b questioned, looking at you suspiciously. "you're always sneaking around together"

"don't be ridicilous, b" you shook your head. "we were just watching the waves"

kiara and jj exchanged glances you didn’t quite understand. it made your nerves tweak to not know what they were hinting at.

“i bet it was a sight so see” kiara said softly, a smirk on her face.

jj nodded. “as always” he shrugged, his eyes still on her.

you had to try hard not to let your face distort into jealousy. you had had a crush on jj for as long as you could remember. and the two of you were close, but nothing ever really happened with your brothers best friend.

being in love with jj was confusing. most of the time, he treated you just like anyone else, acting completely normal. but then, out of nowhere, he'd start flirting, leaving you unsure of what to think.

even though you tried your best, the crush on the boy always resurfaced when he would flirt with you once more, keeping your hopes up.

the meal continued without anything happening and you found yourselves cleaning the table to play a few rounds of poker like jj had promised.

"looks like you're in a tough spot" he grinned.

kiara had put down her cards, while you were trying hard to keep a straight face, knowing you would probably lose.

you shrugged. "i don't see you putting down anything valuable, maybank"

"ohh" kiara and your brother hollored at the same time.

"well, let's see then" kiara nudged jj's shoulder.

the blonde smirked before he revealed his cards to you, flushing a street. "you've underestimated me, guys"

john b and you sighed simultaneously, accepting defeat as you threw your own cards in the middle. while jj was busy mixing the cards, kiara took a look at her phone.

"i think i better head out" she smiled, standing up from her chair. "my mother's gonna go crazy if i'm late again"

you played a few more rounds after the girl had left, john b and you losing to jj each time. you were sure he had gotten help from pope, knowing that his time would come.

john b threw down his cards after one more uneventful round. "i'm heading to bed" he nodded, pulling his snapback down, before he highfived jj and pressed a kiss to your hair. "don't stay up too late"

"night, b" you smiled as you watched after him.

"one more round?" jj giggled.

"i'm all out" you shrugged, pointing at the pile of money on the table in front of him.

"well, if i lose you can have all of it"

"this sounds almost too good" you muttered. "okay, what if i lose then?"

"you'll take off your shirt" he shrugged.

"jj!" you pushed a hand to your mouth, draining out the scream of outrage that threatened to errupt in the air between you.

"what?" jj smirked, looking up at you with wide blue eyes. "am i making you nervous?"

"not a chance," you shot back, trying to keep your voice steady despite the way your heart was hammering in your chest. jj's smirk widened, the mischievous glint in his eyes only growing as he shuffled the cards one more time.

"alright then," he said, dealing the cards smoothly. "prove it."

you glanced at your hand, trying to keep your expression neutral. jj's eyes flickered up to meet yours, watching you intently, and you couldn't tell if he was bluffing or not.

you took a deep breath and played the first card, trying to focus on the game instead of the way jj was watching you like a hawk.

the next few minutes were tense, each of you placing cards with care. it was almost suffocating.

"you're really dragging this out, you know that?" you muttered, glancing up at him.

jj just grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. "patience, sweetheart. good things come to those who wait," he replied, his voice low and teasing. you rolled your eyes but couldn't help the slight tug at the corners of your mouth.

finally, it came down to the last card. you had one left in your hand, and so did jj. your eyes met, the room silent except for the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. You hesitated for a split second, then threw down your card.

jj's eyes flickered to the table, his face breaking into a triumphant grin. he laid his final card down with a laugh.

"looks like i win," he drawled, his voice smug. your eyes widened as you stared at the cards, disbelief washing over you. how did he keep doing this?

"you've got to be cheating," you grumbled, pushing back from the table. jj laughed, the sound warm, filling the quiet night air around you.

"well, you agreed to do this" he shrugged, like he was completely in the right.

you looked at him without any expression on your face, before you sighed, your fingers dipping down to meet the material of your shirt, as you stood up.

jj's eyes widened at your movement, standing up at the same time. "it was a joke, y/n" he muttered quickly. "you don't have to do anything you don't want to"

you halted in your movement. "if you had won, would you have given me the money, like you promised?"

"of course" jj answered without so much as a thought.

your smile deepend, before your fingers gripped the hem of the shirt, pulling it over you head in a quick motion. revealed was your bikini top. the one jj had seen you in a million times, but still his eyes widened even further.

jj's mouth opened slightly, his usual cocky demeanor vanishing as he stared at you. he remembered seeing you in it before, but this still felt different. maybe it was the intimacy of the dimly lit patio, or the way you stood before him now, your eyes steady and unwavering. you had called his bluff, and he was utterly speechless.

"see?" you said, trying to keep your voice light despite the rapid thudding of your heart. "no big deal. just a bikini, jj."

he swallowed hard, finally snapping out of his daze. "right," he said, his voice cracking slightly. he cleared his throat, his gaze darting away before quickly finding its way back to you. "just a bikini."

you walked around the table, pushing yourself between him and the discarded chair. "this can't really be the reason you're so uneasy"

you tried to read the emotion on his face, but he just looked at you, at a loss for words. you softly pushed your hand to rest against his chest. your eyes widened in surprise. "your heart is racing" you declared with a soft whisper.

"yeah" jj finally found his words. "you're so close"

you looked up at him, surprised at what he was hinting at. "i'm sorry if i'm making you uncomfortable" you tried to step back, but his hand shot out, holding you in place by your elbow.

"jj" you muttered, your voice barely audible. you could feel your heart beat just as fast as his did.

"have i ever told you how beautiful you are?" jj's voice was soft and tender, like he was trying not to disrupt the calmness of the moment.

"no" you sighed, unsure. he came closer, your noses were almost touching. his eyes were ready to close, not far from kissing you. your voice rung out before he could do anything of that sort. "what about kie?"

"what?" jj blinked in surprise, stepping backwards.

"what about kie?" you repeated a little bit louder.

"what about her?" jj laughed, before he saw the confusion in your eyes.

"i thought there was something—“

"between me and kie?" he smiled, shaking his head. "well only that she knew about my crush on you"

"you have a crush on me?"

"i thought it was kinda obvious" he pointed a finger between the both of you. "can i please finally kiss you now, routledge?"

you smiled, your heart fluttering in your chest at his confession. "of course" you watched him step closer once more, before you grinned. "but what about—?"

"—oh would you shut up now?" he pushed his lips against yours, drowning out your giggle as your smile touched his mouth like it was supposed to.

[hopelesswritergall]

Better than revenge Teaser 💜

A little something to keep you guys happy while waiting 💜💜

She looks at life like it’s a party and she’s on the list

Ever since the interaction in the kitchen, you and Aemond seemed to drift closer to one another. Alys was still the cunt she was, but something seemed to have shifted in the way you acted around Aemond. Alys could sense it. She didn’t like it, that you didn’t seem fazed as much by her behavior and comments as much as you used to. Despite every insult and snide remark she threw at you, you still had a smile on your face as you replied. It irked her how she couldn’t get under your skin anymore, but she tried not to let it show, to keep up the charade. The charade of the loving, kind girlfriend. Everyone knew that she wasn’t, and the only one who didn’t, started to figure it out as well.

She looks at me like I’m a trend, and she’s so over it.

It was another day in the villa and another day that you were going to the beach. It was one of the best days so far, weather wise. The sun was bright and little to no clouds in the skies. A perfect day to lay at the beach and work on your tan and swim a bit. So you decided to take one of your newest bikinis that you bought for this trip and changed into it, in your room. Aemond, who was walking from his room to the gym, saw your door being slightly ajar. He quickly checked if no one else was watching before pushing the door more open, making sure not to make a sound, to watch you better. You had just taken off your shirt and bra, bending over to grab your bikini top from the floor. The view he got of your breasts was amazing. He let out a low whistle, “Looking good over there Princess.” You got up, as an automatic reaction placing your hands over your breasts, covering up. “Aemond! I didn’t notice you there…”

“Now, now Princess….. I fingerfucked you on the counter….and you feel the need to hide that goddamn perfect body from me?” As he spoke he slowly made his way further in the room. As he was about to reach you they heard an annoying noise, Alys’s voice…. God it was like nails on a chalkboard nowadays…. But she still couldn’t see the two of you together, that would cause even more drama. Aemond looked for a hiding place and quickly got behind the opened door, positioning it so that he couldn’t be seen. As you picked up the bikini piece and started to fasten it behind your back Alys walked in. “Oh Lily dear, that colour does not suit you darling. And are you sure you want to be wearing a bikini….I mean with your….body…. I personally would go for a swimming suit.” She said casually as if she didn’t just, bore your self esteem to the ground.

“Oh, well…..I liked the colour…” You simply said.

“Well just thought I’d let you know, you know, just girls looking out for one another. Would hate for Aegon to hate you, I mean everyone heard how you went at it that night… Toodles babe, I’m gonna find Aemond,” And with that the wicked bitch of the west left the room

I think her ever present frown is a little troubling, and

As soon as she left Aemond pushed the door shut, rage visible in his eye. The storm was brewing in his eye. He made his way over to you, anyone would have taken it as if he was mad at you… but those people couldn’t be more wrong. He was mad for you. Mad at his ‘girlfriend’. How could she say that to you? You were like a goddess who graced upon the earth…

“You know that she is wrong right? That her words hold no truth to it?” He said as he grabbed your hands in his own.

“Well…. Yeah of course. Red does suit me…right?”

“Darling…I don’t think red has ever looked better on someone than on you…. I mean red, this bikini looks stunning, the dress you wore on Aegon’s birthday last year, it was stunning, if you weren’t with Jason that night I would’ve ripped it off you. Plus the red on your cheeks two nights ago…when you were giving me the pleasure of hearing those moans of yours…. It was like heaven decided to change location to that kitchen. So yes, red suits you.” He finished his little rant and brought your hand to his mouth, kissing it. He looked around and let your hands go for a bit, locking the door.

“Aemond? What are you doing?”

“Isn’t that clear yet? I want to make sure red still suits you, I’m going to make you show me those red cheeks again. Oh look at that darling…..already blushing and I haven’t even begun…”

[yoongisleftearring]

I never actually mean it

× in which your coworker is insufferable but not more insufferable than a mean customer

-> pairing: barista!Hyunjin x barista!reader

-> genre: fluff, angst(?), enemies to ?

-> word Count: 0.7k

-> warnings: nothing, just mean customers

-> notes: not sure if this can even be called an imagine it's so short but this was a short story I made for my creative writing class that I wrote with hj in mind (I literally called his character Sam) so i hope you enjoy :)

Golden rays of light embraced the cafe; you had always loved how peaceful it was at this time before the red sign that hung on the door was flipped, welcoming those who walked past the quiet coffee shop. You hummed quietly to yourself as you emptied the beans into the hopper, the sound filling the cafe as well as the warm aroma of the coffee.

The bell on the door rang out, interrupting the flow of beans, causing you to jump and spill a few.

“No need to panic, I’m here now,” the man sang out, his long brown hair pulled back into a half ponytail, wisps falling out to frame his face. His smile was wide, dimples showing.

You scowled.

“You’re late.”

“By like five minutes,” he scoffed, walking past the annoyed barista to get to the small staffroom snuggled behind the bar. “Loosen up,” he muttered as he slipped past. You rolled your eyes. What a dick. 

This would be a long day.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The bar was small. Too small.

“Can you move? I need cream.” He asked but didn’t look for an answer before he pulled open the fridge door, which was inconveniently placed just below the coffee machine where you worked.

“Ever heard of manners?” Your eyes dropped down to his cream apron, which was slightly discoloured now thanks to the countless coffee stains. He managed to remember his name badge. ‘Hyunjin’ was written messily on the badge, and you wondered if customers could even make out what it said.

“No, what's that?” He smiled flippantly.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“About time you realised.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The bright golden rays started to dim, and streaks of orange and pink decorated the wooden tables of the cafe as they tried their best to penetrate the white polyester blinds covering the windows' top half. Artificial light filled the places that the sun couldn’t, but they were a warm white, dim enough not to drown out the natural rays.

“That looks like shit,” he voiced unnecessarily, staring down at the swirls of white that joined together to create something that looked more like a mushroom cloud than a heart. Or maybe something else. Your cheeks burned as you looked down at the coffee, which even you could admit looked a bit shit, if not slightly phallic.

“Oh god,” you groaned. Hyunjin let out a loud laugh. You felt your cheeks burn brighter. “Maybe if you weren’t constantly staring at me like a creep, I wouldn’t shake so much.”

“I think you just need to accept that you’re no good at latte art.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The sun's warm rays had cooled down, a white haze flooding in from the world outside, barely doing anything to light up the tables inside. The colour reminded you that it was almost time to go home. Tomorrow you would be back, but thank god Hyunjin had gotten the day off after grovelling to your boss the day before.

“What the fuck did you do?” A man spat, making your eyes widen, and Hyunjin glanced in your direction from where he stood, not even three feet away.

A lid sat on the floor behind the bar. He reached for the tissues that sat in a box before him, using them to wipe his sleeve.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I’ll get you a-”

“Don’t bother. You’ve done enough.”

“Is everything okay here, sir?”

“Are you the man in charge?”

He hesitates. “Yes.”

“Well, I suggest firing this fucking bitch because she’ll drive every one of your customers away!” He boomed, his face becoming dark red.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

He scoffs, spit flying from between his lips.

“Oh, I see what’s going on here.” His eyes were dark as he looked between the two baristas. “Good fucking luck with her,” he laughed spitefully before leaving the shop, the bell signalling his exit. Once you heard that chime, you turned and walked swiftly to the staffroom.

“I’m sorry, just a moment.” The waiting customer smiled politely, seemingly unbothered with the delay.

Hyunjin pushed the door open only to be met with the sight of you crouched over, sobbing.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“You know I never actually mean it, right?” Your eyes are red when you look up at him. “You’re the best damn latte artist in this mall, okay?”

[chuunai]

Romantic Killer - Chapter One; Time Flies By (1/2)

Modern Sniper AU! Nakahara chuuya x Sniper Best Friend! gn! reader

Synopsis: You and Chuuya Nakahara are a sniper duo from the Port Mafia, having taken care of each other from as far back as your memory goes. No parents, no family, just each other. Living in an apartment as friends by day, blowing brains out of targets at night. Sure, the money isn’t that good. But it’s not like you can go back, right?

TW: Throughout this fanfic series, there WILL be descriptions of gore/blood, death, brief mention and depiction of starvation (not an ED though), angst, prostitution and stupid people who don’t know romantic love from platonic love. It’s not that bad in the beginning, but I will ramp it up as the series progresses.

A.N: Criticism and feedback is welcome and appreciated because this is my first fanfic series and I’m running on low energy.

—

10:30 P.M

It’s dark. Silent, too. Clouds drift over Yokohama, blocking out the moon’s light. The heavy rain poured over all, drenching the ground. It’s all so wet, a heavy humid night. A utility pole happens to be nearby, sticking up in the ground. The wires stick out in all directions, thin and sturdy. Two birds rest on a wire, one a color that resembles blood. The other? Oh, it’s pure white. A stark difference from its companion nearby. Two different creatures, yet in this moment they’re here.

Together.

Together, like Chuuya Nakahara and you. Here he is, laying down on his stomach, sniper rifle perched on the edge of the building, finger on the trigger. The wind occasionally ruffles his hair, the ginger strands resting on his shoulder. A quiet night, that’s what it is. Save for the rain. It soaks him to the bone, clothes clinging to his frame. Every few seconds, he has to wipe his eyes of the water.

Fuck. He should’ve brought an umbrella like you.

You’re behind him, clutching your own gun under the comfort of the umbrella. Waiting for that inevitable shot he would take.

Information from the Port Mafia had detailed an enemy gang who had their own sniper out tonight as well. A good one, allegedly. Too good to be alive. It’s why you two are both out on February 14th. A rainy day where love floods through the city as lovers celebrate each other. No couple here, though. Just a duo. Your duo.

Nothing’s new. Not when it’s been this way for years. Just him and you.

Chuuya’s always had your back, and you’ve always had his. On the streets. On the rooftop. On days where things weren’t so terrible, and on days where it was terrible.

Before as orphans, sleeping in abandoned warehouses where Chuuya would stay up all night, keeping watch. A jacket - his - would cover you for warmth, even if he’d be cold. How when he got food, he gave more to you. You looked so thin, and he was scared shitless you’d die of starvation.

So he went hungry so you could eat more. Hungry until the Mafia found them. Inducted them into their organization and roles.

Now as fucking Mafia members, sharing an apartment even though you two could easily afford your own now. But it’s home. Where memories were made - eating shitty takeout, gossiping about co-workers and having a sleepover party every night.

Blacking out those memories of the past. And looking forward to the future.

And in the future, he’d still be there. As a friend, confident or hell - maybe even more. It didn’t matter. As long as you were happy and safe, Chuuya was okay with his life.

Okay with the work they did now.

His ears catches the sound of your gentle hums, a small smile pricking at the corner of his lips. It’s been a while since Chuuya last heard them. A good contrast to the dead silence you two were stuck in. A bit of chatting never hurt anyone. Shifting a bit, Chuuya’s voice stuck out against the pouring rain, hoping you’d speak back and not be a rule abiding bitch.

“I hate this rain. It’s so fuckin’ wet.”

And he did hate it. Especially without an umbrella and when they were in the middle of an area containing nothing about abandoned house projects and crumbling buildings. A few puddles had formed on the roof, much to his disdain.

“That’s what she said.”

Did you have to? Did you REALLY have to? Chuuya groaned, mentally facepalming himself for walking into that one. You both were the same age - twenty two - and here you were making jokes that a middle schooler would.

“Did you have to?”

“Have to what?”

Fuck you. You totally did know what, but he gives up on it. You’re a cheeky one who never likes to be straightforward with him.

“I- nothing. Hey, do me a favor and get your ass over here, okay? The umbrella too. You can at least cover me too.”

Your footsteps make sounds on the puddles nearby as you stroll over to him, sitting down nearby and begrudgingly covering him with it. A few raindrops roll off the edge of the umbrella, finding their way onto the back of your neck. Chuuya stifles a comment at that, not wanting to lose his umbrella privileges.

“Thanks.”

A small mutter comes from his lips as his shoulder touches yours, not even flinching when your free hand reaches up to play with his hair. He’s too used to it all. The random times where you jump onto his back. Braiding his hair while he naps on the couch at home. Painting his fingernails pink while he’s blackout drunk. This is one of your tamer moments.

“Geez, Chuu. Your hair’s so friggin’ soft. I’m gonna use your hair products when we get home.”

A side-eye from Chuuya.

“I bought them. They’re mine. Not yours, you thief.”

He’d almost always give up his things to you. Clothes, hairties, snacks, etc. You always won, sadly.

“You owe me. Don’tcha remember when you borrowed my rings and lost them?”

He did. Chuuya remembers that very well.

“Fine.”

Another ‘fuck you’ passes through his mind. Minutes go by in relative silence coupled with the occasional bickering. You went back to your corner of the roof, leaving him once again soaked to the bone from the rain. Chuuya regrets not letting you do the assassination for tonight. Now you were dry in your little bubble, being the back-up in case someone tried to rush up the stairs at them.

Boring. This was all so boring. When was the action?

It didn’t take much longer.

The building opposite of them containing the supposed sniper for the night had a shadow suddenly pop up, Chuuya’s body automatically lining up the shot as a gunshot bursts out of his gun. He’s expecting to see blood spurt out of the body, the thud on the concrete.

Nothing.

Instead, as he recovers from the recoil of the shot, your cry of warning rings out too late as another crack shoots out from nowhere.

First, a bloom of hot pain in his collarbone. His ears are ringing a bit, mind dazed and shocked and unable to register how your fingers tug him to safety behind a parapet. Damn it, he thinks. Must’ve been a decoy puppet of sorts. God, how could he have been so stupid as to not think of that?

He’s Chuuya fuckin’ Nakahara. Best sniper in the whole of the Mafia’s men.

Second, the pain intensifies as he slowly comes to his senses, eyes focusing on the sight of your crying self. His heart began to beat faster - not only due to blood loss - but because it hurt so damn much to see you cry.

“Hey- don’t cry. I’m okay.”

Fingers shakily rise to rest on your arm, feeling the warm flesh under the fabric of his gloves. Chuuya’s not dying. Not now, not ever. He’s not done protecting you.

“I’m not dying, you hear me? I’m not fuckin’ dead yet.”

A load of shit, coming from him. The man with blood flowing from his collarbone as he clutches onto you like a child. It’s pathetic looking, and a wave of self-consciousness greets his body. You don’t give a crap though. He’s dying, no time to focus on how child-like and dependent Chuuya is right now.

“I’m not crying, dipshit.”

Your fingers tightened on his shirt as you choke out a reply. That comforts him. He couldn’t be dying if your banter happens even now.

“Sure you’re not. Fuck- this hurts.”

Another quick retort from you, filled with sarcasm and a desperate attempt at normalcy. That it was just another day in your shared apartment rather than him bleeding out in your arms.

Normal normal normal. It’s normal.

“I wonder why. Couldn’t be the fucking gunshot.”

Heh.

It’s true. It hurts so bad. Sharp shudders of pain explode all over his body. His heart, his chest, his head.

Thirdly, Chuuya Nakahara is dying. He’ll confess to that now. The world slowly swirls above him, your voice and sniffles tuning out as you desperately request for medics from the Mafia.

The stars are a mix of bright dots in the night sky.

The rain pours. The umbrella lies forgotten. Water drips down your bodies as he stays in your lap, bleeding out on what others consider a happy day. So much water. Damn, if he was going to go out, it could’ve been in better weather. Not this mess of wind and rain. His shirt is now a color of red, dulled by the water sinking further down on you two.

Chuuya tries to manage a smile. For you. For his best friend.

His everything.

“It’s okay.”

It’s really not. Especially to you.

“The fuck, Chuuya? It’s not okay, okay? Stop talking like you’re dying.”

He is. Chuuya can feel life slowly ebb out of him, his limbs feeling like jelly now. Your arms tighten around him, clutching onto the wet fabric of his shirt. His eyes focus on yours, that smile not leaving his face just yet.

“Chuuya. Chuuya, no. Keep your fucking eyes open.”

Chuuya’s eyelids are woozy. So, so tiring. He needs a nap. Even if it was cold and raining, your arms were cozy and warm.

A short nap.

So he takes a nap, eyes slowly shutting as life flooded his memories. His life, which Chuuya considered having started at twelve years old.

When he met you.

——————

A.N: Hi! So, if you made it this far (thank you if you did <3), this is just like part one of chapter one. I’m planning for the second half to be really long, so I’m going to take a while on that.

Please leave feedback and criticism so I can improve on my writing! Have a good night/day boys, girls and squirrels!

[unsleepingtales]

Wooo I’ve got my laptop back and I’m ready to rumble! Also this episode is under two hours which means I might actually finish it tonight! Onwards to Burrow’s End Episode 7 :)

Stoat facts!

I love the anti-surveillance makeup. It’s such a good statement. Aabria your mind is so powerful.

Ooh ok Siobhan’s Jaysohn-dirt has been replaced by blue streaks. Fun.

Also Jasper’s lightning bolt has become much more stylized! I love analyzing the makeup and I love how much the makeup team are so on board with themes

What a fun way to Start an episode. I am immediately stressed.

SIOBHAN’S SHIRT SAYS BORN TO LOVE MY AUNT <3

The concept of GM inspiration is so fluid I love it. Every GM treats it differently but the idea of it is just. I love what you’re trying to do so here’s a bit of help.

Erika Ishii pulling some shit right out the gate I love you

Oh that image of her claws shattering is so painful

Hello?????

What the fuck man

Aabria what do you mean an arena. Why are you calling it that.

WHAT

Oh my god okay. Okay okay okay.

(They are FRIENDS. Aabria and Erika are FRIENDS and they are STORYTELLERS and they are GOOD AT IT.)

I’m fine I’m so fine and I have a regular amount of emotions about storytellers working together and being close and knowing each other’s storytelling styles so deeply that whatever they need to do is fine

Ooh we get to see what divine sense looks like without Lila’s help!

It is so deeply satisfying and correct that they are prioritizing this. Nothing else in this strange room matters until family is taken care of.

Ooooh Lila re-spec! No longer an arcane trickster, now with two levels of wizard!

Oh that is HORRIFYING

THAT ONE HAS A GAS MASK?? AND A POPE HAT?????

Ick ick ick ick ick

They’re so big oh my god

Poor Sybil :(

Hhhhhhhhhhhhh

Diversity win I suppose

A level five arcane trickster could already cast things but yeah I get that being a wizard is exciting ok

(I am unreasonably loyal to the rogue class sorry I respect your choices Izzy)

Okay well now I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about but sure cast fog cloud go off

Why do the stoats have a pope. Why.

BRO-

Oh dear god.

They’re gonna die.

Jesus Christ those minis are horrifying

Yeah no I am Crushed that Sybil is gone.

Hmm. Concerning.

Oh my god oh my god

I am so physically uncomfortable right now actually

Like it’s fine I’m fine but AAAAA???

You just got 47 points of damage but it’s not your fight?????

Fucking excuse me

Hi, Aabria? My beloved mutual Aabria Iyengar? Politely and with all the love in my heart. What the Actual Fuck.

Ooh Secrets. That’s fun.

Oh thank god. I’m gonna cry. Yes I’m stressed about Ava and whatever the secret was that Aabria had to go around the gm screen for but yay Sybil.

BITCH WHAT

BABE HOW DID YOU DO THAT

Oh I cannot wait for adventuring party tomorrow to find out what the fuck was going on back there

Oh my god did Erika put more blue sparkly eyeshadow on while they were out of the dome. Because that’s fucking iconic holy shit.

Yo what.

OOF

Oh the wolf’s gonna go? Is the wolf gonna go Aabria? Are we sure? The wolf could just go to brunch. It could just get bellinis.

I so deeply relate to Izzy’s visible stress. This is also how I behave when I’m stressed in combat.

Also the math thing. That too.

Oh that’s Disgusting

The wolf is made of acid 😭

WHAT

Fucking excuse me. What the actual fuck.

What is with with these children and simultaneous nat 1s

Mage Slayer 👀

I love it when they use things that I then get to deep dive research

HELLO?

Oh my fucking god.

Some feats are OP and some are real fucking specific

Oh we love a channel divinity moment here

I am so tense

HELLO????????????

THE WOLF OF THESEUS????

AABRIA. AABRIA.

Yeah no gas mask stoat freaks me the fuck out.

THIS DOESN’T FEEL LIKE MY PROBLEM 💀💀💀

We’re cheering for mediocrity at this point. Yeah.

What does that mean. Help me.

Oh yeah Thorn take control of the wolf?? Was that the hint??

What a fucking horrifying creature

23 AC??? Holy shit

The editing is going to make me lose my mind

Oh jesus

YES LAY ON HANDS???

That’s so cool

I love how willing Aabria is to roll with their shenanigans

Babe your kid has two hit points??

This is so deeply troubling.

Oh dear god

“The radical change that can happen when you are kind in the face of doom can change the battlefield.”

Them <3

Ok thank you

I jump normally 🤬 I’m normal 👹

NECROTIC??? Ava deals necrotic now??

Hellish rebuke?? What’s their patron?? Is this a homebrew stoat thing allowing them to use a warlock spell as a non warlock or are they a warlock and if they are a warlock what is their patron is it the blue I need to know please

Oh my GOD

What is this bit I love it

Thank you Siobhan <3

Oh Tula takes control of the wolf?? Sick.

What the fuck man

Oh noooooo

Rashawn the person cast vicious mockery

The rules lawyers are rules lawyering

That is funny and that did happen

Jesus Christ

What a powerful way of saying that

HELL YEAH

Aaaaaaaaaaaa

Damn

Oh shiiiiiiiiit

OH SHIT

I love Dungeons and Dragons guys. I really love this game.

She???

Concerning. Hm.

Would curing a disease work or just fully kill her

What the fuck. What the actual fuck Aabria and Brennan and oh my god I’m gonna lose my goddamn mind

Oh my god jesus FUCKING christ I’m gonna lose it I have lost it I’m not gonna SLEEP tonight and that’s a PROBLEM

Anyway. Great episode gang. Nice job. Can’t wait for the talkback. To discuss. Whatever the fuck that was.

[breathenbounce]

Avoid Distractions Daily

I am cursed and blessed with personality disorders. One of them is known as ADHD which stands for attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. The wonderful is I can do multiple things well and have mad multitasking skills. The bad thing is sometimes during my multitasking, I get distracted by things that have nothing to do with the task at hand, oh look my cat is playing ball. OK where was I. Just a joke.

Unfortunately it is the joke that everyone says when talking about ADHD. Usually it's a squirrel but I wanted to be creative. ADHD has a host of symptoms. Obviously hyperactivity is one, yelling out inappropriate things is another. Having trouble organizing. Loses things all the time. Doesn't follow through on instructions. The DSM-5 lists all of these as possible symptoms. Six gets you the prize. The magical diagnosis. Tada.

Sure it is hard living this way. I do lose things and forget what I did with them. Sometimes I will look for my phone and it's in my hand. I will sometimes get lost when someone is talking to me. I am so happy I learned more about empathetic listening, but I still have work to do. Remember, however, I am practicing. That's we do in life is practice. Practice makes progress.

However, my creativity knows no boundaries. I remember things like you wouldn't believe. Sure my short term sucks, but my long term is phenomenal. I am a great conversationalist, as long as I stay on track. I have so much energy. I can do three yoga classes in a day. Don't believe me, ask my friends, they'll tell you. One said I suffer from FOMOF. Fear of missing out on fitness. That's the beauty.

So the new way I look at disorder is what does disorder actually mean? The APA says any persistent and repetitive of behavior that violates societal norms or rules AND seriously impairs a person's functioning or creates distress in others. Yeah its like a fucking mosquito is in my brain and just keeps biting me. I know I have talked about my BPD as well. I won't even go into the negatives of that, but my capacity to feel is very deep. When I love I really love, when I hate, well you get the picture.

But this isn't about the mental health industrial complex or the DSM. This is about battling the distractions in our lives. I used my time to highlight ADHD. It is so easy to be distracted in our day to day lives. Especially when we have these little phones that really take away our attention. So much advertising in the world to take our attention off of the road. I mean those digital ones are such a bitch. While in meditation, we may have little thoughts distract us from our breath.

It is imperative that we always follow our breath. That is the secret sauce. The other thing we can do if we find ourselves on another task is pause. Take a moment, and remember what you were working on first. While in meditation, if a thought comes up, no matter whether its positive or negative, notice the thought, and then let it go. You know how you watch the sky and clouds move. Think of these intrusions as little fluffy cars moving along.

One thing I have done lately is made a to do list and have tried to stick to that as much as possible. If i feel like I am going rogue on myself I look at my list. Unless it's super important or emergency, if it's not on the list I don't do it.

The key is discipline and training yourself to limit distractions. We can start with meditation. The practice of feeling the air come out of your nose and tickle your upper lip and sticking with that feeling. If you get distracted by one of those little thoughts, you can always begin again. Start over. There's no shame in starting over. We can take what we learn from sitting to our everyday life, and then put the practice to work. Also remember to give yourself grace. This is a crazy world we live in, and so many people want your attention. Not just your loved ones and friends and co- workers. Corporations and advertisers want to get your attention. The television wants to get your attention. Social media wants your attention. What you put your focus on, and how much discipline you take will be the guiding light to success.

I have a very short attention span, I know. However I keep practicing. I have good days and I have bad days. I can stay focused for a long time, and sometimes II fall off the attention train. I have learned how to give myself grace. You should too. Grace is good.

Remember you are a wonderful human being. Don't let anything distract you from that. Keep going. Keep working. You got this.

M

[legendaryoikawa]

haikyuu boys and your moments with them

note: female reader insert

warnings: tooth rooting fluff, slightly nsfw, mentions of alcohol, some grammar issues because I didn’t proofread this, sorry 😔

starring: bokuto, semi, matsukawa, tsukishima, sakusa, kageyama and goshiki

thank you for 1,7k!!!

bokuto kotaro: unplanned dates + things he do for you

“hey hey hey babe”

“why?”

“let’s go on a date, i miss u”

The little moments with bokuto is something that you will never forget. Those unplanned dates with just him in his sweats and unruly hair. Those date with him at the park with just him lying on your lap, admiring your face with a cheeky smile painting his lips. Or the way his hands playfully trace small circles on your lap playfully.

Those moments with him that’ll make you neglect your schoolworks in an instant because he pulled out a shenanigan on you (with the help of akaashi, so it’ll look convincing that bokuto is really in pain, but surprise bitch, it’s a prank) but truth is he just want to see your face because volleyball has consumed his time. And you’ll just smack him off for scaring you but he’d just kiss you in return. Kisses that are too strong with passion and desire. He gives more to the point you would be drowning with his passionate spirit.

You love it when he does this small thing where he tugs your stray away hair behind your ear. You always ask him why, but instead of answering your inquiry, he’ll just pull out a bouquet of handpicked flowers from the park and will hand to you.

“You ask why? Is it wrong to admire how absolutely stunning you are?”

sjDJHDBJSB DEAD

semi eita: when he invited you to a nearby gig

beautiful boy invited you and you thought you were just dreaming so he flicked you on your forehead 🥰💀

One thing that you should be taking with you especially when you’re going for a gig is a fucking jacket. Regardless of the event being indoors or outdoors, a fucking jacket is a must.

But you might be someone who lives under the rocks and decided to wear a full glam without taking a jacket to warm you off.

Yet, the night is already starting. Night sky is deep with velvety clouds and twinkling stars. Going back would be such a pain and Semi might be annoyed if you’d pull out a grand entrance because you’re so late. Heaving a sigh, you pulled over the venue where the gig is at. You saw him at the entrance with his signature grey hair styled perfectly and his hands stuffed into his jeans.

He gave you a quick look. “Hey.”

You let out a breath, “hey.”

You noticed that there were no people. No noise. Hell, there weren’t a gig to start with. “Semi?”

“I know. But this is the only thing i could pull of just so i could ask you on a date.”

sakusa kiyoomi: when you know you both share mutual feelings but there is something holding both of you back

you and sakusa both know you share some deep seated feeling towards each other yet neither both of you decided to talk about it.

you fell hard for him even more when you were dead shit drunk (yet, you are still aware of everything around you, however you have the guts to act carelessly even around sakusa) and you decided to tease him by sitting on his lap, when you barged into his dorm room after going hom from a sorrority party.

It really took him by surprise at how vulgar you are with your words. How straightforward you were around him. When in reality when you’re sober, you’d never dare to talk to him, let alone straddling on his lap. Or the way you look at him slowly beneath your lashes. No matter how hard sakusa tries to shut his thoughts, but he wishes to see more of this side of you.

He could smell the reek of alcohol on your breath yet he made no complains whatsoever because it’s you. It’s fucking you. And, he’ll never throw a fit even if it disturbs his personal confort zone, because it’s you that we are talking about here. And, you are in a state of vulnerability because of alcohol, now isn’t a time for him to be a brat about hygiene or whatever.

You whispered, “why are you such a stone, sakusa?”

He didn’t quite understand what you meant by that, but he chose to shut up and stare at your deep, tired eyes. Those eyes that captivated him. Those eyes of yours that he wishes to stare more at.

“I like you so much,” you slurred. “You and your bitchiness about people around you. Y-you..” you paused, shifting yourself comfortably on his lap while you gripped on his shoulders.

Sakusa could hear his own frantic heartbeat. Did you really mean it? But he knows, every shit that a drunk says, is nothing but the truth.

“I l-like you l, ya know that?” You grinned and tumbled but sakusa was fast enough to hold you on you waist. He burried his face onto the crook of you neck and whispered but loud enough for you to hear, “i like you too, but you’re disgusting right now.”

The next day was a beautiful disaster. With him and you in bed.

tsukishima kei: a study date with him at the library

having kei as your tutor could be really cold but what choice do you have?

Kei isn’t the type to sugarcoat things just because he wanted to be the type to give sympathy. But no. He will lash out if your essay is shit and he’ll even rub it onto your face that your choice of words aren’t passing his high standards. Not even a bit. That is how Kei is.

Yet, he knows when to stop with his venomous words. Especially when he knows you were having a bad day and so he decided to act more docile so he wouldn’t hurt more of your feelings.

Study dates with him isn’t too romantic because he prioritizes both of your academic success. But there will be time where he will let you snuggle close to him when the library’s air condition is making you cold. Or when he lets you doodle little dinosaurs on his forearms while he watches you under his stern, golden eyes.

“Why do you keep on playing with my hair? You should be studying your biology, dumbo.” He isn’t annoyed. In fact, he doesn’t want you to stop, he’s just too tsundere to admit.

But you know it well that he loves it so you play with his locks even more while leaning over to place a chaste peck on his cheeks.

Kei flipped his book and whispered. “Why do I love a fucking goner?”

kenma kozume: when he immediately hugged you after his stream

Kenma isn’t the type to be suave with words. But he expresses his affection through action because according to kuroo, that is much more cool.

He just finished a stream and gave away his honest review on how this palace dungeon game is. But is didn’t fazed him at all. In fact, he didn’t liked the graphics at all. A solid five for gamer!kenma

What made him scared is that it is already eleven in the evening yet you were nowhere to be found.

But his anxiousness subsided when he heard the familiar clanking of the front bell. And there you stood at the door, looking gloomy and kenma made sure to act up immediately.

It took you by surprise when he stood up from his seat and immediately wrapped you around his body. The familiar whiff of his cologne mixed with his warmth. This is more than you asked for.

kuroo tetsurou: when he makes fun of you because he likes you so much

King of provocation and chemistry nerd kuroo always love to mess up with you. And you can’t find a way to get to him back or?

“You know what?” Kuroo began.

You raised a brow, “what?”

“You’re small.”

“You’re just tall, Kuroo. Now,” you raised a pencil towards his direction, “leave me alone.”

Kuroo clicked his tongue. Now is the time for him to continue on further to pester you. He isn’t being a jerk though, but he just finds it cute especially when you get agitated with just him and his presence. The way your fist curling and he can’t help but to admire your annoyed face. You’re so damn cute but you just don’t even notice the notable fucking obvious.

Kuroo decided to play with your hair but you had other things in mind. To get back at him just for him to get a taste of his own medicine.

You exerted a lot of effort to pull his collar down just to match you eye level with his. You smiled, “is it just playing with my hair that you could pull off, kuroo?”

You’re donw with him concealing his feeling because he has no guts to come up to you. So you did him a favor. Something that’ll distract him for the rest of his day.

matsukawa issei: 3am dance with him

You were washing the dishes at night when you felt two strong arms encircling your waist.

“Hey.”

Matsukawa’s arms encircled your waist as you washed the dishes one Thursday night. The way he hummed the familiar tune of ‘close to you’ while swaing both of your bodies gracefully. You missed him, especially his familiar scent that smelled like home.

He shuffled his feet so he could have more grasp on the hem of your shirt. His thumb caressed the soft skin that showed from his hold.

You grabbed the sponge and lathered it with soap as Matsukawa clinged onto you. It was a peaceful night, with him on your side, the splashing of water and the sound of his lips kissing the crook of your neck.

You smiled as his kisses grow more playful. But Matsukawa wanted to see your face and so he twirled you so he could plant a kiss onto your lips.

You grinned. “Well, well, well, fancy seeing you here Mister Matsukawa.”

He gave you a cheeky smile back, “well, well, well, too, it was a pleasure seeing your beautiful face, Mrs. Matsukawa.”

You decided to play along with him as he swayed both of your bodies in a slow dance. “I doubt. You have plenty of companions at work, right?”

“Oh please. Among all that I’ve seen, i will always choose you.”

kageyama tobio: late night dates with him at the downtown convenience store

He would act like he just wanted milk but truth is, he wanted you more than the milk he’s addicted to.

“You’re such a dumbass, y/n.” Kageyama scolded when you tripped on your feet but good thing he was there to catch you. He resisted the urge to smile as you gave him a cheeky smile and brushed off the incident like it didn’t cut your self esteem. Humiliation? You don’t know her.

You immediately plopped onto the familiar stool of the convinience store after you grabbed ome of your favorite sponge cakes.

“Stop eating the poor cake like there is no tommorow, baka”

You made a face. “Call me a glutton, but these are the best among all sponge cake made.”

Kageyama raised a brow. Confused, he leaned in but you raised the empty container to his face. You suppresed a laugh, “Told you, I’m a glutton.”

He frowned. “I really don’t need to take a bite of that cake just to have a taste.”

“Wha—?”

He kissed you. And you were right. The sponge cakes were tasty.

goshiki tsutomo: walking home with him from the late academy

Nothing’s more enjoyable than having goshiki’s presence with you after going home from a hellish class from the academy.

“I am the future ace! You heard that, y/n?” Goshiki proudly yelled while both of you were walking home from the supplemental classes. You tried to match his energy. Yet, no matter how hard you try, you were just too drained to yell with him.

Goshiki had managed to read you even when you didn’t said it to his face. No words were needed because he knows you well like you were his very own diary. He pulled you by your cardigan to enclose you in his lean body.

He heard him whisper as he burried his nose on your hair. “You can always rely on me, idiot. If you’re tired, then tell me so i could somehow make you happy.”

—

Hello!! Sorry if this was tOO LONG I GOT CARRIED AWAY HAHAHAHAHHA but i hope you enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it!! Also, thank you for 1,7K U GUYS ARE THE BEST! Love you all!! 🥺💖💖💖

[mercy-burning]

Affection

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer and Y/N decidedly hate each other. But when a near-death experience puts one of them in a coma, their mutual hatred might have to take a backseat— Or will it? Category: Angst / Happy Ending! + Humor and a lil bit of Fluff Content: Strong language, Reader is in a coma, mentions of injury, kissing Word Count: 2.6k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This one’s for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) September Writing Challenge, Enemies To Lovers! I have another one coming up as well, but this idea wouldn’t get out of my head ever since I watched The Abyss with my dad and I had to get it out 😅 I hope you like it!!

———

I swear to fucking God, if this motherfucker really thinks he—

That was the last thing Y/N thought before she was knocked out cold.

With her line of work, it was natural to assume that she was thinking about the unsub, but unfortunately the criminal she and her team were tracking down was the farthest thing on her mind. Spencer would have chastised her for it— letting something else cloud her thoughts while she was in a dark alley, alone, and with a serial killer on the loose.

"You should be smarter than that!" she could hear him say in that high pitch he always carried when he was upset— especially with her. "If you don't get yourself killed one of these days, then it'll be the rest of us!"

Thinking about it made her blood boil.

"It's your fault," she wanted to tell him. "I had to blow off some steam because you were pissing me off!"

The only thing was... She couldn't tell him.

Well... She could.

He just couldn't hear her, because no one could.

It was like some stupid, cliché movie, where you found yourself standing over your dying body and having to choose whether to live or not. It seemed like the obvious choice, to fucking live, but... Y/N found herself wandering around her hospital room, yelling into the void and attempting to jump back into her own body.

Nothing was working.

And when Spencer showed up, his face red and his hair and clothes all messed up, she wanted to scream at him.

"Hey!"

Nothing. He was practically lifeless as he drifted to the chair next to her bed and sat down. It was nearly impossible to read from his expression and body language how he was feeling, and that alone was enough to make her angry again. (Not that the anger had really gone away since waking up next to her comatose body, of course.)

"Hey! Dumbass!"

Still nothing.

As Spencer just blankly stared down at Y/N's bed, she decided she'd had enough.

"SPENCER FUCKING REID, IF YOU DON'T HELP ME RIGHT NOW I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL HAUNT YOUR ASS UNTIL THE END OF ETERNITY, AND I'M GONNA LAY FAT, STINKIN' GHOST SHITS IN YOUR SHOES, DO YOU HEAR ME? AND—"

"I hate you."

It was a bold enough statement to stop Y/N in her tracks, no matter how quietly he'd mumbled it. She knew for sure that he didn't like her, after years of constant bickering and dirty glares and whatever else, but... The word 'hate' was like a knife that sliced through her joking rage and stopped the whole world around her.

If she wasn't already out of her own body, she just knew she would have felt her soul leave.

Spencer didn't hate anyone. Not that she was aware of, anyway. He found nearly everyone delightful, and vice versa... But for some reason, he hated Y/N.

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, well... Feeling's mutual, I guess..."

"You're stupid, and reckless, and you don't think. And you're a goddamn nightmare to work with... You know what— You're a stone-cold bitch."

His words made her physically step backwards, and it felt like if she were a cartoon, there might have been steam coming out of her ears.

"Yeah, well jokes on you, you make it easy," she seethed. "Fuck you!"

"How... How dare you..." he continued, anger reddening his face.

Y/N watched as he balled his fists and leaned in a little closer to her body, his voice tight and strained. "How dare you walk into my life and boss me around and make it impossible to breathe... From the moment I met you, you've brought out this... this fire in me that I can't put out no matter how hard I try, and it's insufferable—You're insufferable, and I hate you, how dare—"

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a shortness of breath. Spencer breathed in, loud and choked, and the next breath he let out was nothing short of a sob. His eyes squeezed shut, tears rolling down them and his hands clutched the bedsheets with a vigor and rage that Y/N had never seen from him, even in all the years she'd spent visibly getting on his last nerves.

"N—No," she choked out, feeling her throat tighten. "Don't... Don't turn into a sappy mess on me now, do you hear me, Reid? You hate me, don't... Don't..."

"I don't hate you," he whispered, wiping his eyes and reaching out to grab her lifeless hand. "I hate that you make me feel this way, but... I could never hate you..."

She wanted nothing more than to be able to squeeze his hand back, to tell him, not even necessarily with words but with a simple gesture, that she was right there and wasn't going to go anywhere.

She just... had to figure out how to make that true.

Still, Spencer kept going, a small laugh bubbling up through tears and phlegm. "But I will hate you if you die, because I just know you're gonna come back and haunt me for eternity... Probably... shit in my shoes or something."

Y/N barked a laugh that was true and pure... Happy, even.

The genius may have acted like he hated her, but it turns out he knew her pretty well, perhaps even fondly in one way or another.

To think— All those years she spent seeing him sneer at her, feeling his glare burn into her soul, the amount of times she caught him making faces or inappropriate gestures behind her back, all of it... And the whole time, he was probably doing it with a little flicker of fondness deep within the confines of his heart, which he swore to fill with nothing but hatred for her.

The thought made the little flicker in her own heart burn brighter.

As she wandered closer to her bed, beside Spencer and in front of her own body, she reached her hand out to see if she could touch his face, to give him something...

Even though she had no luck, something shifted when he spoke.

"Just... Come back to me, please? I know I'm not good at apologizing, but if it means I get you back... I swear that I will make up every horrible thing I've ever done or said to you. Just... Please don't leave me."

He laid his head down in his hands and tried not to cry again, every said horrible thing replaying on a loop in his brain like some kind of taunt. He wished more than anything for a chance to make it up to Y/N, and now he might not ever be able to.

"You think I'd leave this mortal earth without getting the chance to kick your ass?"

Everything was so fuzzy and light and brimming with these high emotions that Y/N almost didn't realize she was saying these words and Spencer was hearing them. She almost didn't feel the warmth of her bloodstream beneath layers of skin, the beat of her heart slowly coming back to life at the sounds and smells of the hospital room.

She almost didn't realize that Spencer was grabbing her now, his warm hands covering her cold ones and bringing them back to life as well.

"Screw you," he breathed with absolutely no malice to be detected in his voice.

They shared a smile so bright, no one would have been able to guess that they never got along.

TWO WEEKS LATER

Not only was she stuck at home doing nothing while on suspension (Yes, it turns out that storming off into an alley and not paying attention while on the job, just because a co-worker pissed you off, can get you suspended by Chief Strauss), but Y/N was also being visited by a daily rotation of her co-workers and friends and family, and her house was nearly covered in flower bouquets and baked goods.

It was a nightmare.

The sentiment was nice, sure, but if she had to move one more vase, she was going to start throwing them.

God, maybe Spencer was right, I am a stone-cold bitch...

Thinking of him also put a little damper on her mood.

He hadn't been to visit her once... And she figured that after their nice little moment at the hospital, he'd at least stop by with flowers or an "I'm glad you're not dead!" call, but there was nothing on his end. Not even a text message or a letter.

But for all she knew, their small moment of kindness could have been a figment of her concussed imagination.

Please, she thought, if I brought it up to him he'd probably just laugh in my face.

Rather than a laugh, Y/N heard the bright sound of her doorbell, which normally would have meant a fun unexpected visit or a date she was getting ready for, but by now it only meant another vase of flowers or a pie from a neighbor she still didn't remember the last name to.

Either way, she answered the door with as polite a smile as she could muster, and instead of finding a vaguely familiar neighbor or acquaintance, she found Spencer.

Though, to be fair, he was holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Well, this is a surprise," Y/N drawled, crossing her arms. "I don't even think you've ever been to my house."

She was surprised to see him nervous around her, rather than irritated. And she would have found it endearing had they not been practically mortal enemies from the moment they met... She was suspicious.

"O—Oh, yeah... I know, I just thought... I wanted to come see how you were doing... These are for you."

He held out the flowers, which were truthfully the pretties set she'd received, and it irked her. Because of course he of all people would be the one to tell which kinds of flowers she'd prefer.

"Thanks," she said, taking them from him and allowing him the space to come inside. "Watch out, it's a maze in here..."

While she looked for somewhere to put the flowers on display, she could feel Spencer looking around her space, probably profiling what he could behind a sea of flowers.

"Hm."

Y/N sighed. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just... I'm surprised this many people actually like you."

Despite the nature of his observation, she found it comforting. That level of playful contempt was what she was used to, and it brought a sparkle to her eye as she turned to face him. "Ha... I'm not a complete bitch, you know."

"Sure."

Between the growing grin on his face and the smirk forming on her own, Spencer and Y/N found themselves falling back into a familiar rhythm. And yet, something about it was still... different.

So much so that Y/N felt honest-to-God butterflies in her stomach when he approached, hands retreating from his pockets and head tilting off to the side. His expression held that look he got when he was trying to figure someone out, usually an unsub. She hated to admit it to herself, but a little part of her always found that side of him extremely attractive.

And now that it was right in front of her?

She didn't know what to make of it.

"What?" she snapped, looking for an excuse to hide any and all attraction she was feeling.

Spencer stepped back a little, breaking away from whatever trance he'd just been in. "God, why do you always have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"You push away every single show of affection! Any time I'm trying to be nice, you just act like it's some big inconvenience to you!"

Y/N laughed. "Ha! That's what that was? Just now? When you insulted me, and then started stalking towards me with that look you get when you're interrogating an unsub? That's what you call affection?"

"That's not... That's not what that was!"

"Oh really? Then what was it?"

"It was part of the routine! Banter! Y—You know, that's our thing! We insult each other, and we act like we hate each other but we... We don't, really..."

The longer he went on, the faster her heart raced. This was the moment in the movie where he inevitably blurted out that he loved her, and in turn she would either kiss him or slap him, or slap him and then kiss him...

But Y/N was still feeling rather playful despite the swarm of butterflies in her stomach begging for some relief.

"Oh?" she prompted, taking a slow step closer to him. "We don't?"

Spencer seemed to get red immediately, and he avoided her eyes. "U—Uh... Well I... I thought... Maybe I read it all wrong, a—and I'm sorry if I did..."

She'd been getting closer meanwhile, and now they were practically toe-to-toe. He did his best to ignore her, taking a few steps back until she cornered him against the front door. And with the way he wasn't doing anything to get out of his predicament, she took that as his acceptance and took another leap.

"What..." she cooed, crawling her fingers up the front of his chest like a spider. "You like me? Hmm?"

When he finally looked down at her, she allowed herself to smile, albeit slowly and with calculation.

In a flash Spencer went from nervous to fed-up, weight seeming to visibly lift from his chest as he sank against the door. "You're messing with me..."

"It's so fun."

"You know what, screw you."

"Is that a promise?"

"Maybe it is. What are you gonna do ab—"

She didn't let him finish.

In an instant, Y/N lunged forward and pulled him down for a kiss.

Even though she thought he might have tried to take control of the situation, he ended up surprising her with a wanton moan as his hands clutched at her sides, holding on for dear life. Their bodies and tongues collided in a mess of years worth of pent-up tension, chaotic and wild and fiercely beautiful in a way that put even the greatest first kisses to shame.

And of course, Spencer had to go and ruin it.

He pushed her away and looked almost panicked. "W—Wait, are you even cleared to do this?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, reaching out for him again. "I'm fine."

"Y/N, you were in the hospital! I thought... I thought you were..."

She appreciated the sentiment, but with her entire body on fire from his touch, she decided she needed more of it. "Yeah, but I'm not... I'm very much alive, and you know what?"

He blinked back at her, watching carefully as she leaned in close to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"It's because of you. You make me feel... more alive than I've ever been."

"And... You're not messing with me this time?"

With a laugh,  Y/N shook her head and leaned up to brush her nose with his. "Nuh-uh... But if you'd like to, I'd love to mess with you in a more fun way. And maybe I'll even let you do it back..."

Spencer hummed, feeling himself gravitate towards her more with every passing second. "Deal."

He barely got the word out all the way before she was dragging him through the maze of flora and contained food and into her bedroom, where piece by piece, their hatred and fondness for one another combined to create the most exquisite of nights.

———

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[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous. ҉   next.

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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results). 

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be. 

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children. 

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy 

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim. 

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

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Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do. 

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

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“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point! 

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus. 

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping. 

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex. 

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him. 

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red. 

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!! 

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling. 

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!” 

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out. 

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you. 

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage. 

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her. 

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement. 

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.” 

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos​ - @fairywriter-oracle​ - @tsukishimawh0re​ - @ofstarsanddreams​ - @bbecc-a​ - @annshit​ - @leahh19​ - @letsloveimagines​ - @bellomi-clarke​ - @wineandionysus​ - @guiltydols​ - @onephootinfrontoftheother​ - @liamakorn​ - @thirstyfangirl​ - @lilysdaydreams​ - @pan-ini​ - @mxqicshxp​ - @tanchosanke​ - @yoshinorecommends​ - @flightsandfantasy​ - @liljennyx3​ - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible​ - @sinister-sleep​ - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat​ - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit​ - @unstableye​ - @simonsbluee​ - @shinyshimaagain​ - @ppopty​ - @siriuslystupid​ - @crapimahuman​ - @ofthedewthesunlight​ - @mythicalamphitrite​ - @artsyally​ - @corpsesimpp​ - @corpsewhitetee​ - @corpse-husbandsimp​ - @hyp-oh-critical​ - @roses-and-grasses​ - @rhyrhy462​ - @sparklylandflaplawyer​ - @charbkgo​ - @airwaveee​ - @creativedogs​ - @kaitlyn2907​ - @loxbbg​ - @afuckingunicornn​ - @fleurmoon​ - @yeolliedokai​

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[spideytingle616]

Laundry Day | P.P.

18+ only

Main Masterlist // Ao3 Version

Pairing: Roommate!Peter Parker x Female Reader

Summary: Pink, lacy, and in his pile… how could he not be curious?

Word Count: 2K 

Warnings: swearing, snoopy Peter, underwear, overuse of italics, and overall smutty themes/situations (Peter and reader are both 18+ and in college)

A/N: Why… do I do the things I do? I remember seeing either a dark Chris Evans or Steve Rogers blurb with a similar idea, but Tumblr crashed before I saw the user :((( I’ll tag it if I ever see it again (or if someone finds it for me), but until then enjoy. Cheers to my first smutty fic ever lol, maybe there’ll be a part two…

Alright, so maybe getting an apartment with his best friend and secret crush was a bad idea, but at the time he didn’t think much of it. Before college, you were always at one another’s places, and the two of you were always sleeping over. He really didn’t think sharing a place would be all that different.

But having a place that you considered actually yours, and not your family’s, has made you much more comfortable and relaxed.

More specifically, you’ve been much more comfortable wearing less.

Obviously, Peter didn’t mind. It was your place just as much as his, and you have been more than accommodating toward his hectic Spider-Man schedule. And if you were okay with wearing some boy shorts or just a bra on top, he was okay with admitting he rather enjoyed the view.

Not that he was always looking. He only lets himself check you out less than half of the time.

… okay maybe a little more than half. The point is, it’s not all the time.

The day started off normal, with the sun peeking out between the clouds. Peter was out in the living room doing homework, more or less confident in his answers. Who knew organic chemistry was such a bitch?

“I’m going out to study with MJ,” you announce, entering from the hallway. “I should be back later tonight. If you want, I could grab some Thai on my way back.”

Peter shrugs. “I could do Thai. Might make this work a little more bearable, to be honest,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, I need some comfort food too. Maybe if I flirt with them, they’ll give us some extra noodles.” You slip your jacket on. “Oh, by the way, could you do me a favor?”

The question where it all went wrong. It was too dangerous; he should have said no. There were too many risks.

“Could you pick up my clothes from the dryer? I didn’t get a chance to yet and I don’t wanna keep MJ waiting.”

He nods. “Sure, mine should be done soon anyway.”

“Thanks a ton, dude. You’re the best. I’ll see you later.”

Peter sends you a wave as he continues to stare into his laptop’s blue-lighted abyss. He does this for another two hours before he realizes that he’s done absolutely nothing. He shuts his laptop with a groan, closing his eyes as he slumps back on the couch. If he looked at one more carbon molecule, he swears his brain will explode.

Maybe he should just do something else instead, something productive that’ll keep his head (somewhat) straight.

Might as well do the laundry, because what can go wrong with that?

Peter heads to the basement and unloads his clothes into the laundry basket. It only fills up about two-thirds of the way, so he decides to just throw your stuff on top of his to save a trip.

Smart idea, right? 

He takes the basket to his room, still not motivated enough to do his homework. At this point, he should just keep going and put his clothes away. And with yours at the top, along with the fact that you’re bringing home takeout, he’ll just fold your clothes too. It’s the nice thing to do.

Peter sits down on his bed and begins folding your sweaters. He makes sure to be extra neat with them, folding it exactly like May showed him all those years ago. She’d probably cry if she saw him right now: he hated doing laundry as a kid.

He sets them into a nice stack and turns back toward the rest of the clothes, grabbing the shirt that was now on top. 

And that’s when Peter sees it.

A thong. A baby pink, lace thong, right on top of the basket.

Peter’s eyes widen. For a small amount of fabric, it sure got his attention. A wave of guilt floods his head. Hopefully, you remembered that you had such skimpy underwear in the wash before you asked him to grab your laundry.

He continues to stare, which makes Peter feel even more guilty. Even if you were okay with him grabbing your clothes, you probably didn’t mean it was okay for him to gawk at it.

He thinks for a moment; should he just… leave it there? It seems like the right thing to do, but his all of his clothes are beneath your underwear, so he’ll have to touch it eventually. And who knows if that’s the only one.

Fuck, is most of your underwear like this?

The thought makes him spiral. Guilt no longer clouded his mind, too busy thinking of what you looked like in your underwear. Peter pictures you wearing the lace under all those pretty sundresses you loved to wear in the summer, and beneath those short skirts that you wore in the fall.

He wonders if it was a matching set as he thinks of how you would look with a dainty, pink push up bra. As if your chest needed any help to look as amazing as it did. He could see the outline of them under those old t-shirts you wear to bed, and that was enough for the boy to get his radioactive blood going.

Oh shit.

Peter looks down to check- yep, he’s rock hard under his sweats.

It only comes as a slight shock to him; even when you walked around in those tight boy shorts that gave him the exact shape of your ass, he would only get a semi at most. And after five or so minutes, he was able to focus away from your butt and be fine for the rest of the night.

But this isn’t going away anytime soon, he’s fucking throbbing.

The guilt tries to resurface as he decides what to do. He checks the time; he still had another hour or so before you came back. If he did do anything, he would be good and done well before you returned. It’s not like you’d find out.

Plus, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s thought of you.

The door was already closed, and it was now or never. He lays down on his bed and blinks a few extra times, each one a quick reality check.

This was harmless. Private.

Peter bucks his hips up as he tugs his pants down to his mid-thigh. He keeps his boxers on, not quite ready to go all in. He’s got to ease in, and not in that way (well actually, kind of in that way).

His eyes close as he sucks in a slow breath. He rests his left hand on his leg as his right trails down on his stomach and to the elastic band of his underwear. He opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling, still fiddling with the stretchy material.

After a moment or two, Peter’s hand finally sinks lower and cups his member, and fuck, it already feels good. He continues to palm himself through his underwear and lets out a sigh of relief. His thumb pokes out to touch his tip, and immediately his hips thrust forward to meet the subtle pressure.

He slows himself down as his mind came back to you and those goddamn panties. Were they for special occasions only? How often did you wear them?

Have you ever touched yourself when you wore them?

The idea causes a low groan from his chest, making him ditch his boxers. Pulling them down to meet his sweats, his cock springs straight to his stomach, red and needy. With a deep sigh, his pace speeds up as he continued his fantasy.

Peter pictures you on your bed, with nothing but that on. You bite your lips before they part, now wet and shiny with your spit. Your hair was slightly messy, and he could see your eyes were wide and glassy, desperate for a release.

Your hand trails down to your pubic bone, and just like Peter you play with the lace. Maybe you twiddle with the pink bow at the top too; he’d like to think you did.

The other hand paths around your chest and stops between your breasts. You cup one of your boobs gently and brush your thumb against your hardening nipple, eliciting a breathless moan before quickly switching to the other one.

His hand tugs harder. Your moans probably sounded like a melody; he’d do anything to hear them right in his ears. Needy noises that begged for more. Something harder, faster, rougher.

Eventually, you wouldn’t be able to handle the teasing. You were always impatient, the idea of waiting killing you every time. It was amusing to watch, but if you were his, he would be merciless. He’d purposely deny your pleas just to teach you a lesson.

He imagines you tugging and kicking your underwear off in a hurry, ready to fuck yourself into pure bliss.

That’s when Peter stops himself, a naughty idea developing. He props himself up with his elbows and stares at the laundry basket, your underwear still on top, clear as day.

No… no he couldn’t do that. That was too far.

But when your dick was as angry and hungry as Peter’s right now, your morality starts to crack a little. Enough to make a bad decision or two.

People lose socks in the wash all the time… surely it could happen to a thong too.

He quickly sits up and snatches your underwear. If he went any slower, he would have surely stopped himself and regretted even thinking of such an idea. Yet right now, he so badly wanted to do this, even if it was extremely perverted.

It was a lot softer than Peter expected, the non-lace areas feeling almost silky to the touch. With his heightened scenes, the scent of your lavender detergent envelops his nose and calms his rapid heartbeat.

He tries to cover as much of his hand as he could, but with the shape and limited fabric, it only covers half of it. Still, it’s more than enough for him and his dirty thoughts as he starts to rub himself again, tending to his aching member.

The feeling is slightly strange at first. He could tell where his soft hand met the rougher lace and cotton. It doesn’t glide as easily as usual, but it’s nothing problematic. At least not for a pathetically horny Peter.

His head lulls back in pleasure, turning his fantasy back on. Your chest is lifting off your bed as your fingers rubbed against your clit feverishly. You were absolutely soaking at this point, your core clenching down hard. You desperately wanted to be filled up with something, or someone, but you weren’t going to waste time with that. Fingers were enough to get you where you needed to be, collecting the slick from your needy hole before touching yourself again.

Your legs started to draw closer together, a sign that you were about to come. The circular movements on your clit become rougher and sloppier as your jaw goes slack. Fuck, you were so close.

Peter was too. His breaths became shallow as his muscles became tighter. He can feel the lace furiously rubbing against him and it drives him fucking crazy. The idea of coming all over your nice panties was sending him over the edge.

He hears you moaning his name as you finish, legs shaking at the wave of euphoria.

“Peter, Peter, Peter…”

“-Peter?!”

He stops, eyes wide and hand still on his cock.

That last one was not in his head.

[cnderyne]

The True Experiment 

Summary: You visited Albedo, expecting the night to be like any other night, only to find out his true intentions 

The second part: The Conclusion

Warnings: Angst and Swearing. 

Word Count: 925 

A/N: I'm not really sure if anyone would read this but this scenario has been on my mind for a while. Idk if it's any good but happy reading <3 

You were fortunate. For the Pyro Vision at least. Less fortunate for the events about to transpire. The air in Drangonspine felt... colder than normal. It was a battle to venture up that mountain, with your boots soaked and lips blue. However, you could deal with it. Not because you had 5 layers of clothes on that boiled you alive while in Mondstadt with an extra pair of shoes in your inventory. Or even the Pyro vision that allowed you to light fires to rest and warm up. Instead, you travelled this dangerous path as frequently as you could to meet your perfect boyfriend. It was a pity he was rarely ever in Mondstadt despite being the chief alchemist. 

"Oh well, I can complain to him when i get there." You said under your breath while lighting a fire. The muscles in your body were starting to tense up and you didn't feel like doing some parkour to cross the destroyed bridge just yet. To pass the time, you decided to reminisce about past meetings with Albedo. 

Kaeya was the one who introduced him to you. You had picked some mist flowers and used it to treat your burns from fighting hilichurls. Kaeya was shocked when you told him your tale and immediately brought you to Albedo, who was working. He was courteous and cordial but only focused on his research after the initial greeting. The only time he looked up from his desk was when you spoke. His eyes lit up and muttered something about a perfect subject. He seemed to be interested in the mist flower. You had further encounters and rather quickly, mutual feelings bloomed. Now you two were dating. 

Watching the fire die into embers, you decided to continue on travelling as the sun was about to set. 

You finally reached the camp with a big smile on your face and saw him. Archons, Albedo looked radiant under the dimly lit lamp, writing away at whatever his new experiment was. The pen glided along the page with vigour but still remained graceful and fluent. He was and will always be beautiful. 

Deciding to surprise him, you carefully crept towards him. Those training routines really did pay off. You were about to slam your hands down on his shoulders when you saw what he was writing.

Experiment 1203 

Subject: Y/N L/N

Their feelings are stronger than anticipated. Whenever the subject is free, they come to Dragonspine and talk about their day or gossip. Although it's annoying, I will continue to listen to further develop their "love" for me. That is the aim of the experiment after all. 

"I know you're behind me," Albedo said bluntly. Rage began to cloud your mind and disgust began to slither around you. "How much did you read?"

"What the fuck is this Albedo!" You knew what it was. You just couldn't believe he would do that. 

"These are research papers for the experiment I conducted on you. Would you like to read it?" Your heart stopped. It was hard enough to realise he was using you as a test. 

"HOW CRUEL CAN YOU BE? WHY WOULD YOU EVEN SUGGEST THAT?" Tears were so close to falling from your face. 

"I thought you would like to read more about how I made you fall in love with me but I made the wrong assumption. I will include that in the report," You stood there, dumbfounded while he continued to write. "If you have nothing useful to say then you can leave. The experiment is over as you have found out."

"I know you are made of fucking chalk but Archons, I didn't know your master forgot to give you a heart while creating a pathetic bitch like you," The movement of his pen came to a hault but he never looked at you. "After all that time together, did you ever love me?"

"No. I'm incapable of that and just so you know, you were a great subject. It was so fascinating to diminish an esteemed knight into someone who would do anything for me."

"You are revolting," You could not stop the tears from falling. Albedo was your whole world. It is still unfathomable to you how he could do that. "I did everything for you but to know that you thrived off of feeling powerful makes me sick." 

He never said anything to you. He just kept staring down at the report. At least he wasn't writing. You resisted the urge to get violent with him, no matter how much you wanted to punch him right on that star. 

"It is so clear to me now why your master left you. He knew he created a monster. At least he knew when to stop things, too bad he forgot to stop your heart before leaving. Perhaps if you acted like chalk and dissolved in water he would come back."

"Shut up."

"Oh my! Were you hurt by that? I figured that master of yours would be a weak spot," he looked at me as I said that. "Finally showing your cowardice face? I really do hope you try to destroy Mondstadt. It gives me all the more reason to kill an abomination like you."

With that, you left. Your heart was shattered and your boots still soaked. You tried convincing yourself that you were more angry about the walk home than what had just happened but you were lying to yourself. 

Just as Albedo was when he said that he didn't love you.

[goofmemes]

The Legend of Vox Machina Episodes 1-6 Sentence Starters

“Why do we always play drinking games with a guy twice our size?”

“The greatest? I heard you couldn’t even rescue a cow from a burning barn.”

“Let’s keep things civil, friend. We’re not looking for trouble.”

“La, da, da, my lady’s rose I will pluck.  My love, it’s time for us to–”

“Does this mean we’re officially banned from every tavern in town?”

“We’ve got no money, no place to live and fսck all for prospects.”

“I mean, if protecting carts from swindlers and killing goblins for gold isn’t getting us anywhere, I don’t know, maybe… maybe we could try doing some good this time?”

“Have you ever thought maybe we’re not really meant to do this?”

“Honestly, why are we even together?”

“This is our purpose. Fighting for justice, for glory, protecting the kingdom and stuff. And most importantly… Lots of money!”

“Yeah, yeah, nobility and heroism is fine and all, but we’re in this for the money.”

“I suggest we run. Right now!”

“Fuck that! We fight!”

“Uh, I mean I’m not gonna lie, I’m terrified out of my mind. But I’m in.”

“I wouldn’t say “kill,” really. We’re still kind of working on that part.”

“Please, with the way that man dotes on you, I’m sure you can work something out.”

“You have entered a realm of mystery, of magic, of marvel.”

“If we survive this… I owe you dinner.”

“Really? ‘Cause they told me you have “dick for brains,” which doesn’t seem possible.”

“You’ve been lucky so far, but you have no idea what you have gotten yourself into.”

“Those are pretty. But also… ominous.”

“I must say, I’m impressed. To tell you the truth, I was certain you would die… But it seems some vermin are harder to kill than others.”

“I would like to… rage!”

“Huh. You know, you’re a lot smarter than we give you credit for.”

“Oh, how I’ve missed respectability.”

“I never agreed to this stupid game.”

“I’m simply suggesting you could all benefit from some well-practiced restraint.”

“I say you just walk over, say hello to break the ice, then punch them in the face.”

“You got a sword. Oh, that’s cute.”

“No! I had them! And you let them slip away.”

“You fool… Now your soul is forfeit.”

“I know we have a lot to talk about, but I’m not turning into a vampire, am I?”

“I wasn’t aware that you were owed information about my past.”

“When your past comes to kill us, I’d say we deserve a heads-up.”

“Hey, I don’t take orders from you, asshole.”

“Oh. Well, do you think they’re mad at you? I mean, maybe… maybe you should just say sorry.”

“I don’t get to go home until I prove myself worthy. Which might not happen, so…”

“I’m just saying, I know you think you’re alone. That we don’t know what you’re going through. But you don’t have to be.”

“But there’s a world of difference between your struggle and mine. Whether you succeed or fail, your family is still alive.”

“Everybody up! Creepy shit incoming!”

“You intend to stop those that did this? Then go. Give them hell.”

“Oh, but… what if I need you?”

“You can always talk to me. Even if I’m not around, you’ll feel me there with you.”

“Ugh. I don’t want to know. No, that’s a lie. I absolutely want to know. What’s this all about?”

“We kind of pissed off a vampire.”

“Oh, is that what you’re doing? I thought you were practicing your resting bitch face.”

“And for the record, I have a magnificent bitch face.”

“Oh. Thank God. 'Cause what I was picturing was, like… whoa.”

“Yeah, no worries. You’ll probably get your shit together eventually.”

“But I know you. I know you care about others. That’s what makes a great leader.”

“Oh, no, no, no. Oh, no, no, no, no. Shh! Shh! Shh, quiet. Quiet. Go to sleep.”

“Violence doesn’t burn away the clouds. It only makes more smoke.”

“It’s you. Oh, but you’re not the same. ____, what have you become?”

“I am what they made me.”

“I do hope you and I can engage in a stimulating conversation. Because you’ll find the alternative to be most disagreeable.”

“You think too much. All we got to do is… kill everyone and leave.”

“Those were bad ideas and you should feel bad.”

“Some folks you kill 'cause you’re ordered to. Them I killed 'cause I wanted to.”

“Let me say, you were the one I was least looking forward to.”

“I will have my vengeance and no one will stand in my way!”

[an-idiot-in-fandoms]

Dead! / Chapter 2: You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison

Chapter Summary: Some people just never find peace. You’re one of those.

“No, I told you,” you argued, phone pressed to your ear, as you typed frantically at the computer sat in front of you, “I’m not requesting extra money from the council because I want it, it’s because we need it. Have you ever worked in an orphanage before?”

Your best friend and coworker, Avneet, paused to watch you have a furious conversation with the Gotham committee treasurer’s secretary, as she put away a multitude of books that had just been worn down by the kids. She noticed how a few drops of nervous sweat dribbled down your forehead, splattering onto your desk, which made you even more tense. She wrinkled her nose at you, and lifted a warning finger, just as you were about to swear — you reluctantly held back on the cuss, and she returned to her duties, putting away the various stories for the next reading session. She rubbed her forehead, and let out a mild yawn as she kneeled down to stock up the lower shelves, wondering what to give the children for lunch.

Her thoughts were cut off from business as usual, when she heard you let out a defiant, “Fuck you! And your eyebrows!” before you hung up, and slammed your device on the table with an aggravated grunt.

Her frown deepened at your use of language, and she was quick to ask you dryly, “I’m guessing they didn’t raise our budget?”

“No,” you replied shortly, tapping your finger against your arm, letting out a long huff as you calmed yourself down. “I told you, it’s not worth it. The bitch puts me on hold, and then when he picks up, he wastes my time with six new reasons why they’re all immoral fucks.”

“Oh well. It was worth a shot,” Avneet assured you, as she got up, dusting down her trousers. “Thanks for trying anyway, even though you probably got us blocked with that last part.”

“Have you seen his eyebrows?” you defended, waving your hand around in a wild, unspecified gesture, “They look like giant, obese caterpillars!”

“Yes, but did you have to point it out?” she questioned with an exasperated smile.

You blinked, and then folded your arms over your chest in a silent motion of annoyance. Avneet couldn’t hold back a laugh at your face, and gave you a small, pitying pat on the shoulder as she passed, going back into the main hall; as the doors momentarily opened and closed, you heard the rambunctious screeching and giggling of the children inside, who were clearly entertaining themselves well with what you’d given them. For a second, you considered going inside, before simply standing up, and wandering over to the office window, letting your hand lilt over the chequebook, the spare laptop, and the meal planner.

Pressing your head against the glass, you stared out blankly at the street, darkened by the familiar clouds of Gotham above — you’d grown accustomed to the dreary weather by this point — there were a few cars on the road ahead, and across from you stood a block of poorly maintained council houses. You sighed miserably, a tense scowl occupying your otherwise neutral expression, and you could recall how Mrs Truham would’ve given you a reprimanding lecture on how a pretty face would make pretty acquaintances.

You had not only ignored her advice because you point blank detested the woman, but also because you’d thought with impunity that you didn’t need acquaintances; you’d mumbled, under your breath, after she’d returned to applying her blush, that friends were for preps, and then had snatched her mascara off the table to experiment with later. She’d grounded you after she’d found out, bursting into your room the moment you’d arrived home from school, screaming at you that it wasn’t ‘proper’, for somebody like you to wear makeup.

Fuckin’ stupid.

(You couldn’t be sure if you were referring to the idea she’d had of you, Mrs Truham, or yourself. In any case, the words played well with whatever scenario.)

A motorbike zoomed down the road, at a speed that you were certain isn’t legal, and you peeked over slightly to catch a better glimpse of the driver; you didn’t, they were long gone (like your parents—). You let out an unimpressed snort, though inwardly, you heard your fifteen year old self cry out with spittling slobber that it might’ve been Gerard Way on his way to film a music video. Oh, to be the young and carefree soul you’d once been — that was a wish that could never be fulfilled, and arguably, it’s what got you in this scrappy, scarring situation in the first place.

But you didn’t regret being a punk. Not one bit.

You’d rather you had that courage now; god knew that you needed it. Sure, you could tell people to fuck off, but it was more of out of fatigue and utter misery rather than rebellious spirit.

“You gonna help me out with the snacks?” Avneet called out to you, from the doorway to the main hall.

You shifted in your position, and looked over your shoulder at her — her long black, beautiful hair was certainly something to behold, and her glasses framed her face perfectly, matching her dark skin tone. Her Indian accent was slightly prevalent, (perhaps she’d been on the phone to her mother a minute ago), and she was holding a shaken cardboard box, marked bluntly as ‘food’; it was probably time to feed the little buggers, they got ancy without their dose of glucose.

With a small nod, you moved over, took the item from her grasp, and pushed the door open with your back, flexing slightly as you did. Avneet let out a small, “Wow,” with a playfully flirtatious smirk, “anything else you can do with those arms?”

“Snap your neck,” you supplied, though the remark was accompanied by a parched grin that crumbled like an old biscuit when you cracked it.

“That’s not funny,” she retorted, despite her amusement, “you’re built like a tank. Honestly, I don’t understand why you don’t join the Bat-gang.”

“Too tired.” T’was but half a joke.

A singular call from Avneet, after giving you a nudge, brought in thirty-or-so hungry minors, who were clambering over each other, half ripping their second hand clothes to shreds in their efforts to get the refreshments first. You snorted in a deadpan manner, recalling how you’d spent seven hours trekking from obscure store to obscure shop to find these little terrors something appropriate to wear aside from their shoddy street attire. But they’d been all each a very cheap price, so it wasn’t the biggest scandal of the century that they were getting messed up, and besides, kids liked to destroy things.

You knew you certainly had loved to ruin everything. Mr Truham had taken you into his office once, and once only, because as soon as you’d been alone, you’d thrown the printer to the floor, ripped the noticeboard off the wall and beat it like a drumstick against his computer; they hadn’t actually realised what was going on until they heard the desk being tipped over, and even then, you’d shoved it against the entrance so they couldn’t get inside. Then, you’d screamed loudly whilst overturning all the furniture, and ripping leaflets into snowflakes.

You’d screamed, and screamed, and screamed. You’d screamed that you wanted to go home, and that this was a dirty country full of liars and frauds.

When they’d got in, they’d found you half-crying, half-laughing on the ground. It didn’t stop you from getting a great big slap to the face when you arrived back at the house.

Oh well.

The sticky hands of the children ripped bags of snacks from the box, leaving it empty and mutilated; there was a brief chorus of ‘thank yous’, before they all hurried off to sit on the yellow benches, chattering about whatever internet meme had captured their little imaginations. Avneet smiled fondly at the lot of them, and you felt the smallest amount of comfort at their and her happiness.

She addressed you casually, “Could you take that out to the recycling? Oh, and we might need some extra food for tonight, could you get some instant food from the corner shop?”

“Uh huh,” you nodded absentmindedly, spinning on your heel, and wandering down the corridor, to the main entrance of the building.

Stepping out into the light, you squinted against the dull light of the clouds, and moved towards the bins at the edge of the pavement, before chucking the box unceremoniously into the green wheelie, before starting your trek towards the small convenience store at the end of the street. The lane was silent, mostly, apart from the occasional yowl of a catfight, or perhaps the cry of an unfed infant; the road was chipped and soggy with humidity and agony. Your hoodie felt oddly heavy against you, and you had to shake off the thought that somebody was watching you — though to be fair, this damned city always had something around every corner.

But you could dwell on the shortcomings of this hellhole another time. After a turn of a corner, you made your way down the sloped path, towards the lit up neon sign, run by a rather jovial woman by the name of Nicole; you remembered her vividly, because the night you ended up alone, you came here, and she gave you a bag of crisps for free.

Ah, such fond memories.

You were about to go inside, your thrifted shoes hitting the cement like the drums of Black Sabbath, when you felt a sudden sense of paranoia.

Slowly, you glanced over your shoulder, only to find nothing and looked forwards again — except that it seemed the shop was wavering. “That’s fuckin’ weird,” you murmured, starting to move to get a closer glimpse; but your system let out an inaudible shriek of protest, stopping you in your tracks, like you’d been shocked with a thousand volts.

The air around you became thick, and you coughed slightly. Must be the pollution… you put it down to. Gotta get inside, in that case—

As soon as you moved your foot, your knees buckled, with a pathetic crumple, and you felt your head spin in confusion, as you hit the ground with a resounding thump. At the mercy of gravity, your torso hit the melting tarmac, and fuck!— it hurt, it felt like a ruthless animal had torn open your lungs, and had bitten right into your spine! A shuddered gasp escaped you as your chest closed in and crunched, like the smashing of an old car.

You couldn’t even cry out; all you could fathom were colours, idiosyncratic patterns performing synchronised swimming in your vision, a pandering production to entertain your corpse. As your consciousness faded, and your breathing became weak, it left you nothing but pathetic.

Oh, god, you’re kidding me, your thoughts tried one last time to motivate you, I haven’t even handed in my fucking resignation for life yet. I wasn’t planning to do that yet — I wasn’t planning to go yet.

I wasn’t planning to meet Jason Todd yet. But maybe it’s about time I should.

If I end up in the same place as him.

Your body slumped, and nobody but Gotham City watched you corrode, alone.

Previous chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/an-idiot-in-fandoms/692241669722177536?source=share

Next Chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/an-idiot-in-fandoms/694130289558110208?source=share

[bukojuiice]

the way of the househusband — levi ackerman

ೃ pairing: (husband! levi ackerman x  ceo wifey! reader)

ೃ  There is the “ideal” nuclear family. The one composed of a working husband with a well-paying 9 to 5 job, loving housewife who cooks and cleans, and adoring children who do well in school. However, that idealization is looong gone. What about you and your family? You are the CEO of a Tech Start-up Company who ain’t no trophy wife, Your husband hails from the last line of Ackermans and who temporarily resigns from being a vice executive of your company (just because he doesn’t want to work with young, feeling philanthropist, and genius GenZers) to become a hands-on househusband, and then there’s your little daughter who has the most inquisitive mind and adventurous heart who idolizes her doting father in every shape, way, and form. A month’s absence in your home (due to a business trip) could lead to many many things. But, your husband randomly publishing a self-help book on parenting and being a househusband is not one of those things. 

ೃ genre and warnings: modern au, domestic fluff, baby au, husband au, 

ೃ  my nav  →  my aot masterlist

ೃ 4k words

ೃ Will be referring to hanji as “aunkling” (a cute nickname that some kiddos use to refer to their non-binary relatives <3) because there are no official non-binary terms for aunt and uncle! + your daughter with levi is named amelia and she is just the most precious cinnamon roll

It’s done. 

The Business Trip is finally over.

A long and painful month of no hugs and playdates with your little princess, Amelia and no time to be pampered with love and affection from your husband, Levi was finally over!

Sometimes, you wonder how you were even able to survive these long-ass trips and conferences. Sure, these month-long trips only happened once a year, but the thought of Amelia getting older and having to miss a day of seeing her grow up and discover the world, really hurt you as all mothers would. Video Calls were enough to satisfy you and give you happy hormones even for just a short while, but still- the longer you’re not with them, the more the yearning lengthens until you’re just riddled with endless thoughts of wanting to get home as soon as possible.

First, let’s set things straight: You are the CEO of a Tech Start-up company who was born into a middle-class family and rose her way up to success. It’s as cliche as it gets but hey! Living a life as if you were in a romantic comedy was the best compliment you’ve ever gotten. 

Along with that, as far as rich families in rom-coms and coming of age movies go, are they all dysfunctional in reality? Not really. Or at least you and Levi promised each other not to end up like that. The Rich Girl meets Poor Boy (with a tragic backstory) cliche however? Yea, that’s a pretty accurate way to describe your love story. Meeting the love of your life in a Coffee Shop is actually pretty common and happens to a lot of people apparently. When Erwin Smith, Levi’s best friend (who is too smart and self-aware to fit the role of a rom-com sidekick by the way) approaches your table to ask if he and Levi could sit with you. (Because of all the days the cafe would be packed, it would be that day.) You said yes of course, and Erwin began oversharing details about the raven-haired man and you were all too invested in learning more about him anyway. Levi grew up in the orphanage after his mother had died and his father was the biggest asshole on the planet for never showing his face, he had to fend for himself after he outgrew the foster system. Starting out as an espionage in an illegal underground gambling empire to a bookkeeper at the Smiths’ bookshop. (Although this is a story for another day)  

Internally swooning over his pretty eyes and resting bitch face...it didn’t take long until the two of you fell in love and... the rest was history!

You come home to your lavish yet homey apartment in 21 West End Avenue Manhattan to be surprised by your father-daughter duo absolutely knocked out on the couch. Amelia was snuggled up to her father, her feet on his lap and a sleeping position you could not possibly comprehend, a Disney movie playing in the background, and both of them were wearing matching Minion onesies whilst yours was folded neatly on the coffee table just waiting to be worn by you when you got home. 

It was a rare sight to see and you can’t help but just stare lovingly at the wonderful scene before you. Not only was it rare to see Amelia asleep before seeing you (or in the case of your business trips, during your daily video calls with them) but it was also rare to see your husband sleeping so soundly and his insomnia not kicking in. 

Amelia hears your footsteps, her eyes are still shut as she tries to predict what you will do next. She finally assesses when she will make her move and surprise you when you place another fleece blanket on top of them and plant a kiss on both of their temples. your daughter’s eyes suddenly flutter open. Her eyes beaming and glowing off the same light that twinkled in her father’s as she jumps off the couch, making sure not to wake up Levi.

“MOMMY!” She screams in the most quiet volume her cute voice could muster. She runs up to you and envelops you in a tight hug, jumping up and down as she does so. “I missed you Mommy! I missed you soooo much! How was sandbox in K-korea!? Was there a lot of sand!? Did you have a lot of pwaymates there!?”

You giggle at your daughter’s enthusiasm, combing your fingers through her hair. “Lili, Sandbox is like the Silicon Valley of Korea. It isn’t necessarily a sandbox like in a playground, baby.”

“OOOH! JUST LIKE SIWICON VAWWEY!” She chirps, tightening her hug and reaching for your hand and squeezing it. “AH WAIT!” She gently pushes you away and makes a beeline to her room. “ME AND DADDY HAVE A SURPRISE FOR YOU! BUT CLOSE YOUR EYES FIRST OWKAAY?!” She calls out from her room and you shout back a “yes!” to her in between your giggles, unable to contain the sudden rush of serotonin your daughter had given you from her simple yet adorable antics.

Another trope that you can debunk is that rich moms can be a hands-on parent too! After your maternity leave ended and when Amelia had finally reached her toddler years, you absolutely made sure that you were going to take care of her every second, minute, hour and day of your life. As soon as she turned two, she became the inquisitive, smart and ever so curious little girl you and Levi had always hoped for. She had your (h/c) hair and Levi’s icy yet warm and loving milky grey eyes. If the color of Levi’s reminded you of dark and stormy clouds, Amelia’s was gleaming. Like that of the clouds after a terrible storm. She was an absolute blessing and although you weren’t a perfect mother, (spoiling her more than you should) Levi was an amazing father. Growing up without parents was tough for him and he was going to make sure that Amelia is going to have an amazing childhood and be surrounded by the love of two parents that he never had and never got to experience. 

You always and will forever have trust in Levi. There has never been a day where you doubted him. Despite the impressions and assumptions that people have of him. How he was cold, scary, and even calculating. But, you are always quick to shut down those rumors. They don’t know the Levi Ackerman behind the cold and mighty front he shows. He is a man who has gone through so much and yet has so much love and care to give. How he notices and remembers the littlest details, how he never takes anything for granted and how he loves and cherishes everything so wholeheartedly.

When Amelia turned six, you sadly had to go back to work formally. Right timing too because your genius (with very himbo tendencies) younger cousin, Eren, was about to be part of your start-up company and he had a lot of amazing plans that had to come into fruition. Even bringing in a group of his own friends (who all graduated in MIT by the way!) who are willing to contribute so many amazing ideas and hackathons that were just waiting to happen.

The entrance of these youthful and hopeful genius entrepreneurs also brought about the temporary exit of your very own husband from your very own company. Apparently, working with newly graduated Gen Zers (as a millennial) was too much for him. They were nice and they were going to be a very integral part of the company. But, the boomer inside Levi can’t just can’t keep up with this sudden surge of energy and youthfulness within the higher-ups. It was also a great opportunity for him to take care of Amelia even more. So, you didn’t stop him from doing so! 

It’s been a year since he temporarily resigned and became an official-unofficial househusband. Or as your best friend Hanji likes to put it, You are the Girl Boss and he is the Male Wife. Amelia is now 7 years old and she’s currently taking Ballet classes (Levi picks her up during the weekdays, and the both of you pick her up on the weekends) and has developed a hyperfixation over Sanrio Characters and the Disney movie, Frozen. She was growing up to be a wonderful girl and you just can’t wait to hear what she and Levi had done during your absence.

She skips her way back to you, a book tightly clutched in her hands. “SURPRISE!” Amelia gingerly places a book on your hand. You open your eyes and tilt your head in question at the piece of literature she had just given you as you read the title aloud.  “The Way of the House Husband… written by Levi Ackerman.” Your eyes shift to a little circle on the lower side of the cover,  “The husband of (Y/N) Ackerman, the CEO of Survey Corp Tech…!?” 

“Daddy and I made a book while you were away!” She claps her hands together and grabs the book back from you, turning it to the first page. “See there’s even a dedication! To (Y/N) and Amelia! The two brightest stars in my galaxy!”

“Oh that’s too cheesy. No way would your dad write something like this out of the blue, Lili.” You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. Your daughter looks at you with downcast eyes while you were still trying to process that your husband literally just wrote a whole-ass book while you were away. “Who helped publish this so quickly, Amelia?”

“Uncle Erwin of course!” She’s frowning for one second and now she’s beaming at you again. “Please please read it mommy! Me and daddy worked really really hard on it!” She taps the hardbound cover of the book in rhythms. “This is the Amelia Edition! Daddy said he cut out some stuff so that it would be okay for me to read and for me to give to you once you get home! It’s my come back home gift for you mommy!” She moves the book to your lap and hops up next to you on the loveseat that you were sitting on. Before you know it, Amelia is resting her head on your shoulder and coaxing you to start reading to her like it was a bedtime story. 

You clear your throat and hold her by the waist so that she can feel more secure in her seat. “Okay… okay… let’s begin shall we? In a kingdom far far away…”

“That’s not how the book is like mommy! Read it properly like the way daddy did!”

“I was just joking, honey. Let’s get started. Rule #1 of the House Husband is…”

Rule #1: Fathers, be good to your children. You are the weight of their world.

“One thing I learned as soon as I was at home practically 24/7 is that your child will be more cautious and weary of you. They will observe you because they look up to you. They will watch your every move, follow you around, and will imitate whatever you say and whatever they hear from you. Talk to them, teach them things they need to know, support them in their hobbies, interests, and even if you have to be the extra princess in her tea party, do it.  The thing is, you will leave an eternal mark on the hearts of your children.”

Amelia got even more closer to Levi when he was finally stationed at home. Always grinning from ear to ear and boasting to her classmates how cool her dad was whenever he would pick her up from school. She was proud to tell them Levi’s heritage even if Amelia never got to meet her Grandma Ackerman and Grandpa Ackerman. When Levi would take her out for errands, may they be groceries, cleaning the house, baking, cooking, laundry, or just going on his morning jog, Amelia would be there to accompany him. In fact, she’s gone shopping with Levi so many times that she has memorized the brand names of cleaning detergent and bleach before she could even memorize the multiplication table.

 She’s even caught up with her father’s cynical sense of humor. And because of that, Levi had to tone down on his sardonic jokes around the little girl. Levi wasn’t necessarily physically affectionate but he does soften around Amelia as the little girl never fails to supply him with endless hugs and kisses on the cheek. She may be both a Mommy’s and Daddy’s girl, but the way she looks up to Levi is the kind of father-daughter bond that you hardly see in real life. She aspires to be like him. Even if there were times where she would be scolded by you both, (most especially Levi) she never took that against you.  She sees all the good and positive sides of your husband that others outside of your circle fail to see.

Rule #2: Let your children know that they have other “guardian angels” who they can rely on aside from their parents.

“My daughter has both my wife and I’s best friends to learn from or to look up to. Her kooky aunkling and her blunt uncle have become one of the most precious people in her life. Even the young ins working at Survey Corp Tech have become older siblings to her and get along with her so well. Remember that there will always be close relatives or friends who can and will help them when they lose their way. Let them spread sunshine and love to others.”

Whether it’s a regular trip to Coney Island or your monthly trips to Disneyland, Hanji or Erwin would totally tag along. Amelia absolutely loves and vibes with Hanji’s quirkiness so well. They would wear matching Mickey Mouse ears, ride the kiddie roller coaster that Amelia wanted to ride on a million times per visit, buy her all the ice cream and treats she wants (despite Levi’s warnings and the reprimanding that Hanji has to suffer from the both of you right after.) They just want Amelia to experience all the fun, the joy, and innocence of living in the moment. As a kid, it’s better if she sees how precious life is, how she should cherish it and that she doesn’t have to grow up so fast just yet. 

Erwin on the other hand, brought out Amelia’s intellectual side more. As soon as a new and critically acclaimed children’s book hit the shelves, you bet Amelia has a copy right away. Whenever Levi would take her to Erwin’s bookstore, she wanders around like it’s this huge mysterious archive that can only be accessed by her. The Adults section is forbidden, so were the cheap romance novels in the back, and the books written by youtubers. God forbid she read those. When her Uncle Erwin got her into reading Roald Dahl’s children’s books, you had to watch Amelia run around the penthouse with a little red ribbon tied on top of her hair, wanting to be referred to as Matilda, along with you and Levi having to pretend that she had telekinetic powers for 6 months straight. It was her cutest phase yet and you just know there were many more to come. 

There were also Eren and his friends who loved Amelia dearly whenever she came over to visit. Your little cousin refused to be called Uncle Eren and instead wanted to be called big bro, and in which Amelia happily complied. Whenever it was Amelia’s weekly “Visit Mommy at Work” day, she had her own room in your office where Eren and your other young associates would babysit her. In fact, they would actually take turns in babysitting at your condo whenever you and Levi went out for date night. Amelia was introduced to playing video games like Animal Crossing and Pokemon solely because of them (more specifically because of big bro Jean, big sis Sasha, and big bro connie.) They even ended up influencing her to watch anime when her big brother “Minmin” and big sis “Mimi” accidentally left the TV on and Amelia literally binge-watched half of the existing Studio Ghibli movies to this date. 

Rule #3: Your children will think that you are Superman or Iron Man. Make sure to act like them and never let them down by ruining their innocence and imagination.”

(A little note was attached to this page: Please don’t let Amelia read this. Read her a fairy tale instead while skimming through this.)

“It all started when my daughter found an entire encyclopedia on ancient and legendary family clans around the world. The Ackerman clan was on the very first page after the intro and she read through all 50 pages of it. The look of awe on her face when she read that her dad’s ancestors exhibit physical abilities much higher than the average human. In a 7 year old’s mind and vocabulary, that automatically translates to a superhero akin to that of Superman. 

Ever since then, My daughter has forced me to become more creative with doing very mundane tasks and chores. I pretend to have superpowers. Such as teleporting around the house whilst cleaning. I tell her to close her eyes or else my teleportation powers won’t work. Then when I cook in the kitchen and she watches me intently, I tell her that the salt and pepper have magical properties that only I can touch and hold because to her, at that moment, I was “Doctor Stwange.”

and one time, when I picked her up from school, she was babbling on about how she told her friends and playmates that she had two superhero parents she was very proud of. Then one of the other kids asked if I was a strong soldier who killed huge humanoid monsters using sharp blades. To which I replied that could have possibly happened in a different universe. Her hearty laughs and giggles whenever she sees me using my superpowers makes me anxious over the fact I have to tell her someday that my powers never existed.”

Whilst you were on your monthly trip, you and Levi would have private video calls whenever Amelia was finally put to bed. There, he told you about what happened in Amelia’s ballet classes that week and how the single mothers were more persistent than usual.

They could clearly see that Levi was not interested but apparently the fact that your husband waving his ring finger every single time someone approached him wasn’t obvious enough, apparently the fact that he was married made the risk even more worth it to these prying moms who had nothing better to do. It wasn’t until Amelia had enough and respectfully called them out by saying that his dad was married and he was never going to be interested in Karens (a slang word that she learned from Eren and friends) Since then, the invasion of parent to parent boundaries had finally stopped. Levi was very relieved and at ease whilst telling you the story yet you were laughing your heart out at the ingenious remarks of your very own daughter on top of the irresistible charm and looks of your own husband that made single mothers be damned. 

Rule #4: The most important rule of all: Love your spouse as you want your children to be loved in the future.

“Since my wife is on a business trip right now as I type this and she may or may not know that I had written this book for her to read when she comes home, my daughter came up to me a few days ago and told me how she missed her mom so much. The video calls we had every night were not enough to satisfy her for the remaining days her mother would be gone. She then proceeds to tell me that she loves the way I love (Y/N). My daughter loved how patient I was and how I supported her through every endeavor that her mother had ever thought up with that brilliant mind of hers. She mentioned how I was there for her through every success and failure, through hardships, difficulties and misunderstandings. My daughter was happy because I stuck with her mother through everything. All the pain, suffering, conflicts that we both experienced individually and as husband and wife. Little ears and little eyes are watching and observing the actions and sweet gestures of their parents. Make sure to remember that.”

“What is gravy (grief) if not love persevewing?” (persevering) My daughter had even recounted a quote from the Disney Marvel show, WandaVision just to prove a point to me. That was when I realized something and decided to list down a few things: 

1. The best lovers are the best of friends.

Levi’s relationship with you was rocky at first simply because the two of you didn’t have a lot in common. Your personalities clashed and the two of you could barely make things work in the beginning. He was always well-dressed, on time, and was very prim and proper. However, Levi was cold, strict, and unapproachable. You on the other-hand were quite the opposite. You used to arrive late, didn’t care too much about your style as long as you wore the appropriate outfit, but you were carefree, laidback and friendly. Having to set aside your differences was a process that required sacrifice, time, and effort. It took long and a lot of petty arguments before the two of you fully understood each other, accepted each other's faults and quirks, and became even closer. Both as friends and lovers. You and Levi treat each other not as just the “person I love and I’m married to for the rest of my life”, but also as a best friend for life. Soulmates

2. Their dreams are just as important as yours.

Levi’s dream was to open up a tea shop and start a family with you. That was all he ever wanted. The blissful simplicity of his in comparison to your techy and out of this world ambitions, goes to show how much they weigh as aspirations and wants in life. You have to value your significant other’s dreams and ambitions just as much as you highly value yours. No matter how hard or how simple they are, the both of you can achieve it with the help of each other. The only thing left in your agenda was to open up his long-awaited Tea Shop. You were about to surprise him with the plans of opening one up on the day of his birthday, and you just can’t wait for that day to finally come.

3. You have to let them be free.

Levi absolutely knew what he was getting into when he met you. It was love at first sight when he met you, He drunkenly admitted that one time when he’s had too much champagne on your friday date night. He knew that you were an adventurer. A wandering soul who had a goal and a purpose set in stone. He always knew you were going to reach greater heights and he knew that you would never leave him behind and would always have him go on a ride. He’s always known about your capabilities and your potential and he didn’t want you to stray away from that. And, if the time were to come that you had to leave him behind to soar greater heights, he’d understand that. He’d always let you be free and make sure you don’t fly too close to the sun. That was just how selfless Levi is. The thing is, he knows you would do the same for him. It was a perfect balance. 

4. It is an honor to love and to be loved by them.

To be wrapped in the arms of someone who feels like home or has become the definition of home, To be stargazing with on a chilly summer night in where you talk about your future and your plans, To be sharing a cup of coffee or tea with in the morning and begrudgingly dancing with you against his will, To be watching your child playing in her room and do nothing but look adoringly at the most precious soul to have ever been produced by your encompassing love, and to be spending the rest of your life with someone who has done nothing but be with you through every pivotal moment in your life was such an honor. 

It is an honor to be loved by Levi, as he is honored to be loved by you. 

“...The end.” You close the book with a deep but contented sigh. Tears were welling up in your eyes and you’re trying your best not to break down in front of Amelia. 

“Mommy… are you crying?” She tilts her head in inquiry. “Is it because you’re tired from work?”

“No. baby. These are happy tears, Lili. Don’t worry.”

Before you could speak up once more, you notice Levi had slowly sprung up from the couch, and began to stretch his arms. His eyes widen when he sees you from the opposite couch. “(Y/N)... you were supposed to arrive at 6 AM right? Amelia and I were supposed to pick you-”

Amelia opens her mouth to speak as she jumps down from the couch and crawls up to sit next to Levi. “Daddy! I showed Mommy the book you wrote! She loved it! Right, Mommy?”

“You did?” Your husband perks up from his seat, clearing his throat. “T-that’s not the entire book yet by the way. We had to give back the original copies to Erwin for reprinting. The self-help book is currently rising up the charts to be a New York Times Best Seller.” 

Before Levi could properly react, you move to the free space on the couch next to him. Holding his hand and gazing into his forlorn yet loving eyes, you muttered. “Love, that’s amazing. I’m really really proud of you. Next time though, please do tell me that you’ve written a self-help book and dethroned all those mommy authors from the bestselling charts.” 

Levi stifles a laugh, stroking your thumb and bringing you and Amelia closer to him for warmth. “I will. I will.” 

Amelia looks up at the two of you, squeezing out of the sandwich, so that you and Levi can have your quality time with each other. “Goodnight Mom! Goodnight Dad!” She approaches the two of you so that she can be given her nightly kiss on the cheek as she retreats to her room. 

“What if I write a novel too?” You joke, snuggling up to Levi, your husband wrapping his arm around you. “The title could be… The way of the Wife boss?” 

“That could be a good sequel. A shared book universe. Then, Amelia could continue the collection when we’re old and sour as hell.” Levi mused.

“Pfft. I guess only time will tell. I love you Levi.”

“I love you too (Y/N).”

[illyaana]

credits to the artists who made the fanarts I used!

Dorm Life - Shoto Todoroki

Thanks to @missuga for this collab! Sorry I gave to you late TwT Do check out their collab over here!

Tags: Shoto Todoroki x Reader, Binaural, Fluff, Cursing, Minor Angst, Kissing (escandalo)

Synopsis: A compilation of drabbles of your life during the pandemic, quarantined in the UA dorms.

Word Count: 2734

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CLASSES

The Sun let its light brush against your skin, giving you a warm hug in the morning. You awoke to the pale blue skies that were painted so elegantly it made you stare. The cumulus clouds softly danced on its stage, etching a smile on your face. You looked around the room, checking for the clock to see what time it was currently.

10:00 a.m. - You were supposed to wake up at 8:00.

Worry rushed through you. The fear of you being late for class thrummed as you tried to get out of your bed.

Hint: tried.

You turned to your side and looked at the male beside you. His hands had found their way around your waist, pulling you in. His head was pressed against your shoulder. His twin-colored hair was disheveled thanks to him turning himself all through the night, His long eyelashes framed his closed lids, his lips slightly parted. Small snores came out in intervals as he snuggled into you, his vice grip around your body tightening even more.

You could help but trace his lips with your finger - it was so soft, you had to.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead, then laid your forehead against his.

“Get up, Sho - class starts in 10 minutes,” you said, rubbing his shoulder.

“I don’t want to, this is too comfortable,” he mumbled, rubbing his head on your shoulder.

“What are you, a cat?” You joked, placing your hands on his cheek, “Let me at least get my laptop on - I can tell Aizawa we’re sharing my laptop and we can just join the class here.”

“Getting the laptop means that you move - and you are not moving,” he said, tightening his grip on you.

“You know we’re going to be in trouble if we don’t join the class, right? Oh yeah, it starts in 5 minutes,” you said, slightly annoyed at him.

Shoto sighs in defeat, “Fine - but, hurry up,”

You pry his arms off of you and rush to your table to get the laptop on. Thankfully, you managed to join the class 3 minutes before it began.

“Aren’t you coming back in here?” Todoroki whined, patting the space beside him.

“Are you finally awake?” You question him.

“Kind of?”

“ ‘Kind of?’ “

“Yes, I am awake - I no longer need to sleep,” he groans.

You take your laptop and place it in the space between the two of you as you sit back on the bed. You pressed another kiss on his forehead, making him smile.

“Good morning, snowflake,” he says as he returns your kiss with one on your forehead.

“Good morning, Sho.”

“Now that you both have shown a great deal of affection, Y/N and Shoto,” Eraserhead says from your Zoom call, “Can my class finally begin?”

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LUNCH BREAK

“I got the money from Aizawa for our meals! Can you all go through the menu and tell me what you want on the class group chat?” Momo shouted from the living room.

“Imagine eating great food for free?” Uraraka smiled, enjoying how our meals were paid for by the school itself, “The pandemic is amazing yet so annoying at the same time.”

You chuckle at the brown-haired girl, seeing her awe-filled expression.

“What are you getting?” You ask her.

“Hmm… maybe Udon? It’s been a long time since I ate it, and since it’s not coming from my pocket…” she eyed the menu, “I’m getting the most expensive one.”

“You know he gave a set amount for the whole class right?” You look at her mischievous expression.

“I’m pretty sure we can stay within the budget. Our class generally doesn’t spend much money on food, right?”

You looked across the room to see Kaminari and Kirishima going through the menu.

“You think those two will be reasonable with their spending? Knowing them, they’re most probably buying the whole menu plus snacks,” you say, looking at their joy-filled grins.

You saw Shoto walk beside Iida, heading towards the two males. Intrigued, you and Uraraka walked towards the group of four.

“Hey,” you say as you hug Shoto from the back, “Everything okay?”

“These two,” Iida said, anger laced in his words, “Ordered everything on the menu.”

You held back your laughter, unlike Uraraka.

“Your skills in predicting the future astound me, Y/N L/N,” she says, covering her mouth.

“Hush,” you say, smiling.

“The two of you…” Iida began, looking at the two wrongdoers, “I don’t know how your closer friends handle you two.”

You look at the scene unfolding in front of you, smiling.

Iida was full-on lecturing the two males, his hands moving in all ten directions. Kaminari and Kirishima just stood there, dumbfounded. You could see the two of them slowly spacing out from the ‘conversation’, but Iida kept going on.

“Hey,” Shoto whispered, “Wanna have a mini-date tonight? I’ll order a few things and get them sent here, and we can watch a movie together?”

“Don’t use the money Aizawa gave though - we don’t need a third victim of Iida’s lectures,” you whisper, earning a smile from the stoic male.

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MINI-DATES

You opened the door to Shoto’s room, comfortably dressed in your Axolotl onesie. In your hands, you brought a hard drive filled with movies that you felt that you both would enjoy. Seeing that Shoto wasn’t in the room, you laid on his bed, waiting for the arrival of the owner of the room. Your eyes went straight to his mirror. He had slid multiple polaroid pictures of you and your friends in the corners of the mirror. Each one of the photos had a small remark, reminding you of all the memories you’ve made throughout your years in UA.

Your hands grazed on the photo he kept on the bedside table.

It was a picture of him and his mother smiling.

Your chest panged when you saw it. He had told you the story behind his scar and his life within the Todoroki household. His hatred for his father grew every day, yet he could never hate his mother - the very person who gave him the scar on his face.

“I love that picture, but not as much as I love this one,” Shoto said, pointing at a photo in the top-left corner of his mirror.

It was a picture of both of you visiting his mother with Fuyumi and Natsuo.

“I’ll admit Natsuo was not the most welcoming to the idea of me dating you, but he slowly loved you as a sibling. I did talk about you to Fuyumi a bunch of times, but she had her suspicions - that all changed when she met you, though. Mom…”

He hesitated, “...she didn’t like the idea of me dating anyone. Yet, you managed to make her like you so much, now she only asks about you whenever I call her,” he chuckled.

“My family loves you - except Endeavor, of course,” he groaned.

“He’ll come around, eventually. You, however,” you walk up to him and cup his face, “Need to talk to him properly - no filter, just say everything.”

You lie back down on the bed, patting the space beside you, “Hurry up - the snacks you bought are calling me.”

After multiple small banters, you both finally decided on Shrek and began to watch the movie.

After a while, you found yourself lying on Shoto’s chest, playing with his fingers as you focused on the movie. Shoto, however, stared at your cute expressions, taking mental notes of all the small things you did when a scene disgusted you, made you laugh or made you feel sad.

“Y/N,” he whispered in your ear once the movie ended, “Thanks for loving me.”

You turned to face the fire user, cupping his face in your hands. His fingers found their way in your hair, enjoying the feeling of your soft locks against his calloused skin. Your thumb began to move in circular motions, eager to feel his soft skin against yours. You stared into his dual-coloured eyes, enjoying the brown and icy blue flecks within each eye. He relaxed against your touch, warmth radiating from him to you.

“I love you so much, Sho - and I will no matter what happens later on.”

You shared a kiss under the glow of the pale moonlight, but all you cared about was how perfect the man you were kissing was.

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TRAINING

“Hey Sho,” you say, nudging the male beside you, “You wanna train after this?”

“I can’t,” he said, looking down, “I asked Midoriya to help me with some things. The only time he’s free is after this, so…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll ask Uraraka!” you say, kissing him on the cheek, “Good luck with whatever you’re doing with Mido.”

Soon, both you and Uraraka headed to Ground Beta to train your hand-to-hand combat.

“Luckily all of us are vaccinated, or the training grounds wouldn’t be open,” you say, thinking.

“Okay, okay - you wanted to work on hand-to-hand combat, right?” You nodded.

Both you and Uraraka got into your positions, mentally preparing yourselves. You were ready to move towards her until you heard sounds coming from the entrance.

“Well, well, well - isn’t that two students from Class 3-A?” Monoma snickered.

You groaned before turning to face him.

“Hello, Monoma? Where’s Kendo?” you ask, hoping that the ginger would come and stop him.

“Kendo’s eating right now - don’t want to disturb her. I don’t mind messing with the two of you, though.”

“What’s the difference, Monoma?” Uraraka added, “We usually keep quiet, but Y/N and I would like to train, so it would be greatly appreciated if you either kept quiet or left.”

“Why would you want to train with them, though?” He said, looking at Uraraka, “They’re the weakest bitch in your whole class, aren’t they?”

“The fuck, Monoma?!” you shouted, “That’s going a bit too far, don’t you think?”

“What? I’m just stating facts; you entered the class later than everyone else, you’re quirkless since you depend on your weapons, you need to train with others so that you can win 10% of the time - don’t the facts say it all?”

“Monoma, you might want to - ”

“Stop? Why should I?” he laughed, “It’s about time someone told you the truth; you’re useless, unneeded, a waste of space, and never going to be a hero - not even a sidekick.”

“So, the student who single-handedly served you your own ass in a fight doesn’t deserve to stay, but your weak fucking self can stay?” Shoto chuckled darkly, his hand slowly freezing Monoma’s shoulder, “That’s a lot of self-confidence for someone who hasn’t fought well for 3 years straight.”

“Next time you talk shit about Y/N, don’t expect to leave without losing any limbs,” he shouted, scaring Monoma.

“Shoto,” you begin, “Let me fight my own battles.”

He stares at you and sighs. His vice grip on Monoma loosens as you walk towards him.

You run your sword against his hands, small cuts forming.

“Talk shit about me again and you won’t be standing. Get the fuck out, dumbass.”

Monoma runs out of Ground Beta, making you chuckle.

“Damn, Y/N,” Uraraka says from afar.

“That’s my lover,” Shoto says, smiling.

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NIGHTMARES

You woke up to the sounds of Shoto whimpering in his sleep.

His clothes were soaked by his sweat, trails of tears strung down his face.

He was shaking - shivering.

Small screams of Natsuo, Fuyumi and Rei’s names escaped his lips along with soft sobs.

“Shoto!” You shouted, shaking him, “Wake up, it’s only a dream - they’re okay, they’re alive.”

You heard your name.

You heard his voice become louder, screaming your name in pain.

“I’m here, I’m fine,” you whisper in his ear.

“I’m right here, Shoto - I haven’t left you. I am here, hugging you. Wake up, okay?’

You heard his whimpers stop as he wrapped his arms around you. He nuzzled his face into your chest as you patted his head.

“Y/N…” you heard him mumble, “Y/N… you’re fine, right?”

“I’m fine, Sho. I’m here hugging you, aren’t I?”

He nodded, pressing his head against your chest.

“You want to talk about it?”

“No…” he trailed off.

“Okay, don’t worry,” you say, kissing him on his head.

“You want me to get you something? Milk, water…?” you ask him, slowly prying yourself off of him.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

“Ok then, koala - I’m not going anywhere,” you say, chuckling.

You hummed a song as you rubbed Shoto’s back, giving him warmth. You wiped the trail of tears and pressed kisses on his cheek.

If he needs you to be his haven, you’ll be an oasis from all the bad.

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CLASS FUN

“Ok, so - everyone is here, right?” Mina said as she stood in the middle of the living room.

You looked at everyone in the living room. Everyone was excited - after all, it’s been a long time since you all did something together as a class.

“I think everyone’s here, Mina,” Shouji said, passing you your drink.

Shoto placed his head on your shoulder, groaning.

“What’s wrong with you?” you ask, worried.

“I wanted to just sleep in today…” he said, sulking.

“Come on, it’s been a long time since we did something as a class - who knows? This might be our last little thing as a class,” you retort.

He hummed in agreement, “Fine.”

“Great! Let’s bring back an old classic, shall we? The game that made all the couples in this classroom, the game that made the impossible possible,” she looked at Bakugou and Izuku, “Spin the Bottle Truth or Dare!”

“This fucking game?” Bakugo cussed.

“Relax, Kacchan~,” Kaminari said, teasing the other blonde.

“Shut up, dunce face,” Bakugo said with anger.

“Keep quiet, you two. Mina’s getting angry,” Kirishima said, eyeing the pink-haired female.

“So what if-”

“Kacchan, shush,” Izuku said, glaring at his partner.

“Thank you, my green-haired savior,” Mina said, smiling at Izuku.

“Let me re-explain how the game works; Person A will spin the bottle in the middle of the circle until it stops on Person B. Person A will play truth or dare with Person B. Clear?” Mina said, smiling.

The game soon spiraled out of control, just like everyone expected.

Kaminari danced in a maid dress, Shinsou was forced to call Aizawa and Present Mic ‘dads’ in a call on speaker, Kirishima was forced to scream “I’m hard!” out loud, and Mina sang Baby Shark to her lover - something we never thought Kirishima would enjoy.

In the last round, the bottle landed on Shoto.

The person who spun the bottle was Sero.

You knew he had something planned - you could see it in his eyes.

“Shoto Todoroki, truth or dare?” He said, smirking.

You looked at him, begging him to not choose dare.

“Truth, I guess?” he said, looking at you.

Phew.

“What do you and Y/N do when you’re alone?”

Shit.

“Take dare, take the dare, take the dare…” you mumbled under your breath, hoping he’d listen.

“Can I take the dare?” Shoto said, questioning your actions.

Phew.

“Make out with Y/N right here.”

Shit.

“Give them some privacy, Sero!” Uraraka shouted on your behalf.

“He already evaded the truth question, I’m not modifying the dare,” Sero said, huffing.

“Y/N,” Shoto said, looking at you, “Is it okay?”

You sigh in frustration, “I put us in this situation, Sho. Let’s just get it over with.”

Shoto smiled, looking at your pissed expression.

“Look at me,” he whispered in your ear, raising small goosebumps on your skin.

His hands slowly went to your cheeks, eyeing the flecks in your eyes - how they sparkled just for him and him alone. His thumb reached your lips and parted it - enjoying how you were putty in his hands. His hand slowly went from your cheek to your chin, raising it to make your forehead meet his.

“Geez, Y/N,” he said, lust filling his eyes, “You’re so perfect.”

He softly pressed his lips against yours. He sucked on your lips, enjoying the strawberry lip balm you put just before you entered the living room. Your hands gripped on his dual-colored hair, fingers entangled.

The soft kiss soon turned desperate, needy.

In, out, in, out - the synchronization of your lips.

The need for breath soon came and your lips parted from his.

“Well, that was something,” you said, laughing.

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