#so ill just spend the whole time at home wishing i could be w my friends and family… 😔

[palms-upturned]

.

[where-dreamers-go]

"Emotions Ignite" Dick Grayson x Reader

(A/N: And we’re back to the 1960s Dick Grayson soulmate au. This is Part 3 after Part 1: Emotions Read and Part 2: Scattered Emotions. We get to see what else is happening in their lives when they want to keep things private. Also what happens when Reader is ready to tell their guardian the news.

Warnings: Angst. Reader has social anxiety. Dick Grayson is the sweetest person ever. Fluff. Use of (Y/N), (Y/L/N), (mx).

Word Count: 6,914 words)

~~~

A night in Gotham City could bring the unexpected. Some unwanted and some thought provoking.

Standing quietly, Dick Grayson’s cheeks grew warm.

On the other side of the door, he knew you were there feeling the same incredibly soft emotion that made him want to embrace you just one more time. Spend another moment in complete peace.

How could visiting you to share good news turn so tender and sweet?

Holy soulmates.

✧ ✧ ✧

A light rain sprinkled over Gotham City and its inhabitants. Pattering of rain struck the window as you sat in the study.

For once, you were home. No events or studying in sight. What a sweet relief.

It only took a whole week.

You had already visited the manor for a homework session and was immediately pulled into an hug by Mrs. Cooper. Most of your time spent there involved being cooed at by Mrs. Cooper and linking pinky fingers with Dick atop of the couch cushion. An extra sense of comfort. Surely it helped with the fluttering and zapping of emotions you had no right name for that zipped between you two.

Each time he had smiled, you tried not to think about the spontaneous kiss you gave him on the cheek. It was a sweet gesture. A ‘thank you’ of sorts. You only wished you had asked first. That or thought before you acted.

Continuing to listen to the rain, you enjoyed your solitude. Some amount of uninterrupted peace.

On the outside at least.

You had been avoiding the inevitable. Your guardian still didn’t know about the soulmate discovery. Hiding what was becoming a major part of your life was going to tire you out. Plus, you never knew if it could get you out of a social outing in the future. It was good to think ahead. Well, sometimes.

You sighed.

I really need to tell them. It’s been over a month. You thought. It might look obvious at some point. Maybe. Who knows.

Some where indoors your guardian went about their day.

There were no physical obstacles preventing you from speaking with them that day. Only yourself.

You took another breath.

Perhaps an amount of motivation was in order.

Tiptoeing your way over to the desk, you sat down and grabbed the telephone.

I’ve never used this so much in my life.

You rung up the Wayne Manor. A number you made sure to memorize.

Alfred answered the phone. Polite as always.

“Hi, Alfred. It’s (Y/N). How are you?”

“Hello, (mx) (Y/N). I am well today. Thank you. And yourself?”

“Honestly…a little nervous because I want to talk to my guardian about you-know-what.”

“Ah, yes.”

“So, I was hoping to hear any amount of encouragement if anyone was willing….because I’m really nervous.”

“Ah. If I may? You mustn’t hold back from sharing such wonderful news when there is nothing to suggest an ill outcome.” Alfred said softly. “No matter what happens, good or otherwise, please know that we are here for you.”

“No matter what happens?” You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“We will be here,” he repeated.

“Thank you, Alfred. Seriously.”

“You are most welcome.”

“Now I just have to say it when they’re not busy. Wish me luck?”

“I wish you all the luck in the world, (mx) (Y/N).”

“Thank you. I’ll call once I tell them. Don’t know when, but definitely today.”

“Then I shall await your call.”

“I hope you have a great day, Alfred.”

“And to you as well.”

“Bye.”

“Goodbye.”

 You hung up the phone and exhaled.

I can do this.

It was the day to be brave and proud. To share what made you happy. So incredibly joyful each morning when you remembered him. Your friend and soulmate.

If anything, pretend you’re ripping off a bandage. We’re doing this. Maybe we can have him over for a real visit.

✧ ✧ ✧

Later that evening, practically night, Dick Grayson sat alone in the Wayne Manor. A book in hand and his patience high.

He waited for your inevitable call.

Well, he waited as patient as he could manage given his need to know how everything went ever since Alfred told him what you were planning.

It was good then that he and Bruce had been out of the manor most of the afternoon. He wasn’t so sure what to make of your emotions. They were almost tangled together, unreadable. Layered by nerves.

Sitting in Bruce Waynes’s office gave enough quiet. Dick was reading a fiction novel you gave him. Something that kept most of his attention.

He would trust any book recommendations from you from that point on. At least give any a try.

Judging a book by its cover was something he was still working to do less of.

If I would had judged (Y/N) on first glance, I never would have guessed they were so fun to be around. Or so smart and kind! Dick thought as he held the novel over his knee. I wonder what it’ll be like going to an event with them. Like an exhibition opening or something. Hopefully more fun.

Once more, the story caught his attention. His mind creating images of daring landscapes. That was until Alfred’s voice and presence caused him to drop the book and speed out of the room.

Holding the phone to his ear, Dick practically shouted into the mouth piece. He could feel his excitement near yours.

“(Y/N)?”

“Hey, you. Guess what I finally did?”

“You drew a picture of Pluto?” He joked, much too giddy.

“What? No,” you laughed. “I told my guardian that you and I are soulmates.”

“What did they say?”

“It was positive, but quick story first.”

“Okay.”

This’ll be good. They’re relieved.

“So, obviously, I had to wait because they were doing paperwork and bills and an important phone call. Dinner too because what if they choked or something?”

“Right.”

“But I made sure we were both sitting down calmly with no distractions and I told them plain and simple: ‘Dick Grayson and I are soulmates’. And they squealed so loud, that I fell on the floor.”

“You fell?”

“Yeah. To be fair, they startled me. I didn’t expect that.”

He chuckled lightly.

“So I asked, ‘Is that good?’ Just to be sure and they were all: ‘I can’t believe it!’ Their voice was higher as they clapped. Actually clapping and said, ‘It happened!’ Meanwhile, mind you, I was still on the floor and covering my ears. They eventually noticed and continued to say random things.”

“But they’re happy,” Dick added in.

“Yes. Everything’s fine. And I asked them not to tell anyone. Obviously.”

“Good. I’m really happy you were able to tell them.”

“Me too. One less thing in the back of my mind.”

He heard movement on your end and figured you were in the study.

“But how have you been?” You asked, cheerful. “I couldn’t really tell what your emotions were.”

“I’ve been well. Nothing too exciting. Aunt Harriet was helping me practice to play the piano, I had plenty of homework this week, I lifted weights at school, and Aunt Harriet prepared shrimp the other day. It was delicious.”

“You lift weights?”

“I do. The coach is there to spot me.”

“Huh.” You paused for a moment. “Piano isn’t a surprise. But I pictured you as a runner. A climber maybe.”

“You did?”

“You’re always so busy. How else do you get everything done?”

Goodness, did he know you had a point. Dick was always doing something. It was rare for him to do otherwise.

“Do you run?” Dick asked.

“If the occasion calls for me to run. Yes,” you laughed lightly. “Or when the timer on the oven goes off.”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“I have to save the cookies.”

A chuckle rumbled out of him. He could imagine you scrambling around furniture to reach the kitchen. The image was only missing comedic sound effects.

“Burnt cookies are very…hard to miss.”

“Do you bake?” He questioned; interested in learning more about you. Any hobbies.

“If we have the ingredients.”

“True.” He nodded.

What kind of cookies have they made? The cookies must be great!

“Would you like to bake something one day? In the future, with me?”

Your question was unexpected to the youth. Yet it was nowhere near unwanted.

“It would be a learning experience, but I would have fun with you,” he said. “I’d love to.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Uh. I guess…it’s just a first reaction. I like making sure regardless. I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t lie like that.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

Dick scrunched up his face. He wondered who in the past had lied to you about how they felt or how they wanted to spend time with you. It made him a little crestfallen.

Who would do such a thing to you? To someone?

“I really like spending time with you,” Dick said in earnest.

“Me too—with you—spending time with you is my favorite part of the day. I mean, when we’re together. But the phone counts too.”

The speed of which you spoke sent Dick leaning against the wall. A soft smile on his lips. He could imagine your own smile and your eyes looking anywhere except at him.

“What was your second favorite part of your day?”

“The Pluto cartoon.” You answered without hesitation.

“Pluto? So he was involved with your day.”

“Yeah. He found another wild animal that wants to be his friend. It’s cute and I love the colors they use. It’s my little break from the world.”

“You deserve a break.”

“Thank you. Finally someone who sees that.”

Lowering his voice, Dick muttered, “I would know either way.” He took a breath. “I’ve felt it for years.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t apologize for emotions. Golly, (Y/N), being able to feel your emotions means you’re there.”

And I need that.

Both lines were quiet. Words hung in the air.

The youth was bold enough to formulate his feelings into words. Having you know even an ounce of how much you meant to him was unavoidable. An empowered choice.

Dick Grayson had heard you apologize numerous times for little things. Apologizing for feeling should not be one of them. It was a part of life.

“I apologize for a lot of stupid stuff.” You murmured.

“It’s not stupid,” Dick chided. “You care for a lot of things. That’s good.”

“Yeah.” Your response was timid, but receptive.

“I wish more people were like you.”

No response.

Without visuals to assist, the ward turned his attention inwards.

An emotion radiated from the chest to the very tips of toes, fingers, and everywhere between. Your springing happiness brought another smile to Dick’s face.

A relief and a delight for certain.

“What am I suppose to say to that?”

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

“Goodness.”

He made note of how you reacted to his openness. A part of him considered doing so more often, if only to sense your happiness.

From your end of the call, Dick could barely make out a voice.

“Okay. Hey, Dick, I gotta go.” You announced disappointedly.

“Alright. I hope you have a good day at school tomorrow.”

“You too. And hey, don’t strain yourself lifting weights.”

“I won’t. Don’t tire yourself out studying.”

“Nah. I think I’ll go to the library and lift books. I’m sure the librarian would love that.”

He shook his head, amazed again by your humor and spin of words.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight and sweet dreams,” you said.

Soft fireworks fizzed in his chest. A wide smile spread across his face as he replied, “Sweet dreams.”

Dick Grayson hung up the phone. The space around him was quiet for the night. The opposite of his mind.

With the smile still present, he sighed audibly. He wished he could talk to you every day.

In person, Dick thought, would be best.

✧ ✧ ✧

Dawn approached and Gotham City prepared for another fruitful day.

After the night’s phone call, you had woken up in an exceptionally good mood. An emotion that was reflected by your soulmate.

You had imagined Dick somewhere in the manor smiling to himself and brushing his hair in just the right style. Not a hair out of place.

With high hopes for the day ahead, you had a bounce in your step. There were no quizzes, tests, nor essays to be minded. A smooth day would be nothing short of appreciated.

Yet not all days go as expected. Something was off. Something that could very well change your day for the worse.

Each hurried step brought you closer to your next class. If only the time would tick faster.

At school, you weren’t oblivious to the change.

People, both students and staff, were looking at you. No short glances.

It made you on alert and your skin crawl.

You could not wait to be home. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to eat lunch.

Just make it through English and find a quiet spot for lunch. One thing at a time. That’s all, you thought. Maybe it’s ink on my face.

Sitting at your desk, you kept to yourself.

The day’s lesson would start soon. However, not soon enough.

“Is it true?” A student asked from the desk to the left of yours.

“What?” You asked and opened a notebook.

“That Bruce Wayne’s ward is your soulmate.”

 Someone knew! How could that be?

No words left you. How were you supposed to respond when the room grew increasingly warm?

“Hello?”

“I—…. Where did you hear that?” You questioned, watching them closely.

“My boyfriend’s friend overheard the science teachers talking about you and how you found out the ward is your soulmate.” They grinned and asked further. “How’d you know? Did you bump into him at some gala or something?”

“No…”

Technically, you hadn’t been at a gala nor did you physically run into Dick Grayson.

How could you slip out of the conversation? It was too late to turn back. Another two students were listening in.

“How’d you know it was him?” A student sitting in front of you asked.

“He’s my friend,” you muttered.

“Before or after?”

Your arms tensed. “Why is anyone asking?”

“(Y/N)’s trying to avoid answering,” someone added in.

“It’s fine. Half the school probably knows by now.” They shrugged as the bell rang.

Half the school.

Eyes and attention turned elsewhere. The teacher headed to the front of the classroom.

You wanted to seek shelter underneath a blanket.

A month should be good, you thought.

No one else was supposed to know.

You refrained from conjuring up scenarios in your mind of all the ways you could leave early. It would only add to your distress.

You wanted to cry. Simply hide and run through emotions for as long as you needed.

I wanna go home. You curled in to yourself.

✧ ✧ ✧

Just outside of Gotham City, inside of the Wayne Manor, young Dick Grayson was not having much luck in his day either. Word traveled further than one school.

Dark shoes crossed the cream colored carpet as Dick restarted his pacing.

Dick had returned from school. His mind going a mile a minute. He was sure that steam could be coming out of his ears.

Word had gotten out that Dick Grayson found his soulmate.

While at school, he overheard students gossiping how they were surprised he found his and teased how he probably didn’t even spend time with his soulmate because he was always studying. They spoke of you without even knowing your name. Without a care if their words were true.

It’s not fair, Dick thought. It’s none of their business. I can’t even imagine what (Y/N)’s heard at school.

Dick knew you were having just as bad a day as he was with people spreading the news. Every jolt of fear and crumbling piece of dread, he felt it all through your bond.

If he could had hid you both in the manor’s couch, he would. Surround yourselves with books, cookies, pillows, and good music. Keep you close and safe. Away from prying eyes and unwanted opinions. Only two. A secluded place of peace.

Stopping in the middle of the room, Dick clenched his fists.

“This is exactly whey we didn’t want anyone else knowing. People make up stories about what soulmates do without even thinking.” Dick frowned. “It’s not that rare for someone to find their soulmate, is it?”

From where Bruce Wayne sat on the coffee table, he remained calm and level-headed.

“It’s not normally spoken openly for us to know a direct answer. That is also why having the knowledge of soulmates knowing they found one another spread quickly, such as in your case, is uncommon.”

“Great,” Dick groaned sarcastically.

“People are interested for now. It will not be long before something else catches their attention.”

“And what do we do until then? Wait? It’ll be the only thing we’ll be thinking about.”

“I am sorry you have to face this alone at school. I wish there was something I could do.”

“Gosh, it’s not your fault.”

The youth’s shoulders dropped. His hands clenching and unclenching into fists.

What was there for young Dick Grayson to do?

Deep in thought, Bruce Wayne tapped his finger on his chin.

“Regardless of how people found out; you and (Y/N) should see each other soon.”

“And hide from everyone?”

“Preferably not. Unless you two wish to stay out of range from more gossip.”

Blowing out hot air, Dick looked elsewhere in the room.

Who would tell so many people? Dick wondered. (Y/N) must hate every second of this. Golly, I hope they don’t decide to stop visiting or answering the phone. They hardly like the phone to begin with.

“Master Dick.” Alfred stood beside the youth with a tray. “For contemplation.”

What? Dick glanced over curiously.

A tall glass of ice cream piled high. One long dessert spoon waiting.

“Oh.” He took the items gratefully.

Smiling in hopes that the young man could ease some of his negative emotions, the loyal butler nodded.

“Thanks, Alfred.” Dick sat down on the couch to eat.

“You’re welcome, Master Dick.” Alfred held the tray under his arm. “There is still no word on the origin of this preposterous gossip. I’m sad to report.”

“It’s quite alright, Alfred, thank you. Answers have a way of showing themselves.” Mister Wayne said.

Hopefully sooner.

Alfred walked out quietly.

Relishing in the taste of ice cream cooled down the ward. A perfect treat for a disgusting school day.

(Y/N) should be home or close to it. They might have figured out who blabbed. Or found out. He thought between spoonfuls of deliciousness. (Y/N) will want to stay in their room because of this.

Concern for his soulmate kept Dick thinking ahead.

“Is there anything else we could do? (Y/N) and I. Something fun.”

Anything besides homework.

Admitting to the truth in what other students were saying left Dick Grayson fuming inside. Yes, he mainly did something educational with you. There were no parties or trips. Not even a purchase of fries. Nothing too personal.

“There are plenty of activities the pair of you could partake in. Whether here or in the city; you have the choice.”

“Holy headache. There are so many options.”

To remain in the manor or venture out in Gotham City again with you. What choices indeed.

“How about you start with milkshakes? That way you can enjoy one another’s company, talk, and get to know one another more. Have fun together.”

Heels clicked across the floor before a huff announced Aunt Harriet’s entrance.

“When I find out who started this, they’ll hear from me.”

Bruce and Dick shared a look of slight intimidation.

✧ ✧ ✧

Late afternoon heat still clung to you as you shut the front door.

You let out a huge sigh of relief.

Finally. Home, you thought and walked further inside.

“Did you have a good day at school?” Your guardian questioned over the pages of a magazine.

“No.”

They inched their magazine down and asked, “How come?”

“Because everyone at school knows Dick Grayson and I are soulmates. They were—.”

Dropping the magazine down, your guardian growled, “That big mouth.”

Heat surged through your body. Eyes narrowing in on the only other person.

“Did you tell?” Your tone teetered between surprised and angered.

They looked at you as if you suddenly asked their opinion on penguins.

“Did you tell someone I found my soulmate?”

“I only told my cousin. They were talking all about how their niece is traveling Europe and about all the photographs she’s sent. So I told them you’re soulmates with Bruce Wayne’s war—.”

“Why would you do that?”

They brushed the magazine aside. “I don’t appreciate the tone you’re giving me. Knock it off.”

“You promised not to tell. Why would you tell anyone?”

“They’re my cousin. Lower your voice.”

“And I had the whole school staring at me all day and asking questions and interested in what I’m doing. I felt like people were coming after me! No one would leave me alone!” You cried. “I didn’t want to be there. I’ve been sick to my stomach all day. I don’t want to go back—.”

“You’re going to school tomorrow.” They stated firmly. “And I’m not the one who spread the news and had it go all to your school. Now, drop it.”

“You still broke your promise.” You started towards your bedroom.

I shouldn’t have told them, you thought.

✧ ✧ ✧

Back in Wayne Manor, young Dick Grayson answered the telephone in a rush.

“Hello?”

“Dick Grayson, you are the best person in my life right now and I need to vent.” You murmured into the phone.

“Oh, okay. Are you alright?”

He figured you were in the study again. Some place quiet.

“No. My day still stinks.” You announced. “My guardian told their cousin and now most of Gotham City knows we’re soulmates.”

“They told?” Dick’s voice raised in alarm.

How could they?

His chest tightened as he heard you sniffling.

“It’s been less than forty-eight hours. There’s no excuse for what they did. They promise.” You exhaled. “I shouldn’t have forced myself to tell them. Deep down, I probably knew.”

“It’s not your fault,” he reminded you.

Inside, he could still feel your emotions tearing you apart.

“Yeah, but my friends dumped question after question at lunch. They felt left out, I guess. But they’re determined to get others to leave me alone.” You informed him. “One was shouting in the hall.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, how many times do people have to ask or say ‘Bruce Wayne’s ward’? You have a name.”

“I don’t really care what they call me.”

“I do.”

“I know,” he said softly.

At least their friends are supportive, he thought in relief. (Y/N) needs a break.

Dick Grayson stood taller with the phone in hand. Ready to start changing their relationship—adding to it. Fun.

“Are you busy Saturday?”

“Uh, no. I don’t think so,” you answered. “Why?”

“Would you like to go have milkshakes with me? There’s a place in town.”

“Yeah. That sounds great.” You voice had perked up. “Too bad Saturday isn’t tomorrow.” A drop of sorrow yanked it all down again.

“Do you need anything?” He asked.

You sighed and answered, “Time away from this chaos. Dinner is going to be tense.”

“Your guardian knows you’re upset with them?”

“Yes, but more so that I raised my voice.”

“You’re in trouble?” He asked, shocked.

“Yup.”

“That’s not right!”

“I know. Can’t do anything about it,” you muttered. “Can’t wait until Saturday.”

“Me either.”

It was to be more than an outing away from schoolwork. Meaningful. Time needed to get away from stressors. Away from people who saw you through a different lens, discolored and unclear.

“I miss you,” you whispered.

Air caught in his throat. A constricting sadness as he stood miles from you.

“I miss you too.” He rubbed at his eyes. “Please call if you need anything. Even to talk. I’m—we’re here.”

“Okay.” You sniffled again. “I might just make something quick for dinner and be officially done with the day.”

“Alright. Take care.”

“You too.”

“Sweet dreams,” Dick added. “I’ll see you Saturday. I’ll call you beforehand.”

“Sweet dreams of Saturday.”

“I hope so. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Dick Grayson hung up the phone in a dispirited state.

For one; he knew who opened their mouth about soulmates. Knowing it was your guardian and there was no apology in sight lit a fire in him.

A promise broken. Trust possibly misplaced. Gotham City knew one of Dick Grayson’s secrets.

What could happen next?

Surely, your guardian wouldn’t keep you from seeing your soulmate for being upset.

Only time would tell.

✧ ✧ ✧

A quiet Saturday morning inside your bedroom and all was well. No alarms at early hours. Just you.

The school week had dragged on for what seemed like a month. Even homework appeared to had doubled. It was not much of a distraction to anyone, including yourself.

For the better part of the week, you spent it avoiding the news on television, sitting in your room, and walking to class alone. Eventually, the staring toned down.

Everything else feels like it’s moving fast, you thought. Piles of assignments due next week. My guardian said something about going somewhere. Don’t remember. Hope I’m not going. Dick still hasn’t called yet.

Quietly, you sat on your bed. Vinyl albums were lined up by the wall down by the nightstand. Your sketchpad underneath your clock.

How long has it been since I last saw him? You held up your fingers. Over a week? That’s not bad. Barely a week.

“We’re having fun though,” you said softly.

Your only audience: a blue bunny stuffed animal. Never judgmental and always there. That was Sir Hopps. He knew all about your soulmate before anyone else.

Scrunching up your face, you focused for a moment feeling annoyance.

What am I annoyed for? You thought and grabbed the bunny’s paw.

“Wait, no, that’s not me.”

No now any way.

Glancing over to the shoes you picked out, you ignored the sounds coming from beyond your door.

I hope he calls soon. I didn’t even completely tell my guardian…that may or may not backfire. But they want me out with people like them. You sighed. Wait, is anyone going to be with us? Is it just us?

Your questions left you perplexed with more.

However fast your thoughts raced, you were again distracted by a wave of Dick’s emotions. Ever active and changing since late at night.

I hope he’s alright.

Knowing The Boy Wonder’s identity was not an easy weight to bear. You worried for his safety. There was no way to know for sure in the moment.

But one thing was certain: You were going to see Dick Grayson. There was nothing your guardian could say or do to change that.

✧ ✧ ✧

Police Headquarters of Gotham City held victorious congratulations and nods of thanks.

Batman and Robin had spent all night on a case.

Between being captured and solving clues, Robin was ready for sleep.

But it was Saturday morning!

The sooner we wrap up the case here, the sooner I can see (Y/N), thought The Boy Wonder.

“—an excellent start of the weekend,” said Commissioner Gordon. “So much news this week. I even heard from a reliable source that, the millionaire, Bruce Wayne’s ward found his soulmate. Miraculous, isn’t it?”

Robin just about burst.

“Holy connected metropolis!” Robin hit his open palm. “Can’t people let private lives be private?”

Commissioner Gordon and Chief O’Hara shared quizzical expressions.

Thankfully, Batman stepped in.

“It’s a wonder how news can travel by word, isn’t it?”

“It is quite impressive, Batman,” said the Commissioner.

“Too bad the youth are left at the forefront of gossip. It’s challenging enough for teenagers to navigate social lives while preparing for their academic future.” Batman shook his head solemnly.

“I didn’t think of it that way,” said Chief O’Hara as he hung his head.

“That’s alright, Chief O’Hara. Anyone can be swept up in the excitement of soulmates meeting, but we must not forget they are people too.”

Excitement, indeed!

The very emotion that zapped through Robin as they left.

After returning to the manor, Dick raced to get ready. His mood greatly lifted. He was actually going to see you. No schoolwork allowed. He might even have time for a quick nap.

✧ ✧ ✧

Afternoon light shone over Gotham City bringing endless possibilities.

While fast-walking along the sidewalk, you kept your eyes open for the shop Dick mentioned over the phone. You could hardly wait to get there.

Before you could read the next sign, there was a burst of joy in your chest.

Dick. Where—?

Out in front of the shop was your smiling soulmate. A beaming light of happiness as ever.

You sped up to reach him.

“Hey,” you greeted.

The moment you were close enough, you both embraced. Curling in to each other. Problems of the week fading into the background.

“I’m glad you made it.” Dick gave you one last squeeze and stepped back.

“Me too. I never left home so fast.”

He chuckled and quickly proceeded to cover his mouth for a long moment.

Is he yawning? You thought and checked his eyes.

“Are you feeling alright?” You asked and smoothed the pad of your thumb under his eye.

Closing his eyes for only as long as your touch lingered, he answered, “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Awh.”

Crime fighting business. Goodness. Poor thing.

Without thinking on it, you grabbed his hand.

“Well, come on. You can relax inside.”

Smile returning, his hand clasped yours firmly.

“We both need it.” Dick declared before opening the door and following you in.

Waiting for two milkshakes wasn’t too torturous. Fighting back a brain freeze while sitting in a quiet corner of the shop was, however.

“That’ll wake you up,” you joked and stopped scrunching up your nose.

“Not on purpose.” Dick took another sip from his milkshake.

“Mmhmm.” You reached over the short distance to his glass and drew a smiley face within the condensation.

From underneath the small table, Dick bumped your shoe with his own.

The goof strikes back, you thought and tried hiding your smile behind the straw. Him and his pretty blue eyes. Tired blue eyes.

“I’m surprised you’re here alone.” You said. “No offense or anything. I’m not used to it.”

“Aunt Harriet might be jealous I get to see you.”

“Oh, no.” You snickered. “What are you gonna do?”

“Drink my milkshake and keep you smiling as much as possible.”

Grinning came so easily. Not a second of time could hold it back as a starburst of happiness emerged from within.

However tired your soulmate appeared, he was determined to make your day memorable—lighter. Every ounce better than the entirety of the school week.

“That’s a good plan.” You said and drew another smiley face on his glass. “I like it.”

“Thanks.”

Dick’s eyes were downcast. Attention elsewhere, but not far.

“Have you read anything new?”

“No,” you pouted. “Too much homework. You?”

“No. Just homework.”

Always with the homework. Someone’s going to think it’s a hobby.

Across the shop, laughter and chatter erupted. It settled down almost as soon as it started. Chairs scuffed the floor.

Ignoring the other customers would had been simple if not for the strange itching feeling of being watched.

An attempt to write it off as your imagination failed. Your lack of attention almost caused you another brain freeze from your treat. Almost being key.

Discreetly, you inspected the group from the corner of your eye.

Great, you thought sarcastically.

A student you recognized from school. A double date by the look of it.

You gazed hard at your milkshake.

Why do they have to look at us for? Ignore me! You have your own milkshakes. You thought. If I hear ‘ward’…. They just better not.

A hand covered your own and your irritated thoughts begun melting away.

“What’s wrong?” Dick inquired as he leaned across the table.

“People from school are here. They keep looking,” you whispered.

He surveyed the tables, searching until he saw multiple sets of eyes on him.

Setting on a professional, calm smile and holding their gazes did the trick. No more long and overly curious staring from the group.

How’s he do that?

Dick returned all his attention to you.

“What if they come over?”

“I doubt it.” Dick had more of his milkshake.

“Okay…”

Slight movement and his shake was next to yours. Next, Dick pushed back his chair before setting it as close to yours as he could. Only then did he sit back down.

The corner of the table was then a meeting spot for your arm and his. Deliberately close.

“There.”

“Here.” You said.

“Where I should be.”

A wave of light flutters sailed over your already uplifting emotions.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“Any time.”

Why was he so wonderful? How, really. You thought.

Reflexively, you returned to drinking the milkshake. Probably too delicious for its own good.

Time went by with an unknown speed.

You were living too close to a dreamlike state to care.

Noise and talking in the shop had long since turned into white noise. Lighting was not harsh or irritating. It was a nice public space.

Comfort hand gestures morphed into playful movements.

Milkshakes were about half finished or more.

Perhaps this was cloud nine?

There was no desperate need to think of anything to say. No anxious thoughts to question your actions.

Why break a comfortable silence?

Delicately and slowly, his fingertips brushed across your hand.

You watched quietly.

Unsure of what exactly you were feeling kept your mind minutely occupied.

It’s different when he does it, you thought. Or…it isn’t.

Dick’s finger traced around your thumb. All with a featherlike touch. Like it was all new actions. Unsure, but wanting to tell you something.

Blinking, you inhaled suddenly. You weren’t sure if you had been breathing properly.

Another sip of the melting milkshake could help.

You weren’t nervous. Starting to question yourself, perhaps, or the world itself.

“Can I ask you a weird question?” You voice did not sound as confident as you’d wish.

“Sure.”

Oh goodness, you thought as you sought out procrastination by your fingers memorizing the tiny curves of his hand.

Your gaze held your milkshake instead of him.

Just ask. We are literally touching hands. Why? I don’t really know. Just because?

“Do you, uh, do you think we’d still pick each other as friends…and be in each other’s lives without the whole soulmate thing?”

Shoot. It’s a terrible question. I shouldn’t—

“I think we would,” Dick answered thoughtfully.

“Really?” You chanced a look and were greeted by honest blue eyes.

“I think we were meant to meet regardless. It just turns out we’re soulmates, which,” he smiled, “is a pretty good bonus.”

Covering half your face with your free hand, you sputtered a laugh at his words. Your face warm.

“I wasn’t prepared for you to compete against a sweet milkshake, but here we are.”

Dick chuckled and took another sip.

I’m glad he doesn’t hide it. Being nice is in his nature. Sweet since day one?

The mention of ‘day one’ had your mind picturing the charity event. Another day one.

“But…um.” You swallowed. “Can I ask you about what happened at the book charity dinner? If that’s okay?” Your fingers had paused their movements. Eyes, again, focused on your drink.

“What about?”

You weren’t sure how to ask. Thinking about that day still gave you mixed feelings. Both about your guardian and Dick Grayson.

“What happened after Batgirl lift? My guardian wasn’t big on details.”

You felt his gaze on you as yours hadn’t moved.

“We were still on the floor. Bruce was beside me. Checking on us. Um. Your guardian was…shaken up and the Commissioner was trying to get them to talk until more help arrived. Then they took you home. There was a lot of waiting around.”

“They were scared?”

“Probably. You were knocked out.”

“But you helped me.”

“I’ll always help you. I mean…I’ll do what I can.”

“I know. I just… No one told me that. You were with me the whole time?”

“I couldn’t leave you on the floor alone.”

“Thank you. For all of it.” You said. “I actually wanted to thank you when you first invited me over, but uh… You had other news.”

“Oh. You’re very welcome.”

Your lips curved upwards.

“Can I ask you a question?” Dick inquired. He begun tracing the lines of your palm.

“Yeah.”

Question about what? That night? When I woke up?

“What would be your ideal day?”

Oh.

“Like Saturday or what I’d do?” You looked up at him.

“How would you spend the day?”

“If I could do anything?” You hummed to yourself.

Spend it with you for sure, you thought.

“Nothing to do with school. Hmmm. Listening to my favorite vinyls. Sometimes the radio doesn’t play what I want to hear or I want to listen to the same song.” You took another sip of your disappearing milkshake. “Read a bit, obviously. Oh! Write, draw, or create a little picnic area with everything I’d want to do and I wouldn’t have to get up.”

“That sounds relaxing and very you.”

You laughed and added, “Me and a dance party with Sir Hopps.”

Dick crinkled his nose in confusion. “Who’s that?”

“My stuffed animal. He’s a blue bunny.”

“Oh. That makes more sense.”

Were you a bit too entertained by Dick’s reaction to your toy companion’s name? Absolutely not. Dick’s expression was gold.

Good to know he’s always paying attention. And curious.

Milkshakes became mere drops. Straws only making loud slurps. A signal that your time at the shop was at an end.

“We could go to a bookstore or a local library,” Dick suggested as you both walked outside.

Paces were slow. Hands close to touching once more.

“I would, but I think you’d be asleep in twenty minutes of absolute quiet.”

Glancing over, you could almost imagine the thoughts swimming behind his eyes. Tables definitely involved.

Before you could suggest for him to go home for proper sleep, he spoke up.

“I drove here and…maybe you could come with me to make sure I get home.”

Oh, you thought, he dug deep for that one. A little.

“And Aunt Harriet really wants to see you—but she’s out for a while. I don’t know when she’ll be back.

More time with him. And he’s not that tired. I hope.

“Can’t argue with that logic.” You smiled. “And I’ll make sure you don’t get sleepy.”

“Really?”

His eyes lit up.

“Yes.” You bumped his arm. “I’ll always help you too.”

“Gee.”

Sparks of what was seeming to be endless joy reignited in your chest. Something you both had in common.

To be in one another’s company while sharing emotions remained a curious delight. Like communicating secrets in silence. Knowing your soulmate made it all the more special. Personal.

✧ ✧ ✧

Back at the stately Wayne Manor, Dick Grayson and his soulmate arrived safely. Thank goodness.

A ride filled with laughter and a game of ‘I Spy’ kept the youthful ward well awake.

It might not had been foiling criminal schemes, but it was still exciting.

More than a rush, Dick thought. We were so happy. Are.

Blue eyes locked the image of your content expression deep into his memories. As with every moment since seeing you arrive to the shop for milkshakes. Each second was arguably better than the last. Just you and him together. Your captivating presence pulling him in.

Never in his days did he think of wanting so much to hold onto someone’s hand. It made his heart swell.

Was this what happened to other soulmates?

At that moment, he was glad to have you at the manor and not just for your sake. There was no guarantee what would come out of his mouth if he was face to face with your guardian. Or Aunt Harriet seeing your guardian, for that matter!

You had yet to forgive them and he wasn’t eager to either. It was information he inquired on the drive over.

They’re happy here. Dick thought as he watched Bruce welcome you back.

For all the joy and break from academics, there was one problem that eluded the pair of you.

“What are your plans?” Bruce asked politely.

Oh, uh…

Dick turned to you and you to him.

“I don’t know.” An amused smile curved his lips.

You shrugged and also answered, “I’m used to doing homework here.”

Bruce chuckled at the two of you.

“I’m sure we will think of something.” Bruce encouraged.

“Thanks, Bruce.” Dick beamed and slipped his fingers between yours.

Grateful for much in his life, Dick Grayson was ever more glad to have you by his side.

Rain, gossip, studying, and criminal schemes couldn’t keep you a part forever.

Being soulmates and sensing the other’s emotions meant you were together in a way. No matter how far. That, perhaps, was a thought to hold onto for the future.

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~

Part 4 -> "Emotions And Realizations"

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

coffee

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[jazzminte]

unfazed by my parents' "long lasting marriage" bcs i still remember how this very marriage scarred me for life ever since i was 11 and was the fuckin worst when i was 18 and still Just trying to figure out what my next step in life should be. i probably will nvr forget.

it's their anniversary today and my mom asked if i was gonna wish them a happy anniv etc etc im like yea im glad ure all ok now but w the expense of my mental health??? hahahahahaha funny. u wouldnt even let me get professional help after u and ur marriage being the literal reason why i needed one in the first place. fucking hilarious.

i know i sound petty but imagine spending more than half of ur life in complete and utter misery, collecting all these unhealed scabs and wounds and unresolved issues that hv literally negatively affected ur own relationships, who wouldnt be? their marriage was the literal fucking reason why i am the way i am rn, with all the mental illnesses and bad fuckin memories and this trauma that i will nvr find real happiness in My Own marriage, how am i supposed to celebrate it without being fucking reminded of how huge of a toll it had taken on me?

it's good enough that i am only unfazed, but really i don't think i'll ever find it in me to simply just forgive and forget what you both had put me through to get to where you are rn. senang senang je lupa how much you had tortured me with YOUR problematic marriage, and expect me to just forget and be happy for y'all. what a joke, honestly. i shouldn't be surprised dah la that this is what you take me for.

happy anniversary? yeah tell that to 11 yr old me. to my 18 year old self.

to me at the age of 10, hugging ur legs and wailing on the floor trying to fucking save ur marriage, stopping u from up and leaving ur fucking family behind. me at 11, when i first found out abt the fucking affair. me at 14, first time self harming bcs i could not fucking stand the yells and the fights and the fucking family falling apart. me at 18, ur uncertified therapist, listening to both of u talking shit abt each other and trying to get on my good side, me a few months later finding out abt the fucking divorce papers. me at 20, already fucking exhausted by everything at this point only to hv u Both gaslight me for thinking that ive had it bad. me at 21, being denied the need for professional help Simply bcs none of u could ever comprehend the fucking damage uve inflicted on me AFTER ALL THESE YEARS. me now at 22, hoping and praying for NOTHING ELSE but to escape this hellhole ive had to call "home". me now at 23, going through my first heartbreak bcs of a boy but not even close to compare to my first few 100 heartbreaks caused by both of u who were supposed to take care of me. me my whole life, hving to give up my childhood just to parent u both. me now, hving to take matters into my own hands to heal my inner child.

so forgive me if i can't ever wish u a happy anniversary. not back then, not now, and im afraid not ever. u of all people shouldnt be surprised. u of all people shouldnt be asking why. u already know the answer. now face it for the rest of ur life.

[leossmoonn]

can i request a fic with stefan where the reader loses her memories (like stefan did in s5) so stefan takes her out to all the places that are special to their relationship and he tells her all about how they used to date and how she loved him and all and then at the end she kisses him ❤️

if not that's okay! have a good day and make sure to drink some water ❤️❤️

okay ill be honest i dont remember anything of tvd from season 4 and on bc it was just so boring to me but YES I CAN DK THIS. and thank you! i hope you have a good day, and hydrate too <33 mwah!

masterlist

warnings / includes - mild language, crying, sad stefan, kissing, eating and food, talk about sex. oh and youre a vampire and grew up w stefan and damon :)) and you’ve been dating stefan ever since you two turned into vampires and you two have been married for 50 years! (yay) . not really edited

————

“can’t you just do your voodoo magic and fix her?”

“that’s not how it works, damon.”

“well, it works whenever elena needs it. just admit it, you don’t like y/n.”

“i do! this is just more complicated -”

“bullshit! i know you don’t know her very well, but we’ve known her since she was born. she’s my best friend and the love of my brother’s life, who, by the way, is about to go into a frenzy if you don’t fix her!”

“i’m trying! but whatever those traveler’s did, i don’t think i can reverse it.”

“argh!” damon growled, putting his hands under a table and ripping it up.

“okay, you need to calm down,” bonnie said. “throwing a fit won’t help.”

“well, i can’t just stand here and watch her die!”

“she’s not dying, she’s just asleep. the doctor said she will wake up soon.”

“oh, as if the doctor knows anything,” damon muttered.

“she actually knows a lot, and we’ll give her the treatments the doctor recommends before we try any magic.”

damon sighed, running his hands over his face. he looked over to you, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. he walked over to you, holding your hand in his.

“please wake up, y/n. please.”

it seemed as damon’s wishes were granted. your eyes fluttered open, a soft groan filled your throat as you tried to move your head back and forth. you peered at bonnie and damon, brows furrowing.

“who are you? and why-why are you holding my hand? get away from me!” you hissed, barring your fangs.

“well, she definitely knows she a vampire,” damon muttered.

bonnie ignored him, coming over to you tentatively. “hey, y/n. do you know who i am?”

“no. i-i want to go home. where am i? why-why does this look so strange? hospitals at home don’t look like this,” you gasped as you looked around your room.

“is she still stuck in the 1800s?” bonnie asked.

“let’s see. uh, y/n, what’s the date?” damon asked.

“1866, right?” you guessed.

“oh, shit,” damon muttered.

“what’s wrong?” you frowned. “y/n, you’re in the 21st century. it’s 2013,” bonnie explained.

your eyes bugged out of your head. “what? how-how can this be? you’re lying! you’re some witch! katherine warned me that you would try to trick me. who are you with? wha-what do you want from me?!”

“okay, crazy pants,” damon sighed. “do you know who i am?” he asked.

you took a good, hard look. “you look familiar… like you’re from a dream.”

“good, good, but do you know my name?”

your brain scrambled for the answer, but it all came up was blank.

“no, i’m sorry.”

“well, crap,” damon muttered. “what if we get stefan? he’s been her boyfriend for like, a hundred and fifty years. plus, they’ve been married for 50. she’s got to remember him,” bonnie suggested.

“yeah, okay,” damon nodded. “go and get him. i’ll stay with her.”

“why don’t i stay with her, and you go get stefan. you might irritate her enough to make her snap your neck,” bonnie snorted.

“fine. i’ll be back in a second. try to use your powers on her,” damon asked.

“no. now go,” bonnie shooed away damon.

he left, zooming through the halls to go and find his brother. meanwhile, bonnie went to sit next to you, taking your hand in hers.

“what are you doing. i said don’t touch me,” you hissed.

“what is your name?” bonnie asked.

“y/n,” you said. “what’s your full name?” she asked.

“y/n l/n,” you answered. “why are you asking me this? do you think i do not know my name?”

“no, no. i just…” bonnie sighed. “what’s your mother’s name?”

“louise,” you said. “and your father’s?” bonnie asked.

“martin. and before you ask, my sister and brother’s names are anna and christopher. are you studying me or something? oh, my… i-i swear i’m not dangerous. i don’t feed on people. not usually, anyways. please, spare me. if you want a real vampire, catch katherine pierce. her real name is katerina petrova. or klaus mikaelson, his whole family needs to be killed. please, i -”

“i’m not going to kill you. no one is going to kill you. and katherine is already dead,” bonnie explained.

“oh, really? well, then ignore what i said about her."

bonnie smiled a little. “it’s alright. do you remember anything that’s happened in the last 24 hours?”

“no, i’m sorry. i must ask again, where am i?” you questioned.

“well, you’re in 2013. about one hundred and forty-nine years from when you were turned into a vampire. that man who was here is damon salvatore. he’s been your best friend ever since you were born. you grew up together, and he turned you into a vampire. i’m bonnie bennett. i am… i have a sort of friendship with damon. i’m a witch from the bennett line. i am here to help you. we’re friends, too, actually.”

“oh,” you pursed your lips. “i’m sorry i don’t remember you. i think i remember one of your family members, though… emma, ella, em-”

“emily, yeah,” bonnie smiled. “well, it’s good to know i’m in good company,” you sighed.

“yes, you are. oh, and there’s one more person i forgot to mention. he’s damon’s brother, stefan. he’s your -”

“y/n!”

your head snapped to the door. a handsome young man stepped into the room, worrying filing his features.

“hello?” you frowned.

“it’s me, stefan. you’re husband,” the man said.

your eyes widened. “i-i- excuse me? my husband? i didn’t know i was-” your breath hitched as you saw the ring on your finger. it was a beautiful silver ring with a blue jewel in the middle, stefan and your name carved in the middle of it.

“oh,” you gasped.

“do you remember me?” he asked, coming closer to you.

you looked back up at him, furrowing your brows as you tried to remember. you shook your head in disappointment. “no, i’m sorry. i wish i could. what happened to me that i can’t remember my own husband?"

“travelers took your memory,” bonnie answered. “travelers? l-like the evil witches?” you guessed.

“yes, precisely,” bonnie nodded.

“well, can you get back my memories? you’re a witch, right?” you asked her.

“exactly! that’s what i was saying. i’m so glad someone gets it!” damon exclaimed.

“i-i’m sorry, who are you again?” you frowned. “damon. i’m damon salvatore. the best salvatore, and your best friend,” he grinned.

“oh, right - damon. and you’re uh, you’re bonnie, correct?” you turned to the brunette.

“i am,” bonnie nodded.

“and you’re…“ you turned to stefan.

hope was shining in his dazzling green eyes. his lips were pulled into a frown, his brows furrowed as tears clouded his eyes.

“you’re stefan! my, uh, my husband whom i can’t remember. i’m so sorry, again.”

“it’s okay,” he sighed. “you just woke up. you’ll probably remember later.”

“yes,” you nodded, “that’s probably it.”

just then, the doctor came in. she checked you out, telling you that you had to stay in the hospital one more night before you could be discharged. after she left, damon, bonnie, and stefan made up a plan.

“i can’t just put her memories back. i don’t have any access to them,” bonnie said.

“can’t you just pull them out of the air or something?” damon asked.

“magic doesn’t work like that, damon,” bonnie glared.

“what if we take her to all her favorite places? places she’s been to lots of times,” stefan suggested.

“yes! that is a great idea, except for the fact that she thinks she’s in the 1800s and most things that were there have been torn down or rebuilt!” damon seethed.

“well, then what else are we supposed to do, damon! we can’t just sit here and hope that her memories will come back. what if they never do!” stefan yelled.

“shut up you two! you’re scaring her!” bonnie hit both of them, then pointing to you.

both of the salvatore’s face softened as they saw your eyes wide with fear.

“look, she doesn’t know you two yet. she doesn’t trust you two. she literally thought we were going to capture her for being a vampire. we need to just take it easy and gain her trust, which won’t be hard, i hope. but i think that stefan’s idea is great. and stefan, you should be the one to do it. you deserve to build the strongest bond with her and to spend the most time with her,” bonnie explained.

stefan smiled at her gratefully. “thank you, bonnie.”

“of course, stefan,” she smiled back at him.

“what about me! i was her friend before you were even born!” damon poked stefan.

“she was literally a baby, damon. she didn’t even know who you were,” stefan scoffed.

“oh, she did. and she loved playing peek-a-boo with me,” damon huffed.

“well, i’ve been her actual best friend just a few months after she was born. you’ve been like the brother she’s never had,” stefan stated.

“same difference.” damon rolled his eyes.

“b-bonnie?” you stammered.

“yeah, what do you need?” bonnie came over to you immediately.

“um, i need to use the bathroom.” you whispered.

“oh, yeah, of course. gentlemen, please exit the room.” bonnie said to the two men.

“alright. hey, y/n, you hungry? we can get you something to eat,” damon asked.

“yes. i’m famished, honestly. um, can i have some meatloaf, please? with some wine?” you requested.

“um, y/n, i’m afraid to inform you that -” damon started, but stefan cut him off.

“we’ll see what we can find,” stefan said.

“thank you… stefan, was it?” you guessed.

“yeah. it’s stefan,” he smiled. “okay, c’mon, lover boy. the lady needs to use the restroom,” damon grabbed stefan, dragging him out of your room and shutting the door.

bonnie then helped you out of the bed and into the restroom, waiting behind the door until you called for help.

“thank you so much. your kindness is very much appreciated.” you smiled at her as she helped you back to bed.

“it’s not a problem.” bonnie sighed with a smile.

“will you be able to get my memories back?” you asked.

“um… no. not right now, i’m sorry,” bonnie frowned.

“oh, well, it’s alright. maybe it’s for the better. i can’t imagine all the horrible things i must have done to you and your friends,” you laughed sourly.

“what do you mean?” bonnie asked.

“well, i… i overheard you a little when i was waking up. damon said that you didn’t like me much. i don’t blame you, i mean, i can be crass and judgmental, but i’ve changed over the years. i-i think, at least. otherwise i suppose i would be dead from those travelers now. no one wants to help a horrible person,” you explained.

“well, you’re not horrible, at all. for someone who has been with damon for like, almost two hundred years, you’re very kind. you’re also very funny and you try to help people the best you can.”

“oh, thank you,” you smiled shyly. “um… what do you mean about being with damon?”

“oh, he’s just um… not my favorite person to be around is all. you’ll see,” bonnie chuckled.

“i think i have, a little,” you giggled. “but he seems to care a lot about me. i suppose he’s known me since i’ve been born.”

“no, he does. honestly, like stefan said earlier, damon is the older brother you never bad.”

“and stefan, he is supposed to be my best friend and lover?”

bonnie smiled, “yes.”

“can you tell me about stefan? do-do you know him well?” you asked.

“i do, actually. he’s so kind, always wanting to help people and be the best. i swear, he works himself to death trying to be the hero. he’s very level-headed and extremely smart. he’s more mellow than damon, definitely, but he has his funny, savage moments. he’s dealt with a lot of pain in his years, and you’ve been there to experience it all. in fact, he always tells us how you are his light. it’s really sweet. i wish someone talked about me like that.”

heat crept up your neck and you couldn’t help but smile. “well, i understand why i fell in love with him, then.”

bonnie chuckled, “yeah, he’s a great guy. he’s probably more rough around the edges now than he used to be, though.”

“well, that’s what happens when you’ve lived for so long,” you chuckled. “i personally think i’ve softened over the years. i remember when i was a little girl, i used to be so quick and temperamental. my mother always tried to reprimand me, but i had a mind of my own, i guess. or that’s what my father used to say. now that i think about it, i think stefan is the reason why i have changed. he’s seemed to rub off on me.”

“wait, are you starting to get your memory back?” bonnie asked, getting excited.

“no, i’m afraid not. well, not of current things. i just am remembering things about myself. i still don’t remember damon or stefan,” you frowned

“oh, well, it’s okay. you only woke up an hour ago. we’ll give it time.” bonnie patted your arm.

“thank you. you must forgive me, i’ve always had a horrible memory. and now with mine taken away, i probably will be a burden.”

“no, no,” bonnie shook her head. “please, you’re our friend. i’m sorry if damon made it seem like i don’t like you, but i do. we just don’t spend time with each other that much, but we definitely will now.”

“i hope you don’t mind it, then.”

“i definitely don’t, don’t worry.”

you two sat in a comfortable silence, stefan and damon coming back only a few minutes later.

“so, you can’t have any wine, so we got you the next best thing: grape juice. and we also didn’t find any meatloaf, but we did find some spaghetti and meatballs,” damon said, setting it all down on the table.

“oh, thank you two so much.” you smiled. you began to get up, your feet slipping suddenly.

stefan rushed to catch you, his hands going under your arms. your eyes met his immediately, your breath getting caught in your lungs. you fell into a sort of a daze as he lifted you back up on your feet.

“my, you’re handsome,” you muttered.

“thank you. you’re beautiful,” stefan smiled.

your jaw fell open, your eyes widening. “o-oh. did i say that out loud? i am so sorry -”

“no, it’s okay. it was really nice to hear that,” he assured you.

“alright, thank you,” you smiled. “of course. my pleasure.” he let go of you, pulling out a chair.

“so, i say we compel the doctor to let you go home now so we can get this show on the road!” damon announced.

“no, they need to monitor her-”

“she’s a freaking vampire, bonnie!” damon exclaimed in a hushed whisper. he then turned to you. “you feel fine, right?”

“yes. a lot better now that i’ve eaten,” you answered.

damon grinned, clapping his hands. “see? she’s fine. i say we get her into her room and let her sleep in her bed.”

“damon, that’s not-”

“excuse me,” you interrupted stefan, peering at him through your eyes. “if you don’t mind me interjecting, i’d quite like to go home. and damon is right, i am a vampire so besides my memories, my body has healed me completely.”

stefan looked at you for a few moments, sighing before talking again. “yeah, that makes sense. are you sure you’re okay to go home? i mean, you almost slipped -”

“i am okay, stefan,” you smiled. “these floors are quite slippery with these socks on.” you moved your feet to show them.

“right,” he nodded. “okay, well, damon? i assume i can trust you to compel the doctors?”

“on it!” damon grinned, rushing out the door.

“is he always this eager to help?” you asked. “only when it comes to you,” stefan chuckled.

“well, i suppose that’s okay, for now,” you hummed.

“yes. you are our first priority,” stefan smiled.

“oh, please don’t let me ruin your daily routine. like you said, damon likes helping me. he seems to not have anything important to do, anyways, no offense.” you lowered your head sheepishly. “but he can help me while you two go to school and such. do you go to high school still?”

“no, we don’t. well, stefan doesn’t, anyways,” bonnie chuckled. “i’m going to college in the fall.”

“oh, that’s wonderful! i see the women have made lots of improvements. what are you going to study?” you asked.

“research and analysis. it’s not really a study, but that’s what i’m majoring in.”

“wow, you must be so smart, then. good for you. i wish i went to college,” you frowned slightly. “

“you did,” stefan spoke up. “oh? what did i study?” you perked up.

“literature. you went around the world teaching english and literature. part of it was to fit in as a human, but another part was because you always had a passion for it.”

“sounds like me,” you smiled. “i loved reading so much. i remember my mother had to hide my books for when we ate dinner.”

“woah, you’re remembering things now?” damon walked into the toom

“not really. i’m only remembering things about myself and my family.”

“damn,” damon muttered. “it’s alright,” stefan said. “anyways, we good to go?”

“indeed we are. let’s roll,” damon said.

stefan helped you out of your seat. you took out your IV, damon rushing you to his car.

“wow. this is beautiful,” you admired his chevy.

“i know! she’s my pride and joy.” damon sighed happily as he opened the door for you.

“thank you,” you smiled at him. he returned the smile, getting into the passenger seat.

“i’ll drive her home, i-”

“actually, can stefan drive me? i’d like to get to know him more. he is my husband, after all,” you said.

stefan’s chest swelled with happiness, his lips upturning into a bright smile.

“i suppose. don’t total my car,” damon warned stefan.

“no promises,” stefan smirked, getting in the driver’s seat. “you know i’m kidding, right? i won’t crash the car.”

“i know, don’t worry,” you smiled. “great,” stefan breathed out as he started the car.

“this is amazing technology. so much faster than the horses.”

“yep. it’s amazing how far we’ve come.”

you nodded, turning your head to look at him. you looked down at his left hand, smiling a little as you saw a silver wedding band.

“how long have we been married for?” you asked.

“50 years. 51 this summer,” he answered. “how long did we date for?” you asked.

“well, we actually didn’t date until we turned vampires. as you probably know, your emotions are heightened once you turn. and our crushes on each other were just too much to ignore, we started dating. we helped each other out a lot, you helped more than me. i mean, i-i was a wreck. with katherine turning us into vampires and all, me killing my dad, damon abandoning me. you were the only person who stuck by me. you know, you were, and still are, my light,” he explained.

you grinned, “bonnie told me that that’s what you call me.”

“ah, she’s told you about me, then. what did she say?” he asked.

“well, she said that you’re very kind and are always wanting to help people. she also said that you are smart and serious, but that you have your breaking moments. she also said that you have experienced a lot of pain. i am sorry to hear that,” you frowned.

“bonnie is very kind. too kind, actually.”

“oh, don’t say that. i happen to think it’s all true. just from what i’ve seen today.”

“thank you. i’m glad i’ve made a good impression.”

“well, you are my husband, so i would think that what bonnie said is true.”

“makes sense,” he nodded. “so, where do i live? with you, i presume?” you questioned.

“yes, and with damon. we live in the salvatore boarding house. it was built for uh, well, boarding in mystic falls.”

“do we have separate rooms?” you asked.

“u-um, no. but, if you’re not comfortable with that, there are plenty of spare rooms-"

"no," you said quickly.

stefan glanced at you, eyes wide in surprise. you chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of your neck.

"u-um, what i mean is that it is okay. i'll get to know your quicker if we share a room. just um, let me have my privacy?" you requested.

"of course, of course," he nodded. "lovely," you exhaled deeply.

you looked out of your window, observing all the people walking around town square.

"so much has changed," you said, a little nostalgic.

"i know, it's crazy," stefan laughed. "but, i'll take you to all the old places we used to go, and the new ones you have gown accustomed to."

"sounds like a deal. you know, i'm excited. is that um… strange that i am so lively after having just woken up from my memories being taken away?" you chuckled a little.

"no, no, not at all. you were always really happy and upbeat, even on the darkest days. that's one of the reasons why i fell in love with you. you may not believe this, but, i'm kind of a debby-downer. you keep it light and fun, much like damon, actually. seems as though all that time you spent with him, as young as you were, you developed someone his behaviour."

"is that a bad thing? bonnie insinuated that damon isn't a good guy," you frowned.

"no, no. you're different. you pick and choose when to be a little um… eccentric. damon just says whatever comes out of his mouth, no matter what the situation is."

"i suppose that's another reason why you love me?" you grinned. "yes, you suppose right," he nodded.

"is this the boarding house?" you pointed to the mansion stefan was pulling in to.

"yes, it is. and, you can call it your home. that's what it is," stefan said.

"alright. it's beautiful." you admired the front.

"it's even better inside. especially our bedroom. you really know how to decorate." he got out of the car, opening the door for you.

"you're very chivalrous. i like it," you giggled. "well, anything for my girl," he flashed a warm smile.

your stomach flipped suddenly, a similar feeling to your heart hammering in your chest awakened. if your heart was still alive, then you it would be palpitating and ramming into your ribcage. you smiled back at him, getting out of the car.

you two walked together to the front, stefan opening the door without unlocking it.

"do we always keep the door unlocked?" you asked. "yeah. you know, the only people we are really worried about are vampires and well, you can't get in unless you invite them in," he answered.

"oh, right. well, that's nice. we don't have to worry so much about security," you said as you stepped inside.

he nodded in agreement, closing the door behind him once you two went inside.

"wow. you're right, it is better inside," you gasped. "mmhm. so, let me show you around. this is the grand study. it was mostly used by our nephew zach, but damon killed him as soon as he got here," stefan sighed.

"o-oh. and damon is supposed to be my best friend?"

"he's better than that, don't worry. you'll see, you'll remember," stefan patted your back.

"alright," you nodded. "anyways, right here is the library's and just out here is the grand hall. here is the dining room and the living room. back there is the kitchen, and next to it is the hearth room." stefan walked you around the house.

"it's amazing. wow, and to think this is my home," you laughed. "yep, all yours," stefan smiled as he heard your laugh.

he admired you as you walked through the living room, feeling around the bookshelves and the furniture. he missed this, seeing you back at home. before you woke up in the hospital, you had been kidnapped and tortured for two weeks before the travelers dumped you in the backyard of your house. after that, stefan rushed you to the hospital and about a day later you were awake. and now here you were, making yourself at home again. you looked so pretty in the setting sunlight. stefan almost wanted to cry at the relief of finally having you home.

"show me the upstairs?" your voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"yeah, yeah, of course," he nodded. he reached his hand out to you, you taking it graciously.

you both smiled at each other, stefan leading you up the stairs.

"so, up here is damon's room. that's where elena, his girlfriend, and him usually are. they have so much sex, you won't be able to get much rest here," stefan snorted.

"i'll make sure to wear my earplugs," you giggled.

stefan smiled at you, walking you to the next rooms. "these are the baths. and right here is our room. every other room up here is a guest room, but uh, this is the main event, i suppose." he opened the bedroom door, letting you peer inside of it.

he was right, you were a great decorator.

the room had green walls, bookshelves on the walls, and a few plants here and there. there was a big bed in the middle with gray sheets, pictures of the two of you hanging above the bed frame. there was a desk and chair in the middle of the room, books and papers strewn all over the desk top. there were picture of you two all over the walls, making you smile whilst also crying.

"what's wrong?" stefan rushed to you.

"oh, it's nothing. i just…" you sighed, turning to him. "these pictures are so lovely. i-i wish i could remember these events."

stefan took your hand in his, giving you a small smile. "don't worry about it. it's not your fault that you can remember.”

"right," you nodded, still disappointed in yourself.

"why don't we go and walk around town? maybe that'll help get your memories back," stefan suggested.

"that sounds fun, but i don't think walking around will reverse dark magic," you joked.

stefan chuckled, nodding in agreement. "you're right, but, you're starting to remember your own childhood. we don't know what the travelers took from you, so maybe they didn't take the memories of you and i. you might just have amnesia."

"i'd love to do anything to try and remember," you said. "me, too. before we go, do you want to change clothes? you've had these clothes on for two weeks," stefan gestured to your ripped shirt and dirty jeans.

"oh, yes. i didn't even realise i was wearing these." you looked down at your legs, eyes widening at the fact you were wearing pants. "when did they invent these?"

"1873, but women still couldn't wear them until the 19th century. and even then, women didn't wear them as regular clothing until the mid-20th century," he explained.

“well, i’m glad that i’ve stayed alive this long to be able to wear these. what are they called again?” you asked.

“jeans,” stefan answered. he walked over to your closet, opening it and presenting all your clothes. “and you have lots of jeans. so, go ahead and get changed into whatever. if you want to shower then go ahead, the bathroom is to the right.”

you nodded, “thank you. i’ll be done in a few minutes.”

“no problem. take your time,” he smiled.

you returned the expression, watching him as he left the room, shutting the door behind him.

you went to your closet, running your hands over your clothes. you had lots of grey, purple, and blue shirts. you saw lots of ripped jeans, some were their regular blue and others were white or black. you chose a light purple, short- sleeved shirt and a pair of dark-wash jeans. you found a pair of black panties and a black bra to match.

you went into the bathroom, turning the shower on and undressing. you put your dirty clothes in a near pile on the floor as you didn’t know where the hamper was. you set your clean clothes onto the bathroom sink, jumping into the shower.

the hot water felt so good, it was hard to get out, but you didn’t want to keep stefan waiting too long. you dried off quickly, looking at yourself in the mirror after you got dressed. you didn’t realize, but you were very dirty and tired-looking before showering. you looked better now. more awake, clean, and pretty.

you didn’t bother putting on makeup, not even knowing where you kept it. you went downstairs, finding stefan in the living room reading a book.

“i am ready,” you announced.

stefan looked up, jaw dropping as he looked over you.

“you look gorgeous,” he spoke.

you smiled shyly, lowering your head in bashfulness. “thank you. it’s not much, just a comfortable outfit.”

“doesn’t matter. you look amazing,” he shrugged.

“thank you, again.”

“of course,” he smiled. “let’s go ahead and go, yeah?”

you nodded, slipping on your shoes as you followed him out to the garage. you got into stefan’s car, driving back to town square.

“a lot of places have been built or torn down. i’m going to take you to the places we used to go to in this century, then go to the places from long ago that have been torn down,” he explained.

“sounds good,” you nodded.

he parked next to the strip mall, getting out and opening the door for you.

“are men still as chivalrous as you?” you jumped out of the car.

“no, not at all, but i like to be known as a gentleman. it sets a good first impression,” he answered.

“that’s sad,” you frowned. “it is. honestly, most guys nowadays are jerks and are selfish. no one teaches kindness anymore,” he sighed.

“well, i’m thankful i chose a man who still cares about those things. it really reflects on what kind of man you are.”

“i agree,” stefan nodded.

you two walked onto the side walk, stefan lacing your fingers together and guiding you into a store.

“this is your favorite store in the whole

town square. you always rave about the good deals and i’ve bought you lots of jewelry here,” he explained.

you hummed in reply, looking over the store. “it’s quaint. i see how it would appeal to me.”

“yeah, this store is the most popular one here, i’m pretty sure.”

“the owner must be rich, then.”

“probably is,” stefan nodded.

he then led you out of the store, explaining all the other stores and restaurants in the town square before stopping and showing you a specific place you liked.

“this is the grill, the most popular restaurant here. you and caroline, who you have yet to meet, love to sing karaoke here. you and bonnie and elena, who again, you have yet to meet, play pool here and get tipsy on the weekend.”

“what is karaoke and pool?” you questioned.

“karaoke is when you pick a song you like, and you sing it with a friend, or sometimes yourself. a lot of bars have karaoke, and some restaurants do, like this one. it’s just a fun activity for drunk people, honestly. and pool

is this game over there. you see those people

shooting the balls with the sticks?” he pointed across the room.

you studied them, seeing as they would curse in disappeared, or jump and clap in happiness.

“yes, it looks fun.”

“it is, and you’re quite good at it. maybe tomorrow you can meet everyone else and i’ll teach you how to play,” he suggested.

“i would like that very much,” you smiled.

“me, too,” he smiled back. “are you hungry? we can take a break from walking and get something to eat.”

“my stomach does ache a little. what kind of food do they have here?”

“burgers, fries, salad. classic american stuff, basically. i can order what you usually do.”

“sure, but i’m afraid to tell you that i have no money,” you sighed.

“it’s not a problem. this is my treat. plus, we have a joint bank account so, it doesn’t really matter who pays.””

“wow, that’s nice.”

“it definitely is.”

stefan then led you to a small booth, ordering immediately once the waiter came.

“tell me more about yourself,” you prompted.

stefan stared at you, not expecting you to want to know about him. it wasn’t completely surprising, but you just seemed a lot more interested in the town than him. he was happy that you asked, though. it reassured him that you two had a chance, even if you two had to rebuilt your relationship.

“okay, well, my birthday is november 1st, 1846. my favorite color is blue, my favorite type of alcohol is bourbon, but i do like a glass of whiskey every once in a while. one of my best friends was lexi branson. she was also your friend, too, but damon killed her for absolutely no reason.”

“oh, my - i am so sorry, stefan,” you gasped. “oh, it’s alright. damon has uh, since proved himself to be better… unfortunately,” stefan sighed.

you put your hand on his, looking him in the eyes.

“it’s not alright, stefan. i know you say damon is a lot better than people say, and that he has proven himself better, but that doesn’t justify what he did. i’m so sorry you lost lexi. i understand what it is it like to lose someone so close to you. i’m sure you remember, but i lost christopher only a few years after we became vampires. i don’t remember all of it, but i do remember terrorizing a whole village because of the anger and depression i felt. i’m sure lexi was an amazing young woman. one day, i would love it if you told me more about her.”

stefan smiled at you gratefully, eyes prickling with tears. “thank you, y/n. it means a lot to me. and yes, i’d love to tell you about her.”

“fantastic.” you squeezed his hand for support, the gesture warming his chest. “anyways, go on,” you said, keeping your hand on his.

“alright. well, i love i love lucy, which is a ‘50s sitcom that, funnily enough, you hated,” he chuckled.

“what is a sitcom and why did i hate it?” your brows knitted together in confusion.

“well, a sitcom is a comedy tv show. and a tv show is content that is broadcasted onto something that is called a television, which was the big black screen in the living room of our house. sitcom is a type of tv show. there are sitcoms, dramas, romance, horror, and lots of others. a lot of these genres bleed together, much like books. and as for why you hated the show, you just thought it was annoying because i would watch it all the time.”

“well, i do have a short temperament, so that explains it, i suppose. that tv show thing is a little confusing. can you show me how it works when we get home?”

“yes, of course. i can show you your favorite tv shows and movies,” he nodded eagerly.

“lovely,” you smiled at his enthusiasm. “so, what else do you like?”

“well, i am a fan of scorcese, who is a famous tv director. he directed taxi driver, which is a film i am a fan of. i love to cook, and i’m quite good at it, if i do say so myself. um, let’s see… what else is there…” he trailed off, looking at the table as he thought. “i am a bit or a hoarder, as you probably could see in our room. i enjoy any and all types of music, i have a rose tattoo on my right shoulder, and i am a scorpio, if that means anything to do.”

he looked back up at you, the tips of his ears turning pink as he realized you were staring and smiling at him the whole time.

“why’re you looking at me like that?” he asked.

“it’s just nice hearing all these things about you. i can piece together who you are, who the man i am married to is. it’s obvious you don’t open up to people a lot, and i appreciate you doing that with me,” you explained.

“oh, well, it’s no problem. you’ll remember all these things, anyways. but this is just surface level stuff, nothing special.”

“i think it is special and important. now that i know you a little better, i’m able to talk to you more and be more comfortable.”

“mm, that’s true,” he nodded.

you gave him a small smile, your food then arriving.

“wow, this is a lot,” you chuckled, looking at the cheeseburger and fries.

“it’s really good, too,” stefan said.

“how do i eat this?” you asked. “pick it up in your hands and take a bite, like this.” stefan took a bite of his burger and fries.

you followed in suit, groaning in pleasure.

“my, they never had this food at home. this is delicious.”

“i know, right? so glad america stopped the wine and beef soup at dinner.”

you giggled, nodding in agreement. you two ate in silence, stefan paying before you two left.

“do you want to continue going around town, or are you tired?” stefan asked.

“i want to continue,” you stated.

“alright. time to go to all the torn down places now,” he sighed, walking you back to his car.

you two drove a little ways away from town square, finding yourselves at the cemetery.

“are anna, christoper, and my mother buried here?” you asked.

“yes, they are. do you want to see their graves?” stefan asked.

you sat in the car for a few moments, holding your seatbelt in thought. you shook your head as an answer.

“no, i would hate to put a damper on this lovely evening.”

“oh, well, it’s okay. you always manage to make things bright and happy, even when we’re visiting the cemetery, but if you really don’t want to, then i’ll take you to the salvatore estate, and where your house was located.”

“mm, i am sure. we can visit some other time,” you smiled.

he returned the expression. “alright.” he got out, going to open the door for you, but you had already jumped out.

“sorry, i um, wanted to see how the door works,” you admitted sheepishly.

stefan grinned, finding your curiosity adorable. “no worries. ready to go?”

“indeed i am,” you nodded.

you took the initiative and laced your fingers with his. stefan glanced at you, his chest swelling with joy. it was almost like old times.

“so, where is the salvatore estate?” you asked.

“it’s just a mile into the woods. there’s only a singular pillar there because it got torn down, but the pillar marks the spot where the house stood.”

“why did it get torn down? it was such a beautiful home. surely someone from these days would want to live in it,” you frowned.

“you’d think that, but i guess folks these days want something more modern. but, wait, do you remember my house?” hope filled his eyes, carrying all the way through his voice.

“i think i do. it seems… familiar in my mind. i remember the front of the house, the beautiful entrance and the pretty rose bushes, the steps that led up to the door. i remember a room… it was of medium size. there was a big bed in the middle, a deep-sea blue carpet under it. there was a bug mirror across from the bed, a painting or two hung up on the walls. there was a small desk in the corner next to the closet. the room is very empty, but it brings back feelings of warmth and calmness.”

“yeah, that was my room. you spent most of your summer’s in there with me.”

“oh,” your eyes lit up. “you said that we didn’t officially get together until after we were vampires, but i remember being in the bed in lots of white, button-up shirts. did we-?” you looked to him, eyes wide and hoping he would say yes.

his cheeks were tainted pink as he nodded. “yes, we had lots of fun nights, but not all of them consisted of sex.”

“i see,” you nodded, a little smile on your face. “what else did we do besides sleep together, then?”

“well, most times we just laid there in each other’s arms. sometimes i would read to you and you would fall asleep in my arms. other times we danced, sang, talked about the future together. and let me tell you, we definitely did not imagine an eternity together, but i’m really glad it turned out that way. despite all the pain we suffered.”

your chest warmed as you imagine you two in the 1800s, doing more and being more than just friends with intimate relations.

“does damon know of this?” you questioned.

“he does, but no one else doesn’t. to make things easier, we just told everyone that we started dating after we became vampires, and that we got married in 1963, which we did.”

“and how was the wedding?” you asked.

“the best night of my life,” he grinned. “we have lots of pictures of that night in the living room and our room, which i will show you when we get back.”

“i can’t wait,” you smiled giddily.

you squeezed stefan’s hand, the gesture making both of your body’s shiver.

“here it is,” he said, taking you closer to the singular pillar.

you let go of his hand slowly, walking around the property. you closed your eyes, feeling the cool breeze fan your face. you stood in the middle, right where the living room be. lots of memories then flooded back to you, making you snap your eyes open.

“your father didn’t like us together,” you stated.

stefan furrowed his brows. “yes, how-how do you know that?”

you didn’t answer him, continuing to reminisce.

“i was meant to wed damon, yet, i fell in love with you. your mother would let us play together, knowing that the fate your father decided wasn’t going to happen. she accepted us. she actually liked us better together than damon and i. she thought damon was too wild, too untamed to settle down so young. he was like her, in that way. but you, once you saw me at our first ball at age 14, you knew i was the one. i remember you telling me this one night on my sixteenth birthday. you had taken me up to your room, sneaking up extra cake for me, and we laid together on your bed. that was both of our first time that night - it was amazing. you told me before we went to bed about your growing feelings for me. that night we both said ‘i love you’ for the first time.”

stefan stared at you, mouth agape and tears welling in his eyes.

“you-you really remember that?”

“i do,” you smiled slowly at him. “i remember the marks you left on my skin, the joy i felt as you held my hand, the way i cried when you told me that you loved me. i-i’m afraid that this is all i remember, but -“

“no, no, it’s enough. it’s more than enough,” he sniffled, coming closer to you. he slipped his hand into yours, his other hand wrapping around your waist.

you smiled, putting your free hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb up and down on his cheekbones. you looked into his eyes, studying his face as your hand went up and ran itself through his hair. you brought your hand back down to cup his cheek, your fingers dancing along his jawline.

“i also remember skipping school, playing football in the backyard, me wearing your shirt for the first time and it leading to us sleeping together again,” you giggled.

“how do you remember all of this?” he asked.

“the travelers must’ve just took all the important information about us, which we can deal with later. i want to enjoy this moment now,” you breathed out.

“thank god that they took that important stuff. it’s not that important once you think about it,” he nodded.

“i agree. i bet damon wouldn’t agree about that, though,” you joked.

“well, damon has never been madly in love until the last couple of years. but, me? i’m been in love with you forever.”

your lips spread widely and you looked deeply into his eyes, feeling yourself falling for him again.

“i love you,” you exhaled. stefan grinned, “i love you more.”

“nu-uh,” you shook your head. “mmhm,” he smirked.

you moved in closer, your nose bumping his softly. your eyes flickered down from his eyes to his lips multiple times before closing the gap. your lips met his in slow motion, immediately moving with his. his lips were soft and kissed you well, like he had done this a million times before, and couldn’t wait to do it again. he held you close against him, breathing in deeply at the taste of your lips. he felt at peace once again, whole and complete. and as for you, you felt alive.

every atom in your body was humming in pleasure. the feeling of his hands in your body, fitting right in with your curves, were like finally finishing a puzzle. it gave you butterflies, the way he tasted and smelled. the way he kissed you was delicious. it was gentle, but passionate. his lips worked against yours quickly, his tongue sliding against yours, eliciting a small moan from your throat. your teeth bumped each other gently, causing the kiss to then become fast, needy, hot.

you pulled away before anything else could commence, your chest heaving up and down. a line of spit broke off from your lips, breaking off as the breeze ran through it.

“remember anything else now?” stefan breathed out.

“just how much i’ve missed you,” you stated.

“i’ve missed you, too, baby. wanna go and see where old home was now?”

“yes, i’d love that,” you nodded. “great. come and follow me, then we can go home and i’ll make you your favorite meal, okay?” he suggested.

“that sounds amazing.”

“i’m so glad to have you back, y/n,” he squeezed your hand.

“i’m glad to be back.”

————

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[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Sneak Peak)

 (Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader) 

Summary: Someone always has to leave first; They just didn’t expect Yoongi to come back with a new omega (who's clearly been through some shit). 

Pairing: Beta! Yoongi, Omega! Reader, Omega! Jungkook, Omega! Seokjin, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Hoseok, Alpha! Taehyung, Alpha! Jimin,

Tags: Polyamory, groupsex, sexual and non-sexual Dom/sub undertones, heat sex, praise kink, brief humiliation, Spanking, knotting, breeding kink, emotional abuse, physical abuse, forced mating marks, graphic murder scenes, negative self-talk, self-esteem issues, non-verbal characters, abandonment, PTSD, hurt/comfort, gluttonous fluff, agoraphobia, implied/referenced self-harm, suicidal thoughts and brief desperate suicide attempt, unreliable narrators. Gender dysphoria, transgender characters, internalized homophobia, internalized transphobia, internalized misogyny, unintended outings, epilepsy, 

W/c: 100k+ (87k completed so far)

A/n: long time no see~ this is what I’ve been working on for the last few months! I hope everyone will like it. Updates will be once a week on fridays or saturdays at 5pm EST. This will also be cross posted on Archive of our own. 

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“You shouldn’t be out here- you’ll get cold.” 

Your hands play on the bannister. In the fountain, something trickles though it’s not full. It’s too early in spring and the flowers in the garden are reluctant to burst through the ground for fear of frost. Yoongi wonders how you’re not shivering. “It’s not the 1800’s Yoongi- people don’t die just from being cold”  your revealing dress is probably something that your husband chose for you. it makes Yoongi’s blood boil. 

You look a little bit better tonight, though Yoongi can't tell if the color in your face is actually real or from the thick layer of makeup that hides the bruises. The haze in your eyes, like you’re dissociating from everything, isn’t there anymore. Tonight, You’ve got a clarity that Yoongi savors. The scar is healing well, pink and hardly notable under the line of your jaw. Yoongi wouldn’t know it was there if he wasn’t looking for it.  

Yoongi searches your face. “You misunderstand me, I said that I don’t want you to be cold, but maybe if you caught a cold- I could help you get better.”

He knows his words don’t make sense- but still you recognize what he wants to say but can’t. I could love you, I could make it better, I could care for you and only treat you with the gentleness you deserve. But Yoongi doesn’t say any of that- no- he only leans forward and offers his hands. “One dance? Before I take you home?”

Yoongi will drive you away from here- will take you and go to some gritty fast food place and get you full of however many calories your husband has made you skip. And he’ll spend the whole drive thinking about leaning across the console to kiss you. He could do it- quick. You’re not wearing lipstick and no one would know. Maybe he can’t help you yet- so starved of love that you look like a ghost. But tonight, he can surely make sure your stomach and your heart is full with the careful care that Yoongi knows he’s good at giving.

You keep Yoongi at an arm's length as he leads you in the waltz, day dreaming of a hypothetical illness, some sickness that can be fixed by a few days rest and some warm soup that Yoongi could provide. The two of you pulled together in a bed however big or small- you wouldn’t mind as long as you got to be this close. His hand on your forehead crooning, “you’ve got a fever lovely.” 

It’s a beautiful day dream, but not better than reality as he pulls you in tighter against him in your skimpy gown. It’s only to keep you warm- he justifies. And you melt into his hold. His hands are wide, warm, and better than any jacket as they cup your sides and the small of your back. You stumble on the uneven cobblestones of the garden and Yoongi heaves you up so that you’re balanced on his toes.

He spins you, going faster in the practices steps, making you giggle- a sound that he’s never heard from you and wants to hear again and again. You slow to a more gentle pace, Swaying softly from side to side. You rest your whole body against him and Yoongi holds you up.

For the first time he can smell your real scent, you smell sweet and bready, like a freshly baked cake, something warm inside on a day that the rain pours outside. You smell like cozy lazy Sundays and cupcakes. Yoongi wants to bury his face in your neck but won’t without asking.

He wonders if you like his scent just as much as he likes yours.  

Before he can ask, you pipe up. “You just had to take all the good didn’t you?” its not said bitterly, but musing. Out of two brothers, why would one have so much more softness than the other? One gentle and kind while the other is bloodthirsty and violently selfish. Why did you have to choose wrong?

“What would it be like Yoongi? If you took me away from here what would it be like?” you’re crying, barely daring to utter the words. The two of you both know from experience that tempting fate never ends well but you’ve never wanted anything so badly. 

Yoongi struggles to hold onto your happy scent. You know how much wanting something you can’t have can hurt you. Reaching out like you’re prepared to grasp the future he’ll paint for you, holding onto the lapels of his coat as you cry. Yoongi just runs his hands up and down your back to comfort you through the longing. 

Like this garden aches for rain, Yoongi aches to give, anything and everything, his heart on a platter if that’s what you wanted.

“We’d get takeout every few nights and play rock paper scissors to decide who gets to be the little spoon, we’d have a rule of no yelling in the house, I’d take you out to the ocean and make you s’mores whenever you wanted. You could steal my clothes and I’d never ever say a word about It.” 

You laugh at that- somehow, Yoongi just knows that’s something you’d do. He’s known enough omegas, he knows that courting one means you voluntarily give up half of your sweatshirt collection. He keeps speaking softer, like to whisper his wishes out loud is like trying to hold onto a shooting star.  

“And-” Yoongi takes a deep breath, tilting his face forward so that your foreheads are aligned. So close. This is the closest Yoongi has ever let himself get to you. “-I’d love you until we’d both had our last breath. I’d leave you sticky notes on the refrigerator telling you that I love you every time I had to leave. I’d never- ever let you be cold. And I’d show you my pack”

Yoongi can feel you swallow thickly at his promises- and he hopes- hopes more than anything else that they’re not empty ones. You always forget that he has someone else- that there are several someone-else’s who have Yoongi’s attention the way you do. He is the moon and you’re just something he orbits around. There are other celestial objects caught in his orbit. “What are they like? What’s it like to have a pack?” 

Yoongi tries not to let himself get misty eyed, “it’s everything, it’s love and having everyone there all around you but it’s also so much fun, you’re never alone- you always have someone to be around and it’s not even- it doesn’t even feel tiring. Even when you want to sleep you’d rather stay up with them.” Yoongi slides his finger underneath one of the straps of your dress, playing with it. “Telling you what they’re like- well- that would take me hours” 

Your laugh is pretty, and it slips through yoongi’s fingers like smoke “That sounds beautiful.” Yoongi holds you like you might be a piece of that- a piece of his pack that he hadn’t known he’d been missing. That's probably why your next words hit him so hard. 

“I wish I could have seen it. Get back to them safe alright? Do me a favor and love them like you would have loved me.”

*Part 1 Coming Friday April 9th @ 5pm EST* 

[whosjunglejim4322]

Umbra | J. Seo (m)

》 Genre: vampire au! Smut, fluff, minor angst and mentions of violence, This story also features Yuta, Taeyong, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Doyoung and Mark as his coven members

》 Warnings: spitting, dry humping, mentions of blood obvi, mentions of feeding, strong boy trying not to fuck you into oblivion, his eyes get black he's when he's hungry/horny, disgusting amount of fluff, omg sorta strength kink? Johnny is very in love w you and very protective cause some of his brothers are out of pocket, Jungwoo wants to b ur bestie lowkey, Yuta is a lil shit

Chapter 2 

There are many things that Johnny loves about you. He could spend all his time showering you with professions of his adoration, and he'd never grow tired of it. Though, his concept of time and yours are slightly different.

He's patient, excessively so sometimes, in your humble opinion. But, he also never expected in his three hundred and forty five years of existence, to find someone who manages to warm his cold and stagnant heart in the way you have.

Now, anytime away from you is a bit bothersome.

It's just, he never knew humans like you existed. In his world, there are either those who lust after his kind and the benefits in which their heightened senses and skills provide, or those who see him as a complete moral abomination.

Even now, in a society that has to live in conjunction with vampires, there are still so many people who fear him. Well, they fear what they think he is. A creature of the night, a demon, something that is only greedy for strife and nothing more.

You were the first person who genuinely throttled him, curious and wide eyed, completely fascinated by him. And not in a way that made him feel like he was under a microscope, but in a way that made him feel as though he was something...to be admired.

Your heartbeat, even after a year, still flutters like the wings of dragonfly whenever he displays his strength; swinging you up into his arms like you're made of feathers and all things delicate.

At first, he thought you were scared, weary, perhaps, about his abnormalities. He couldn't find any other explanation for the way you seemed to shrink in his presence whenever he'd dip his head below your chin to grace your throat with his lips, cooling your hot skin.

It didn't make sense. Not until he realized there is a direct correlation to your change and scent, and these moments in which he can be himself around you.

You like it. You like that he's different, a complete opposite to what you'd find in the common world. If he thought he could be any more enamored, anymore breathless than he was before (no pun intended) he was wrong.

Even now, with you lying with your back against his hard chest, playing with his slim fingers, your voice is nothing but earnest. Curious, in your own little world that consists of just you and him.

He thinks, no he knows, that if he had a pulse it would be racing every time he's around you. Every time you ask him a question that would normally repulse anyone else, even when you place his cool palm against your blazing cheek, giddy about the difference in temperature. He can tell that you just want to know more about him, about how he exists in the world. He simply can't resist indulging you.

"So...everyone doesn't taste the same? I always just assumed that blood is, well, blood." He smiles to himself as you trace shapes into his palm, before flipping his hand over and grazing your fingertips over his protruding knuckles.

The feeling of your skin against his is so pleasant he almost gets distracted.

"Well, it depends, really," his free hand strokes up and down your arms, savoring the softness. "sometimes the difference is slight, like someone who's A or B negative, but other times it can be quite stark. It's about chemistry really."

He can already see your expression in his head, furrowed brows, lips pursed in a manner too cute for your own good. He absentmindedly pushes you further against his chest, reclining slightly against the pillows as to make it more comfortable for you. You hum in satisfaction.

"Chemistry? Like how you feel about the person?" He can't quite pinpoint what is laced within the lilt of your voice, he answers nonetheless, chuckling warmly.

The sound is like pure velvet, causing your skin to tingle. You shiver, and he pulls your blanket over you, worried his lack of body heat may be disturbing your comfort. He doesn't realize how wrong he is.

"It's more like, how that person has lived. Their natural...how do I say...essence? Yes, their essence sometimes can determine how desirable some ones blood is to us."

He doesn't miss the way your heartbeat falters in rythm. He grins, as you take both of his hands in yours and intertwine your fingers. He twists his wrist and brings your knuckles up to his lips, kissing your skin.

You shift underneath the covers, suddenly thankful for his cool temperature. You know that most of the vampires that exist in society use blood bags from the banks provided, but you still wonder...

"Am I...am I desirable to you? Like, my blood, or whatever." You wish you could say you usually aren't so bad at speaking when you're around him, but that would be a blatant lie.

It's the most endearing thing he's ever witnessed.

His hands are gone from yours and elsewhere in the blink of an eye, one strong arm locked around your torso as his free hand reaches down to cup your chin. He turns and lifts your head towards him, gently, and the look in his eyes has your breath stalling momentarily.

"Of course you are, silly," he says it as if it's the most obvious thing ever, leaning down to peck your nose. Butterflies swarm violently in your belly. "I desire you in every way there is to desire someone, it makes me want to keep you all to myself. No one else should be allowed to even think about you, or your blood, in that way."

He looks lost in thought for a second, pupils almost darkening the whole of his irises, before he seemingly brings himself out of his daze. You turn in his hold, adjusting your position so that you're practically lying on top of him, chests touching and your legs cradled between his hips. He holds you effortlessly in his arms.

"Well it wouldn't matter anyways, cause I'm all yours." His pearly teeth show from behind the pillowy surface of his lips, as he leans in to kiss you in a manner that has you reaching out to wrap your hand around the nape of his neck.

"Mhm, all mine." He murmurs, nose nudging against yours as he shifts back and forth from your top lip, and then your bottom, tongue exploring the surface of each.

Kissing you, is another experience entirely for him. He wonders if it feels for you as it does for him, like pure intoxication. It brings back memories, memories he didn't think could still be reachable in the depths of his mind.

A time where he was warm, where life thrummed through his veins like the rushing current of a river. You are springtime on his tongue, the rays of sunlight that once heated his skin, the smell of flora in the air that mingles with the fleeting breeze.

He almost whines when you depart from his mouth, yearning already heavy in the pit of his stomach.

You look almost nervous, suddenly finicking with the front of his shirt as you sit back on his lap. He can hear the acceleration of your heartbeat, can smell the anxiety that is almost as heady as your desire.

He reaches out to cup your cheek, something he often does as a comforting gesture. You smile softly, meeting his curious, tepid gaze.

"So...I have a question," your voice shakes and you huff. "I mean, I was just wondering," he senses your struggle, wrapping his arms around you and sitting up so that your chests are nearly touching again, his palms splayed against your lower back.

"You can ask me anything, sweetheart. You know that." His voice, as sweet as honey, calms your racing pulse for a moment. Until you actually say the words out loud, wincing as if preparing for a scolding.

"Well I know you have a family, of sorts, from what you've told me. And I know you've always been really...hesitant to tell me more about them? I mean I've never been over, to your home or met them,"

Understanding washes over him, hands rubbing your back soothingly as the glint in his irises provokes an odd sensation within your belly. Like he knew this conversation would have to be had one day.

He lets you finish speaking, though your voice has even more of a tremor than before, now.

"Sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable, I understand if you don't want me over there."

Urgency calcifies in his chest, the sad lilt to your soft voice making him feel ill. The way you say it is as if you think he doesn't want you in his space, like he's keeping you away from there because of something other than rational reasoning, doesn't sit right with him.

He cups your jaw, firmly but gently.

"I want you with me as much as possible, never think that I don't want you. That is not at all why I haven't brought you over there," You have no choice but to believe him, when he's looking at you with such a passionate gaze far heavier than what you're used to in a normal setting, his words concise.

"I am...well I'm old, and so are they. I've spent a long time being alienated, far before we were even accepted in the new world. We've settled here since before you were born, so you won't remember what it was like when people were forced to live along side us."

You hate hearing the unusual grain of what seems to be dejection in his tone, though you listen fervently anyways, his hands still comforting you despite the fact that his eyes are the ones cast down. You want to kiss the furrow between his dark brows.

"I've accepted who I am, furthermore I've accepted who I want to be. I realized that, it would do me no good to be a monster if people were willing, even if begrudgingly, to accept our existence. But my brothers,"

Your stomach sinks at the way he says it, knowing without a doubt that this is the answer to your original question, that his stance had to be explained before he told you something like this.

"they don't feel the same way as me, so they are stuck in their ways beyond coercion. They live very different lives, they are what our kind refer to as nightcrawlers, it's sardonic inside joke for those of us that would rather not conform to the new age of mutual concurrency."

"They are still a bit resentful for the fact that they can't exactly give in to their natural instincts. They don't see the humans acceptance as welcoming, they see it as a mockery. Do you see where I'm coming from?"

You look a bit out of it, like maybe you're frightened and he's suddenly worried he's gone overboard, that he's scared you in a way that can't be fixed. His eyes are suddenly frantic.

But then you speak, and you don't sound vexed, nor unsettled. Your question is simple, your thighs tightening around his waist as if to draw yourself closer to his comfort, arms looping around his shoulders.

"Do they all feel that way?"

He smiles, muscles untensing as you play with his hair in the way you usually do. Your eyes never leave his, and he wonders how he got so lucky.

"The youngest, well the youngest in our years, they're a bit less malicious about it. They don't cross anyone unless someone crosses them, but they can be excessively territorial because of their youth."

The tension, despite talking about a topic so heavy, is light again. You feel a bit silly now, understanding why he might not want you in close proximity with his coven.

But, still, knowing that there are people, for lack of better term, that have been in his life unimaginably long; a completely different, solidified version of a family, it makes you more nosey than usual. Could they really be that different from him?

"And...you're sure that if I were to meet them, it would end badly?" His eyebrow twitches in an inquisitive manner, surprise coloring his sharp features.

"I- well I thought you were just curious, I didn't think you'd actually want to meet them. Especially after all of that,"

It's as if he's speaking to himself out loud, his pink tongue flicking out to wet his lips. You resist the urge to kiss him so suddenly.

"but I don't suppose so. It's already established that you're mine. If there's one rule we follow, it's that. They know how I feel about you, despite our differences."

The sturdiness to his voice when he speaks of you being his, has your belly filling with heat at an irrational rate, and you suddenly remember how it felt to see him before you actually got to know him.

He's incredibly intimidating on the surface, firm and stoic. You can't see how anyone would want to anger him.

"So then I'd be safe, meeting them. And I'd get to see if you guys really have furniture."

Despite not needing to, he swallows. It's hard impossible to say no to you, when you look at him like that and sound so genuinely interested at a prospect that would make any other person run for the hills, even cracking jokes.

You're soft, and too innocent for your own good. He should say no, but to risk seeing a pout form on your soft lips, or having to hear the disappointment in your voice, it's unbearable.

"You really want to meet them, don't you?" He can't fight his smile when your face lights up like that.

"Well, I think it's important. They're your family, one way or another." You're gentle when you speak, honest.

"You're safe with me, you have to know that. But they're...not used to being around humans that aren't just accessories. The last thing I want is for one of them to say something that makes you uncomfortable."

It's evident in the low timbre of his tone that he's serious, and any smart person might listen. But as he said, and as you believe wholeheartedly, you're safe with him. Safer than you'd ever be.

And, as wrong as it may be, you want to see what other vampires are like. You're really only used to Johnny, the exception, where as most modern vampires only come out when absolutely necessary. Meeting him, and falling in love with him, has given you a brand new sight towards the world. Is it that insane to want to meet his brothers that have been so close to him for so long?

"I'll be with you, so it won't matter. I'll bet they're not even that scary, no ones scarier than you."

Your triumphant, playful smile has him grinning from ear to ear, leaning down to capture your lips between his own. Even though you're wrong about them, he's weak. Too weak.

"Yeah? Afraid I'll eat you for breakfast?" His breath is suddenly against your earlobe and you shudder pleasantly, grasping onto his shoulders before regaining some sort of composure.

"I'm definitely dinner, breakfast is really overrated. Unless it's breakfast for dinner, that's way better for some reason?"

He's kissing you again, despite the fact that he's smiling too hard for his own good, swiftly flipping you over so that you're caged underneath his body. His weight is barely perceptible even with your chests touching, forearms holding himself up.

"You'll be the death of me, you know that?" He has a hard time speaking without strain due to the way his throat has suddenly tightened with need, your legs wrapping around his trim torso and pushing his hips further against yours.

"Not possible, unless I've suddenly charmed your heart into beating again." You tease, though his eyebrows remain furrowed in concentration as he kisses you between words, dangerously sensual. You smell too divine.

"Very possible, actually. If you only knew how you make me feel."

Your belly lurches at the desperation that flows from him, his aura downright fever inducing. Without thinking, your crotch nudges his, bucking with the slightest of movements. But it's enough, enough to have his jaw clenching and a habitual breath of restraint leaving his nose.

Five fingers grasp your chin, so he can kiss you, hard. His hips begin to roll as his teeth nibble your bottom lip, the fabric of his jeans an arousing juxtaposition to your soft lounge shorts, your lack of underwear making it all the more satisfying.

He's hard, too. Knowing his dick is just underneath, hard for you, it'll never not give you whiplash. It gets you drunk, knowing your effect on him is as overwhelming as his on you. You're whimpering against his tongue, rubbing yourself on his bulge.

"Mmm, fuck." He growls, capturing your wrists in his palms before your next breath, raising them above your head and making sure they're comfortable against the pillows.

He's inches away from your face now, and his expression alone is enough to have your walls pulsing around nothing, desire seeping into your chest and hardening your nipples, goosebumps forming across your skin.

He looks at you like he's hungry, nostrils flaring avariciously. He tries so very hard to fight the darkness that fills his sclera like ink, knowing how very monstrous and unlike himself it makes him appear.

But he hears the way it makes your heart race. He can practically taste the thrill that seeps from your pores, the unbridled arousal that drips from your cunt like syrup. Your neck cranes upwards to try and reach his lips, and he smirks before meeting you halfway.

"Do you want me to keep rubbing your pussy like this," he looks down between your bodies and purposely rolls his hips in an accentuated fashion. "or do you want my dick?"

His voice is brusque, but caring and accommodating as it always is, his plump lips quivering slightly from the way his mouth waters.

"Can I have your dick, please?" You return, his mouth quirking up into a sideways grin.

"Such good manners," he kisses you again, sloppily, the sounds lewd and causing you to shiver against his unwavering body. "how could I ever deny you?"

You blink, and cool air is breezing against your wet slit, the nakedness sending a wave of tingles through your nerve endings. Before you can look down, you feel his cock against your clit, smooth and rounded tip gathering wetness from your hole before circling it over your clit.

He uses one hand to keep your legs parted for his viewing, fingers softly gripping your flesh as he sits back on his haunches. You feel impatience crawling up your throat, toes already curling as your bud throbs and your walls ache.

He's so pretty, he is raven hair against olive skin, an onyx sky against shimmering stars. Your hands reach out for his hips, delicate but fierce in their strength. He rubs his shaft against your folds, before prodding at your entrance.

He always watches your expression when he first slides in, the way your mouth falls open and you are suddenly this beautiful, agonizingly worked up thing. He bites down on his bottom lip as his eyes flicker from your pussy, lovlier than a flower and welcoming him with a squeeze, to your face.

Your eyes are bleary as they stare back up at him, your breathing already erratic. His lip curls with the need to hiss, to ravage you. But he takes it slow, he loves watching you fall apart too much. And you're so wet around him, moaning his name like it's the only word you know.

"Johnnyyyy, oh - umph." He rocks into, gracefully and with a deliberate curl. You claw at the front of his tee shirt, pulling him down to your face.

He eagerly obliges, meeting your lips with a soft smack, the angle only pushing him deeper within your body. His pace has increased, the front of his thighs colliding with the back of yours. His mouth somehow remains steady, as if he's not fucking you like he is.

He's parting from you sooner than you'd like, but you know he likes to fuck you like this, able to see all of you and savor it. It's still the most incredible thing he'll ever witness or experience, he's sure of it.

He can't believe a creature like him could be so lucky, here with his manhood buried to the hilt inside of someone so breathtaking, so innately divine. Your essence is thick and wet, coating his shaft each time he pulls out.

"Such a pretty pussy, so fuckin' pretty baby." His voice is gruff, nose twitching and eyes black. You wrap your fingers around his strong, sturdy forearms as his hands grip the softness of your waist. His lips purse and a string of spit dribbles down your clit.

"Ungh, oh my- ohhhhh Johnny please please." You're not sure what your begging for, and it doesn't matter. Because he'll give you whatever it is you need before you know you need it, already hooking your legs over his broad shoulders, gripping your jaw and pushing it up so that he can mouth at your sensitive neck.

"Mmm, I got you baby, I'm right here," he takes your earlobe in his mouth before marking your throat, licking and sucking. "I can already feel your belly tensing sweetheart, gonna make a mess for me?"

All you can do is nod, eyes squeezed shut and hands exploring his firm abdomen while he pushes himself all the way into you; rocking his hips back and forth to make sure the tip of his cock is rubbing that sweet spot inside of you. Your clit is being stimulated in the process, and you know you're not going to last long.

He knows it too, and his thumb is suddenly on your swelling bud, rubbing you in circles faster than you can comprehend, but with just enough pressure to have your nails digging into his back with fervor. Having unbreakable skin must be a plus, in his case.

You're tensing more now, twitching even. Your energy is buzzing around him, electric. Your heart pounds like a drum, rattling against your ribcage and causing blood to thrum viciously throughout your veins. His thrusts become a bit more frantic, his senses completely overcome with you.

He's so lost in his own pleasure he doesn't even hear you cum. He feels you go limp underneath him, back arching off the bed and your walls spasming around his cock.

He realizes now that you're trying to shove your face in the pillows, a silent sob ripping through your body. He's pulling you to him, and you're suddenly in his lap, as he comforts you with a soothing coo.

When you move your face from the crook of his neck and he's met with your teary eyes and damp skin, he's thrown off the edge.

Your forehead is against his as he bites back a snarl of sorts, pumping into you from below with as much restraint as he can muster as to not overwhelm you since you've just cum as well.

He has to move his hands away from you for a quick second, opting for the bed sheets instead while you cling onto him and kiss his cheeks, his jaw, his neck. He feels selfish, but he also doesn't want to crush your hip bones in such a state.

Your breathing is still uneven, even after several minutes and once he's sure that he's in his right frame of mind, his arms are around you again.

Your body is sweetly ravaged by his mouth, lips leaving a wet trail over too much skin in such a short amount of time. You're still sensitive, wincing as his enthusiasm causes you to shift on his lap.

"Oh." He uses one arm to wrap around your middle, slowly pulling you off of his dick and lying you down against the comforter.

You whine at the loss of contact as he disappears, returning in a blur with a warm, damp cloth. He's in between your legs, wiping away your shared mess and muttering soft sorrys when he's just a smidge too rough. You're still embarrassed by his need to take care of you like this, bashfully looking away.

You don't realize he's gone and returned until the covers are being thrown over your body, his arms securing you to his solid chest and his lips against your ear.

"You need sleep, don't argue." He kisses the back of your head and you smile to yourself, snuggling further against his figure. You feel like you're being warmed from the inside out, despite how cool his skin is against yours.

"M'not gonna argue, you made me tired," The thump of your pulse and the shy lilt to your voice satisfies him, and he wishes that he could make love to you all over again.

"When will you take me to go meet the others?" Your speech is already slightly slurred with sleep, a yawn following. He sighs, kissing behind your ear.

"Give me until tomorrow night, I need to discuss a few things. Then we'll go, I promise."

He wishes that this could be a more exciting prospect for him, that in the back of his mind he weren't, for the first time in a long time, genuinely worried about how his brothers might react.

It's got nothing to do with his capability. Without question he will keep you safe, his strength is comparable to the eldest and he'd forge fire if it meant having you whole and in his arms.

But his coven, they're different than what he knows you're expecting. He knows that because of primal, and ancestral rules that they will not lay a hand on you.

If he's honest, it's more so what might come out of their mouths that worries him. He can't have them slip up and say something they're not supposed. It'll kill him if there's even one crease of worry or sadness etched onto your pretty face. He won't allow it.

But if it's important to you, it's important to him. You're here, asleep in his arms, and he's certain that if he had a soul, he would trade it if it meant another lifetime of your existence.

•

Johnny isn't next to you when you wake up, which isn't a particularly uncommon occurrence. It's just that normally he'd let you know beforehand, even shaking you awake sometimes just to mumble a be back soon in your ear, despite the fact that you're half asleep.

You reach over to your bedside table to grab your phone, clicking it on and feeling a bit less tense realizing he's left you a message. You smile.

Sorry I had to leave so early, sweetheart. I'm speaking with my brothers and getting some things taken care of. Don't worry. I love you and I'll see you soon. xx

He must be serious, about the way they behave. It's not that you don't believe him, you'd just rather see the positives, in whatever way you can. It's a little bit startling to think about today, if you're honest. Especially after such an all consuming night, the sun now too bright in your eyes, the scent of Johnny still on your sheets and clothes.

You feel anything but dark and dreary when you think of him. That's not to say he's not quite scary if you don't know him. Broad and towering, gaze low and piercing in a way that'll have you looking away nervously if he were to make eye contact with you.

But you can't imagine him as anything but what he is, beautiful and lively and kind, soft around the cold hard edges.

You stretch as you rise from your bed, joints popping as you pull yourself onto your feet. You wince slightly, realizing between your thighs is still fairly sore, ghosts of his touch lingering on your heated skin.

You and Johnny don't have sex incredibly often, at least not by normal human couple standards. It's pretty obvious why. His ability to control his strength, his desire, his thirst; in that state, as he has explained, it leaves him a little bit frayed.

It's not like you're not satisfied anyways, he's more than generous with his mouth and fingers, and despite the fact that he holds nearly half of his full vigor back when the two of you are intimate, it's still a little bit throttling for you afterwards.

The day is boring without him, quite frankly, but despite whatever you may think about it, you still respect his decision to plan ahead for your visit.

You do get it, it's not that. If anything, you just feel too safe with him. To the point where you sometimes feel invincible in his arms.

It almost makes up for the fact that you don't get to show him off as much as you'd like, as silly as it sounds. His kind can go out in the sun, but it's a bit bothersome after a while from what you've heard. He is almost a cliché in that department, most days either spent with him in doors or at night.

Sometimes, though, you wonder what it would be like if he were human. It wouldn't make a difference, you're sure of that, because he'll always be your Johnny. But the thought does venture into your mind every now and then, because of the way he speaks of his humanhood. As if he's trying not to admit how much he misses it.

You often wonder what he must have looked like when he could blush, with his vibrant smile on show, and dimples high on his soft cheeks.

A small, selfish part of you envies the people who might have gotten to witness him like that. Warm, a little uncoordinated maybe, eyes topaz in the sun. He must have been a sight to behold, throughout his human life.

Deep down, a part of you knows that, that is what this whole thing with his brothers boils down to. You're not just curious, you're madly in love with him. So much so that when he's away, it does feel uncomfortable. You never believed people when they spoke of love that way, you always thought it to be quite gross, actually.

And maybe you're just a silly little human with silly little feelings, to be so smitten after a year. But there's no going back now, he's a part of you, so of course you think about how much of him you've never gotten to see. Of course you want to meet any tangible part of his incomprehensible life, his family. Even if it's not conventional.

It leaves an odd pit in your stomach, thinking of him young and youthful, thinking of his mother and father and the life that they had created so many lifetimes ago.

You think of him at eighteen, maybe still plush in some areas not yet tainted by the work of adulthood. Had he ever been in love, back then? You swallow back the irrational bitterness you suddenly taste.

You think of him at twenty, and what he might have been passionate about. What life was even like for him. You think of his first kiss, and him at twenty four, a year before his life as what he is now, began.

Truthfully, you don't know a lot about him. It's a strange, sudden realization, but it's just never really mattered in all honesty. Because you know him, how he is now, which is all you'll ever get and is more than what you could've ever asked for.

You've always felt like it's different because his existence in itself has been so tremulous, and in a lot of ways very hard to talk about without it getting uncomfortable because of all that he has lost, or subsequently reminding him of what he is.

Never things he'd admit out loud, but definitely something you've picked up on in his expression or the wistfulness in his voice. It doesn't matter, to you; the bad parts. He's yours, and somehow you two have found each other despite so many centuries vouching on never having met one another at all. You wish you could truly express to him how nothing would ever stray you away.

You've showered and eaten an inadequate dinner by the time Johnny shows up, presence barely perceptible until he's wrapping his strong arms around you from behind.

You're used to it by now, not even flinching anymore. You melt instantaneously, placing your hands over his that are resting around your waist.

"Hi." He whispers, lips against the shell of your ear. You shiver and let out a giggle, turning in his grasp to get a kiss. He's on your lips before you even have to lift yourself on your tippy toes.

"Mm, hi." You mumble, hands cupping his jaw. You hum as he pulls you closer, spinning you so that you're pressed against the counter, his hand on the small of your back blocking you from the hard edge.

"We could stay here, you know," he smiles against your mouth, half teasing and half serious. "a change of plan never hurt anybody."

The idea is actually tempting.

"But I just showered." You pout, and his hands are rubbing your sides, eyes contemplative.

"You're right, you shouldn't go over there smelling anymore enticing than you already do, anyways." He says it with a grit of his teeth, as if the mere thought bothers him.

You're too distracted by his face to really absorb what he's saying, smiling up at him, practically beaming. Before he can quirk his brow and boop your nose with the tip of his finger, you kiss him again.

It's chaste, but it's sincere.

"You're so cute when you're all disgruntled." You state, throwing your arms around his neck. He snorts, shaking his head and licking his heart shaped lips lips out of habit.

"I'm not disgruntled, I just want this to go well." He replies, broad shoulders slumping. You unhook your arms from around him to grasp his hands, large and welcoming in yours. He intertwines your fingers.

"It will. Because I'm with you." It's simple, and undeniable. He knows that, and accepts defeat when he sees how truly bright the gleam in your eye is. You're his own little sun. 

During the drive to his home, Johnny takes this time to give you some much needed insight on the creatures you’ll be meeting. He gives you their names, some key characteristics so that you won’t be startled by their behavior, but he doesn’t give you their ages. He simply refers to the one named Yuta as the oldest, and Mark as the youngest. 

“Youngest and oldest in vampire years or..?” You ask, the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused smile at your interest. You forget to focus for a moment, tracing the planes of his side profile with your eyes. 

“Yuta was my age when he was changed, but he is, in our terms, the eldest. Mark is the youngest both in the factors.” His thumb strokes the back of your knuckles where your clasped hands rest on the center console, though it doesn’t soothe all the burning questions that you’ve decided need to stay in your head, for now. 

You think of mark first, something about his youth, despite the fact that he is centuries older than you, seeming a little bit less intimidating. Almost abstract, in a way. As he describes the youngest, it’s easy to picture a boyish smile, innocence. Until he throws in the fact that the ones that get changed before the brain is fully developed, tend to be the ones with more of an unsteady grasp on their more potent emotions. You can guess what that means, and he suddenly regrets ever opening his mouth. 

Johnny almost debates whether or not he should turn the car around and forget about this occasion all together, growing anxious at your monotone expression and the way you are chewing the skin of your bottom lip, and not realizing you are just lost in deep thought, not perturbed or uncomfortable. 

Really, you are just trying to make out what his brothers may be like. Taeyong, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Doyoung. For some reason, it’s the thought of meeting Yuta that seems the most daunting. Despite the fact that he is Johnny’s age, not technically but anyways - knowing that he has been around for so long has you wondering how a person like that even thinks. 

Maybe you should've listened to your boyfriend. No, you're brave. But sometimes you are not very smart.

You are pulled for your reverie of sorts when your surroundings become darker, gloomier in the way that the trees seem to shield the road ahead from the sun, forming a canopy from above and casting misshapen shadows across the ground.

You don’t realize you’re clutching his hand tighter until Johnny turns to look at you with worried eyes, all the stars and every wish that he could ever grant you swirling in his chocolate irises. 

“Are you alright? We can turn around and-” 

You shake your head in defiance, determined. You aren’t going to back out now, not when you can already see the house from around the bend, pillars high and spiraling, a wide balcony peeking out from behind the trees. 

“I’m perfectly fine, promise.” you give him a soft, reassuring smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes but he knows you’ll likely scowl at him if he keeps insisting on your indifference, so he takes the car just a little bit further, rounding a bend and stalling before cutting the engine. 

The house is a lot more grand that you’d previously expected, the outside still kempt but not as pristine. Mostly, you thought that it would offensive to coin their home as something dark and menacing, not wanting to contribute to the cliché. But, it does in fact feel as though you are walking into a lair.  

It’s beauty is undeniable, though, despite the lack of real warmth that it exudes. Upon entering, wide open space greets you, black marble flooring underneath your boots and a staircase straddling either side of the entryway. Above it is a balcony, hanging over the foyer from the second floor. 

“So I was correct, about the furniture.” You murmur, pressed against his hard side with your arms wound around his forearm despite the fact that the house is seemingly empty. You know that it’s not, though. Any living being who walked into this house would be able to feel it, the static that seems to raise the hair on the back of your neck. 

“You'll have to forgive our complacency when it comes to interior design,"  

The voice seems to appear out of nowhere, melodic and smooth and echoing off of the walls in a way that makes the direction of the sound imperceptible. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see someone making their way down the left staircase, gliding more so than walking. 

"So many years leave us comfortable, rather than fashionable."

Two figures float behind him, while three others descend down the opposite staircase. You could've sworn you'd only glanced at Johnny for half a second, before they suddenly materialized.

The man is suddenly right in front of you, and your eyes act as if they have no choice but to meet his, your breath stalling. It reminds you of the first time you saw Johnny, how shocking it was to be faced with such inhuman beauty.

"My name is Taeyong, it's lovely to meet you." The creature flashes a bright smile, something unreadable in his sharp eyes. His quaint lips are mischievous, or maybe you're just paranoid.

You don't have a chance to respond, already surrounded by a group that seem oddly eager to meet you despite what Johnny had warned, their gate an obvious contrast to your boyfriends. 

They seem to sway effortlessly rather than stand perfectly still, their proximity closer than that of strangers. The energy around them feels unpredictable, and without thought your hand tightens around Johnny's.

"Wow, she smells good." A voice muses from the group, and you follow it to find a face that you somehow automatically know belongs to Mark. His face is youthful, eyes wide and full of glee and then a bit amused, due to what you can assume is from your boyfriend glaring at him sharply.

"No wonder he's so attached." The boy beside Mark, with dimples as deep as you've ever seen, hums to his friend.

"Please, don't be so crude, children. She is our guest." This voice is authoritative, the timbre low but the tone gentle like the stroke of a feather.

The group seems to make way for him without thought, and again, you're instantly struck with recognition simply by his presence alone.

He approaches you without caution, you blink and he's suddenly right there. His hair is longer than the others, curling around his prominent chin and framing his elegant features.

"It's a real pleasure to meet you, we've heard so much about the little human that's enamored our dear brother." You can't look away from his cunning face, his eyes are almost wild in excitement, plush lips stretching across his face to reveal a million wat smile.

He extends his hand towards you, with a bit more reserve now - and the first thing you notice are the sharp, glossy black nails that are more akin to claws, formed into stilettos at the tips of his delicate, slender fingers.

"Careful." Johnny mutters to his brother through his teeth, the man giggling in amusement as he gently takes your hand in his. You hadn't even realized you'd extended it back, his skin almost colder than Johnny's if possible.

"Tsk, so worried. For what reason? Look, I'm being as gentle as a hummingbird. Her hands are so soft."

Yuta. It's undeniable, he's too confident, bemused by this whole ordeal and even more so by the way his brother has stiffened beside you, pulling you back just a fraction of an inch.

The elder sighs wistfully, allowing your hand to drop from his. He meets your eyes once more, your skin buzzing oddly.

"My name is-"

"Yuta. I-I know, I mean I guessed."

It's the first word you've spoken to any them, and your voice is shakier than you'd like, throat dry. The mans lips twitch into a grin, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he clasps his hands together in a stunned manner.

"Wow, perceptive you are. So sure, despite appearing so meek."

You can't decipher his tone, worried that maybe you've messed up by interrupting him. He seems a bit perplexed, in a curious way. You're grateful for a new voice introducing themselves, directing your attention elsewhere.

"I'm Jungwoo," His voice is the most welcoming. "your skin is so pretty. Is that weird to say?" He mutters the last part to the slender, inquisitive man beside him, who's features are similar to that of a feline. He seems indifferent.

But, for the first time since you've arrived, you smile, an odd sense of relief flooding through your nervous system. You feel Johnny relax as well, and you glance up at him for just a moment, to see him already looking down at you.

"It's nice to meet you, Jungwoo," The jubilent vampire flashes you a smile. "all of you, really. Thankyou for welcoming me into your home."

"Of course, doll. Should we give her a tour?" Yuta speaks and Johnny responds almost a heartbeat after the elders suggestion.

"I can do that, give her some space." His voice is polite but firm, and Yuta giggles again, while the others back up a bit. Johnny readjusts his grip on your hand and begins moving towards the right staircase, turning his head to send the rest a look you can't see.

He leads you down the left corridor into a massive hallway, the walls a deep shade of plum, floors white marble instead of black like the ones downstairs.

Once you're out of view from the rest, he stills, turning towards you and rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

"I'm sorry about that, really." His eyes are apologetic and you snort, embracing his middle and kissing his chin.

"Sorry for what? I'm fine, they were fine."

He lets out a sigh, broad shoulders slumping as he does so. He believes you enough to not keep on, pressing his lips to your forehead before continuing his non informative tour.

"I wish they'd keep at least some of their thoughts to themselves," you're turning, brought down another lengthy hall with a massive picture window framing the north wall. Heavy burgundy curtains keep the sun from shining through the glass.

To the left is another set of stairs, small in comparison to the ones you've seen so far, framed with elegant railing. "this is my room, up here." He points to the door that sits right at the top of them, lonesome and heavy looking.

Your heartbeat is suddenly loud in your own ears, excitement bubbling in your belly at the prospect of being in a space that belongs to him. He senses this, and smiles to himself as he wraps his fingers around the doorknob and pushes it open.

Everything about his room is inherently Johnny. It's simple, but so very him.

The atmosphere is completely different to what the rest of the house provokes, the floors a deep cherry red, hardwood. A round, red rug sits in the middle of the room, a leather sectional nestled in the corner to the right. Beside it hangs rows of shelves with a multitude of books, more than you'd normally see lounging in some ones room. He's probably read them all three times over by now.

He has a television, which shouldn't make you giggle as it does. It's far bigger than necessary, taking up almost all the space on the eastern wall. There's a door almost adjacent to the one you entered from, which you presume is the bathroom.

"I love it, it's so comfortable in here." You muse, trotting towards the sectional and throwing yourself on the massive sofa. He chuckles, sauntering towards you and lifting your head so that he can place it atop his lap.

He can't lie to himself, it makes him ache in the most pleasant of ways to have you here, in a place that has been his only real peace since he's met you. Well, scratch that. You are his only safe haven.

"Yeah?" He replies, scratching your scalp lightly, studying the softness of your features as you gaze up at him, elated.

"Mhm, it feels like stepping into a different house entirely. Not that I have an issue with the interior design." You playfully mock his brother Taeyong’s earlier words, and laughter bubbles from your boyfriends throat.

"You don't think it's too melancholy? The house, I mean."

You shake your head indifferently, hair ruffling against the material of his jeans that are covering his thick thighs.

"To be honest it is quite....vampire-y, but it's elegant. And big. And knowing you live here makes it not seem so dark."

His hands are suddenly cupping the area just underneath your arms, effortlessly pulling you up so that you're straddling his lap. Your thighs find their place immediately, knees squeezing his torso.

"You're too good. Too pretty to be in a place like this." Despite his tone his eyes are formed into crescent moons from his smile, and you don't fight the urge to kiss him.

"Shush, or I'll battle you to the death." You mumble, his nose nudging your cheek as he tilts his head to move in a steady rythm with your mouth.

"Mm, think I beat you to it." He teases, and you can feel his smile. You're not in the frame of mind to scold him for that one.

Naturally, without even thinking, your body heats up fast from the way he kisses you. Even if he's trying to be chaste, it always ends up with a flame being fed by his tongue. His scent, the sensation of wholeness when you're surrounded by him.

Especially now, in the comfort of and quiet of his room when all you can hear is the smack of your mouths, steady and calculated. You're encapsulated by everything that belongs to the person you love.

A soft push to your shoulders has you humming in confusion, you're still not back on earth when you break apart to see the contrived, reluctant expression that twists his face.

"We can't - not here." He strains, very much so aware of way your hips are planted so firmly against his, the sweet scent of blood that rushes like a current through the area between your thighs.

You pout, and instinctually he's cupping your face between his palms, kissing it away. His fingertips graze the shell of your ear. 

"Don't give me that look, you know why I'm saying no. If they thought you smelled good before, you'd be the finest of dining options if you walked down there wet."

Your body pulses with arousal, arousal that he can practically taste on the tip of his tongue. A petulant whine slips from your throat, while your palms graze his hardening length through his jeans, and his cock twitches.

Fuck. He really can't deny you, can he?

[obeiii-mee]

Heyo, this is my first time asking (im kinda new to tumblr, so please dont judge) if you would'nt mind, could you do some headcannons (or oneshots, it dosen't matter) with all the demon bros and a MC who is crippled/paralized in their legs, and has to use a wheelchair to get around? Thank you!!

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This is the first time I’ve written about a crippled MC, so I hope I didn’t fuck this up or anything. I found out that being paralysed in both legs is a disability called Paraplegia so that’s how I titled this post. And y’all are too sweet, you are more than welcome anon! I hope I can portray this properly because I am not crippled myself so I’ve opted to do some research before writing this! I hope you like it! Also, I feel inclined to add that none of the brothers would treat you too differently if you happen to have a disability because you’re their human nonetheless :)

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The Brothers with an MC that has Paraplegia and needs a wheelchair to get around:

Lucifer:

-Lucifer was in charge of choosing the final human, exchange student for the program so it’s guaranteed he already knew about your predicament before you even arrived

-Him and Diavolo probably had many meetings concerning your disability before the program could commence, considering that being unable to walk would double the chances of you getting killed since you are obviously more vulnerable

-Not to mention all the treatment you would require

-Lucifer is not well versed in human illnesses and disorders, but he makes sure that he is educated enough on the matter before you get brought down there

-It would not be easy, but he is determined to help you survive your year in DevilDom for the prince’s sake

-First problem of the day was, of course, your wheelchair

-Due to lack of time, Lucifer was unable to instal ramps around the House of Lamentation which meant that for the first couple of weeks, someone would’ve had to help you move around certain parts of the house

-He gave that highly prestigious job to himself because he didn’t trust his brothers and thought they would accidentally drop you and your wheelchair down the stairs

-He talks a lot to you, even at the beginning, because he needs to establish your needs and what he should do to make sure you don’t die for the following year

-You would have to tell him about physical therapy and how most commonly it uses heat, massage and exercise to stimulate your nerves and muscles, making it a great treatment for people with leg paralysis

-Once you two enter a more intimate and personal relationship, it’s more than likely he’ll help you perform those things himself (instead of kidnapping a human doctor from somewhere)

-Lucifer knows you have no problem getting around with your wheelchair by yourself but there are times where he’ll insist to push you along in order to give you a quick break

-I can totally imagine you two strolling around DevilDom and having cosy chats about RAD and your adjustments to DevilDom

-He has a softer side to him that he’s afraid to show most of the time, but he feels so at ease when you’re around, it’s hard for him to hold that part of him hidden from you

-Of course, your safety still remains his primary concern and he acts more like your guardian than Mammon does, even if he was originally supposed to look out for you

-He will accompany you almost anywhere. And if he can’t, he’ll have one or more of his brothers do it. And even then he’s probably lurking nearby, just in case

-He would always be willing to listen about your condition, if you wished to tell him whether you were born with the defect or why you ended up crippled later in life. Either way, he’s all ears

-If you would rather not speak about it, he wouldn’t pry and respect your decision because he knows it’s not his place to pressure you

-Because of your paralysis, it’s quite obvious to demons that you are even weaker (physically speaking) than most humans and that usually puts a target on your back

-Howver, never fear, because Lucifer is pretty quick to put lower rank demons in their place with just a mere stare

-Oop one of them passed out from the fear, haha

-In conclusion, he’s the most responsible when it comes your comfort and safety during your stay

-He makes sure you are always left in good hands and and provides most of the requirements you need

-Y’all should see how his wings puff up when he senses a threat approaching you, he looks like a peacock ready to go on attack lol

Mammon:

-The second born is unsurprisingly a bit of a jerk at first

-He stays really grumpy the whole day of your arrival because he’s stuck babysitting you stupid human

-“Lucifer c’mon, what’s all this workload for? The human can’t even walk by themselves, why do I have to help them out?”

-Wtf Mammon you can’t say shit like that

-Anyways, the following very few days, the only thing he’s thinking about is how much money he could sell your wheelchair for

-He’s the literal incarnation of greed, what else did you expect from him?

-After a while, he starts feeling a bit guilty every time he thinks about it though

-Mammon is gonna take this secret to the grave (laughs in immortal) but he actually really likes pushing you around

-Maybe it’s because it’s a clear indication to everyone around him that you are HIS human, under HIS protection and therefore you trust HIM the most since he was your FIRST MAN

-He will insist on helping you get out of that thing when you need to go to bed and stuff every night and he will get pouty real fast if you let any of his other brothers do it

-You wake up to him trying to roll around in your wheelchair one night at like 3am

-At some point, he stole a wheelchair from the human realm to match with his human. You can guess the consequences of his actions

-I can imagine you having to face a staircase or something at school and Mammon being like:

-“Fuck it, imma carry this fragile human instead; wheelchair and all!”

-Like you were a sack of potatoes or something smh

-Cue his brothers watching him from a distance as he heaves you and basically weight-lifts you up the stairs

-Ok but every now and again, he gets so sad thinking about you not being able to walk, like he starts crying kinda sad

-While you stand there like 😐 “Why are you crying?”

-He’s so quick to help if he senses you’re in danger too

-It’s canon that Mammon is crazy fast if he wants to be so if he has even the slightest impression that your life is threatened, his feet are already moving

-He will charge at your immediate threat at around 120 miles per hour-do not try him when he’s mad

-“The Great Mammon saved the day! C’mon MC, let’s go buy some ice cream. My treat! Ya better be grateful!”

-He says while the demon that tried to eat you lies on the floor with about a dozen broken bones

-Mammon is the second most powerful demon out of all of his brothers, even if he doesn’t resort to violence often

Levi:

-He didn’t really know how to react when you first teleported to DevilDom

-I mean, from the very beginning he considered you to be a human normie but at the same time, he felt bad you were stuck with his brothers for the rest of the year

-I think he would understand you would have an even harder time integrating yourself in their house because of your disability and he knows his siblings are really fucking annoying, always pushing you around and whatnot

-So, he kinda lets you hide in his room quite often

-You guys chill out in there all the time, much to the dismay of the other brothers who also want to spend time with you

-At some point, Levi definitely begged asked Lucifer to let you start online classes with him

-“But wouldn’t it be easier for MC to do online school from home rather than go to R.A.D since there aren’t any ramps or anything around there???”

-“The answer is no Leviathan.”

-“Ugh fine! What a fucking boomer-“

-For some reason, he gets so flustered whenever you ask him to push you around

-He blushes right to the tips of his ears and then he starts sputtering some nonsense that you can’t make out at all

-But he’s more than happy to do it, especially if you guys are going to a convention or if he’s dragging you out to buy new merch

-You two would get along in the sense that Levi realises the struggles you faced all your life were tough to overcome and he believes you are just like him

-Usually left out by other people, ignored even

-He knows you always listen to him ramble on about whatever he is currently obsessed with and how much you check up on him to make sure he never isolated himself

-He wants to do that for you too! Talk to him about your hobbies, please I’m begging you-he feels so bad whenever he’s doing all the talking

-If you ask him to help you with anything (getting something, helping you into bed—that sort of thing), he legally and physically can’t say ‘no’

-And he would get envious enough to stop talking to you for a day or two if you let his brothers do it instead (the second and third born are indeed similar lmao)

-S T A Y I N H I S R O O M, W H E R E Y O U C A N B E P R O T E C T E D !

-He will feel so much more at ease if you’re in his room because to him, that’s his haven

-If you’re in there with him, that means you’re not getting involved in his siblings’ endless and dangerous shenanigans

-Whenever you’re at school, he can’t help but worry about your well-being

-Because you’re human! You’re gonna get killed!! Do you know how much your organs sell on the black market in DevilDom??? 100x more than in the human realm, that’s for sure

-Would they have a black market or would it be a regular market lol

-For some reason, he also likes staying in your wheelchair when you’re not using it

-I think he just takes comfort in knowing it’s something that belongs to you and smells like you and-

-OK Levi, sit back down

-He wouldn’t treat you any differently if you had a disability tbh, but he’d be more concerned because you can’t even run away or anything

-So he’s so fuckin’ relieved when you guys are just vibing in his room

-He could die happy knowing he kept his best friend/ partner safe

Satan:

-Satan would be even more prepared for your arrival than Lucifer would, in a sense

-Out of all of his brothers, he’s most likely to understand and recognise paraplegia (either from studying human illnesses/birth defects/disabilities or from encountering humans with said disability)

-He’s a smart boy, alright?

-Always seems to be the first to notice if you need help or if someone’s bothering you

-Though in the very beginning, he was pretty tempted to just let you get killed to see how angry Lucifer could get

-Seeing dear Luci’s misery brings him great joy 🥰🥰🥰

-Once you two manage to build a very honest and strong relationship, he feels more and more inclined to keep you out of harm’s way

-Pls, he would feel so honoured if you let him push you around (it’s like you asked him to h*ld h*nds or something)

-If you require treatment of any kind, he would be so happy to help

-But in a subtle way...?

-Satan makes it seem so smooth too like he doesn’t mind lending a helping hand when in reality he’s all giddy inside

-*Kinda wants to rub it in his brothers’ faces but at the same no, because he’s definitely the bigger person here

-He wants to know how your wheelchair works

-It’s got all of these neat mechanisms and he wants to learn how they’re constructed because he never had the chance to inspect one before

-He’s such a sweetheart about asking you as well and never pries about your disability unless you start elaborating yourself

-Most of the time, he acts all charming and very gentleman-like

-So people have a hard time spotting and acknowledging the building rage inside of him every time he sees you are threatened by some moronic low rank demon

-Satan’s usually chill when it comes to injuries, unless he can see you’re in horrible pain

-There’s nothing a few spells can’t accomplish

-But when others purposefully try harming you?

-It’s like he loses all the self control he’s been trying to perfect over the centuries and he can’t help himself from at least breaking someone’s rib cage

-Satan’s a weird one because he’s protective of you even though he’s more on the relaxed side when compared to his siblings

-He very much acknowledges that you made it this far in life with your predicament so he doesn’t feel the need to baby you or anything

-You’re strong and he knows this

-It’s one of the many things he clearly loves about you

-That one time you rolled over Mammon’s foot with your wheelchair on purpose, he was wheezing

Asmo:

-Even now, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be stuck inside a wheelchair for the rest of his eternal life

-I mean, he’d obviously still be absolutely fabulous, have you seen him? He’s gonna be gorgeous either way

-But after the two of you meet, he definitely starts thinking about how he takes his feet for granted all the time

-It would be so difficult to complete his daily tasks without the ability to walk or run around

-That’s why he gets sad every time he remembers that’s your reality and on days like that, you’ve noticed he gives you a helluva lot more attention than usual

-He knows you don’t need pity or anything so he’s just making sure his human has all the support they can get

-Paraplegia or not, shopping trips are still a go-go

-He loves buying you clothes! And he loves helping you try them on! Asmo takes it very seriously

-Might have a go at the employees if they’re being rude to you

-You don’t even ask him to, but he subconsciously starts pushing you around himself whenever the two of you are out together

-“MC! Look at that new shop that’s just opened! Isn’t it adorable? We have to check it out!”

-He can’t help it! There’s so many places he wants to visit, he sort of just drags you with him wherever he goes

-Even at home, he always pops out of nowhere to coax you into coming to his room

-Y’all have so many skin routines to do each day

-Like he’s in your room most nights to greet you goodnight and tuck you in, with the rest of his brothers it gets so awkward at times

-Asmo just wants to see you smile, ok? He thinks you have a beautiful smile and laugh and he wants to remind you that you’re marvellous, disability or not

-And if anyone does anything to put an end to your self confidence, he will swiftly put an end to their life

-Please, he’s a pro at ruining lives, he’s been doing it for centuries

-Asmo has such a huge influence over the people in DevilDom, he just needs to make this one post on Devilgram to end said demon’s whole career

-I mean, who is he compared to him, Hmm? So don’t worry MC, scum like that don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you :)

-That one time Mammon tried lifting you up the stairs and Asmo started shrieking, like put them down! Don’t manhandle them like that, poor human :(

Beel:

-I know I sound repetitive, but he would be an overall sweetheart to you no matter the circumstances

-If Mammon is not by your side, then Beel definitely is

-His big, scary aura and figure usually scares off any threat in a 10 mile radius

-Most demons don’t fancy being eaten by the Avatar of Gluttony, ya know?

-Idk why but I feel like he’d be the type to ask for oral consent every time he wanted to push you around

-He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable :(

-Surprisingly also the type to lift you and your wheelchair whenever an obstacle gets in your way

-You basically weigh the same amount as a paper plate compared to him, so he has no problem doing so

-He doesn’t really understand your condition as well as Satan may do, but he’s trying his best

-You mean so much to him and he feels it’s only fair he learns more about your disability as a thank you for what you’ve done for him

-He has a rough time keeping up with you when it comes to stuff like physical therapy because he’s very unfamiliar with it but that doesn’t mean he’s not gonna help

-Of course, Beel believes that this is the second best way to show you how much he cares for you besides the obvious ‘I love you’

-Giving you a hand whenever you need his support the most

-That’s his way of saying “I’m not going to let you down. I want you to trust me, the same way I trust you.”

-And knowing him, he will try to do everything in his power to keep you safe and sound

-After a while, you’re bound to notice he’s the first one to pull you out of his brothers’ pranks before you have a chance to get hurt

-Beel is always the one handing you stuff from high places you can’t reach, without teasing you for it like Mammon might do

-Always the first one to remind you to get plenty of rest and to eat enough

-He wants to protect you and his brothers because he knows he failed to do so with Lilith so yeah, he’s a bit overprotective at times

-He doesn’t mean to be overbearing, but he gets so anxious knowing you’re by yourself

-After a few months of getting accommodated with him, your disability is no longer brought up in the conversation

-Because he doesn’t care that you are crippled and forced to use a wheelchair

-You are part of his family and he loves you no matter what

Belphie:

-He didn’t really care, even when you first met and his hatred for humans was at its very peak

-It didn’t matter that you had a disability

-All that mattered to him at the time was killing you to satisfy that deeply rooted need of vengeance inside of him

-Though he was sort of surprised his brothers didn’t get to you first

-In general, he’s pretty chill about you being crippled in both legs

-It takes too much effort to worry about your well-being 24/7 after all

-Surprisingly, he does keep an eye out for you if his siblings aren’t nearby

-It’s his redemption arc people, he’s trying to be nicer

-But he has such an irritating way of showing his affection for you

-Do not let him push you around

-He’s either going to a) fall asleep after 30 seconds and slump over you in the middle of RAD’s halls

-Or b) be annoying and fling your wheelchair in every direction possible just to piss you off

-He likes messing with you because you give him the best reactions and he thrives on that

-You’ve almost fallen off your wheelchair multiple times because of this asshole

-Not that he’d actually let you fall, he just wants to see how easily he can get you to yell at him

-Speaking of said wheelchair, like Mammon and Levi, he also loves using it when you’re not

-You’ve woken up to him curled up and asleep in that thing quiet often and he’s gotten in trouble over it every time with Lucifer

-But he doesn’t care

-And at this point, I don’t think even he knows whether he’s doing it to get a reaction out of you or because he somehow found a way to make himself comfortable there

-He would low key use you as a mode of transportation every time you go to RAD

-Just clings the damn wheelchair and almost topples both of you over

-“Belphie, there’s nothing stopping you from walking 😐”

-“Shh, just bring me to class and let me nap until then.”

-He doesn’t mention your legs but he still lays his head on your lap often

-Might make you hold him like a bride every time you stroll around the house

-It’s done out of love, I promise 😌😌

———————————

Al~

[simsadventures]

Not Me: Chapter 1: Sweet, Sweet Life

Summary: You always wanted the perfect life- great husband, fulfilling job, and overall happiness. What if you can’t have even a bit of your fairytale?

Warnings: angst, swearing, implied smut, memories (in italics)

Word Count: 2074

A/N: The first ever chapter of Not Me is finally here! Im so excited about this story, and I seriously can’t wait for you all to read it. Let me know what you think so far, and what do you expect from this little story? The ride has only just started, and it will get spicier as we go along, I promise xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

The sun was shining through the blinds, and you groaned loudly. Another day in your personal nightmare. You tried to snuggle into the pillows harder, willing your sleep to come again and take you for at least another few hours, so that you wouldn’t have to face the world. And by the world, you meant your husband, James.

Just the thought of him made a shiver run down your spine, and not the good kind. You didn’t even know how you got to that position. There used to be times when James was all you could think of.

You were at high school together, buddies, thanks to your fathers owning a publishing company together. You were a freshman, and he was a senior, but that didn’t stop you from spending a lot of time together. You used to piss off your fathers too often for your own good, whenever there was a banquet or some other fancy shit, you and Bucky would always find a way to make it at least a bit enjoyable for the two of you.

You had each other to hold on to, and that was enough. You both went to a different university, Bucky attending Yale, while you went to Brown. It was during this time that you grew apart, having different goals in life, and life choices as well. But your crush was still strong as ever at that time.

James had this ability to draw people to them. You could even pinpoint the exact thing that made him so charming because there were so many of them. His eyes, his deep, gruff voice, his physique, which would get any girl to her knees, or his charm. But you knew he wasn’t interested in you that way.

While you saw Bucky partying every second possible, you were more the studying type. Not that you didn’t have your fair share of wild parties, making you wake up in Canada instead of your home. But you were a passionate reader and student, and so when the crucial times came, you knew how to use your brain. And form what you heard, with Bucky’s party habits, he had to pay somebody to take all his exams. That was the only plausible option in your mind.

You only saw each other during summers, when you both worked for Barnes&Clark, your fathers’ company. And while Bucky was much more interested in all the sexy secretaries, you were impressed by all it entailed to be a businesswoman. You sat with Mr Barnes and your father in their meetings, they even seemed to listen to you while you spoke about your ideas of new ways of getting books to young people.

It was close to your graduation that your life turned completely, and, at the time, you thought for the better.

There was a knock on your door, and you frowned. It was Thursday evening, and you weren’t expecting anyone. What was even weirder that the person was already in the building, without ringing the bell from the front door. You cautiously went and looked through the peep-hole, only to be utterly surprised.

You opened the door, a confused frown on your face.

“Bucky. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked him, stepping aside, to let him inside.

He didn’t say anything, just stepped in and waited for you to take him further inside your apartment. When you led you to the sofa and sat down, you raised your eyebrows, indicating that he really should start explaining what it was he wanted.

“Look, Y/N. We’ve known each other for a long time, and I’ve been thinking, recently, and I reached a decision in which, I hope, you’ll support me.”

You still didn’t say anything, not sure where he was going with it. You haven’t heard from him in months, and so it was peculiar as to why he suddenly came knocking on your door.

Without any other word, he got on his knee and pulled out a white velvet box from his pocket. Your eyes were suddenly the size of a cartoon character, and you were pretty sure they now occupied most of your face.

“W-what? Bucky are you drunk? Or are you fatally ill? What the hell are you talking about?” You asked him, on the verge of a mental breakdown. This couldn’t be happening. Sure, you liked him and sure, you did try to write Y/N Barnes a few too many times before. But you were both young, 24 and 27 years old, and you sure as hell weren’t ready for marriage.

“I prioritise doll. I know it sounds crazy, but think about it. I know you have been single for far too long, and you’re never comfortable around any other guy than me. I’ve had my fair share of fun, and now I’m ready to settle down. And with whom better than you? We used to be best friends, and I think you never really grow from that kind of bond. Just think about it, will you?”

You were looking in those icy blue eyes, and for a weird reason, you saw the desperation in them and a hint of anger. You couldn’t be too sure, because you haven’t seen him for so long, but he had one thing right. You never really grow out of that bond. You thought he did, but obviously, he was thinking about you as much as you were thinking about him.

“I’ll need some time, and I think we should spend some time together if you want to marry me, don’t you think?”

A flash of something you weren’t able to recognise ran through his face, but as soon as it appeared, it was gone, and you weren’t really sure what it was.

“Sure, can I stay tonight and we can watch a movie, or something, huh?” He asked, without a hint of a smile, and you enthusiastically nodded. After all, this was something you dreamed of quite often, to be completely honest.

It went like this for a while, you and Bucky spending evenings together, and after one particularly fun evening, full of gin and tonics and tangled sheets, you finally gave him your answer.

“I will marry you Bucky, if it’s still something you want, I think we could be really good together,” you whispered against his naked chest, laying almost on top of him in your bed. He hummed, patted your shoulder and got up from the bed.

You looked at him confused, trying to determine if you said something wrong, but he only pulled the velvet box out of the pants that were laying abandoned on the floor and slipped the massive diamond ring on your finger.

“Good. Now sleep so we can plan the damn thing,” he said in a hushed voice, got dressed, and left you laying on the bed, naked and exhausted from the amazing sex you just had, confused as hell.

And that’s how your marriage pretty much started. Despite Bucky leaving that day, you were pretty excited about the whole ordeal, and so was your and Bucky’s family. The only unexcited party seemed to be Bucky, but you thought it was just his face, nothing serious.

But after a year of marriage, you realised that it probably wasn’t just his face. When he was around his Uni friends or his colleagues, his demeanour changed drastically.

He was joyful and funny, and always the life of the party. But when you two were alone, he was brooding and looked pissed 99% of the time.

You thought you’d have everything you ever wished for. Happy family, amazing husband, and a dream job. But things aren’t always the way we want them.

Your amazing husband rarely ever spoke to you, and when he did, it was to point out a flaw on you.

You shouldn’t talk so loudly. Your language isn’t lady-like. I don’t like it when you wear sweatpants, I think you should look nice even at home. This steak isn’t medium-rare. This make-up is too much. Stand and be pretty. Blah blah blah.

You tried to do all he said, trying to be the best wife for him, because you still had the idea of Bucky loving you, and wanting to spend his life with you. But every sentence like this created a gash in your heart, and by the first anniversary, you thought your heart was just a shredded piece of muscle, unable to function any more.

What broke you down to your knees, was, however, a different kind of message, delivered to you by Bucky and your father.

“James will lead the company, he has most of the rights to Barnes&Clark, and we think it would be great if you were a stay-at-home wife like you were supposed to be from the very beginning. Look, Y/N, you are a woman, and those shouldn’t be heads of the company. You understand that, don’t you?”

You were in total and complete shock. He trained you your whole life, to be the CEO, or at least the head of the publishing, while somebody else would take care of the numbers. But now he was telling you that your dream was vanishing right in front of your eyes.

“But, but, dad, I thought you-“

“How about you stop thinking and just be a pretty thing, sweetie?” Your father asked you mockingly, and to your utter surprise, Bucky laughed as well, patting your father’s shoulder.

You wanted to run away in tears, because every time you tried to speak up, either your father or Bucky would shush you. By the time the meeting ended, your eyes were filled with tears, but you didn’t want either of the men seeing this weak side of yours.

When you left the company’s building with Bucky by your side, you were shaking with both sadness and anger.

“Are you seriously with him on that, Bucky?” You asked, desperation evident in your voice. But the look Bucky gave you made you regret that you even asked him anything.

“Of course, I agree with him. You have to take care of our household, and not be busy with business. Oh, and, by the way, I would prefer it if you called me James, from now on.”

It felt like he pushed a dagger deep inside your guts. He let everyone call him Bucky, he would always say that it just felt better when the people around him called him Bucky. And now he wanted you, his wife, to call him James?

You sighed again and sat up in your bed. Ever since you moved in, you had separate bedrooms, James telling you he needed his rest to run the company. And even if you wanted to protest in the very beginning, you gave up. Like on many things in your life at the moment.

You used to have dreams, you used to be ambitious, but this life took everything from you. You rarely ever had sex with James- he would always tell you how tired he was and that you should be tired as well. And if you weren’t, it meant you weren’t doing enough through the day.

You learned how to cook, how to bake, how to sew, how to have the perfect garden, but it still wasn’t impressive enough for James to spare a kind word for you.

And neither did you father. He would always only remind you to be a good wife to James and to leave the rest to the men, and by your first anniversary, you believed all of those things, your self-respect pretty much non-existing.

You got up from the bed and headed towards the closet, to put on something representative to not give James any reason to pester you. You took a quick shower and put on some make-up, knowing full well that James was against the natural beauty look. You put on high-waisted wide pants and a blouse, trying no to look too shabby even if you were only going down to the kitchen to make James a breakfast.

When you came into the kitchen, he was already there, sitting by the table, reading news on his phone. He didn’t even spare you a look, and you sighed, walking towards the kitchen isle. It would be just another day in your hell, and you couldn’t do anything about it. Or, at least, you thought you couldn’t.

/Next Chapter >

Not Me:

@jennmurowski13 @lovely-geek @vogueworthy-barnes @veronawrites @loser-alert @trumpettay @thesoldierrogers @girlbehindthecameraposts @little-smurf @jesseswartzwelder @fuckwhateverfuck @learisa @karla-silva @blowing-mikey @afterlaughter27 @93generation @ungratefultroll @maybeisthemoon @greenprisca @geeksareunique @champagnesugamama @hailqueenconquer @grincheveryday @mc225g @thatweirdwalangpake @neerness

Bucky Taglist

@this-kitten-is-smitten @paradisiacalsparks @crazybutconfidentaf @owlyannah @lassini @s-trawberryv-eins @reniescarlett

Marvel Taglist

@voltage-my2dlove @kneel-begyourpardon @lumar014 @ptrs-prkrs

Forever Tag:

@eileenalone @sasbb23 @p8tn0lish @coffeebooksandfandom @waiting4inspiration @caswinchester2000 @mogaruke @justthatfangirloverthere @mushyjellybeans @livsheph @sebbbystaaan @notyourtypicalrose

If your name is crossed out, tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason, I’m sorry.

If you’d like to be tagged comment/message/send an ask. If you like the story, please reblog :) any comments are appreciated, even the critical ones. Always a space to get better, so let me know what you guys think.

[leavetwn]

* KAYLEE BRYANT, CISWOMAN + SHE/HER  | you know SUZIE TANAKA, right? they’re TWENTY-ONE, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, EIGHTEEN YEARS? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to VALENTINE BY HOPE TALA like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole ROLLERSKATES SCUFFED FROM YEARS OF USE, STARTING A JOURNAL ENTRY TWO YEARS SINCE THE LAST ONE, A SIGH OF RELIEF ONCE YOU'RE FINALLY ALONE thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is NOVEMBER 28TH, so they’re a SAGGITARIUS, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( claire, 22, est, she/her )

it’s me again ! bringing a character who i’ve played for a while now, just switched up & such for every rp, and now , i’m bringin her here. :^) i hope you enjoy her as much as i do! tw: mentions of mental illness (anxiety)

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 .

full name: suzie tanaka. nickname(s): su, anything your muse wants to call her tbh. age: twenty-one. date of birth: november 28th. zodiac sign: saggitarius. gender/pronouns: ciswoman, she/her. sexual orientation: bisexual. romantic orientation: biromantic. hometown: san francisco, californio. current residence: irving, north carolina. occupation: part time waitress at cutie pie’s thanks to her skills on skates. full time student at the local college in her junior year as a creative writing major. she minors in film pro eye color: brown. hair color/style: dark brown, upper-mid back length & she usually just wears it in a simple ponytail. it’s more manageable when she’s out. however, when she’s at home, she’ll leave it down. height : 5′3″. clothing style: you can’t really put suzie’s style into one category. it’s inspired by several different eras & many times she pieces it together. some might call it a bit tacky at times, but she thinks it looks cute. to her, that’s all that matters. tattoos: none. probably could never attempt to get one cause she’s seriously afraid of needles lol. piercings: her ears and that’s when she was fairly young. reference the tattoos portion for reasoning.

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 .

when you were around six years old  , you first realized that you were lonely. it wasn’t like you weren’t around other people. it was just that those people were mostly your mom and dad. occasionally your cousins would come over sometimes, but they were all older than you by at least four years. your parents were kind of eccentric, and for that, they experienced how harsh other kids could be very early on. they decided they didn’t want you to experience the same things, so since both were felt they were prepared enough to do so, they homeschooled you to keep you sheltered from those types of things. 

you’re sure they had good intentions. that’s not something you questioned, but you wished they’d at least find another kid you could be friends with or have another kid. you found yourself bored by yourself, so you immersed yourself in things like books or whatever movies they had around the house. this is where your love of fairytales began, and you’d fantasize about living in one while you read or watched the stories unfold.

you lived in your head, and you still pretty much do. you’re an idealist, even though you haven’t seen much of the world. perhaps it’s the fact that you haven’t ventured very far from your home that makes you so, and while life could still be boring, you always had another book or movie to keep you company. you grew content being on your own, and the more that you were, the more you began to enjoy your own company.

that didn’t change the fact that you longed for friends. in all the stories you read or watched, the protagonist had one other person along with them for much of their journey. sure, you had people that you were friendly with, but it was never to the extent that you wanted. it was never a best friend or a close group  —  just someone you saw on few occasions. it also didn’t help how you felt when you were around others. the way you monitored every step you took, the way you crossed your legs, or going over the way you would speak to someone in your head over and over. you figured for the longest time it was because you were shy, but a diagnosis of anxiety gave you a lot more clarity and almost a sense of relief. those things started to make more sense.

being alone helped a lot when it came to academics. you spent a lot of your time studying or looking up random ass facts on the internet, and because of this, you’d call yourself fairly smart. you know your shit. it also helped a lot when getting into colleges. you didn’t aim too high though, not yet comfortable being all the way on your own. so, you chose the nearby university to attend. 

you move out. you’re excited, and your parents are nervous but prepared. they’re not oblivious to the fact that this day would come. you’re ready to go out and face the world, but most of all, you’re ready to make friends. you’re ready to go out and experience the world, every small step at a time. you’re convinced at college you’ll become a brand new person, find yourself, and make plenty of friends. 

it doesn’t go like that at first. of course it doesn’t. it’s a new environment, and it takes getting used to. but soon, people loosen up and warm up to you. you’re quick to make a couple of friends. it isn’t at all like the stories you’d read or watched when you were younger. it is happy and fun and joyous, but you realize that friendships take work. it’s a bit exhausting, as someone who had become such an introvert, but you manage and form close bonds. 

as of now, you are working on your degree and managing life one step at a time. you’re doing pretty well, and things are looking up. you keep your head in the clouds still to this day, imagining what the future will be like. you’re still idealistic and optimistic, not that that’s a bad thing.  

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 .

i was being exaggerative with the ‘being at home’ stuff rip. i mean, she did spend a lot of time at home, but she wasn’t always there. her dad would take her out to rockin’ and rollin’, and i mean, she fuckin rocks when it comes to skating. it was kind of freeing to her as a child. she def got a pair of rollerblades as a christmas present, and she probably was the kid skating down her neighborhood road and shit from sunrise until her mom told her to take her ass inside. 

maybe seems like she’s ditzy and she’s probably somewhat naive, but she’s definitely not stupid. she’s also a fast learner. she is, however, too nice for her own good. she’ll learn eventually, but she’s hopeful and an optimist at heart 💔

loves her dad but tells her mom everything. she doesn’t recognize it, but her mom was probably her first best friend lmaoo. they have a really good relationship. she has a good relationship with her dad too. he’s a bit more closed off than her mom, and she recognizes that but understands.

has an irrational fear that everyone’s like,,, staring at her & thinking she’s weird. really wants everyone to like her but she’s not sure how to make that happen (news flash, it won’t)

her fam is actually from san francisco but when she was 3, her dad got a better offer in irving so that’s how they ended up here. she knows this & she wonders what life woulda been like if she stayed back in san fran. probably wouldn’t have changed but she literally lives in her head and imagines shit like that’s her job at this point so yehhh 

dreams of being a screenwriter and maybe even a director one day. she saw how film and books influenced her life as a kid & she wants to have the same impact, yk? v cute to me i love that. maybe she’ll write a book one day too who knows

i’m feelin like she has a ton of online friends cause she was seeking connection /w people so it makes sense. shout out to all her online pals who kept her sane & shit, but it wasn’t enough for her cause she really wanted those kinds of things irl.

is a hopeless romantic rip to her. just wants someone to sweep her up off her feet and give her butterflies but this aint no damn fairytale so let’s make it chaotic

character parallels: lily (dash & lily, 2020) , amélie poulain (amélie, 2001) , belle in some ways lmao (beauty and the beast, 1991) more to be added.

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 .

*  friends, best friends, etc.  — literally any friends at all. this is the connection she craves the most tbh. platonic over romantic periodt ! she just wants people to braid her hair and have deep, personal convos with about literally anything while legally blonde is on the television. 

* a bad influence  —  i mean, she stayed inside mostly & is kind of an introvert. didn’t have tons of friends either, so she didn’t really have time to go to parties, etc. BE A BAD INFLUENCE SHE NEEDS TO LET LOOSE LMAOO. it’ll prolly take a lot to get her out but hey 

* good influence  — someone she’s a good influence on & who she helps in some way. i could see it happenin’. if you see it happening, i mean... hmu you know where i am mwah 💖

* crush  — someone she’s head over heels with. i mean, it probably wouldn’t take a lot. in my head she be catching feelings way too fast. it’s just a thing, but yeah, it could go either way. maybe your character is into her too or she’ll end up getting her heart broken which is lmao bound to happen one day. could also be someone who’s crushing on her but she’s way to busy focusing all her romantic attention on someone else to notice? idk i’m just here for all the plots.

* annoyance  — someone who finds her ass annoying/does not like her. she wants everyone to like her so it would be so confusing and upsetting and she would be like wtf did i do but i want it cause i love angst. sorry to all my muses out there luv yall but i’m just bein real

* again, anything at all  — if you have an idea that you love, pls don’t hesitate to hmu and lemme know. i promise i will 99.9% of the time be down. the same goes for any wanted connection doodads that i reblog like if u see it and ur like omg i luv that... PLEASE hmu i luv u all already & just wanna have plots and write with you srsly

[voidselfshipp]

Saved

Cw: violence, food

Ok to rb

It was late, she knew she shouldnt be out at this hour.

Yet here she was, a bag of food in her hand, another with her keys ready, her breath quickens as she feels the presence of someone behind her.

She had the strenght to take them, she knew she could defend herself.

But there is no worse enemy than fear, she speeds up, and the Man behind her also does.

Shes praying, seeing her appartment was two blocks away,trying to start running.

Another Man walks infront of her, she cant see his face,just a black and white mask, who as soon as she passes him gets infront of the stalker stopping him.

-- get out of my way, asshole-- the stalker said.

-- what where you doing following her?

She knew that voice,or well she heard it before,the moon shined as some clouds move away.

Rorschach...

She didnt think the anti-hero would be around this block, but thank goodness he was there.

The stalker resists and rorschach in a swift move makes him fall on the ground-- leave the woman alone-- his foot stomped on his chest-- go back to the hole that you crawled out of,you Filthy Scum!

The stalker freaks out and bolts running away from the anti hero.

He turns to face jerico,walking some steps towards her-- are you hurt? Did that bastard do anything to you?

--No, thankfully, thank you uh...for saving me...

--im happy to help, can I Scort you back to your home?

--yeah id love that...

Both walk togheter in silence, the appartment building was silent as ever, she says her goodbyes and enters the building.

Rorsarch, or well, Walter, sighs, scratching the back of his neck, the woman he saved was so beautiful, If she started talking while walking he wouldnt know how to react, hed get nervous, his face would heat up and wouldnt be able to utter a Word, surely making a fool out of himself.

He stuck around the block for a little longer, and Walked up the Fire scape stairs, he peeks his head and there she was, fifth floor, asleep on her bed, something curled up besides her, she rested soundly,and he lets out a loved full sigh, putting a hand on the locked Windows glass it started to rain, and he then sighed in annoyance.

And so he went back home,making sure he wasnt followed either.

He took routes nobody knew, he checked every corner and alley, nothing,no-one tailed Him to his home.

The door clicks Open, he locks it behind her and takes off his mask,breathing the fresh air.

Taking off his clothes changing into normal ones,leaving the others in his secret Office.

As he enters the kitchen hes greeted by this tiny pomerarian jumping at his feet, he picks the dog up and kisses its forehead-- hello princess,did you miss me?--the dog barks and he makes himself something to eat.

After dinner, altough, late dinner, he went to sleep,clinging to the pillow,thinking of the woman he saved.

And so, destiny kept making them meet, or more so, rorschach would always make sure shed be safe, even during the day.

Silently following her from a distance,oh how much he blushed when he heard her laugh, her sense of style, it knocked the breath out of him sometimes.

He wished he could do something,anything to talk to her, but he cowered every time.

One particular Day,she had it rough, when the day ended he saw her throw herself on the bed,and pass out shortly after.

Hed got her some chocolates and roses, left them there in her room as she forgot to lock the Window,he left them on her desk, silentely stepping out and closing the Window.

--Good night dear...--he smiled under his mask.

Jerico woke up by the licking of her pet dragon she sits up hugging him--mornin...

The dragon squeaks and she looks at the desk, finding the gift someone left for her, walking up to it she reads the note attached to the box of chocolates "I know you had it rough yesterday, I hope this helps, I know nobody gave you flowers before... I hope todays better.

-W "

Who could they be? How did they gor in there-- im...such...an...idiot-- she locked the Window and put the flowers in a base filled with water.

After eating breakfast she sat on bed, laptop on her lap, writing the next chapter of her second Fantasy novel.

Unkown to her, her savior did enjoy her first book.

Now rorschach wasnt a Man of fiction, but her writing was just so catching and interesting.

So here he was drinking coffee while Reading on his kitchen, princess sitting on the table eating her food.

He found out she was a writer when he snucked into her home and found the first book of her novel, "the clan of the Rose dragon" he decided to buy his own copy, and he was enjoying it very much.

That same night he did his patrol and stopped in jericos home.

There he was, hand on the glass, wishing he was there cuddling besides her, specially tonight,a very cold and rainy night.

-- are you gonna come in or Will you Keep there brooding

Seeing her Open her eyes while talking to him makes rorsarch jump back, she opened the window-- come on its cold outside

--i uh...didnt mean to bother you

Jeri chuckles-- nonsense, come on

He steps in taking off his trenchcoat, he sits on the chair right infront of her desk, she sits on the edge of the bed--thanks for making sure im always safe ror

He smiles at the petname,--just making sure that creep isnt around to harm you

She chuckles--y'know...I was thinking...I got some roses and chocolate the other week, did you get them for me?

Hes surprised,howd she knew?-- yeah...--he said scratching the back of his neck -- howd you figured?

-- well...youve been brooding in silence these nights...and the roses and chocolates...I just figured...I liked the detail, thank you

--im glad you like them...

Both stay in silence,he then looks outside and yawns.

--Want to stay the night? Its too late

He snapped his head to her -- what?

--want to stay the night? Its late, and youll catch a cold,cant have my savior sick -- she winks at him and he looks away with blush creeping up his cheeks.

--i uh..I dont wanna bother but...if you insist I can take the sofá

--no no..come here stay in the bed, its warm already, ill take the sofá in case you want to take your mask off, to give you privacy

Normally anyone would kill to see his face..but there she was, geniunly respecting such boundary.

--dont do that, ill take the sofa its your bed...besides I know I wont get too much sleep

She got into bed and patted the space besides her-- come here then,lets share

Hes taken back, jumping slightly in his Seat, blushing red, he was stuttering,she was so beautiful, he didnt know what to do with himself.

--i dont want to look like a creep, its your personal space

-- Its not being a creep if I invite you

He sighed in defeat and took his scarf and shoes off, he locks the Window and draws the courtains laying on the bed with her.

--Night ror-- she said her back facing his.

--night-- he whispered back looking at the bedrooms door.

The Next morning he woke up with breakfast on the nightstand, just a coffee and she made pancakes.

He ate the breakfast with the happiest and biggest of grins, he washed the dishes, hough the sun was already out, he stayed the whole day and at night he would go back home.

Both shared lunch and dinner, not too much speaking was involved, but her presence was soothing.

And now at night he was just about to leave,he hugs her tightly and whispers a soft goodbye.

She caresses his cheek-- come back tomorrow?..

His hand lifted her face by the chin--of course sweetheart --He caresses her Lower lip and presses his lips against her forehead, even while using his mask,the kiss was as if he didnt have the mask on.

He left back home missing her terribly, his lips longed for hers, to hold her, have her wrap her arms around his back...

Rorschach sighed in love, he loved her so much.

So the Next night he came back and as soon as he stepped into her room lifted her up, hugging her tightly and taking off his mask, at least up to his lips to kiss her.

She kissed back and pressed him against the wall where the Window is,he grippes the Windowsill with one hand, the other ghosted her Lower waist as her arms wrapped around his neck.

He parted his lips, she smiled pressing hers against his again, hugging her tightly he drops her to the bed where they cuddle the night away.

Its late, the rain hits the Window and the thunder struck the Sky.

She caressed his cheek, rorsarch sighed--can you promise me something?--he asked.

--Of course...what is it?--she asked leaning in.

--If I take this off, Will you Keep my identity a secret?

She nodded--of course,I adore you too much...id never snitch on you ror

He licked his lips at took the mask off, oh wait, she saw him before, he would follow her around the city,she always knew he was familiar to her in some way,never really knowing what seemed so familiar of him.

She kissed rorsarch holding him close, he hugs her tightly.

-- I love ya so much--he said hoarsely, kissing her again.

-- I love you so much too...ror

He smiled-- my names Walter...you can call.me Walter

She nodded and hid her face on the crook of his neck.

Theyd spend the night like that.

Theyd be okay togheter.

[theseerasures]

Conspicuous Media Consumption, 2020

it’s that time of year again! *saddest toot from the party horn*

for those of you just joining us: it’s a “consume a different content every week for 48 weeks of the year” challenge. for a longer explanation, check out last year’s write-up here, and as always, feel free to pop in and ask questions about any and all of this content.

(same disclaimer as last year too: content for this project ONLY here, and not certain...*looks at my billion Sad Cop Lady posts*...hyperfixations.)

(man remember when i was big into X-Men comics earlier this year? better times than these, if only because no one's discoursing about Emma Frost’s woobie/war criminal ratio anymore--her w/w, if you will)

(...i swear at one point i didn’t exclusively like platinum blondes but alas)

Bitter Root (comic, 1 issue finished 1/1/2020): still very cool on a basic concept level, but runs into the Image Comics problem of just not having enough content to keep my interest beyond that. part of that is on me, for picking it up again BEFORE the second arc rolled out, but the first five issues didn’t really follow (or resolve) any cohesive story either, so...meh.

Immortal Hulk (comic, 3 trades finished 1/17/2020): still not gonna be something i care deeply about (maybe one of Bruce’s Hulksonas dyed his hair???), but i do want to give kudos to Al Ewing for sheer consistency in terms of sustaining this level of quality storytelling month by month for more than two years now. working with the dense archive of the Hulk mythos and managing to make it interesting and thoughtful is impressive even if i personally would not expend the same effort.

Disco Elysium (game, finished 1/18/2020): honestly i should have twigged onto what this year was gonna be like when the third thing i drew from the barrel was pure uncut Eastern European flavored depression. i faintly recall people ragging on it for being pretentiously cynical, but i actually thought its core slid more towards idealism than people give it credit for. also gratified that i haven’t heard anything about Robert Kurvitz using slave labor to finish it, which is a thing we have to say about our video games now!!! fun.

Watchmen (TV, 7 episodes finished 1/27/2020): i am a fool who wants to believe in Damon Lindelof and I WAS RIGHT!!! honestly still cannot believe that he pulled off this highwire act with such deft aplomb. might be my favorite TV this year, which is a pretty high bar given how much TV i ended up watching.

On a Sunbeam (comic, finished 2/1/2020): Tillie Walden rightly deserves all the praise for inventive queer storytelling, but i will say that on reread--since i first read this as a webcomic--there ARE some issues with pacing here that clearly come from the foibles of its original intended medium. still just excellent, even if after some plot significant haircuts i was having trouble telling a few folks apart.

Lazarus (comic, 1 trade finished 2/8/2020): it’s so good and i want moooooorrrreee--though obviously Rucka and Lark have the right to take all the time they need. the newer longer issues work really well with the epic prestige drama vibes of the story! i’m into it.

The Good Place (TV, 4 seasons finished 2/18/2020): i’m gonna be super honest: i actually wasn’t a big fan of the finale, nor the last season as a whole. it felt like all of Eleanor’s flaws vanished for a majority of the season, and the Chidi-centric episode where they tried to give a legible justification for why he’s Like This was...i didn’t care for it. still, it’s so good and unique on the WHOLE that we’ll literally never get anything like this ever again, and that counts for a lot.

The Old Republic (game, finished 2/21/2020): it’s an MMO so it will never actually Be Finished so long as the servers aren’t shut down, but i caught up on the content i’d missed in the intervening months. Onslaught thus far has mostly been...kinda bland tbh; going back to Imps vs. Rebs after all the shakeups in the previous expansions feels like a waste.

High Road (album, finished 2/22/2020): someone should tell Kesha not to say that word!! otherwise i was very happy with this album, and happy FOR her even though we don’t know each other. being able to find joy again in the same genre of music you made while you were being horrifically exploited is very cool.

Young Justice (TV, 13 episodes finished 2/28/2020): given how much the middle stuff dragged--STOP KILLING YOUR HIJABI CHARACTER IN HORRIFIC WAYS--i was...actually kinda mad by how the end managed to stick the landing anyway. the day being saved by Vic’s self-acceptance and Violet’s sublime compassion was A+, and even the Brion/Tara switchup was a pleasant surprise, though it relied on me caring about Brion MUCH MORE than i actually did.

Manic (album, finished 2/29/2020): do people still care for/about Halsey? i feel like even That One Song that was on every tumblr gifset ever has kinda faded into obscurity at this point. this album was...okay. i feel like people give Halsey a pass for extremely obvious lyrical turns that they wouldn’t for other folks because of her subject material--which is fine. not really my cup of tea, but i also listened to lots of Relient K this year, so that’s probably a good thing.

Jade Empire (game, 3/10/2020): the only 3D-era Bioware game that didn’t franchise out, and for good fucking reason!!! the Orientalism and appropriation really haven’t aged well, and even beyond that the story was...standard Bioware faire. even my usual “my wife’s a bitch i love her” Bioware type didn’t do it for me, and i just ended up romancing no one. it did make me think a lot about what level of cultural borrowing is accepted nowadays, and why: people still look fondly at Avatar and talk about how ~accurate and respectful it was, for example, despite it being staffed almost entirely by white folks, and the Orientalism ALL OVER the monk class in DND is still fine for some reason.

Alif the Unseen (book, finished 3/31/2020): interesting to have read this AFTER reading The Bird King last year, because it highlights how the intervening years have shifted G. Willow Wilson’s thematic interest and improved her craft. i’m actually quite fond of how her characterization work is rougher here--Alif is extremely flawed to the point of being insufferable, but it makes his development by the end more satisfying. Dina is also just good and i love her

Baldur’s Gate (2 games, finished 5/31/2020): well, having finally finished the series i’m happy to say that it...still doesn’t really do it for me, sorry. any awesome story moments were overshadowed by the EXCRUCIATING inventory management system and the combat (i still don’t know what a THAC0 is and at this point i’m afraid to find out). these games crucially lack the Home Base that later Bioware games were so good about, and that (coupled with the huge cast of characters you can drop off and never see again) really hurts the intimacy for me. by the time we finally did get one it was the Hell Dimension in Throne of Bhaal, and i was just...trying to get through it. (yes, i did just say that about one of the most beloved expansions ever to one of the most beloved games ever.) THIS particular iteration of “my wife’s a bitch i love her” was very good, but the game wouldn’t let me romance her :(

The Underground Railroad (book, finished 6/19/2020): honestly what is there even left to say at this point! it was exactly as good as every critic on the planet said it was, even with my usual aversion to hype. draining and horrifying in turns but still insistent upon a future for Black folks.

Steven Universe (6 seasons and a mooooooviiieeee, finished 7/11/2020): yes, i DID finish the show and almost immediately begin a rewatch. this series is now one of my top five most formative things, and the amount of love and respect i have for it is incalculable. that said: i once again did not love how the central conflict of Future was resolved (just the resolution--i loved the finale just fine). for all of Steven’s breakdown was built up, resolving it with “EVERYONE HUG HIM UNTIL HE CRIES” felt...cheap, especially since up until this point the show had been so good about treating trauma and mental illness with the respect and nuance it deserves. it made me wish some of the earlier, less substantial episodes had been cut so we could spend more time at the end.

What It Is (comic, finished 8/19/2020): y’all i love Lynda Barry SO MUCH. for the longest time i was worried that One Hundred Demons was more a lightning in a bottle situation but every book of hers i pick up makes me feel obscure emotions i didn’t even realize existed. the compassionate way she’s able to describe her child self and how weird and fucked up she was (and still is) is honestly aspirational.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (TV, 5 seasons finished 9/26/2020): so here’s a reversal of what i’ve been complaining about with other shows: i was mostly lukewarm-to-warm about She-Ra, but the later seasons and the finale made me much more into it as a whole. more shows should improve in stakes and overall quality as they age tbh!! i still don’t actively love Catradora (my sole quibble with season 5 actually has to do with the way Adora kept backsliding as a character to make certain Plot/Relationship things happen), but i’m very happy for them nonetheless. i can certainly appreciate a show that will go for High Feeling over tight plot. dark horse standout moments: trees growing everywhere proving that Perfuma Was Right, and Hordak and Adora seeing each other--that weirdly intimate moment of recognition.

Fetch the Bolt Cutters (album, finished 10/7/2020): again i find myself not having much to say that no one else has said. it’s good! once again love it when an artist reclaims something they’d attached with negative affect (anxiety, depression, disordered eating) for better and brighter things.

Solutions and Other Problems (comic, finished 10/25/2020): i was very into Allie Brosh’s ambition with this book, which feels weird to say but i stand by it. it’s cool to see an artist try to make a new medium work for them instead of just sticking to what already works. not all the experimentation was 100% effective, but it was still delightful and occasionally devastating to read, so.

Legend of Zelda (3 games: Ocarina of Time, Majora’s Mask, Link Between Worlds, finished 11/1/2020): this was the third time i’d played Ocarina of Time, which made it the nice, comforting groove i settled into before Majora’s Mask blatted me in the face. i’m not usually a completionist Zelda person because...the gameplay in Zelda is bad, do not at me it just is, but i really felt like i HAD to be one for Majora’s Mask since the whole point is to get attached to the banalities of the town. i’m sure nobody’s surprised that i loved it, even if it gave me an existential crisis about how life goes on in the game for NPCs when you’re not there to save them from it, and there’s not enough time to save them all all the time (also not a surprise to anyone: Romani and Cremia gave Personal Feelings). Link Between Worlds...bad. not like in a “this is a bad story by every measurable gauge” way, but i was already struggling with the 2D playstyle shift enough that for the whole story to end with some “yes it’s v sad that Lorule is Like This but trying to steal Hyrule’s privilege is Even Worse Actually” noblesse oblige bullshit left a VERY poor taste in my mouth, this year of all years. i did audibly gasp when Ravio took off his mask, though. i’m currently playing Breath of the Wild in cautious increments; it’s the first time i’ve enjoyed early Zelda gameplay, but if they wanted fully voiced cutscenes i wish they got voice actors who...knew what words sound like.

folklore (album, finished 11/6/2020): my belief that Taylor Swift is Just Fine continues, i’m afraid. i LIKED this album, don’t get me wrong, and respect her constant drive to innovate, but i didn’t love it substantially more or less than any other Taylor Swift album. mostly i’m just tickled by how she thinks leaning into the indie aesthetic means borrowing Vita Sackville-West’s entire wardrobe, though i will admit to feeling Something when she swore in a song. i think it was like. savage vindication?? you go ahead and swear, Taylor Swift. you deserve it.

Shore (album, finished 11/19/2020): do people still care about the Fleet Foxes? i think there was some Drama with Josh Tillman a while back but i don’t remember where the discourse landed with who was being more problematic. it was nostalgic for me to listen to their new album--made me remember being an undergrad who exclusively listened to men who mumbled and played acoustic guitar all over again.

Star Wars (3 movies: original trilogy, finished 11/27/2020): there is So Much bad Star Wars these days that every time i rewatch the original trilogy i’m afraid that they will suddenly be bad, but guess what! they’re not. i love these children and their hot mess stories, i love that Lando doesn’t know how to say his best friend’s name. what stood out to me this time was the way Obi-Wan described the Force in A New Hope, which strongly implied that ANYONE can be Force Sensitive; that obviously faded with each subsequent movie, but part of me does wish they’d kept it.

X of Swords (comics, 22 issues finished 12/5/2020): i am enjoying Hickman’s X-lines!!! not so much here for the Grand Conspiracy or whatever, but the character work and highkey weirdness is fabulous--they FEEL like X-Men, despite all the shakeups in-universe. this crossover is a nice microcosm of all that: grandiloquently all over the place, but still full of cool standout moments and genuine hilarity. ILLYANA DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO SPELL MAGIC.

Fire Emblem (4 games: Sacred Stones, Path of Radiance, Radiant Dawn, Awakening, finished 12/14/2020): this was the thing that i was closest to giving up early on, but i ended up hyperfixating on it instead. that’s a credit to what the gameplay does to my lizard brain more than anything else, because the story and character writing is...insipid. it was very bizarre to witness this franchise blunder around with its animal-people racism allegory around the same time i was getting back into RWBY, and ITS animal-people racism allegory blunders. Awakening was the first time i felt anything for the franchise beyond “teehee red units disappear make exp bar go up and brain go ding,” so i’m excited for more mature storytelling in subsequent games (they MUST get better. they MUST). the child husbandry thing is...very bad tho, and Apotheosis being “challenging” entirely through the game changing all the rules is also bad.

once again no vidya games that came out this year--i’ll probably pick up Spiritfarer or Hades after the New Year, though (or maybe TLOU II! but probably not. sry Laura and Ashley). more TV and franchises this year, which made me feel In Touch with the Children but was also kinda exhausting. nothing was so egregiously terrible i dropped it without finishing! in a year like this that feels almost like an accomplishment

[trashmouth-tozier89]

Welcome to the Loser’s Club, Asshole! - Ch.1 | T W O

Warnings: swearing, a very mild sexual innuendo - everything you’d expect with Richie

Word Count: 3,740

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader, Platonic!Stan Uris x Reader

A/N - second chapter of my first series! i’m really liking the way this is turning out, considering i’ve never written a rewrite of a pre-existing movie/book! i’ve not planned what each chapter is going to contain, so i’m praying this works out in the long run. if you haven’t noticed, i don’t particularly have a schedule for publishing these chapters, but i am just trying to get them all out as soon as possible so it can be more of a binge read than having to wait :/

If you wish to be added to the taglist, send in an ask or pop it in the comments! :)

Welcome to the Loser’s Club Asshole Masterlist 

“Take everything but the Delicious Deals, guys. My mom loves ‘em” Eddie instructed as Richie swung the kitchen cabinet doors open with full force, taking out whatever food he could find. “Hey! First you said the Barrens and now you’re saying the sewer. I mean, what if we get caught?”

Eddies seemed hesitant, his words coming out in whispers towards the end of his sentence. Eddie was rather obedient when it came to authority; he didn’t like standing up to people he thought were right. But Bill had insisted the sewers were the perfect place to search for the missing 7 year old, so he tried his best to convince Eddie; “We won’t Eds, the sewers are p-p-public works. We’re the public, aren’t we?”

“Hey, Eddie, these your birth control pills?” Richie pitched in, pointing to the bottles of pills which filled a whole cabinet; he smirked at the joke, proud like he always was.

“Yeah, and I’m saving it for your sister. This is private stuff” Eddie retorted, Bill sniggering in the background. The boys went to leave the house, and head to the Barrens, before being stopped in their tracks by Eddie’s mother.

“Eddie bear, where you boys off to in such a rush?” She spoke, in such a sickeningly sweet tone; anyone could tell she was disguising ill intentions. Sonia Kaspbrak was the kind of mother who was very protective over her child; Eddie could never go anywhere without some kind of interrogation. That’s just the way it was in the Kaspbrak house. They boys stood silent for what felt like minutes, but thankfully was only a few seconds, trying to piece together an excuse. There was no way they could tell her they were going to the Sewers, she’d have gone berserk.

“Um… j-j-just my backyard Mrs K” Bill stuttered out, thinking up something on the spot, “I got a new-“

“A new croquet set. Jeez, spit it out b-b-b-Bill” Richie chimed in when Bill was unable to finish his sentence; Bill wasn’t always the best at lying to peoples face, but that was practically Richie’s talent.

“Okay” Sonia wasn’t sure if she believed them or not, specifically whether she believed Richie or not, but she accepted it anyway because surely her son wouldn’t lie to her. “Oh, and sweetie, don’t go rolling around on the grass. Especially if it’s just been cut. You know how bad your allergies can get”

“Yes Mom – let’s go” Eddie practically whispered, wanting to leave as soon as possible; he didn’t exactly like his mother like most children should. It was a complicated relationship.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Eddie knew exactly what his mother meant by this, and so huffed loudly while approaching the woman who was slumped down in her armchair, planting a small kiss on her cheek. He knew he was going to be the pit of Richie’s jokes for the next hour or so, especially considering Richie was now sniggering rather loudly from the hallway.

“Do you want one from me too Mrs K?” Richie chuckled, but before he could even look in Sonia’s direction, Eddie was shoving him out the door chanting “No, no, no”. Thankfully, Richie was out the door in seconds, so Eddie quickly apologised and shut the door behind him.

***

“Mom, are you in here?” Y/N shouted as she walked into the backyard shed, hoping to find her mother in there considering she was nowhere else to be found. With the house all furnished and looking like a real home now, Y/N was starting to feel a lot more settled in and like Derry was where she had lived her whole life. Her mother had even agreed to let Y/N turn the backyard shed into a birdwatching hut that she and Stanley could spend their time birdwatching in; it thankfully had a window at the back which looked straight into the forestry behind the house, so all it would need was a little makeover and it would be perfect.

“Just here, love. What do you need?” she shouted back, watching Y/N’s face light up as she entered. Y/N’s mother had spent the last hour or two painting the walls of the shed green so that no bird would be afraid to fly near it. It wasn’t the way she wanted to spend her first day in Derry, but when she heard how excited Y/N was when she got home and exclaimed she had made her first friend and that they had bonded over birdwatching, she was more than happy to help her daughter make friends.

“Can I spend the day with Stan and his other friends?” Y/N questioned, a spring in her step at the idea of spending the day with her newly found friends; though she had realised she only actually knew Stan’s name. She just referred to the other 3 as ‘the short one’, ‘the one with the stutter’ and ‘the cute one’. She wasn’t really sure why, but she really hoped that the cute one would be there when she met up with them. There was something about him that made her want to get to know him.

“Of course love, but be home by 5 at the latest” she answered, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek and sending her on her way. Y/N rushed out to the front of her house, waiting patiently for Stan and the rest to arrive after agreeing on the phone the night before that he would meet her at her house. Only after a few minutes of waiting around, she heard the skidding of bike wheels against the tarmac road before looking up to see the boy with the stutter slamming down his brakes.

“H-h-hey” he smiled, looking your way and then behind him to see the three other boys speeding down the road at a speed nowhere near as fast as he’d been going. Y/N giggled at the sight of the boy’s faces of annoyance.

“Slow down Bill, we can’t keep up!” Stan yelled, slowing down once he got in front of you.

“Don’t blame me, blame Silver!”

“Yeah Stan, it’s not Bills fault he finishes fast” the boy with glasses shouted as he too pulled up, shortly followed by the short one. Y/N let out a small snigger at the boys joke, and he looked to her with a smirk on his face, while the others looked at her like she had just committed a crime. Not many people laughed at his jokes, and when they did it was usually out of pity, so it was nice for him to receive some admiration. “I don’t think I ever properly introduced myself; Richie Toziers the name, and doing voices is my game”

The boys all rolled their eyes at Richie’s poor attempt of a British accent, but Y/N chuckled rather loudly at his introduction. She liked his humour, it was unlike any she’d heard before, but that was in a good way; it was funnier than she’d heard before. She shook his hand, but instead he went to kiss it gently as if she were a princess.

“A-and I’m Eddie.” The small one chimed in from the background, a wide grin on his face as he looked at her. She smiled back, sending a small wave over to the boy who instantly sent one back, blushing a little. Eddie seemed quite shy, she realised, but that wasn’t to say that was a bad thing; she’d just have to let him warm up her a little.

“It’s lovely to meet you Eddie. And you’re Bill” she grinned; looking towards the boy she’d heard the name of a few times already. He nodded, smiling back. Bill always loved making new friends; in fact all the boys did, so she was more than welcome to join the Loser’s club. “I’m Y/N L/N; I moved to Derry a few days ago.”

“A-are we ready to go?” Stan urged, finding it a little awkward that he had just been standing here for the past 5 minutes while the other 3 boys practically drooled over Y/N; he understood, she was pretty, very pretty indeed, but at least he was able to control himself. He did find it rather amusing how hung Richie was; he would normally have been spurring out vulgar comments and pickup lines by this point, but he hadn’t said a crude joke at all, well not to Y/N. The thing was, he didn’t want to scare her away; Richie had a tendency of being too loud and vulgar most of the times, and this tended to earn him eye rolls and scoffs instead of laughs. His jokes were purely his humour, and most people didn’t have the same humour as Richie.

“Bill decided the Sewers would be better to look” Eddie mentioned, considering both Stan and Y/N hadn’t been there that morning to hear the conversation. Stan was fine with it, he didn’t really want to be searching for Georgie in the first place and either way they were splashing around in shitty water. Y/N, however, responded with a look of disappointment and… worry?

“Is that okay, Y/N?” Richie asked rather quickly once he noticed the look on her face; admittedly it was a little embarrassing for him but he didn’t want Y/N to feel uncomfortable- seriously, what was happening to Richie?

“O-oh, yeah it’s fine. I just, I wouldn’t have worn once of my nice dresses if I knew we were going to the sewers…” she muttered, playing with the hem of the skirt adorned on her body. She wanted to impress the boys, specifically Richie, so she wore one of her cuter dresses that she thought made her look nice. Why was she trying to impress the boys?

“You could go ch-ch-change if you want, we have all day” Bill offered, but she could tell his face was desperate to get going and searching for whatever it was they were looking for.

“No, that’s okay.” She grinned, not wanting to hold the boys up. They all mounted their bikes, while Y/N stood awkwardly, until they noticed she didn’t have her own bike. She had never been much of a bike rider in her childhood, so she never saw the need to waste her pocket money on one.

“You can ride on the back of mine, if you want?” Richie offered, cheeks blushing as he noticed the boys were sniggering; it wasn’t loud enough for Y/N to hear, but Richie had. He couldn’t comprehend why this girl made him feel so nervous, when usually he was what he liked to a ladies man. After watching the boys mock him, he tried his best to make them shut up by adding a Richie quirk to his question; “That is, if you can manage to keep your hands to yourself, sweetcheeks”

“I think I’ll manage that just fine, thank you” she smirked back, climbing onto the back of the bike and wrapping her arms around the boy’s waist, watching as the other boys laughed at Richie’s expense. She felt him clench slightly as she touched him, but she thought nothing of it; however, she had begun to feel a little guilty for what she said. As Richie and the others started cycling to the destination, Y/N felt it needed to apologise; “I’m sorry if that was rude”

“It’s all good, sweetcheeks. Maybe you could make it up to me later” he quirked up, his confidence suddenly skyrocketing when she giggled softly into the crook of his neck. He was glad she found his jokes funny; it meant he wouldn’t have to hold back from being himself to impress her, even if he didn’t know why he wanted to. Probably just because she’s knew to the group, he thought to himself, yeah that’s why.

“Oh yeah, and what would that entail?”

“Well, you’d come around to my house, because my parents won’t be in. I’ll take you up to my room and-“

“Beep beep Richie” Stan shouted from his bike in front, stopping Richie from finishing the awful sentence considering he knew Richie would happily have gone into full detail of their sexual escapades, and Stan didn’t want to hear that. Thankfully for the rest of the ride, the group were silent, and it only really took them 5 minutes to arrive at the sewer entrance.

***

“That’s poison ivy, and that’s poison ivy. And that’s poison ivy” Stan stated, pointing at almost every plant and tree they passed walking down the riverbank.

“Where? Where’s the poison ivy?” Eddie hesitated, being the germaphobe he was. He searched every plant, inspecting them to ensure he was in no danger. There was no way Eddie was going to let himself get a rash from poison ivy; he could probably catch one just from standing near it.

“Nowhere, not every fucking plant is poison ivy Stanley!” Richie complained, rolling his eyes in the direction of the two boys who he knew were panicking over nothing. Stanley looked over to Y/N for some backup, and after inspecting the bigger plant closely, she easily confirmed it was, in fact, not poison ivy. One thing Stanley had learned about Y/N so far was that along with birdwatching, she was an avid nature lover; she could name a plant just by its leaf or a butterfly just by its wing.

“Okay, well I’m starting to get itchy now and I’m pretty sure this is not good for my-“ Eddie started complaining, before Richie cut in again; “Do you use the same bathroom as your mother?”

“Sometimes, yeah”

“Then you probably have crabs” Richie retorted, stepping further into the sewage pipe with Bill far in front of him. Y/N had followed suit, forgetting all about the dress debacle she encountered earlier; she’d have never got to do something like this back in her hometown, she wanted to seize the moment.

“That’s so not funny”

“Aren’t you guys coming in?” Richie turned around and asked, seeing Stan and Eddie still lurching at the entrance of the sewer. They were hesitant, extremely hesitant, to go any further than they already were.

“Uh-uh, it’s greywater” Eddie shook his head, gulping in disgust from even the sight of what Bill, Richie and Y/N were treading through.

“What’s greywater?” Y/N questioned from next to Bill, looking worried that this may have been a mistake after all. And Eddie’s answer proved her correct.

“It’s basically piss and shit, so I’m just telling you; you guys are splashing around in millions of gallons of Derry pee. So…” Eddie pointed out, and watched as your face contorted into one similar to his; disgust. Richie on the other hand, had waded the end of his stick in the sewer water and lifted it up to his nose to sniff; “Are you serious? What are you—“

“Doesn’t smell like caca to me, senor” Richie retorted in a poor Spanish accent, if you could even call it that.

“Okay, I can smell it from here”

“It’s probably just your breath wafting back into your face.” Richie responded, making Eddie huff in annoyance.

Eddie took a deep inhale, trying his hardest not to freak out at Richie’s utter stupidity; not being very successful in his attempts. “Have you ever heard of a staph infection?”

“Oh, I’ll show you a staph infection” the boy in glasses retorted quickly, still messing around in the water with the stick he was holding. Eddie was not giving up on shaming Richie at all; “This is so unsanitary. You’re literally; this is literally like swimming inside of a toilet bowl right now. I mean, have you ever heard of Listeria?”

Richie chucks an old plastic bag on the end of his stick which had been floating in the shitty water towards the smaller boy, eliciting a loud scream and a very harsh response: “A-Are you retarded, you’re the reason why we’re in this position right now-“

“Guys!” Bill shouted over, interrupting the smaller boy and earning the attention of all 4. When they all looks over, they saw Bill holding up a shoe; Richie, Stan and Eddie were able to understand exactly what this may have meant, but Y/N was no clearer.

“What, what is that?” Y/N questioned, searching the boys faces for answers; Eddie looked disgusted that Bill was holding it with his bare hands, Richie looked sad as he readjusted his glasses, and Stan looked scared. But none of them were answering her question, and it was getting on her nerves.

“Shit. Don’t tell me that’s…” Stan trailed off, not wanting to say the name, but Bill caught on quickly.

“No, G-Georgie wore galoshes.” Bill spoke sadly, thankful it hadn’t been his brother’s shoe. Y/N was still searching for some answers, and when no one spoke for a second or two, she took the opportunity to try and find some; for all she knew, ‘Georgie’ had simply lost his shoes recently while playing in the sewers, and Bill was trying to find them. That was the only reasonable explanation.

“Okay, guys, can someone please explain what’s going on? What exactly are we looking for down here, and who’s Georgie?” She asked, trying not to show her slight anger at being ignored, but her tone implied very obviously that she was impatient for an answer. However, the boys were left speechless; none of them wanted to tell Y/N about Georgie in case Bill wasn’t ready for her to know, but they knew Bill would struggle to talk openly about it. He hadn’t even been able to admit verbally that the boy was obviously dead.

“G-g-g-Georgie wa-is, is my brother. H-he went missing a few months ago, but I know he’s down here somewhere.” Bill answered quietly, watching as the girls face dropped from anger to sadness within a second of hearing the word missing spill from the boy’s mouth. Oh, she thought, that’s why we’re down here. We’re searching for Bill’s missing brother. Dead brother – there was no way he could’ve survived down here for months. As she looked at Stan’s face, she could tell they knew Georgie was dead too, but she couldn’t say that to Bill.  

“I-I’m so sorry Bill, I, I didn’t know. We’ll try our best to find him, okay” she assured, making her way over to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He nodded slightly, sending her a sad but grateful smile. The tension was as awkward as it could’ve been, until Eddie brought the attention back to the shoe.

“Whose sneaker is it?” Richie and Y/N both leant over to inspect the inside of the shoe that Bill was shining his torch light on. It read very clearly, written in a black marker, B.RIPSOM. Y/N’s mind was cast back to the school day, where she heard another girl murmuring about someone named Betty Ripsom who had gone missing weeks before; they talked about it as if it was normal, something that didn’t even matter. At the time, she thought it was just a myth or a story she had made up, but now Y/N understood it was real. She peeked to watch Richie’s breath hitch in his throat before announcing to Stan and Eddie; “It’s Betty Ripsom’s”

“Oh, shit. Oh, God. Oh, fuck! I don’t like this” Eddie swore, feeling himself beginning to panic.

“How do you think Betty feels? Running around these tunnels with only one frickin’ shoe” Richie joked, hopping to mimic the action described. Y/N slapped his arm harshly, sending him a look which clearly said that’s not funny, dude. When he noticed he was in fact the only one laughing at the joke, his face dropped immediately.

“What if she’s still here?” Stan proposed the idea, watching as the 4 considered the suggestion. After a second, Bill and Richie carried on down the tunnel, flashlight in hand. Y/N was much more hesitant now, not wanting to go any further in the case of ending up like Betty. Or Georgie.

“Y/N, Eddie, come on!” Richie shouted without even looking back.

“My mom will have an aneurysm, okay, if she finds out we’re playing down here, I’m serious. Bill?” Eddie complained, waiting for some voice of reason for Bill considering he usually had the good ideas. Although, Eddie was beginning to think that today, he didn’t have the good ideas.

“If…If I was Betty Ripsom, I would want us to find me. G-g-georgie too.” Bill answered back, trying to convince the other boys and girl that this was important for him, and Betty and Georgie. He wasn’t doing this for fun, or to splash around and play, he wanted to find these people and restore them justice. And to prove that Georgie was alive.

“What if I don’t want to find them?” Eddie spoke up, earning the attention of the others. Y/N was rather shocked, but she agreed; she hated to say it but finding them would most likely end up with them going missing, and she didn’t want that. “I mean, no offense, Bill, but I don’t want to end up like G… I don’t want to go missing either”

“He has a point” Both Y/N and Stan spoke at the same time.

“Y-y-you too?” Bill stuttered out, and she could tell his heart was breaking at their words.

“It’s summer. We’re supposed to be having fun. This isn’t fun. This is scary and disgusting” Stan complained, his voice cracking on almost every word. Before anyone could say anything more, the sound of a splash behind them caught the attention of all 5, turning to see the source of the commotion. Y/N was out the sewer in an instant, stopping by Eddie and Stan’s sides to try and catch a glimpse of what may have been making such a large splash.

Their eyes landed on a boy, around their age, thrashing around in the water. He had attempted to stand up, before falling again.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” Richie shouted, and it was at that point Y/N realised what was wrong. The boy turned his head to face the crowd, and Y/N saw he was bleeding from his nose and stomach. Y/N sprinted over to the boy, Stan and Eddie following suit, to help him up. He had some serious injuries, and she could not figure out how we had a ‘H’ carved into his stomach. That was, however, when it clicked in her head.

Henry Bowers.

[yeojaa]

SUGAR HIGH, chapter ix. (w. JJK)

You're not entirely sure when it happened, though you'd come to terms with it. You'd counted the days, waiting for the inevitable. You'd truly thought you'd be okay, but by the broken, half-beating thing in your chest - you knew you'd never really been prepared.

alt summary.  You thought you’d known real love and maybe you had - it just wasn’t with who you thought.

pairing.  jeon jungkook.  mentions/involvement of ot7.

tags.  angst, break up, post-break up, comfort, OT7, slow burn, friendship, moving on, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, emotional baggage, fluff, canon compliant, jeon jungkook is bad at feelings, jeon jungkook is a good friend, jeon jungkook is a sweetheart.

rating.  general (for now?)

word count.  ~2250

chapter 9.  No Limit in the Sky

You should've had I love you stamped on your forehead in bright red ink.

You still think he's joking when you find your words.

How had he even had a chance to ask?  You'd been standing right there as he and Hoseok had chatted, the former thanking the idol for dropping by the class.  The spots were always filled right away, he'd said.  People just wanted the chance to see him in person.

"What?"  It's smaller than you mean, and flat.  You're not quite sure how you feel.

"He messaged me when we were on the way back."  The carrots are done and he's moved onto slicing green onions, thin fingers gliding the edge of a knife through the ends.  "He's really nice, but I didn't give it to him. I wanted to ask you first."

"Well, um."  The flesh of your cheek aches, you realize.  You've been chewing it with a vigor you can't control.  Nervous habit.

"I don't think that's really appropriate." 

Your eyes snap to the new voice, surprise colouring your expression and slipping into the fall of your mouth.  Taehyung's carding a hand through his hair, smoothing it away from his forehead uselessly before it's fallen right back into place.  "She's probably not ready for something like that and it's not fair to put that pressure on her."

You're not sure whether you want to kiss or thank him, so you remain silent instead, lips pursed.  Jungkook's thumb taps gently against the side of your face - a reminder to stop biting your cheek before you can't eat dinner.  You stop almost immediately, hand of your own reaching to hold his own delicately.

"Hyung's right," your best friend chimes. All three scowl - who's he referring to?  "She'll never say no, but she'll be uncomfortable."

"I'm right here, you know." You finally huff, growing annoyed by the way they're all talking about you as if you weren't right there. You knew they were only looking out for your best interests - which, in some ways, they knew better than you did - but it was frustrating nonetheless. 

Neither man seems bothered by your reproach, Taheyung already turning his back to peek around Seokjin's shoulder.  On the other hand, Jungkook squeezes your fingers once, twice, three times.  A silent apology dating back a decade.  

Mi-an-hae.  One squeeze for each syllable.

"You can give it to him."  You ignore the surprise written in the faces you can see and can only imagine the expressions on those you can't.  "But maybe just tell him I've just gotten out of a relationship?  I don't want him to expect anything."  Or hurt me so soon after, you don't say.

Hoseok's the only one seemingly perfectly okay with the idea.  "Okay, I will."

At the dinner table, surrounded by the most rambunctious men you've ever met in your life - it's chaos.

Hoseok and Namjoon are laughing about something in between bites, the former's eyes disappearing when the latter says something particularly funny, dimples on full display.  

Further down the table, Yoongi has the largest pile of skewers beside his bowl.  In fact, you don't think you've seen him put down his chopsticks the entire time.  He's been happily munching away, engrossed in the salty, fatty goodness while his members have indulged in conversation around him. 

Two seats away, Taehyung is quietly shovelling food into his mouth, only ceasing repetitive motions when Jimin is proposing a toast.  It had started reasonably  - to Bangtan, to ARMY, to our families - but it had since descended into madness.  Now, he was chanting about mini race cars and the high quality meat of tonight's meal, prompting Seokjin to join in. 

"I think you need to catch up."  You're swallowing around a mouthful of rice before speaking, wiggling your eyebrows at your best friend.  While it seemed everyone was enjoying themselves, he'd been curiously taciturn.  At first, you'd chalked it up to him just being hungry - as he always was - but you weren't so sure anymore.  That worried you more than it should.

You'd known him for so long you considered him the other half of your whole.  With that came an innate understanding of each other - or so you thought. 

"I've had more than them."  The two empty soju bottles beside him are raised for your inspection.  "I'm just better at holding my liquor.  I'm JK, after all."  He's mirroring your earlier expression, eyebrows disappearing into fluffy strands.  "Why - are you trying to get me drunk so I spill all my secrets?"

You laugh at that, reaching your free hand up to gently assault his chin.  "Maybe.  You never know what you could be hiding from me!"

That I love you.

Because that's exactly why he isn't indulging in the way his hyungs are, carefree as can be in the comfort of their own home. 

He's already spent the better half of his life fighting the feeling.  As he sits there, warmth of your thigh pressed to his beneath the table, he has to claw back the words that threaten to spill forth.  He has to make a concentrated effort to not linger too long on your lips or the pretty blush that soaks your cheeks in pink.  He wishes he could leap headlong into the sound of your laughter that curls like the peel of a Christmas orange and sinks into his senses. 

Would you take it well?  Would you be shocked and leave?  Or would you be the thing he most feared - contrite, apologetic, as you tore his heart in half? 

Losing you would be one thing but pity - that would destroy him.

So, instead, he scowls at you, nose wrinkling in that patented Jungkook way, and shoves a carefully constructed wrap of goodies into his mouth.  He chews languidly, staring you down the bridge of his nose, and you're a second away from squeezing his cheeks.  

"I don't hide things from you."  He says it simply, dismissively, once he's swallowed.  You hated when he talked with his mouth full.

"I know.  I was kidding."

Maybe it's just the alcohol talking or the devil on your shoulder that speaks so sweetly you can't hear anything else.  There's a ringing in your ears and a soft, fuzzy feeling like you're looking through a snow globe.  You know you're not drunk - far from it - in fact - but there's a pleasant buzz coursing through your body, every nerve lit up like a Christmas tree. 

It's the way Jungkook's looking at you, like he can see right through you.  Could he?

You try not to wilt under his stare, suddenly feeling far too warm.  Fingers twist and turn in your lap, chopsticks and shot glasses long forgotten.  Should you get up?  Surely, he feels this too, electricity crackling between you like a live wire surging from the tips of your fingers to the balls of his feet.  If he can't feel that, then it must be evident in the careening pitch of your laugh, strange even to your ears.  You were so terribly, miserably obvious.

You should've had I love you stamped on your forehead in bright red ink.

But if he does, he says nothing, finally tearing his gaze from yours.  He rises from his seat, holding up empty bottles in a universal question and chuckling to himself when no one reacts.  Except you, that is, but he can't look at you again.  Not right now, when his heart is hammering so hard in his chest he's afraid it's going to burst out like some terrible cartoon sketch. 

"Do you want some help?"  You're offering softly, hopefully, with no ill-intent.  But it burns him to his core, because your words are like a melody he'd listen to forever, a siren song he'd gladly drown for.  Don't you know what you do to him?

Jungkook's halfway to the kitchen before he's answering.  "No, I'm good."

You spend the rest of the evening weightless, feeling like you're floating on cotton candy clouds.  It's a curious sensation but nonetheless welcome.  Anything to distract you from the thoughts that have chosen to make a home of your head, pervasive notions that flit around your mind like an irksome fly.  Why was he the only thing you could think about now, of all times?  Why hadn't you had half a decade to break these dreams into fairy dust?

Oh wait - you had.

Because these were the same daydreams you'd carried with you since you'd realized that maybe, just maybe, you liked Jungkook as more than just a friend.  They hadn't just come out of nowhere, though you'd shout yourself hoarse with the insistence that they had.  The emotions were tied to memories, ones that played against the back of your eyelids like a highlight reel while you slept. 

Flash.

The anniversary of your mother's passing.  Your father but a shell of the man he'd always been.  A star whose light had gone out.  He'd been despondent leading up to the day, forgetting about things that he never would have otherwise.  You'd been hungry for longer than you cared to admit, searching for food in the cupboards that housed ghosts and little else.  You'd carefully spooned soup into your mouth, hesitant to take too much from the thermos you brought to school daily.  You hadn't thought anyone would notice how tired you were, how you barely perked up when the rest of your classmates were sprinting across the lawn to play.  But Jungkook had noticed and from then, he'd always packed a little extra in his lunch.

Flash.

His fourteenth birthday, complete with a homemade cheesecake and four candles.  You'd bought him a new headset, giddy with pride when he'd torn it out of it's careful wrapping.  You hadn't even cared that he'd completely missed the card taped to the front, his name scrawled in neat pink gel ink beside a lopsided heart.  Things had been rough for a little while - the life of a trainee, after all - but it had been all worth it to be able to celebrate this with him.  Even if it'd cost you more than you wanted to admit, it was all worth it to see that smile on his face.  

Flash.

"You did it!"  You weren't sure when he'd gotten so much bigger than you, the top of your head barely clearing his chin.  Hadn't it just been months ago when you'd both fit into your double bed with room to spare?  When had his shoulders turned into an impenetrable fortress, the slope of his jaw all sharp angles?  He'd hoisted you into his arms like you weighed nothing, swinging you around like you were a child.  You'd told yourself the flutter in your stomach was from the centrifugal motion and not the way you were so close you could see the galaxy reflected in his eyes.

Flash.

You knew how hard he'd fought to meet you there, standing off to the side of arrivals.  There'd been a black mask shielding his face and a baseball cap low over his ears, the hood of his sweater bunched up around his neck.  It was supposed to be inconspicuous but there'd been something about him that immediately drew your attention to him.  You refused to believe it was just you.  (Yeah, you weren't touching that with a ten foot pole.)  

The relief was instant when you'd cleared the wall of people, all in various stages of euphoria as their loved ones came staggering back into their lives.  You'd caught his outstretched hand in your own and squeezed tightly, mirroring the smile you knew was hidden from view.  It hadn't been a hug but it was enough.  "Welcome home."

Flash.

His face in low-res pixels, signal not quite strong enough to translate the movement behind his camera.  You could barely make out the figures behind him but you could feel the elation rolling off him in waves, pieced together by the flash of his teeth and his whoop of excitement.  "We did it!"  He'd all but shrieked, nearly prompting you to rip your headphones off. 

"I know - I knew you would!"  Jungkook was over the moon, a shooting star with no end in sight - so when he'd blown a kiss to the lens, you tried not to think about it.  This was everything he'd ever wished for, manifested in a single magical night.  He couldn't be held responsible for the ache in your heart.

Flash.

You're not sure how long you've been lost in thought, staring at some undefined point on the far wall.  Lips are parted, a little dry and a little bruised from the worrying you've done like second nature.  When you realize you're spacing out, you're renewing your assault with renewed vigour.  Why was this happening?

"Everything okay?"  It takes you a minute to realize it's directed to you - or even that someone is speaking at all.  The words don't make sense at first, unfamiliar syllables taking a second to sink in.  You wonder, briefly, why Namjoon's speaking English, his warm gaze kind and expectant.  He's closer than you'd realized but still politely removed, comfortable in his own little square of the couch.  He looks tired but content, satisfied. 

You mull over his question, turning it on its head over and over again.  Were things okay?  Were you okay?  "I'm not sure," you finally relent.  It seems too big of a question to answer, like anything you say won't necessarily be true.  

"That's okay."  He's rising to his full stature, posture relaxed and head cocked, glasses just barely off-skew.  "Let's go talk."

You don't even hesitate to follow him out of the room.  Maybe this was what you needed.

notes.  please enjoy this tooth-rotting fluff as an apology for how dumb these two are.

[trash-flavored-writing-blog]

Masterlist Time~~~

So now I have a masterlist?? And I’m gonna keep up with it fingers crossed

My Hero Academia 

Bakugou

Bakugou’s S/O’s Little Brother Being Taken Hostage (Fluff, angst) : Bakugou and his S/O take care of (Y/N)’s little brother and they decide it’s a nice day for the park. But a certain villain decides to fix that...

Bakugou Saves a Waitress S/O & Finds Something Along the Way (Fluff, first-meeting) : Bakugou takes his chance at an old-fashioned diner and meets an ill-tempered but well-meaning waitress. He finds himself interested in them.

Bakugou with a Cinnamon Roll S/O (Angst, FLUFFFF) : Bakugou doesn’t know how to handle such a tooth-rotting sweet S/O, but he figures it out eventually. He couldn’t be more grateful.

Bakugou’s S/O in a Coma (Angst<3) : Bakugou and his S/O fight together to win the safety of the city, like they always do. Except this time, his (Y/N) doesn’t go back home in Bakugou’s arms the night after. A single phone call from the hospital could either break or make him.

Relationship HC’s (Fluff for cotton candy) : Bakahoe in a relationship is a passionate relationship.

Todoroki

Relationship HCwi’s (Fluff to rot ur teeth) : Todoroki is precious in a relationship.

Todoroki Meeting A Very Down (Y/N) for the First Time (A smidge of angst, Fluff, Drabble) : Todoroki grants (Y/N)’s wishes, even without magical fairy godmother powers. Or a very grey reader makes a wish to be not so grey anymore and Todoroki just so happens to appear. They get along pretty well.

Midoriya

Midoriya w/ an S/O Who is Bakugou’s Sibling (Fuffff) : Midoriya spends after school with his S/O behind U.A. The whole under-a-tree-and-together-alone thing is romantic, until Bakugou’s sharp hound nose sniffs them out and interrupts it to kill your boyfriend.

Relationship HC’s : A cinnamon roll in a relationship. 10/10.

[pokeshippingflashfic]

Askfic off the top of my head. Someone calls Misty a harpy after she scolds them for mistreating... ?

“Jeezus, you’re a real class act, huh?”

“Excuse me?” the redhead shrieked in a somewhat breathless tone, arms somewhere between crossing defensively over her chest and posturing before her, fists instantaneously ready to physically defend herself.

“Yikes, I wish I’d known before I left town that I was gonna need earplugs today. What a drag…” the opposing young girl shrugged with a hint of a snide smirk. 

“Look, just ‘cause you wanna turn around and insult me for calling you out doesn’t mean I’m gonna walk away and pretend I didn’t see what I saw!”

“And if you’d look, you’d realize that what you saw is none of your business anyway, okay? So why don’t you just turn your scrawny self around and get outta here! These are my Pokemon and I can train them how I want!”

Misty scowled, fingers itching to grab the girl by her neck and wring it until she was more disposed to listening to a more knowledgeable person’s advice.

“I’m telling you as someone who’s seen it before, treating Magikarp like this is dangerous.”

“I have no reason to trust you just because you say you know better! I caught these Pokemon myself for the sole purpose of evolving them! A full team of super strong Gyarados on my side? Hardly anyone will stand a chance!” the young female trainer guffawed. 

An overall distant memory of being stranded at sea with some of her worst enemies and, at the time, more acquaintances than friends fluttered to the top of Misty’s mind. Their raft capsized and she was overcome with cold, dark, and loneliness. 

This was followed by a somewhat more recent recollection of her first day as the covering Cerulean Gym lead trainer, trying her best to tame the territorial and abandoned Gyarados her sisters had left behind when they went on their voyage.

Now, months later, she was finally able to spend a few days with her friends again, had escaped Team Rocket’s latest mon-napping attempt or few and found an opportunity to relax, only to stumble on a stranger using pseudo-abusive training to force their Pokemon to evolve as fast as possible. She was only supposed to be refilling the group’s canteens again for the rest of the night!

Her wary gaze dropped sympathetically to the rather pathetic looking three water-types flailing uselessly in the stream before her, a somewhat aggressive electric-type Misty loosely recognized from the Hoenn region named Electrike posturing on their haunches between them with electricity crackling around its head.

By the time she’d shaken herself from her reverie and returned to the present, the younger lass had turned haughtily on her heel and appeared to be preparing her electric-type to attack her other Pokemon again.

“Wait!” the redhead cried desperately, one step taken instinctively forward even with her arms full of canteens dangling from their straps. But what else was there to say? Other than looking temporarily the worse for wear, the three Magikarp didn’t seem to be malnourished, ill, or afraid. And though the voice in the back of her head was still demanding her warning be validated, another part of her wondered if the girl was right. What business was this of hers?

“Misty? I thought that was you!” a familiar voice called out from somewhere behind her.

“Oh, Ash–”

“–Ugh, now your dumb friends are butting in?!”

“Mwah?!” Ash replied, dismayed at the slight to his ego immediately after his arrival, clutching the firewood he’d offered to gather more tightly in his arms.

“Look, I’ll tell you what I already told her! I can train my Pokemon how I want! This was my plan from the start, to toughen them up and push them to evolve! I’m not doing anything wrong! And you!” she rounded on Misty once more, Ash forgotten in the background though he still appeared to be trying to piece one and one together, frantically glancing between the two girls. “Why are you still even here, you harpy?! Screeching and wailing for me to do what you say?! I don’t owe you such courtesy! I don’t even know you so I have no reason to listen to you!”

“Wha - hey, wait a sec!” the younger male trainer shouted obstinately now before Misty’s fiery spirit could kick in. And to her (rather pleasant, if she were being honest) surprise, Ash leaped in front of her as if to protect her from anymore emotional damage. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on but Misty was probably just trying to help! … Uh, right?” he finished awkwardly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

The redhead found herself nodding mutely, still shocked at his apparent chivalry. Glancing past him, she saw the female trainer gritting her teeth, brow furrowed, mortified at what probably felt akin to two strangers ganging up on her. And it hit her instantaneously that she’d found the source of the opposing girl’s bitterness.

Maybe if I try a softer approach?

“Look, I know it might not mean anything…” she began calmly and swiftly, unceremoniously dropping her armful of canteens to the ground and taking a cautious step forward, “but I’m actually a gym leader from this region.”

“Pssht, yeah right!” the lass responded stubbornly, arms crossed defensively over her chest. A few seconds passed before she glanced suspiciously at her would-be attacker, “… Which gym?”

“Uh, in Cerulean. The gym belongs to my family. My name is Misty.”

Perhaps it was the city name or the sound of the redhead’s identity sounding semi-familiar but the girl responded with sudden embarrassed comprehension, though she quickly stifled it so nobody would notice.

“W - well, even if that’s true…” she stuttered instead, gaze alternating between aversion and boldness before she trailed off.

It took every ounce of Misty’s willpower not to roll her eyes. She was finally making progress though so she couldn’t forfeit now.

“I li - love Pokemon but… water-types are my favorite. I’ve always liked them most of all and my dream is to eventually be the best water-type master trainer in the world,” the redhead continued, taking another discreet step forward and offering a halfhearted glance in the direction of the group of Pokemon in the background.

“I know how important it is to be the strongest. The best. I mean, even at home, I wasn’t allowed to help with the gym until pretty recently. And if I really plan to be a master, I know… that there’s a lot I still have to learn and do to prove myself to everyone. But…”

“Ngh…!” The girl was very clearly going through an internal struggle.

Finally facing her supposed adversary, Misty took a firm hold of the other girl’s hands and tugged softly, enough so they were inclined to look each other in the eye.

“… But finding shortcuts like these, though tempting, never ends well. I’ve seen newly evolved Gyarados create storms and wreak havoc intense enough to almost kill people. I mean, I have a Gyarados now myself!” And, before the girl could interrupt, Misty went on, “But the first time we met, he tried t - to drown me.”

She was faintly aware of Ash, still relatively close in case things escalated again, straightening his back, breath caught in his throat at this news. Her story also appeared to have quite the effect on her intended audience, as the young lass before her stared wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape.

“Gyarados are violent and impulsive, instinctive and distrusting. If you really want a whole squad of them to help you prove yourself in this world… then you need to put in the work too. It’s the only way you’re going to earn their loyalty and respect.”

Things were awkwardly silent for the following minute or so. Making one last effort to break the tension, the redhead pulled her hands away long enough to rummage in her bag, removing a small spray bottle and holding it out.

“Here’s a super potion. It may not be enough to get your Magikarp all back to perfect health but it should help for now if they share it. And, for the record, you were right. None of this here is really any of my business but… I guess I just hope you’ll make the right choice in the end.”

The trip back to their group’s campsite roughly ten minutes later was steeped in pregnant and tense quiet murky enough to almost bowl her over. Misty had walked a few minutes away after their conversation to finally complete her task of filling canteens and hadn’t had the nerve to check back in with the girl before returning to their friends.

She could only wonder if she’d really gotten through…

Ash’s pace slowed, he fell a little further in step behind her, but intended to follow through with his inquiry anyway.

“So… that story about Gyarados nearly drowning you? Is that… I guess that’s true, huh?”

Her step faltered too, mind racing as she contemplated her response. Part of her had expected he wouldn’t ask, another part had expected he might even if it would be hard to talk about.

“Uh… yeah.”

“Oh. I guess… when we met him in Hoenn, I didn’t… get that impression. He seemed so…”

“… Loyal and respectful?” she volunteered with a knowing half-smile. “Well, how else would I have known what to say before? Trust begets trust and love begets love. It’s a good lesson to learn, Mr. Pokemon Master.”

“Does stuff like… like that happen often since returning to Cerulean?” he went on, and Misty blinked, impressed by his curiosity.

She was very briefly overwhelmed with memories of her other adventures; PIA Agent Joy secretly inspecting her gym, those awful brothers from Viridian stalking her and seeking vengeance, being attacked by Pokemon and Team Rocket on several occasions…

“Well,” she offered with the faintest giggle, and Ash was grateful for the cover of darkness hiding his flushed cheeks, “no more often than when we traveled together for sure.”

“But that was different!” His response was automatic, almost oversensitive. She hadn’t expected them to talk in such detail about this situation. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d get a rise out of Ash like this. She was torn between taking offense or having her uncertainty put to rest.

“Oh yeah? How’s that?”

She wondered, albeit briefly, if he was about to blame himself somehow. Alas…

“Because! We had each other then, didn’t we? But now that you’re home…” he trailed off, looked at the ground before kicking a pebble in frustration. Where were the words he needed? And the courage to say them to her for that matter! “Now… we don’t… you don’t have me, ‘yknow, there.”

He was suddenly feeling quite overheated, cheeks and neck and ears uncomfortably toasty after his confession.

“… Oh.”

Well, that was unexpected.

“Y - yeah, so you need to take better care of yourself from now on!” he practically yelped in complaint before stomping forward and passing her by, still refusing to look her in the eye in case she noticed his predicament.

... Hypocrite! she replied internally, surprised that it was accompanied by a suppressed bark of laughter as she picked up the pace to rejoin him. 

A good thing too because apparently their conversation wasn’t over.

“That all being said… I think ya handled that really well back there. These kinds of situations can be tricky…” To conceal his lack of breath at such flattering commentary, he continued rambling, “Uh, what’s it called? Like a gray area? It reminds me of when we met AJ right after we first started traveling together.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess it’s sort of the same, huh…?” she replied softly, almost wistfully. “Still no way to know if I made the right call… But I think I did what was best for her and her Pokemon so that’s… really all that I can expect of myself.”

They were one wall of foliage away from their friends now. Ash had resorted to awkwardly clearing his throat, refusing to look her in the eye. Misty, unsure if it was the frustrating prospect of being cornered by a curious May, Max, and Brock later over such odd behavior, or else an impish streak hoping test Ash’s patience one last time tonight, or even the genuine friend in her hoping to give a little something back after all the emotional intimacy he’d bared for her this evening, decided to go for it.

“Y’know Ash, I think you handled yourself well tonight too.”

He stared blankly back at her, one brow just beginning to furrow as he begged the question, “Uh… I did? How?”

She felt an instant warmth spread from her chest to her limbs, heartbeat so violently loud she could feel it pulsing in her fingertips as they unconsciously twirled around a particular canteen strap from anxiety. Still, the memory of Ash stepping to her defense and placing himself between her and any perceived threat had been quite the romantic experience. Not to mention the other precious pieces of himself he’d proffered over the past hour or so…

“Oh, I mean, it’s nothing much. I just wanted you to know that I’m grateful you showed up tonight, I guess. Now let’s get back. I’m surprised they didn’t start looking for us after all this time!” And they crashed unanimously through the underbrush, stumbling back to their destination for the night, one final thought crossing Misty’s mind.

With Ash’s heart sewn so loosely on his sleeve, it was quite easy to tell even after all this time… exactly how he felt about her.

[Btw, my intention was that this fic took place during the short time Ash and Misty travel together again with May, Max, and Brock after Ash’s return from Hoenn.

Btw x2, if you’re so obliged, please reblog this fic and spread news of this blog. I know posts are slower now, work is hectic and I don’t have as much time to write, but I would like to get some more fic requests. Every time I ask lately I’ve only gotten 0-1 at a time.]

[kasienda]

Stutters - A Miraculous Identity Reveal

Adrien could not stay focused. His skin itched in agitation and he kept fidgeting in his seat, glancing backwards forlornly at the vacant desk behind him. He tried again and again to find a comfortable position or at least force himself to follow the text Ms. Bustier was reading aloud, but it was a lost cause.

Marinette was still absent. This was the third day.

He missed her. Class wasn’t the same without her soft whispers to Alya behind him or her tendency to make word salad whenever he looked in her direction. Her presence made him smile. Made him feel warm. Made him feel safe.

And clearly he couldn’t function properly while filled up to the brim with anxious worry.

He had asked Alya about Marinette twice in the last two days. The first day she had shrugged, as mystified as him. On the second day, she had smirked, her honey brown eyes twinkling in amusement.

“If you’re so worried, Sunshine, you should text her yourself.”

He had blushed and turned back around, determined to get his chemistry work done. He fought with his brain for an hour and then his worry overcame his embarrassment, and he had texted.

She had never responded.

Read on Ao3 Read on FF.net

He had planned to ask Alya again before class, but she had arrived uncharacteristically late. He hoped that meant she had checked in on Marinette.

He turned to Alya the second the bell signaled the end of class. “Have you heard from Marinette yet?”

Alya winced. “She’s really sick apparently. She caught the flu that’s been going around. She can’t get out of bed without hurling. Sabine warned me to stay away for my own protection.”

Adrien sighed. First, Ladybug had asked him to take over her patrols because she was ill, and now, Marinette hadn’t made it to class the whole week! This flu was beyond cruel in its choice of victims. Adrien could not think of two people less deserving of the sickness’s wrath.

He knew he had no way of visiting Ladybug, but perhaps he could swing by Marinette’s.

He shook his head at himself. Sabine was probably right. It was better to stay away. With Ladybug out of commission, he couldn’t afford to get sick himself. Hawkmoth might have been quiet the last few days, but he couldn’t count on that to last. And he had to be prepared to fight alone.

That conclusion was easy to reach. It was rational and pragmatic. It’s what Ladybug would have advised him to do, but when his normal patrol route brought him just two rooftops away from Marinette’s balcony, he could resist peeking in on her.

Her form lay curled up in the fetal position surrounded by a nest of pillows and blankets. She was asleep, but even unconscious her looked pale and waxy. He pulled back from the little round window feeling guilty for invading her privacy and witnessing her in this moment of weakness. He wished he could do something to help her feel better.

He was about to vault away when his eyes landed on the terrace garden filled with potted plants. The normally vibrant green leaves were drooping down as if they, too, were mourning the lack of Marinette's presence in their daily life. Upon closer inspection, Chat Noir discovered crumbly and dry soil in each pot. He knew almost nothing about taking care of plants. Gardening was something his father would hire someone for. But the heir to the Agreste fortune did at least know they needed water.

He clapped his hands together with a grin. This was something he could do.

It didn’t take long to find her watering can and fill it up at the nozzle located on the lowest part of the wall in the balcony’s corner. He added small amounts of water to each clay pot, only then noticing that each home was carefully hand painted with flowers and vines or little hearts and stars. His favorite pot showed off little black kittens chasing flying ladybugs.

Marinette really was amazingly talented.

She also tended to a huge variety of plant life. She had herbs, vines, grass-like stalks, and he knew from experience that there should have been flowering buds, but they were sealed tightly closed refusing to flaunt their bright colors for all the birds and bugs to see. He knew that gardening was difficult and that each plant probably needed something slightly different.

He glanced back through Marinette’s round window, to her very still roll on the bed. He had never seen her so still. Who knew when she would be able to make it out here again.

After he was finished watering, he cut his patrol short and headed straight home. Chat Noir had research to do.

It turned out that potted plants needed fertilizer or some kind of plant food to reintroduce nutrients into their soil. But different varieties needed it with varying amounts and frequencies. He didn’t know all the plants Marinette had, but he supposed the next day he would have to take pictures of each one and come home to identify them so he would be able to find more specific care instructions.

It did seem that most plants did well with water in the morning and/or evening because in the middle of the day the wet leaves could fry in the hottest part of the day. And apparently, over watering was a danger as well.

And some plants needed regular pruning.

He glanced through his schedule. If he got up an hour earlier than Nathalie’s scheduled wake up call, he would have time to take pictures of and water all of Marinette’s plants and be back in his room with ten minutes to spare.

Then, he could spend all of his free period with the pictures identifying what they were and put specific care instructions for each one in a document that he could send to his staff and refer to whenever he needed to.

Quickly stopping by Marinette’s as Chat Noir in the morning and evening had quickly become part of his routine. His secret gardening consoled some restless part of his soul. He was able to peek in on her and feel like he was helping in some small way.

He could even focus in class again. In fact, he had to be insanely efficient with his time in order to complete his homework, fill his modeling obligations, go on a daily patrol, and stop by his favorite balcony. Somehow, he pulled it all off smoothly each and every day, and the twice daily stops were quickly becoming his favorite parts of the day.

It was peaceful and colorful now that the flowers were willing to show their petals again. He had long since stopped feeling self conscious amongst the plants. He talked and sang to them. His research had said that also would help them.

Really he shouldn’t have been surprised when she caught him on the fourth day.

“Kitty? What are you doing out there?”

Startled at her sudden presence, he dropped the cap full of miracle grow onto the ground with a curse. The green liquid spread out across the deck, seeping into the panels of stained wood. He looked around rapidly for some kind of towel to soak it up. He knew the stuff was toxic to many birds and he wouldn’t want them to get sick because of his carelessness.

“Uh, hey there, princess!” He greeted distractedly as he mopped up his spill. “Are you feeling better?”

He glanced up at her then and smiled. Her eyes shined with their usual vibrant blue, and she had just a hint of color in her cheeks. In short, she looked healthy again, and he could not be more relieved.

“Loads,” she answered with a friendly smile. “I might even be able to make it back to school on Monday. Were you watering my plants?”

His gloved hand flew unconsciously to the back of his neck. “Uh yeah. Watering.” He pointed to the plant he had just given the plant food. “And the Internet said that this one needed fertilizer every other day and yesterday, I pruned this one because it was looking crowded. I hope you don’t mind. I heard you were sick and when I was passing by on patrol I noticed the plants were looking a little dry. And I thought it would be such a shame if your garden took a hit just because you were ill. I know you love it up here.”

He eyed her warily trying to gauge her reaction. She wouldn’t feel irritated at him invading her space, would she? His form loosened in relief when she only smiled again.

“That was really thoughtful Chat Noir,” she said, as she took a seat on one of the balcony’s chairs. “Thank you. I didn’t realIze you gardened.”

Heat rose to his face. “I don’t really. Never done it before this week actually.”

“But then, how did you know about the pruning and the fertilizer?”

“I… uh. I kinda looked it up?” he admitted, jumping into the seat behind her to hide his embarrassment. “I really just looked up how much water to give, but then it gave different directions for different plants, so I had to come back and take pictures of each one, so I could look up directions for each one.”

“Y-you t-took the time to identify each plant?!” she repeated, her eyes blown wide, staring at him in surprise.

“Well, I didn’t want to do it wrong and then ruin the garden I was trying to save for you,” he said.

“Th-that’s… you… that was so yind of kew. I mean! Kind! I meant kind of y-you. Y-you definitely didn’t h-have t-to do that.”

The teenaged hero frowned at her stutter. She only stuttered around Adrien.

“You okay princess? Maybe you should go lie back down.”

“Y-yeah, you’re nice… I mean, right. You’re right. I should back lie… I mean lie back down.”

Chat hovered behind her ready to catch her should she stumble or fall. Watching her go down the ladder was the worst, but she made it without the slightest sway and cooperatively climbed back into her bed. He brought up the blankets to cover her and she gathered them in a cocoon around her.

“W-will you come back tomorrow?” she asked with pleading eyes. “J-just time one… one time.”

“Anything for you, princess.” He winked as he leapt agilely up the ladder and back into the balcony.

He bounded away towards home, trying to puzzle out her new behavior. Had he done something to offend her? Perhaps she thought it was creepy that he was right outside her bedroom window every day, twice a day. He really hadn’t thought this through at all.

He tried to ease the anxious mental spiral. He was probably overthinking this. She was sick after all. That was probably why she was stuttering.

He came back the next morning, and she had croissants fresh from the oven and steaming tea ready for him. She had already taken care of the plants. He tried not to be disappointed by this fact. He had enjoyed tending to the delicate life forms. It was nice to work at creating something for a change.

“These are amazing,” he gushed, after taking his first bite. Really the buttery confections never got old, especially when he was hardly allowed simple carbs. “My compliments to the baker! You really didn’t have to feed me though you know.”

“I w-wanted to say thank you,” she stammered, her face blushing in red.

“You look so much better with color in your cheeks,” he told her thoughtlessly. But he really had been worried about her.

Her eyes turned away as her cheeks somehow became even redder. “I r-really meel fuch better!” She managed. “Much better!! Gah!” her face fell into her hands in embarrassment.

This was way too familiar. This was how she acted around Adrien all the time. His mind spiraled into the worst possible explanation and he felt the blood drain from his face. He dropped the croissant, that was now forgotten in his lap.

“How did you figure it out?” he made himself ask.

“F-figure what?”

He leaned forward and took her hands in his own. “You can’t tell anyone,” he beseeched. “Please, Marinette.” He pulled back again, and dragged his hands through his hair. “God, Ladybug’s going to kill me.”

“Chat calm down,” Marinette urged, her delicate fingers rested hesitantly on his shoulder trying to reassure him. “It’s okay. I would never tell anyone anything if you don’t want me to.”

His eyes flew back to hers and he felt a bit calmer in her gentle blue gaze. Marinette was trustworthy. He knew that better than anyone. “I hope you’re not mad at me.”

“W-why would I be mad?”

“Sometimes it just seemed so two faced to come here as Chat because you treated me so differently as Adrien.”

She stumbled backwards and fell over the chair. He rushed over to her and helped her up.

“W-what?!” Her scream was shrill. “You’re Adrien?!”

Once they were both standing steadily she hit his arm. Hard.

“You stupid cat! Why would you tell me that?!” Her stutter had vanished, he noted. And she was angry. Very angry.

The air rushed out of his lungs and he blinked at her as her words registered. “I thought you knew?”

Now, Ladybug was really going to kill him. It was bad enough when he thought that Marinette had him figured out, but she hadn’t. He had just blurted it out like an idiot.

“Based on what?” she demanded.

“You’ve always been awkward around me as Adrien. But you’re so sassy and confident around everyone else. Even Chat Noir! Maybe especially Chat Noir. But when you started mixing up your words around Chat the same way you do sometimes around Adrien, I figured that you had me pegged.”

She looked like she had been hit by a train. She just stared at him.

“You literally only treat Adrien that way,” he added, mostly to break the silence.

“That’s not... I don’t...” she spluttered.

“If you hadn’t figured it out, why did you start treating Chat Noir differently?” he asked. “You don’t like him either? Has he done something wrong?”

“You think that I don’t like you?” she whispered. Her voice sounded so small, so far away.

He winced. “I mean, not exactly! You just seem so nervous a lot of the time. Am I that frightening or intimidating?” He was started to panic down another spiral. That he realized it didn’t help him at all.

…

Marinette could see that he was freaking out. Adrien was standing there in front of her, only he was Chat Noir. And she wanted to process that. She needed to. But she couldn’t. He was hurt. And she had put that hurt there.

Before anything else, she had to fix that.

Marinette took a breath, stepped forward, and gently enclosed his clawed hand into her own, trying to communicate what she’s never been able to put into words.

His green eyes swivelled back to her, swimming in confusion, begging her to explain. Because he still didn’t understand.

“I... I...” she stammered. She inwardly cursed her inability to communicate with him.

This time, he squeezed her hand. And she drew courage from that. This wasn’t just Adrien. This was Chat Noir, and yes, she had just figured out that she loved him as his superhero self and that made her nervous. But he was her partner. She trusted him more than anyone else on the whole planet. He had proven time again that he would protect her life. Maybe it was time to let him protect her heart as well.

And however this is going to go, he would be gentle with her.

“Adrien has made me nervous for a long time,” she admitted staring down into their clasped hands. Somehow it was easier talking about him in third person even though she knew she was talking to him. “It’s not because he’s scary or famous or that I don’t like him... quite the opposite in fact...”

She glanced up, the green sclera opened beseechingly. He waited with so much patience.

“I’ve always stuttered or mixed up my words around Adrien because... I was...” she licked her lips, fidgeted from one foot to the other, and glanced up at his face again. “...in love with him.” She rushed the words out. Part of her felt more anxious than ever. But she also felt lighter, freer.

“I always behave that way around boys that I like...” she admitted, and looked down again as heat bloomed in her face and neck.

She glanced up again. Chat... no, Adrien looked like he had swallowed a melon whole. His eyes were wide, his grip on her hands tightened, and she was no longer certain he was even breathing.

“Please say something,” she begged, wringing her hand even though he still held it.

“You... you love Adrien?” He whispered.

“That’s what I said.”

“And-and you started mixing up your words around Chat because... you like him too?”

She nodded, her cheeks burned hotter than before.

“You fell for both of me?” It was like he couldn’t believe it.

And then, his eyes watered.

“Please don’t cry kitty,” she begged, wiping a fallen tear from his black mask. She had never seen him cry before in either persona. She didn’t know what to do.

He pulled her into a hard hug, his arms swept around her and he pressed her form into the hard leather of his catsuit. Soon, he was balling into her shoulder.

Marinette let herself melt into his embrace, tracing soothing patterns onto his back. She was still unsure how he felt about her confession, but she was determined to be there for him.

He finally quieted, and with one last comforting squeeze, he pulled away. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I’m crying. I’m so embarrassed.”

“It’s okay,” she soothed.

“You’re just so amazing, Marinette. I don’t know that I could ever deserve you. I don’t know what someone like you could ever see in someone like me. And that you do see something in both sides of me, that means a lot to me. You are so kind. You have no idea how much I admire you!”

Marinette felt like she might break from the growing tension - like a violin string pulled too tight - ready to snap. Listening to him gush was amazing, but she still couldn’t tell if he was letting her down easy or preparing for their wedding.

The silence grew and Marinette couldn’t take it.

“So... does that mean?” she prompted.

“Would you like to go on a date?” he blurted.

And just like that, the tension eased as if it had never been. And she started giggling.

“I would love that kitty. What did you have in mind?”

“Umm... is it okay if it’s a surprise?”

She rolled her eyes. “Sure, but don’t go too crazy A-Adrien.”

“You called me Adrien,” he said gleefully.

“I-I did.”

“Plagg, claws in.”

And there he was standing in front of her, his white overshirt over his usual black t-shirt. His face bare and without a mask was as familiar as her partner’s. Her nerves exploded again, and she couldn’t speak.

“You still okay?” He asked with a small smile that spoke with the gentleness of a butterfly’s wing.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. He glanced at her lips. “M-may I kiss you?”

She nodded and just before their lips touched, her eyes landed on Plagg. Who floated ominously over Adrien’s shoulder with a cold glower directed right at her. And she understood. This was unfair.

She stopped him with a hand to the chest. “No wait!”

“Something wrong princess?”

She closed her eyes, and drew in a deep breath. Apparently, the call for bravery was not over.

“Before you kiss me,” she began, drawing comfort from the hand that remained on his chest. “Before you agree to date me or be my b-boyfriend.” Could it be any hotter up here?! “I h-have to tell you something.”

He pulled back and waited. But she didn’t speak. “Whatever it is, I’m sure that...”

“Please, let me say this,” she begged. “You need to know! Plus, Plagg may cataclysm me in my sleep if I don’t come clean.”

“Plagg?” Adrien repeated in confusion, turning towards the floating Kwami of destruction. “How do you know Plagg?”

She sighed. “We’ve met. A few times actually. He uh... he helped me defeat Style Queen when you lost…” she trailed off. Adrien had been Style Queen’s first victim. Of course, Chat Noir hadn’t been so irresponsible as to lose his miraculous. “No, when you had turned into a statue. And during Sandboy we collaborated a plan together.”

“Plagg helped... you.” He repeated slowly. He licked his lips. “He helped you... defeat Style Queen.”

He was staring at her in shock and for once she held his gaze. She had to.

“M’Lady?”

She nodded.

“Really?!” He was grinning like a cat who had fallen into a vat of cream. He picked her up by the waist and twirled her around. “This is perfect!” He laughed, his mirth spilling over into the very air around them.

“It is?” she asked, not quite sharing in his joy. “You’re not mad at all those times I rejected you for... well, you?”

“Marinette, I did the same thing to you when you confessed to me as Chat Noir.”

“I mean, it’s not the same thing! I confessed under false pretenses. You’re not mad about that either?”

“Wait! False pretenses?” He froze and considered her for a moment. She tried not to fidget in his green eyed gaze as he put the pieces together. “I almost stumbled onto your identity that day… you didn’t love me.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t admit it, no.”

“You did it to distract me.”

“Yeah…”

He looked away, lost in the memory. “I was so excited that day. That was the first time I had received a genuine confession.”

“A-are you mad?” she asked, anxiously pulling at her sleeve’s hem.

He just grinned and shook his head. “I might have been at some point. Now, it seems kinda funny.”

He broke into giggles and she did too.

“Too bad you didn’t figure it out,” she managed between giggles. “Maybe we could have saved ourselves months of chasing each other’s tails.”

“Goodness, we are so stupid,” he drawled out.

“Blind,” she corrected with a soft smile.

“What?”

“You were never stupid. Tikki says love is blind.”

TIkki flew out at that exact moment. “Hello Adrien, it’s nice to see you again under better circumstances.”

He smiled at the red kwami. “Likewise,” he agreed, with a small nod. Then he turned back to Marinette.

“So... can I kiss you now? We have Kwami approval?” Tikki looked pleased and Plagg shrugged as if to say “if you must”.

“M’lady?”

She nodded.

His lips pressed into hers. And it wasn’t how kisses were in stories. There were no fireworks. She didn’t feel like her feet left the floor. If anything, it was awkward because neither of them could stop smiling long enough to really let their lips melt into the other.

But that was okay. They now had all the time in the world to practice.

Marinette jerked away. “You shouldn’t be kissing me actually.”

“What?” He went rigid in her arms, clearly worried he had done something wrong.

“I don’t want you to get sick,” she observed worriedly.

He relaxed his forehead against hers and smiled again. “I don’t care about that.”

“You say that now. This bug knocked me out for a solid week and I’m still shaky.”

Adrien did get sick two days later. Ladybug brought him broth. She knew from experience that he wouldn’t be able to hold anything else down and even the broth was a toss-up.

“I feel awful,” he complained to her.

“I told you,” the heroine quipped without sympathy even as she nestled down next to him in bed.

He just leaned into her presence, his eyes remained closed. “It was worth it,” he told her. “I have no regrets. If I die from this, I will die happy.”

“No!” She barked in objection. “You have to live forever!”

He laughed weakly and then started coughing instead. When the coughing finally subsided, he threaded his fingers through hers. “I promise I will, Buginette. That, or I will die trying.”

She nuzzled against him, and released her transformation. She couldn’t ask for better than that.

“See that you do, kitty. See that you do.”

He started purring, and they both promptly fell asleep. Marinette still hadn’t entirely recovered from her own illness after all, and the worst had yet to hit Adrien. But they would weather it together.

…