#stop reading kids' books and then complaining about the fact that they center kids and let kids be the heroes

[roguelibrarian]

"I want more YA stories where the adults are the ones saving the world so that the kids don't have to." Adult fiction what you want is adult fiction and at least half the shelf space in your nearest bookstore and local library is dedicated to it.

[fintan-pyren]

Sometimes, life is busy. You shouldn't let that stop you from enjoying a good book, but who has the time to read the same words over and over again?

For your enjoyment and convenience, I have removed all duplicate words from the first Keeper of the Lost Cities book.

blurry fractured memories swam through sophie’s mind but she couldn’t piece them together tried opening her eyes and found only darkness something rough pressed against wrists ankles refusing to let move a wave of cold rushed as the horrifying realization dawned was hostage cloth across lips stifled cry for help sedative’s sweet aroma stung nose when inhaled making head spin were they going kill would black swan really destroy their own creation what point project moonlark then everblaze drug lulled toward dreamless oblivion fought back clinging one memory that could shine tiny spot light in thick inky haze pair beautiful aquamarine fitz’s first friend new life ever maybe if hadn’t noticed him day museum none this have happened no knew it’d been too late even white fires already burning curving city filling sky with sticky smoke spark before blaze miss foster mr sweeney’s nasal voice cut blaring music he yanked earbuds out by cords you decided you’re smart pay attention information sophie forced open not wince bright fluorescents reflected off vivid blue walls amplifying throbbing headache hiding sweeney mumbled shrinking under glares now staring classmates pulled shoulder-length blond hair around face wishing hide behind it exactly kind went way avoid why wore dull colors lurked blocked other kids who at least foot taller than survive twelve-year-old high school senior perhaps can explain listening your ipod instead following along held up like evidence crime though probably he’d dragged class natural history balboa park assuming his students be excited about all-day field trip didn’t seem realize unless giant dinosaur replicas came started eating people cared tugged loose eyelash nervous habit stared feet there make understand needed cancel noise hear chatter from dozens tourists echoed fossil-lined splashed cavernous room mental voices real problem scattered disconnected pieces thoughts broadcast straight into brain being hundreds tvs different shows same time sliced consciousness leaving sharp pains wake freak secret burden since fell hit five years old she’d blocking ignoring nothing helped never tell anyone wouldn’t you’ve above lecture don’t give asked pointed enormous orange duckbill center how lambeosaurus differs dinosaurs we’ve studied repressed sigh flashed an image card front display glanced entered photographic recorded every detail recited facts twisted scowl classmates’ grow increasingly sour weren’t fans resident child prodigy called curvebuster finished answer grumbled sounded  know-it-all stalked exhibit next over follow thin separating two rooms block muffled grabbed little relief nice job superfreak garwin chang boy wearing t-shirt said i’m gonna fart sneered shoved past join they’ll write another article child teaches lame-o-saurus still bitter yale had offered full scholarship rejection letter arrived few weeks allowed go parents much pressure young end discussion so attending closer smaller san diego college year fact some annoying reporter newsworthy enough post local paper chooses ivy league complete photo freaked wasn’t strong word more half rules unnecessary front-page articles pretty worst nightmare they’d newspaper complain editor seemed unhappy story run place on arsonist terrorizing trying figure mistake bizarre white-hot flames smelled burnt sugar took priority everything especially unimportant girl most ignore or used caught sight tall dark-haired reading yesterday’s embarrassing black-and-white looked seen particular shade teal smooth sea glass beach glittered flickered expression gaze disappointment decide shrugged leaning closed distance between smile belonged movie screen heart did weird fluttery thing is pointing picture nodded feeling tongue-tied fifteen far cutest talking i thought squinted brown uh yeah sure say reason felt conversation accent british somehow crisper which bothered know are suck words soon left mouth course boys cute made mushy perfect returned told hulking greenish standing albertosaurus all its lizardesque glory me do think that’s it’s absurd

isn’t see saw small t rex: big teeth ridiculously short arms fine laughed i’ll get meet turned leave just classes kindergartners barreled fossil crushing screaming knock step whole realm pain kids’ stinging high-pitched needles many once angry porcupine attacking hands darted rubbing temples ease stabbings skull remembered alone reaction locked forehead pained imagined seconds hushed blood drain mean created plenty racket shrieks squeals giggles plus sixty individual chattering away gasped solved earlier everyone boy’s distinct accented speaking totally completely silent possible whispered widened moved whisper telepath flinched skin itch gave can’t believe backed exit reveal total stranger okay holding sort wild animal calm afraid froze my name’s fitz added stepping name searching sign part joke joking thinking wobbled spent seven find someone else world tilted sideways steady here looking twelve we better question: want air jerked bolted door stumbling shaky legs rhythm sucked breaths ran down stairs burned lungs bits ash flew ignored wanted space strange come shouted picked pace raced courtyard base steps wide fountain grassy knolls sidewalk got inside because poor quality footsteps gaining wait pouring energy sprint fighting urge glance shoulder halfway crosswalk sound screeching tires reminded both ways terrified driver struggling stop car plowed right die second blur swerved missing inches jumped curb sideswiped streetlight heavy steel lantern cracked plummeted instincts hand shot pulling strength somewhere deep gut pushing fingertips force collide falling gripping extension arm dust settled floated feel weighed ton put familiar warned bringing trance shrieked dropped without hurtled watch yanking split crashed ground impact knocked tumbled body broke fall landed chest stretched flurry questions swirling coherent idea sat replaying sense need witnessed miracle tighten panic let’s overwhelmed plan resist street reached intersection north zoo where crowd during firestorm running missed hearing changed terrifying scenarios involved government agents throwing dark vans experiments watched road ready bolt anything suspicious zoo’s massive parking lot relaxed outside milling cars happen witnesses slowed walk breath promise sincere easier opened hesitated supposed am trust won’t considered father sent specific age observe report always talk frowned disappointed himself does means expected threw what’s wrong touched eyelids suddenly selfconscious figured again awe us stopped whoa hang ‘one us’ frowning spotted fanny-pack-wearing within earshot deserted corner ducking green minivan there’s easy we’re human stunned speak hysterical laugh escaped repeated shaking riiiiiight insane trusting kicked stomped telling truth minute last listen plea humans vanished gone reeling leaned argued taking clear set pole minutes ago almost three managed finally saying alien erupted laugher cheeks grew hot also relieved compose elf hung foreign object belong visions tights pointy ears danced giggling expect guess stick wavy spikes rock star good crazy agreed refused serious frodo ring save middle-earth toys hid corners showed oh ought folded slender silver wand intricate carvings etched sides tip round crystal sparkled sunlight magic asking rolled actually pathfinder spun latch top dangerous you’ll faded depends take concentrate matter happens proof prove whisk land curious harm someone’s willed palms sweat fingers laced stupid tingled everywhere scanning warning look scowled bit tongue concentrated racing seriously become those silly girls counted raising facet beam refracted tightened grip forward warm tingling million feathers swelling underneath tickling giggle melted goo keeping oozing blanket warmth wrapped faster blink eye might squeaked stood edge glassy river lined impossibly trees fanning emerald leaves among puffy clouds row castles walt disney throw rocks kingdom golden path led sprawling elaborate domed buildings built brick-size jewels each structure color snowcapped mountains surrounded lush valley crisp cool

cinnamon chocolate sunshine places exist less appear forgotten released realized hard squeezing unable castle towers oddly our capital call eternalia heard shangri-la lost cities you’d stories rarely ridiculous things elves burst quiet gentle breeze brushing soft murmur traffic hammering unspoken very silence rising tiptoes view streets ghost town building towered others stones emeralds banner flying tribunal progress everyone’s watching proceedings council basically royalty holds broken law they’re deal laws well shook wrap cringing question funniest glared funny regained control try cling remaining strands sanity sun casting ray onto leaping hitched ride headed impossible infinite travel haven’t theory relativity stumped dumbest i’ve albert einstein huh dumb argue confident unnerving harder waited feather sensation dryer scattering directions until rubber band later shivering ocean whipping glowed carved moonlight failed passed bring herself true science book read confused observed ‘hey learned smug grin best minds begin comprehend complexities reality elves’ ahead slowest trump proper education shoulders sagged sank four scenery blurred whether tears entire lie nudged hey fault believed taught i’d done works bells chimed large gateway floor-length velvet capes draped tunics emerged followed creatures marching military formation rocky pants muscles prominently flat noses coarse gray pleated folds armadillo goblins signed treaty hating trembling dressed forbidden lumenaria worlds gnomes dwarves ogres trolls mentioning focused motioned farther squatting betrayed ancient councillors intelligent rule planning war ancients violence disappeared forbid any contact devices working defend race famine problems chilled frigid wind licking who’d known must’ve after eventually evolved myths simple yes peeked glowing crucial identity clicked spinning thousand loud clang gate stepped shadows sleek cobalt home jolted mom bus bland boring stole incredible blinding swept smoky fresh surprised recognized plain square houses narrow tree-lined house ask lived coughed handle putting pollutes planet these aren’t normal chemical smells usually wildfires smell barbecue melting cotton candy burn rain arsonists admitted pocket hoping notice dad wants knows neither important meant mystery he’s happy careful please shown today thank act family doesn’t suspect squared courage telepaths special ability rarer ones thirteen six months corrected liking youngest manifest start reverberated scanned positive waking hospital moment forget hooked kinds machines hovering shouting barely separate hold happening group adults haunted worry brows narrowed doing extra private keep wall weak hated bossed answering concerned action worked imagining stretching shadow mine blurted pale process hardest worries live fumbled answers long trouble knees link amazing will tomorrow panicked battered cluttered living phone she’s receiver having reeled daggers calling wandering worried police sorry stammered convincing horrible liar scared mom’s anger concern nervously curly guy realizing lies based freaking walked trolley train teacher guard ugh complained closing adult rubbed wrinkle appeared stressed upset safe stand weirdo understood dangers teased tormented bullied deflate wish trailed close rest sister slipped pin painful tight hug welcome honey dinner ten amy upstairs kitchen unease twist stomach worn linoleum pastel tacky knickknacks ordinary glittering kissed cheek shabby briefcase table how’s soybean wink baby apparently pronouncing thousands times lid simmering pots garlic cream filled handed silverware turn crackin’ scooted plopped usual chair nine role mastered opposite lower average grades popularity sisters wondered definitely powers lowered breathing: inhale exhale repeat care nickname dizzy must lay should eat skipping acting fettuccine night favorite rich sauce sudden nausea tug eyelashes chewed bite swallow fork official thanks great homework sprinted bed hiss shattered marty pounding fluffy cat sitting tail slunk settling lap marty’s purring

confront downstairs settle explained blonde chubby brunette screamed throbbed deeper ripped apart blinked related change lots adopted poked brought e l fudges plate cookies milk getting sick palm fever tired cookie stumbled routine crawled blankets wrapping pillow dreams kissing tucked tradition breathe ella yep elephant stuffed sleep tonight um guys hugged tighter hours labor endured switched birth daughter doubt wondering anymore dreamed keebler perfected recipes liked oreos drown vat fudge woke overrated morning quick shower jeans shirt buttery yellow stripes item closet self-conscious wear gold flecks admit clipped toyed lip gloss snuck check crept yard blinking stuck contained next-door neighbor perch middle lawn forkle rearranging garden tableaux nosy checking effect beady bored hers loved sentences complaining 911 obligated gnome fraction inch gives headaches yapping interrupted ball fur streaked barking spandex jogging shorts chased grabbing dog leash clumsy lunge kneeled stroking wild-eyed panting creature drew growled strained mad sister’s hates displaying several halfmoon wounds bleeding scar suppose willing carry blocks seems winked piercing certainly yelled jogger guy’s louder chaos wonder grab drag should’ve trick react stopping tracks side man straightened height quite intimidating ordered glowered promised snorted grumbling moving explaining whenever appearance waiting incident eyewitnesses frustrating confusing bell rang lurking scream demanded loudly heads bad flashing cocky rush blush unanswered tries creepy snatch slow replayed scene remember growling forkle’s quietly quieter we’ll we’d eyeing suspected impending mischief leap english ditch yesterday strangle pull disappearing fail willingly use telepathy brushed whispering pushed further test tested permission assignment frustrated matters invading offense scrunch nod movement nearby oak drowned could’ve sworn jogger’s campus gestured tree either imagine adjusted shouldn’t anyway who’s committee sidelong heat breaking automatically furious enjoyed caused determines grinned future shield surveyed surroundings metal nearly everglen leading doors absorbs directly likes privacy stressful doubted king kong faint click swung inward striking clearing growing midnight cape fastened clasp diamond-encrusted wings lean vibrant resemblance alden introduced bow curtsy shake greet shy pleasure prominent kidding unusual flush smiled embarrassed fire alden’s injury muttered son shared kidnapping considering such might’ve paranoid has touch rude assure love kidnapper searched reassure kindness agree placed gently jacket ticked indeed fascinating sounding triumphant perfectly specifically nexus forgot covered dug cuff coat clamped bracelet wrist twisting fit snug comfortable accessory single jewel rectangle symbols letters spelled gibberish odd decorate finality safety precaution break particles carried concentration circumstances bare early fools overestimate skills fade cautious answered lose yourself able fully reform pulls forever goose bumps dimple cleared throat prefer reproving send mission collect long-lost guests wiped blooming red pink purple rainbow perfume flowers dizzying testing qualify foxfire paused fungus insulted prestigious academy named represents glow darkened comes ‘fungus’ strongest talent kiss goodbye excuse proud attend accomplishment earliest levels develops abilities continue studies elvin sneak work knowingly chills mixed night’s troubling revelation sickening councillor bronte difficult impress feels upbringing lack disqualify surprises existed miffed votes squat brown-skinned huge tended fairy tale plants slantways shuffled carrying basket twinkling fruit guessing pictured men hats statues servants stare choose safer gardens enjoy privileged taste gnomish produce lunch treat dig slimy tubers slugs hoped menu peeled meadow elegant manor entirely intricately numerous turrets gables rose tower resembled lighthouse braided foyer prism widest hallway fountains spouted streams colored water hall dead-ended encrusted jeweled mosaic

diamond unicorns amethyst spoke wealth squeezed formal dining sheer silk curtains drawing chandelier waterfall shimmering crystals platters fancy goblets figures jewel-encrusted circlets plush thronelike chairs surrounding curtsied necks clasps keys horribly underdressed fabrics except disguise kenric oralie football player toothy princess rosy ringlets met smallest cropped features finger pairs floor laughter squirmed joined pleased shape it’ll transformed noticing autorepeat: scooting oralie’s one’s died yet hurt immortal trace sorrow bodies aging reach adulthood wrinkles belongs yourselves guest uncovered grimace strips glop goop tasted juiciest cheeseburger stuff mashed carnissa root umber leaf tastes chicken animals tone ate toxic waste squirming grimaced vegetarians horror vegetables cheeseburgers tells swallowed mouthful thud discussing openly respond kenric’s jaws dry remembering warnings stay begun eight pass mentioned learn relax bronte’s icy gust common announced jaw flushing chagrined incredulous impenetrable key sentence ‘almost breached guilt conscience sounds infallible thinks likely exceptionally lift weight telekinesis recovering embarrassment shrank goblet accident raised lifting invisible scoffed unimpressed limitations unlike physical confidence clue giving blew pretending imaginary extend sharper worth saucers applauded excellent praise couple glasses determined stronger ounce core empty collective gasp including breathed celebrate cramped strain knocking thunderous collision open-mouthed shock hollered sealed clapped language guys’ enlightened leaped instinctive interesting babbling teasing noisy gripped ‘soybean’ mispronouncing blushed chuckled beside dusting waved insisted sighed suldreen stretch line rare species bird puzzle solve uncomfortable coincidence convince decision barked shoving moonlarks vote otherwise fight favor final fragile lovely empath emotions extended grasped delicate fear confusion sincerity describe azure settles revisited till adjust invoke demand probe planned arranged quinlin busy decipher fun training looks iffy ‘bothered’ dad’s reluctant emptiness exploded choked saving colder implications ditched stall punishment atlantis nowhere patch white-capped waves signs seagulls screech poop hardly continent tide pool triangular slip slick shoes match gown begged status noble members nobility offices empire waist beaded neckline dress costume seeing clothes: tunic embroidery edges pockets sewn sleeves exact size sit boots completed thankfully knowing biana comparison changing subject ledge engineered catastrophe compartment revealing bottles label bottle whirlpool uncorked flung blast whipped faces roar churning ladies suggested worse gulped maelstrom beneath salty sprayed jump push count dignity drowning flailing idiot formed tunnel dipping weaving craziest waterslide starting launched vortex sponge licked toe pack kittens minus kitten sprang cushion smoothed wet incoming rocketed slightly squishy packed sand gleaming metropolis dome beyond soared skyline bathing radiating spires network canals interconnected arched bridges pictures venice modern clean despite bottom underwater muted hum background seashell ear build stores power precisely amount changes plated reflect firelight illuminate sink wandered shops renaissance fair women’s gowns shifted advertised two-for-one specials bottled lightning fast approval spyball applications strolled hybrid chicken-lizard invented main canal hailed carriages floating almond-shaped boat rows high-backed benches elbow-length steered bench reins skimming surface eight-foot-long scorpion deadly pincers reared curled sting eurypterid stroked shiny shell eurypterid’s slice emitting low hissing petted harmless carriage quinlin’s yours fiber mutant insect doom probed gritted pressing hideous sonden’s office thrashed heebie-jeebies commute while secure needs protection file highly classified business district windows tracing bearing names treasury registry interspeciesial services unreadable random strings runes nonsense writing

alphabet clueless chin jumble nah affected gap kid option country tests dropping member broad kelp ornamentation precise read: sonden: chief mentalist cube swiped elbow ping assurances humiliating bypassed receptionist dim damp stone desk dark-skinned chin-length seat ceremony unique understatement squirm handing lick dna unsanitary tiniest hologram center: rotating unearthly breathing prentice sacrificed double helixes sacrifice reasons fears hundred seventy-eight murmured began pacing invaded she’ll greatest keeper older midstep record share trained charge protecting currently hidden karaoke game sing off-key notes clearly eavesdropping strip slid winding stairway climbed oval footage brush projected chill aerial southern california lines circle area images deepened valleys ruled reflections note interrupting communicate waving warn turning overreacting glancing shuddered desperate kidnapper’s threatened easily implied nameless faceless entity quickly threatening authorities would’ve shivered accelerant chemicals leads lighting spilling oil blowing investigate council’s position here: takes visit babysitter decent equally spying steam secrecy existence discovered hoax search updated slight bypassing distracted evillooking matches keepers lagoon glint shimmery dunes lake west shore statue topped hollow iridescent film shimmered loop apparatus resemble bubble lifted clung shrieking levitate forming touching bubble’s rumble coming geyser shoot eleven crash below bobbed where’s scary pure joy popped whisked glaring gates flash strode olive contrast youth shone nerve summoning personal shorter intimidated difference sooner exiled clench fists backward tiergan aware opinion summoned convinced tiergan’s fierce crumbled crossing expert inventory widening whatever foxfire’s newest mentor puppy officially weirding becomes provide retired given persuaded return resentment mixture surprise hone assistance reasonable restrictions pretend opportunity silencing bet terrible mood mumbling mostly irresponsible manage choice benefit stares notify dame alina returning kept bruise meantime session listed remedial schedule lessons dummies correct assumption warmed tuesday brilliant panel everglen’s grounds sessions study student subjects one-on-one nerves one-onone succeed mention level grade relearning self-doubt heavier fragmented disappear explanation aside pleasant dis arguing overstuffed armchairs woman squealed snickered wife della pinched gesturing dear vanishers smiling musical hint della’s beauty tossed pursed heart-shaped parents’ combined gangly troll interceded borrow errands frumpy files requested denied request approve grady edaline case torn radiant parcels strobe unwrapped packages clasped cord neck choker pendant elf-y anytime fund’s activated fund register money standard dollars lusters laughing luster dollar crinkled ew insult afford differently limited seventy eighty makes sad curved window overlooking silvery floor-to-ceiling aquarium wingback facing piled books scrolls anxiety remind stacks newspapers circled crossed news removed drawer theories irritation super stuttered discuss faced solution allow ours they’ve effective immediately too-simple accept kick constant discovery longer unbearable loneliness friends grasping overwhelm areas access severely restricted dead deciding gravestones became vivid: grave tearstained draw suffer struck complicated relocated jobs erase tear obvious believing shutting function erased armchair scrubbed forbade sob occurred risking twenty alert plans clothes sees wiping focus bent unshed horrors cringed buried trembled bouncing busted eavesdrop grounded hugging worrying pouted pettiness bratty obnoxious pain-in-the-butt embrace struggles play daughters mouths senses hook hurry daze rememorize room: dusty available quilt mother tripped furry crouching releasing pathetic meow disk sleeping gas release drugging physically ill backpack slung giggled elizabeth clutching anywhere couch fingered ordering thirty crumpled burying recognize crouched smearing drool snot drugged sobs

overcame jerk washers bags regret bear slept finish hawaiian family’s limp determination taken fourteen cried assured stranglehold haunting gets hope personally oversee relocation flared wrung guardians title selected enthusiasm strangers elwin’s blue-crystaled temptation shiver raked bones orphan conservatory lead backyard security choosing saved ache suffering gift raise ended abandoned wipe elwin physician medical hate doctors brave regular nightmares brief stays struggled dragging direction drop free implying biana’s glare escape punch bathed gigantic glued cushioned cot syringe goes fidget spectacles scientist snapped painless orb flasher manipulate skilled orem vacker show eclipse biggest celebrations traditions damage permanent tensed food chance innocent cells dashing depending orbs squinting lenses stunningly lit dramatic expecting toxins research rifled satchel vials liquids major detox braced medicine syrups nectar unknown fruits tingly drink youth legends enzymes essential health refreshing downed contents gulp drank medicines list follow-up checkup whistled sometimes heated lame stinky stegosaurus shame horrified production wimp doctor phobia jumping needle strap bunch shots allergic how’d concrete nine-one-one unconscious genes kicking trigger bedroom canopied chandeliers room’s gotten deserve ruined chanting mantra shut pajamas tuck asleep belonging alive twenty-five catch breakfast clock shop furniture detoxes materializing clutched ghostly exotic heartbreaker fitted glamorous shopping explosion behold wardrobe outfits extras pick beat-up sparkly casual packing leaked days unpack hungry knotted sadly dampened preserve havenfield exciting jolie deny loss wonderful booming fenced-in pastures spread scrambled versions rehabilitation centers sanctuary protected trap nessie artist endangered gorillas lions mammoths extinct thriving herd woolly colonies saber-toothed tigers slack exists rob qualities provides thrive feeding hunt diet steep cliffs caves flower-lined using ropes lasso lizard neon beast protest drama queen husky male commanded beast’s heave feat twice snaarrll bucked guardian lunged tangled writhed losing balance verdi tyrannosaurus comments meeting jaculus winged serpent feeds support contain bloodsucking snake claws snout tremble lowering fangs glinted slobber motioning glimpse dinosaur-riding chiseled feather-covered james bond robin hood balding relate handsome feathery banged pet rub rex’s stayed docile unblinking separated verdi’s wound plugged slime death rot tuna fish combination kelpie dung bites jar swear edaline’s grady’s wary compared palatial estate mansion standards columns cupola roof entryway central upper floors cascaded ceiling wispy fabric turquoise amber curls similar circles fluff presentable rex picking playing rodeo cowboy nope wash staircase sadness lingered tea mallowmelt insist gooey cake fresh-baked chip soaked ice frosting butterscotch dripping hasty slices served nook grazing linens painted china homesick woken lushberry juice pop possessed conjurer form teleporting objects coolest unfortunately scraggly slurps burps letting friend’s ached grieve fished imparter simply strangled pounded reassuring deafening third star-shaped dangled glittery weaved carpet scent canopy occupied dressing bookshelves brightly volumes bathroom bathtub swimming biting awesome assumed jolie’s tour awkward delicious soupy pizza unpacking wrinkled scrapbook wherever welled remnants dried sixteen sunrise streaks blending mirror darken awake finishing hovered doorway interrupt riser shades clap bruises conjured bowl spoon banana bread tempted impose sloppy handwriting upside symbol corner: bird’s beak tickled babble scare extremely documents cipher moisture particularly believable prescribed drawn eager fidgeting ruffles simplest bought hi kesler groaned island mysterium identical mold vendors spices sweets buzzed crowded sidewalks working-class social rank ‘talent simpler correspondingly unfair born lesser lives type designed village avoiding whispers ruewen pretended different

store crooked nursery rhyme burps: merry apothecary belched maze shelves pills laboratory beakers bubbling burners rainbow-colored lab skinny tousled strawberry periwinkle blob tubes add amarallitine dex tongs vial experiment poured beaker sparked plume dirty gag concoction exclaimed hello ‘hello impersonation sludge eda scrap sheet kesler’s brother-in-law nephew practically monday al freaks dimples burped beanpole hooded cloak vika annoyance handiwork written girl’s bald scalp meanwhile stina ’cause twitched battling sell solutions sasquatch dent bony appendages children throttle hairoids stock week wailed ogre wicked misses responsible friendly rage here’s spat helping customers potent hat flinch useless buy countered retort stina’s oooh slammed fist timkin heks helps situation traditional absolutely brings stuffy nobles happier grinning mess tweak supplies armful worktable sneaky beard dex’s evil mortar pestle teach tingle attempt fifty-seven solo property collapse practiced checked displayed sliver percent chose he’ll hawk mentors monitor weakness expelled pushes transferred exillium swallowing bile mounting attack messy juline riveted gossip interruption interest hilarious bookshelf mounted cover camera summer flipping pages naked mouse suit disneyland dizznee photos honestly movies outlets flipped technology solar powered rifling sir conley’s luck lady galvin highest rate rig calming flooded seventeen gadgets chimes arrive uniform skirt leggings shirt-vest-cape combo laceup jerkin long-sleeved slacks waist-length superhero captain blueberry rescue meaning order demonstrate rid wimpy halcyon mastodons mascot birds storm mastodon ceremonies costumes glad idiots appealing crest triangle heart: scarlet eagle soaring talons chemistry equipment theirs adopting adoption adopt temporary enrollment manticore themselves parties dies span cope calmed orphans wylie whose recover connection blames wylie’s hanging leapmaster 500 lucky authorized 250 tons rotated five-story pyramid sharply angled u stained seventh amphitheater extensive fields grass hopelessly prodigies uniforms building’s finding ducked starts orientation principal reads announcements attendance collar track peal close-up stunning porcelain caramel-colored foremost whoever reekrod weekend mark punished fullest extent threat dangle continued detect ah spotlight hissed viper’s nest ssssssophie hole crawl concludes today’s nearest exception divided wing banners bore midflight halls quad throughout sparkling sapphire chatted doorways lining atrium spectacle creating marked rune locker mirrored lock uses gross faculty picks flavors pepper sneeze croak yelped stench rotten eggs dash diaper muskog wheezy snicker whirled towering mass frizzy cackling hags stalking hairs shave earth serum friday retorted raven swishing behavior phasers ashamed apologize obviously spend detention alexine stinks beet minions kinda frog fumes catching jensi rapid-fire speech talked buckets redder instructed honest ‘human girl’ ‘sophie’ whim elementalism pride backtracked twists turns drops warped wooden session’s zapped ‘zapped’ thunderclap eighteen tray electrocuted quiver conley hitting fluted botched sending tornado tornadoes mastering elements entering foods series stalls court mall recognizable eaten tables cafeteria whom discourage joining verge perceptible message clear: focusing bigger jensi’s acne braces fairly slicked greasy ponytails drooled setting bang c’mon dude unison ‘e’ duh drooly volunteered singed universe daunting exaggerated messing ‘dude’ killing explode cough pixielike rescuing tossing petite balled braids suicide overeager marella mare nicknames obeyed enemies honored pucker licorice lemon fan prettypants rather grumpy brat brother’s dreamy willpower copying sip looped defending dizznees triplets says ‘bad match’ genetically incompatible inferior aunt uncle superstrange celebrities famous vackers superimportant marella’s sympathy grandma heartbroken helpless veins hopeless cases guarantee scooping mammoth shudder awful afternoon feared astronomical

learning astin whispery complex maps planetarium effortless excelled hour survived approaching dragon hateful invited feelings letters: extinguished stuffing fill animosity deck ‘nice uncanny royal highness bothers remembers talented ‘deck beaming nineteen thursday disaster goal sandwiched colosseum pe vanity near door: sneakers ponytail owned ship slap reply lasted compare redek squish may fool stops idle threats grouped twos tromps manifested fifty-fifty manifesting mysterious remark required variable reign terror ‘everyone’ impressive jolt supervise caton titan god informed channeling supereasy channel parts body: heights speeds normally unimpressive attempts threes bumped defense appetite startled spaceship unremarkable studying superintently snapping scraping probing concept unsettling establish forcing eighty-seven puckered brow assume cheerful scraped intended drained steadying suggest ethics attached meganeura exercise annoy fidgeted cocked wanna buzzing dived vulture-size dragonflies patted freaky-looking bug blown gargantuan proportions creepiest disco balls grown monster enclosure phys ed intense emergency weirdest part: proven trustworthy receive assignments lectured responsibility detecting discover elite avoided mesmer nauseated wow sheesh inflicting curiosity won causes dara lecture: pyramids tidal army hairy hollowing himalayas strangest mumble creeped exile interested dying supertalented fundamental guilty underground eternity ruin fluke churned abandoning illegal washer alter dump brother secluded sorted reminding effort flavored flumes spritzed shove disturbing failing smirked alchemy pupil encouraging cracking melody ominous ingredients trophies gilded items pointy-toed suspiciously midas milky liquid dancing rushing rustle red-brown updo hunter silky decorated patterns swished slightest alkahest universal solvent stored itself dissolves wood flesh taxes substance alchemist wise teaching masters tincture poultice basic serums yellowed box flask jars iron transmuting metals recipe formula labeled instructions fiddled rechecked mistakes plunged whip fizzed rumbled jelly galvin’s exquisite dissolved luxurious damaged salvage welt healing ma’am murder retrieve afterward muttering incompetence flunk sprawled hallways stark ditching keefe gulon disheveled untucked popular belva crush blame 90 certain paid accidentally cue epic alina’s ugly crying treated whiter phobia consisted rooms: treatment beds brewing physician’s paperwork slinky scurried bullhorn demented ferret banshee adorable fellow dramatically wanting seize mmm-hmm acid mimed effects destroyed salve measured whap wash present laughs clarification confirming twenty-one embellished version destruction joked bottling anwen multispeciesial 324 faxon metaphysics complimented requests brown-eye create overnight granted incredibly challenging explosions occurrence unlearn lifetime knowledge levitating rainbows constantly messed highlight skill effortlessly amazed unwanted transmit else’s psychic photograph needing patient plague suspicion snotty maruca i-hate-sophiefoster club reaching growl jealous prettiest bedlam subdue chasing rabbits antlers swinging trunk lump verminion pen boosted mammoth’s trumpeted earthshaking squeal ringing mound timid twig hiiiissssssssssss uncurled rodent bulging hamsters rottweiler-size hamsterzilla trample japanese hamster cooed snaarrrlll impressed chase steer dashed catches fifty stupidest clod mud nailed grooowwwwllll fatal flaw pinned grunted press snarling squeeze verminion’s unlocked assortment spewed whined pile gloves shed trade trudged oversize squirrels rats identify burlap sack quivering snarl steeled shriek batlike heaved wool scratches leg outbuildings carefully organized veterinarian’s laid sterile spreading limbs smeared eyedropper dripped creature’s rewarded squeaky rumbling crackly purr smiles cage barrel soapy chain-sawesque snores vibrating brattail tuber sausage imp guessed six-inch venomous stings snoring vicious describing tame yetis outnumbered conked chipper iggy strand swell

generous hugs touches gestures glistened dubious trails twenty-two sharing congested warthog roommate snuggly sleepless spoil caring ultimate splotching championship sacks cheered sympathetic secretly celebrating partnered naturally teamed splotcher splattered loses winners person wins marks smugly win splotch splat deserved colorful prize contest pardon hopes wonderboy gagging rounds beat opponent knots backing aim ow raw telekinetic flushed compliment disqualifies pumped victory hotter cheering opponents experience duel beginner’s talents mighty competition grumblings battle odds experienced evidently four: sixes trella dempsey paired hopeful muster bested winner fluttered appears competitors betraying butt preference keefe’s chant ladies’ float clenched adrenaline surged audience back-up splotches rebound phenomenon weightless collided simultaneous fate collapsed twenty-three placing compress wincing muscle injured whermiwhahapped worse: laying banshees mortal danger stirred lucid winced stiff glands zinged collected rebounded bounce specialized hammered controls actual mix matched draining practice evenly awfully sidelines wobbling auditorium applause teensy annoyed copied blushing elbowing ribs tie protested declared excused lesson rejoin splotchers acted delivered p congratulations confirm bath lathering bathers soggy instinctively besides creased drive twenty-four meter one-third younger that’d wonderboy’s precious midterms score seventy-five recommend nissa tutoring consider tutor projection gagged flavor yell daily tore prattle chewy caramel peanut butter pouch cracker jack horse mane prattles’ unicorn pins collection examined digital 122 185 number eighty-five super-rare bitterness vaguely compute unexpected development century too-little-too-late branch other’s replaced beeline simultaneously sniff aw stuck-up snob wasted invite humiliate walking ambush capable teeniest details clanged cricket chirped embroidered satin sash wringing exhaled seeming makeovers wrestling polite fortunately braid flutter dirt pitter-patter eh sayin’ shooting quest grateful team jealousy guarded raid questers tagged sentry tabs isolate general nail targets listened softer instantly presence tremendous connected forest thundered vision racked credible crashing bushes partner deceive insists hasn’t secrets toes staying chain apologizing visitors sulking funk snipe wagged there’ve weekly jokes havenfield’s defied exams panicking passing guide narrowing shipped exam brass copper transmutations ideas challenges thwarted spilled gashrooms reek pored frozen cause shattering cheated accomplished cheat ideal dreading twenty-six tri-angular apex streamed pane angle reflection examining confessed forgave neutral violated ethical regulations expulsion suggesting argument ruling obey flourish bother violating reporting stifle closely icily respect authority advises wedding flapped nor pointless cheating tolerated huffed regrets confess serve minimum assigning becoming theme slipping unnoticed what’d gloomy atmosphere desks thumbs-up siren song appreciation art nature clapping earsplittingly shrill whine whale nails chalkboard toddler uncover broadening horizons claiming repentant company brand torture ballroom belva’s sirens dances edwardian claimed valin ponytailed promenade dancers valin’s sweaty chime stars shined brighter spit wickedly slobbery octaves fanned hmm irritated flattered scored points empathy forked smirk ironing holes stack detained increased practicing leaps eyebrow empaths powerful mundane purification vein easiest transmutation lockers traded twenty-seven banging annoyingly caps disqualified chorus groans nonstop cap smurf amalgam telepathic integrity wrote essay betrayal over debate automatic 100 last-minute mentally repeating tips negative vibes stress ethic claim fame skipped skip supportive doubting brag mercifully stalled magenta berries rusty discipline chosen purify ruckleberries fifty-five nasty impurities elderly human’s alchemists methods dive knife pierced berry dribbled pinky haggard glacial quarters

deducted mediocre performance forth whirlwind crack exhausted brutal slamming slumped that’ll public hooks presents spine cards schools hassle babysitters edged obstacle tugging stressing rigid suitable gifts jewelry charms charm twenty-eight unrecognizable streamers shrub toilet-papered tinsel confetti bubbles prizes popping appointment teal-wrapped package uglier hurrying plowing regain literally prying trademark smirks spoken sapphire-encrusted navy-blue intently hairstyle contrasted pristine infamous deflated wilted father’s oily insincerity resigned flame cassius lord performing unremarkably radiated apologies fos er disappointing scores fake critical said: creeps prize-filled prattles dwarf lollipop topple snappy comeback comment loser fails organize overflowing half-empty month misunderstanding shushed slim parcel chiming signaled parent-mentor conferences celebration feast unwrap snatching self ‘dear dance sometime vice president boyfriend rattled reader tease ribbon tapped gadget fingernail speaker thingies coloring dunno disbelief variety edible glosses speckled spider snapper plant fed spiders riddler writes riddle miniature violet thanked showing misty seventy-nine improvement range sensing tomato congratulated comfort sobbing partying included sneer party note: f snap k sugarplums boy-craziness necklace cuffs wristbands vanisher platter customs gelled perfection gym ornate immaculate alvar talks often rumpling fizzleberry wine juggling girlfriends hero beamed piddly quicksnuff emissaries tend conspiracy possibility myself pieced undivided swan’s curve pattern term replied active recently unauthorized investigation frustration twenty-nine alternate spending smelling clues accomplish consumed trapped counting resumed vacation finals received eighty-one eighty-three unacceptable prepared chorused poufy thrown towel drooped oven roasted frosters transmitting charts transmitted peed suffered rested cryokinetics freeze manipulating pyrokinesis mesmers inflictors monitored pyrokinetics inflict fire’s unpredictable truly forbidding pyrokinetic library surely three’s librarian banned archives libraries bust problem: section dire wolves peek promising bins mountain littered haphazardly spaces scan unrolled flip papers helpful lacy dulled childhood: strung lanyards dolls framed bone picture: breathtaking tragedy drinking leftover junk trunks piles unopened bin disturbed murky midterm roll scroll shelf sample starlight moonglade: fireflies flickering stellarscope upside-down spyglass view’s billions wad tag amaranthis memorized fourth lambentine bag spout wider scope knobs cluster dials stiffened lever thumb clinked rubini orroro azulejo cobretola indigeen scratching spectrum rearranged indigo zelenie isolated this’ll bluff scrounging elementine adjusting fidgety hummed shining teared welts frantic thirty-one blackish-purple blisters pot burns sprinkled powder adventure soaking numbs balm miserably regulate temperature palace crown nicer handful roots mutilating blades destroying bashing stubbornness reappeared ointment knelt furrowed fingertip rags longest hottest soapiest griffins discreetly boring-looking firecatching bode bundle solid downright incoherently darkly quintessence fifth element myth truest conditions blow metallic-toned bronze wildly flamed audible unmapped locations merit thirty-two platform thrones remotely procedure involving throne cushions tourmaline sturdy polished dotted onyx heard: clarette velia terik liora emery ramira darek noland zarina flicked mere evacuated three-thousand-year task undisclosed location trial salivating convict straighter dozen marched stationed bodyguards swordlike weapons belts fanfare blasted crowned amateurs seated sapphires shall world’s ungraceful consuming detector fuzzy lying endlessly jell-o hobbled astin’s honesty assigned emery’s argento auriferria pennisi merkariron styggis achromian slower plotting map cowering submit lists convenient judgment frightening hardened remained expressionless mediates telepathically consensus united aspirin unanimous

rise violates actions intentional accountable foster’s involvement addressing agreement millionth wished exchanged dimpling kiddo thirty-three banks sienna bark paintbrushes purfoliage palmae calls pures filter pollution freshest crispest tinge fuzzed hesitation observant instruction lurched sunset farthest councillors’ steadied emerald-encrusted circlet bowed pleasing honor beg refuse descryer response delightfully potential clamoring backfired speaks beginning optional 327 sensed crane sweeping peacock log dream softly regularly useful one-armed fiancé’s projecting vividly replace album dinner’s stroke retracted apology hurting tricks arches replica model thirty-four planted curl plotted page difficulties rivaled protect quieted los angeles hollywood trash conspicuous spider-man batman posed mann’s chinese theatre blended beams issued ‘forgot’ oblivious ourselves stubborn softened unwillingly seeped ‘got of’ ant pavement explore warring hurried consequences captured pleaded mercy prentice’s behalf oversaw shatters society metaphor insurgents rebellion kindest whatever’s decisions encouragement revelations ability-detecting exercises cornered superbusy insistent significant elf-ish onetime played envy tracked master tracking switch spots conspiracies investigating headway ignorance ever: permanently jarred conservation legitimate scientific principle nagging elixir nogginease limbium mineral supposedly resisted bike wheels giddy week’s supply unnaturally syrup absorb nauseating unfastening vest skin’s collapsing allergy dimmed cradling thirty-five fluttered chafed sandpaper wildhaired soothed sensations spectators cleaned vomit upright moaned allergies wits bullhorn’s trite soiled airtight vomiting swollen blotch-free humiliated undershirt noticeably absent dazzling alvar’s raptor disgusting decade spare injected steroids tied budge scolded showers heels crisis ushered deathly tough disasters blankly rests brothy soup elsewhere shadowy comforting yawn snuggled thirty-six squealing hundreds eagle-size pterodactyl somersaulted screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech stability rein speed momentum gained screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech torch pasture dispersed uncannily fried engulfed birdbath sparks jerking possess flareadon fire-resistant replay triggered animal’s cares octave higher killed resting flareadons volcanoes occur gildie strayed ‘flareadon female correcting wade debacle breaks wrestled socks shredded apparent vague emotion animals’ distances qualified lightened results defined iggy’s gildie’s paw tummy reward downy fury paled out-of-breath aura recoiling imperative vital violate risk humiliation fled her: cooperate freezing peered railing partial drifted bars errand thirty-seven mush nights begging blend processing forgetting tearing fluorescent locker: insider’s librarian’s timing shoe absolute librarians plastered sinking confirmed dog-ear chapter everblaze: unstoppable blind thirty-eight paper-strewn something’s ‘everblaze frissyn x stands detailed extinguish overruled excluded unheard indecision warred babies hatch extract unregistered code name: egg cast conventional purpose determine pregnant fertility posing implanted embryo manipulated outstanding retain discovering affects genetic anomaly renegades weapon ‘prodigy illegally forgiving messages suffocating choke word: controlled puppet issue triggers twilight proudly soothe facade crumble table: throaty fix drove wedge messenger delivering seal reseal rampaging limits chaise skimmed bead luminous nonluminous generated lumenite drilled clarify rip grubby paws riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip chunk possession skittered treasure retrieving tattered assess rug glue document accordance canceled thirty-nine heartbeat scrubbing choked-back muffle misery acknowledge gaping owe regardless charade  obeying command churn yeti ricocheted ooooookaaaaaaay slinking acknowledging attempting library-appropriate slothlike triple-check echoing phew scrutiny shrug candleshade overhead clipping playlist jarring numbness bass mature speakers bands sarcastic tune swirled seeping cracks triumphed

tiptoed rustled creaked padding crawling lonely forgive forty cheer stricken envelope headline: claims victims scrawl announcement corridor stark-white gulps sneaking suggestions weigh resolve admirer flood applying replacement heal eased uncertainty brothers recent discoveries recording spy undetected textbook dreaded licensed pathfinders restriction threatens ‘everblaze’ accusation fintan pricked balefire fintan’s requires fuel supported cosmic ‘fire ignite conclusive example surveillance ruining depths former dealing approved overrule objection trusted phantom rebels snatched emissary citizen confidential duly noted digging forty-one partly imprisoned sorting reminders pity tension distant lately preparing prejudice megacrush cave commands successful method unwrapping names: connor kate natalie freeman apply permit huddled thinner echoes evacuee note’s unquenchable abandon supporter afar forty-two stashed drawers ‘you threaten chaperone global dumped significance supplied clothing resistant fly willful punish facets stagger hills screeched tying pried displays seals survival glinting corneas swoop thickest raspy coughs locate singeing shift current overcome coughing inferno ouch thrashing clouded watery beads capped treats paced treating scorched angrier contorted squatted pee severe scalding plunked sticky-sweet healthy grim balled-up yelling homes camped affairs mesmerized desperation launching steal dumping tenderness justified reacts offer unintelligible agreeing concerns forty-three relatively illness actress w-what admitting lifeless freaky dumber connections traitorous resisting grasp peace decency furball storm’s appropriate cliff reveling shard clatter soothing relishing pulverized smithereens boulder violent frightened irrational fallen possibly smothered meaty cloaked swooped sickeningly nostrils sedative cursed rallied scuffle scuttled captor circulation rasped viselike lolled rescued forty-four bonds staging unfortunate complication fog scrambling muddled funerals pendants vise sweetness blackness necessary loomed constricted heaving choking gruff hyperventilating suffocates coated hacking nods croaked relocate stolen grunt syllable drugs mist strapped bound shivers eerie breathy wheeze venom trail gumption predicament footfalls disposed disappearance guts throb ignorant cackle toy reserve widen contorting poison ple clarity struggle overwhelming happiness rocked jostling rescuer foggy occasionally elevator altitude delirium parted flimsy fumbling promises caress weary forty-five searing heightened awareness sensory overload barrage cigarette butts alley surveying hideout interrogation kidnappers scoured alexandre desperately operates anyone’s him: upcoming rounded apologized broom peeking roofs yards landmark eiffel gaped graceful paris france french indian saris currency exchange robbing bank machine atm watches account measures ‘make work’ cameras covering buttons alarm bills robbed technopath froster internet café sandwiches cheese once-living boxy computers navigated web browser googled number-one result pont iii bridge seine lanterns shopkeeper sped excitement decorations horizon lamp nexuses lasts mathematics applied dawn forty-six melder stun evening strolls cloaks leader obscurer bends distortion coil rope goons goon pathways underestimate wire enhanced wishful swirl severing rapid duck whizzed seizure dusted flailed gurgling blank forefinger crescent shaped jagged cowl stumble scarred heft frenzy hatred writhing strengthened pumping pulse heavyset figure’s hideouts options battering crushed nearing tug-of-war lessened allowing glorious drift fading surrendered mind’s imagination funeral weariness overtaking hazy snow labored conscious sparkle freedom sweep forty-seven brightness peaceful wove persisted appeal surge newfound pooled aches splintered clearer enveloped strawberry-blond-haired numbing sedated tingles luxuriating gulping wetness numb shhh sniffled recognizing propped girly seasons faltered proves meaningful floppy snickers emergencies conversations flirting scratch

blasts streaking injuries concentration’s cell half-drained gaunt fleeing canceling flitted nuzzling scratched there’d yawned lights forty-eight covers washed sandor goblin bodyguard inflictor paralysis semiconscious incapacitated dormant trauma latent polyglot languages advance interrogated sandor’s bunny seven-foot-tall buffed-out overtime blindfolded seared monitoring proved arrested custody awaiting deaths tragic innocence error motivate condemning madness reluctance single-handedly now’s crescent-shaped recalled epiphany overweight swells digest explains operative guarding subliminal advantage activate developed who’ll address database detectives arson reigned supreme wisest greater questioned decades measure influential amok globe rejected imprison devastated uprooted supporters initiative resign outspoken recruited activity satisfied handled poorly kidnapped prisoner resolved disposal stamped justice voiced revenge birthday birthdays indefinite spans thirteen-year-old crushes plots rebellions grown-ups understands teenager accepted bargain relented insisting uncertain responding arrange forty-nine pedestal charges bylaws sub-bylaws committed transgressions minor tortured regal express safely accused drafting addressed firmly murmurs debated arguments raging attitude disrespectful rebellious overlooked gratitude however static rulers experiences inappropriate assign ‘already served’ sang admission din bursting provisional basis due aforementioned cannot proceed suggestion issues seats smoothing occasion fancier signaling require records indicate provided remain appreciated despised gladly nicely dipped textbooks someday squash toughest earn deserves murderous successfully fingering justifiably displeasure smirking retake propose alternative state events revealed therefore practical prudent career prospects shifting internal logical volatile qualifies majority erupting directing registered cuddly earned oneon-one immediate tangle concluded gathered twirling nudging trades sidestepped congratulate surviving multiple tribunals swirls diamonds feminine unlatch decides woven triply journey

[yinses]

B R A N D E D

| he would make sure that everyone knew who you belonged to |

tattoo artist! sukuna ryomen

rating: t

a/n: this is going to be a three part series. it got too long because i couldn’t shut up. thank you to @teoran for beta reading !! 

you should have never informed yuuji that you were thinking about getting a tattoo, because of course his first response would be hey, sukuna owns a shop. why don’t you stop there. as if you didn’t already known that. your other friend, unfortunately had not known how to be subtle about it.

its when you go to hand off your card that they gasp audibly, drawing the attention of both yourself and the woman behind the counter.

“you’re not going to ask for a discount? i mean you know the owner, right?”

she jumps back quick enough to dodge the errant elbow you throw her way.

you knew you would regret telling her.

the woman is undeterred as she take your card, looking bored with the news. “so you know sukuna, huh?” the way she said it implied that it wasn’t the first time it had been made known to her.

you had known the man long enough to know where her thoughts were going with that assumption. sukuna wasn’t only popular for his art. a shudder rolled through your body at the idea of being categorized as one of his flings.

it wasn’t as though you were intentionally shaming the women. but it was sukuna. the same guy who locked you and his younger brother out on the patio whenever he was meant to keep an eye on you. and then blamed you for hiding from him when the responsible adults got home.

in hindsight, maybe you should have chosen another location. but now your card has been charged.

you scribbled your signature on the receipt, “uh yeah, awhile now. im not requesting him or anything.”

“his appointment book is full anyway. he doesn’t take walk ins.” its not said snidely, just matter of fact. as if she was seasoned with dealing with these kind of customers.

the man of topic strides in then, carrying a few bags of take-out that he drops carelessly onto the counter. he doesn’t m look unlike any other day, a loose white sleeveless shirt with a low hanging v-neck that just invited attention to his skin. the swirls of black ink made permanent by his hand only. though that was the advantage of this field and owning your own business on top of it.

sukuna was prepared to ignore the clientele planted at front desk, until he did a double take. those vermilion eyes took you in, morphing from speculation, to shock, a pinch of awe, then back to postulation.

“what are you doing here?”

a small frown mars you face. you didn’t actually consider that perhaps sukuna wouldn’t want you here. it was one thing to know the guy, but whether you wanted to accept it or not, you weren’t just another customer. so you unsurely respond with, “getting a tattoo?”

the snort he gives isn't one of annoyance. in fact its almost comforting to see the minuscule curl of his lips until they start to part, “yeah, missing something aren’t you?”

you realize with a frown that he’s referring to his brother.

“i have other friends.”

that slow smile wides as he gives your friend a brief look of appreciation. suddenly all those years of witnessing him cart his flings around rise to the forefront of your mind.  really nothing rarely changed. “ i can see that.”

his gaze cuts back to you, “what are you getting? your boyfriends name?”

you cant tell if he’s teasing, fishing or a combination of them both.

he turns to lean over the counter, arms flexing at the action and pinches the fresh design still hot from the printer. you resist the urge to shuffle in place as he inspects the image with more interest than there were lines. it was hardly all that complex, just as you intended.

sukuna finally voices his opinion, to no surprise of your own. “yeah? kind of small isn’t it?”

“its my first sukuna,” you drawl.

you realize too late that the wording isnt best around him.

“no kidding.”

he tugs a styrofoam box free from the plastic bag before gesturing to you with a tilt of his head.

“alright, lets knock it out.”

you look to the woman expecting her to complain about his pending appointments but she only returns it with a pointed look. when it came down to it, what the boss wanted goes.

right then.

turning, you address your friend who seemed more invested in watching sukuna’s departure. “are you coming?”

her gaze snaps to you and she doesn’t even bother to pretend. she shrugs, “you may not be squeamish about needles but i am.” her hand waves vaguely towards the lounge area near the coffee station and stack of assorted snacks. “i’ll come running if you scream though,” she teases as you turn down the hall.

sukuna’s voice carries from the right in guidance where you find him setting his food off to the side. the room is neat. though you don’t know what you were expecting given the health expectations lining his work. then again, you’d spent the better part of the decade watching him cart week old pizza boxes out of his room so it was hardly a baseless assumption.

aside from the desk of tools and variety of inks the only other defining feature was the wall at the back. there was no rhyme or direction to the madness. the once white wall was littered with varying penmanships and messages. almost like an autograph book. some derogatory, others genuinely thankful for his work - you think you see a few numbers too.

the cushion of the seat protests under his weight as he rolls to the center of the room. he has the stencil of your chosen art held up in expectation.

“where is this pretty little thing going?”

“oh my rib- here on the right.” you think nothing of bringing up the hem of your shirt to expose the skin just under the curve of your breast.

he almost looks impressed, though there is some doubt. he wheels closer and gives no warning as his hand palpates the area. “over the bone? that’s daring for your first tattoo, princess.”

the name was nothing new, an accompaniment to yuuji’s ‘brat’.

part of you actually grateful that its sukuna. the entire shop had good reviews but it was best known for his talent. besides, the charge was already sitting on your card.

“i can handle it.”

he’s still squinting at your side, fingers tickling at your skin.

“yeah?” he answers absently. nimble digits you didn't think had any taste for delicacy carefully peel the plastic from the stencil. he doesn’t second guess himself in the slightest before pressing it to your skin.

when he pulls away, the chair follows him as he collects a hand mirror from his desk to reflect the design back to you.

“double sure?” he’s still rallying your resolve, but there is a hint of warning to his voice as professionalism seeps in.

with a firm nod you seal the deal,” yeah.”

“aright, pin up your shirt out of the way. tuck it into your bra if you want.”

you were expecting this already, given the location you’d decided on. with sukuna that action comes effortlessly without thought. it was no different than the times he’d seen you in your bathing suit, your brain reasoned. at least you still had your pants this time.

sukuna rests back into a lean against his small desk. absently you note that his eyes haven't left you once since you’d entered the room.

“eager little thing aren't you?”

but its sukuna.

you shrug.“ i guess. kind of been saving up for this one.”

the noise he makes is non-committal as he nods to the angled chair.

without your shirt there was no barrier between yourself and the leather. you expected the cold chill but the lack of stickiness kind of surprised you. once again you were reminded of the indisputable list of reviews at your fingertips.

sukuna goes about collecting the materials to disinfect your skin, angling the bottle and cotton over the trash can to catch the excess drops. satisfied with the saturation, he slides back.

you try to absorb the brief shock you feel when he applies the alcohol to your skin. it was hardly a substitute for actual bracing to come but it was good practice. when you look up, you catch his gaze again.

he’d been more observant in these last few minutes than you could ever recall sukuna caring before. maybe it was the job. though the thought of him excelling at customer service has you fighting a snort.

“cold,” you supply and he gives another grunt.

he chucks the cotton ball into the trash with all the efficiency of a man who has made a sport out of it and probably keeps score.

deciding on a solid color eliminated the need for him to break away to change shades, eliminating any surplus time keeping you in this chair.

a gloved hand braces your side, pinching the skin, while the other holding the gun rests against your sternum. when the motor starts you take a careful breath in. sukuna’s eyes raise at the sound.

“not nervous?”

you blink, expecting him to just get to it.

“uh, not really? i’ve never really been afraid of needles.”

he pauses. just when you part your lips to ask what wrong the buzzing starts.

its impossible not to tense at the first bite of the needle. but you fight the urge to jerk. it stings. the vibration of the motor is uncomfortable against your ribcage but it's not unbearable. you certainly wouldn't cry.

sukuna seems to notice it as well.

“not going to lie thought you’d be more of a cry baby? weren't you the one sobbing after you stubbed your toe.”

you latch onto the idle chatter even if it's a jibe.

“i was eleven and i sprained that toe.”

he gives you a quick glance. “sure, princess. completely called for the waterworks.”

you snort. “yeah well it made me stronger. im barely affected today.”

your words are followed by a shift of his hand as it turns to follow a line, the movement pressing firmly against the underside of your breast. you're too attentive to the needle pinching at your skin to take notice.

but sukuna does, eyes narrowing without your awareness.

“yeah, i can see that.”

rather than closing your eyes to block out the pain, you find a more comforting distraction in tracing the lines of his tattoos with your gaze. you can hardly make out the first tattoo he’d gotten at the age of seventeen after forging his parents signature. 

the abstract design had now branched out, interlocking with new styles to map out the formation of a sleeve. it was almost like his own branded language. a dialect of bold shapes and bands. you’d never thought to actually ask what his tattoos meant. nor did you expect an honest answer.  

sukuna works rather quickly and efficiently while your mind wandered. even if he hadn’t squeezed you in during his lunch break this felt like the usual pace for him. he looked so in the zone as he followed the pre-made lines to perfection.

you weren’t the model customer, still having your brief moments of weakness but he rolled with the interruptions better than you expected. sukuna was brash growing up and didn’t tolerate nonsensical people. you’d had your fair share of opportunities to be chewed out by him.

and earned a reasonable amount of them, though your returning attitude said otherwise.

but this sukuna was softer, if you could put it like that. he knew the right time to give you breaks but didn’t let your nerves settle too much. when he wasn’t adding a layer to permanency to your skin, an errant finger would smooth over the swelling flesh.

more than once you heard him throw out a quiet good girl. that you knew was meant to be encouraging but it came with additional implications that tickled your skin.

he tells you that you should be grateful that the artwork doesn’t need any shading. that it was never a good fit for beginners.

your chest expands the furthest it had in the last half hour when he finally rolls back.

“alright, princess, go ahead and take a look.”

you take the offered mirror again and angle it to take in the fresh piece. the reflection you get back is- amazing. you’d been so concentrated?? on micromanaging the pain that you failed to take in the little details he’d added along with the original design.

as if reading your thoughts, he snorts. “it's not my art if i don't leave my mark. you can tell me it looks good you know.”

if you didn't know any better, you’d say he was authentic in his attempt to bait your approval.

and you had no reason not to provide.

your legs are a little shaky but you manage to balance yourself before brining the eldest itadori into a hug. sukuna goes stiff for a moment before returning the embrace and doesn’t resist when you press your face into his shoulder. there’s an awkward pat before they release each other from the hold.

sukuna .. before he’s shrugging you off.

“god, what a noob. at least let me cover it up. you’re going to irritate the skin.”

when he turns back to rummage through his desk you note the hint of a flush creeping up his nape. you know better than to mention it, instead just smiling at his back.

there is a scowl on his face as he applies the cotton square to your skin and tapes it in place.

“please do not itch this shit. i don’t care if you feel like your skin is going to fall off.”

he presses a small tube of antibiotic into your hand.

“and apply this daily. you don't need it drying out. “

you’re grateful for the little slip of printed instructions that follow. you were able to remember the sensible directions but it couldn't hurt to have additional guidance when you started to question the progress.

“oh and no sex.”

that was definitely not on the list.

sukuna raises a brow in all seriousness. “what? if you get your blood pumping too much.”

you call him on his bullshit,” this small? hardly. “

he raises his hands in mock surrender. “alright, try it yourself if you want. i charge for touch ups though.”

the two of you size each other up. just like old times.

with a sigh you relent, “fine, no sex.”

“good, see me in two weeks.”

his words stop you short. it wasn’t as if you needed anything added and he wasn’t a physician checking on your progress. if anything, you would only revisit your artist if there was a problem.

“what for?”

the dawning grin would follow you for the next fourteen days.

“to make sure you didn’t have sex.”

[selfignitingimagines]

Liam- Badass

A/N: This one has been in my ask box for a really long time, but I hope you guys enjoy it! I’ve been rewatching season 6, and Liam has grown on me a lot as a character!

Request:  Hi can you plz do a review where (based in season 6 episode 14 where everyone Is judging Liam and all that) and the reader is trying to be nice to him and be his friend when no one else will but Nolan has a crush on her and that is another reason he wants Liam to change so she can she the “monster” he is thx❤️❤️😘

“Find anything interesting?”

You jumped. The voice had startled you as it came from behind a library shelf. When you turned, a pair of blue eyes caught yours through an empty space between books.

“Sorry,” Nolan Holloway apologized, smiling sheepishly as he came around to your aisle. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” you told him. “I was just trying to find another copy of the bio textbook for Liam. He forgot his.”

Nolan glanced back toward the collection of tables in the middle of the school library. One was occupied by Liam, Mason and Corey, with a single empty seat waiting for you. 

“Study group?” he asked. 

“Sort of,” you told him. “It was kind of spontaneous.”

He nodded. “You know, I don’t really get why you hang out with those guys. Mason and Corey, I sort of understand, but Liam? He just seems like he’s hiding something.”

You raised your eyebrows. It wasn’t the first time someone had questioned your friendship with Liam because of his temper, but Nolan seemed to be talking about something else entirely.  “What do you mean?”

“You have to notice all the weird stuff that goes on around here, right?” 

“I think everyone does.”

“Yeah, so haven’t you noticed that they’re always at the center of it all?”

“Not really, no,” you told him. “You sure you’re not imagining things? The bio exam is coming up and I don’t think anyone is getting much sleep…”

You trailed off as you noticed he was still staring at your friends. You were about to just back up and leave when he turned to you. 

“I’m not sleep-deprived. I just pay attention. I pay attention to you too, you know.”

He had this strange, intense look in his eyes, and you were suddenly uncomfortable.

“Okay,” you agreed, struggling to keep a polite smile on your face. “Well, I’ve gotta get back to studying so…”

You trailed off and turned, quickly walking back to your table. 

“There aren’t any more books,” you told Liam.

“That’s fine. We can just share...hey, are you okay?”

Liam had seen Nolan getting a little too close to you over by the bookshelves. He knew he had a tendency to be a little overprotective, and, as Mason had also pointed out, a little too jealous. Maybe he didn’t have a right to be, but there were many times that he couldn’t help it. He had heard the way the other lacrosse players talked about you in the locker room. 

Nolan himself had said a few disgusting things when he didn’t think Liam had heard him. Though he couldn’t confront his teammate outright, he made sure to check him extra hard at practice. 

Maybe that was why he had been so suspicious as he watched Nolan breathe down your neck while you searched for an extra textbook. Maybe it also had something to do with how much Liam cared for you, and the fact that Nolan seemed to be up to something worse than getting into your pants. 

You nodded as you sat down at the table. “Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just...I don’t know. Do you ever get the feeling like something bad is about to happen?”

Corey and Mason shared a concerned look, but Liam tilted his head. 

“Like what? We might fail the test? Cause I don’t think I need a feeling to tell me that.”

“Shut up,” you complained, feeling the worry roll off your shoulders. “We’re going to make sure you don’t.”

You scooted your chair closer to him and opened up the textbook you had left on the table. “Let’s start with Chapter Nine.”

He leaned in to read next to you and flashed you a grateful smile. You were just about to turn the page when a couple of books slammed onto the table. You flinched at the noise, instinctively moving closer to Liam. 

Nolan was standing at the edge of the table, smiling at the four of you. “Hey guys.”

“Hey, Nolan,” Mason said politely.

“Mind if I sit?” Nolan asked. 

Liam opened his mouth to protest, but Nolan was already pulling a fifth chair up to the table.

Corey glanced over and met your eyes. He had seen you talking to Nolan in the stacks, and by the way his eyebrows were raised you knew he was wondering if you had invited him over. You shook your head.

Mason cleared his throat. “Studying for the bio test?”

“Trying,” Nolan said with a strange grin, sitting down next to you. “Trying to understand how organisms evolve and change.”

“I don’t think this is on the test,” Corey said hesitantly.

Nolan’s lips twitched, and he clicked the pen in his hands, over and over. He glanced around the table. “Do you think DNA changes?”

“If it’s damaged,” Mason told him. 

“I wonder if any of us have changed,” Nolan wondered aloud. “And if we did...would there be any way to tell?”

“Like a DNA test?”.

Nolan smiled as he turned the pen over in his hands. “I was thinking a different type of test.” 

Liam stood up suddenly. 

“You know what, Nolan? This is a private study group. Get lost.”

Nolan nodded, seeming to understand. He pushed himself up from the table, flashing you a warm smile. For a second, it seemed like he was going to leave. Then, looking right into your eyes, he stabbed his pen into Corey’s hand.

You let out a shriek, and Corey cried out as blood splashed onto the table. Now it was glistening on the wood and your textbook.

“What the hell is your problem?” Mason demanded, but Nolan wasn’t phased. 

He reached forward, jerking Corey’s hand up and holding it high for everyone in the library to see. The hole that should have been there was gone, like it had completely healed. 

“Look at him!” he snarled at you. “Look at him!”

The entire library was staring. Kids looked up from their textbooks and phones to find a sight that confused and terrified them. What they didn’t know, and what you didn’t know, was that this was only the beginning.

In seconds, Liam had shoved Nolan off of Corey, knocking him to the floor of the library. “Get the hell away from us. Now.”

Nolan glared at Liam, shoving himself up from the ground. He snatched his books from the table and glanced toward you. “See what I’m talking about?”

Then he stormed off, shoving the library doors open and disappearing into the darkened hallway. 

When you looked back, Corey, Liam, and Mason were all eyeing you carefully, as if you were an animal that might bite. You glanced at Corey’s completely healed hand, and you made a decision that would define everything that came after that night. 

“Nolan is nuts,” you said firmly. “Let’s go study at my house.”

Their shoulders seemed to slump in relief, and Liam reached out to squeeze your hand.

You met his baby blue eyes, and a look of understanding passed between the two of you. What you had seen didn’t matter. These were your friends, and nothing could scare you away from them.

-----

It only took a few days for things to escalate to the unthinkable. Suddenly everyone was afraid of your friends.

You didn’t understand it. There had only been about ten other people in the library that night. Word shouldn’t have traveled that fast, and even if it had, what was there to be afraid of?

If Corey could suddenly heal from his injuries, that should have been a miracle. Unfortunately, not everyone thought that. 

When the three of you had walked into school that Monday, all people had done was stare or shy away from you and your friends. You couldn’t hear the whispers, but Liam seemed to be able to. He looked pained as you stood in front of your lockers. 

“Just block it out,” Mason assured him.

“They know,” Liam whispered nervously.

“It’s just rumors. They don’t know anything.”

You looked between the two of them. You didn’t know anything either, but you could at least tell that Liam and Corey were different. For some people, that was enough to be upset about.

Before you could interject, someone else did.

“They know everything,” Corey told them, coming up from the hallway behind you. “Two sophomores on the lacrosse team were there last night.”

Mason shook his head, still trying to convince Liam, and maybe himself, that things were okay. “Yeah, but it was late. It was pitch-black out, and there was fog on the road.”

Corey frowned. “It was a clear night, a full moon, and a well lit intersection.”

“Look, I have to get out of here,” Liam hissed. 

“No,” Mason insisted. “If you leave, these rumors never stop. You gotta just convince them that you’re a regular kid.”

“I’m not a regular kid.”

You blinked, looking between them. “Wait, what happened last night?”

The three of them shared a glance. No one said anything. 

“Look, you can tell me. I already saw what happened in the library. I don’t care.”

Liam and Corey hesitated, but Mason spoke up. “Okay, I’ll tell you.”

“Mason,” Corey hissed. 

“Come on, she already has all the pieces. She just hasn’t put them together yet. It’s safer for her to know the whole story.”

Corey didn’t look convinced. He was eyeing you carefully with his arms crossed over his chest. Defensive. 

“You’re right,” Liam told Mason, but when you looked into his eyes, he looked scared.

“Can you come with us?” Mason asked you.

You nodded and they led you away from the main hallway. You followed them into a quiet chemistry lab, where they locked the door behind them. There, they explained everything. 

Finding out that Liam and Corey were both supernatural creatures was a lot to take in. If there was nothing else going on, you might have needed more time to process everything. However, the news that a group of werewolf hunters was targeting and killing your friends seemed to override the shock. 

They explained that wasn’t their only problem, because after Liam had shifted in front of half the town last night, everyone, including the kids at your high school, seemed to know that he wasn’t human. 

“So,” you finally said. “What do we do?”

“Good question,” Liam said. “Cause I have no idea.”

“Remember what Scott said?” Mason asked him. 

Scott was the assistant coach for the lacrosse team, but he was only a couple years older than you. He hung out with you guys a lot, and he always seemed like a sweet, caring guy. You guessed he was probably in on the secret too. 

“He said ‘Be like Clark Kent’.”

Liam looked exasperated. “Clark Kent turns into a guy with a red and blue outfit and a cape. I turn into a monster with claws and fangs.”

“Then just get through the day without shifting,” Corey told him.

“Liam,” Mason said softly. “People are saying that Brett and Lori died in a car accident. We know the truth. They didn’t just die.”

You sucked in a breath. “They were murdered?”

Liam’s face softened. “The people who are after us are dangerous, Y/n. They’ll kill us, and anyone else that gets in the way. That means you too.”

“I don’t care,” you insisted. “You guys are my best friends. I’m not just gonna run and hide, especially if I can help.”

You reached out to grab his hand and squeeze it. His lips turned up at the corners, if only for a moment. 

“Then you’re with us now.”

You all agreed that Liam would try to keep cool. The rest of you would try to listen out for anything that might suggest someone was coming after him. Mason and Corey left the chemistry lab to head to their first period classes, leaving you and Liam alone together. 

You were both supposed to head to your own classes, but you lingered for a moment. 

“So...you’re not afraid?” he asked sheepishly. 

You shook your head. “Liam, I know who you are. Having claws and fangs doesn’t change that, even if it’s a little weird.”

He smiled. “A little?”

“Okay, maybe a lot,” you admitted with a grin. “But that just means you can eat the people that piss me off on a full moon.”

Liam frowned. “Werewolves don’t eat people on full moons.”

“So what do they do?”

“Exactly what we’ve been doing every full moon for the past two years. Eating junk food and playing video games.”

You thought for a moment. “And you have super reflexes?”

He nodded. “Yeah, basically.

 “So why do you suck so bad at COD then?”

Liam rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. He was relieved you were still treating him the way you always had. Telling you about the supernatural was always something he had wanted to do. You were one of his best friends, and he had always felt wrong hiding it from you.

He had thought about admitting his secret countless times before, but something had always stopped him. What you didn’t know was that Liam had always thought of you as more than a friend. He was pretty sure you felt the same way, but he had never asked you out.

Scott had questioned him about it once on the way home from a pack movie night. They had dropped you off at home, and as he pulled away from the curb in his mom’s sedan, he was looking at Liam with a smile on his face. 

“What?” Liam had asked. 

“Why don’t you ask her out?”

Liam flushed. Scott grinned at him. “I haven’t seen you look at anyone like that since Hayden.”

“I don’t know,” Liam said. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. “She likes you too. You can’t tell?”

“I know she does. It’s just...with everything going on, I don’t want to drag her into this.”

Scott nodded. “I get it...but you can’t spend your whole life doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Sacrificing your happiness to keep people safe. Even when you do that, they’re never really safe.”

“I don’t know,” Liam mumbled, glancing out the window into the darkness. 

“I had to learn that the hard way,” Scott had told him. “But maybe you do too.”

Now, as he stood across from you, he didn’t want to leave the chemistry lab. He wanted to hide in there with you for as long as he could and tell you everything, including how he felt about you. Before he could get the chance, you spoke. 

“Come on,” you said, nodding toward the hallway. “Let’s make sure you stay alive so I can beat your ass again this weekend.”

He had missed his moment, but he smiled at you anyway. “Can I walk you to class?”

“Duh.”

You looped your arm through his and headed out into the hall, ignoring the stares and fearful looks the entire way. 

------

You met up again in biology class, which you all had together. When you sat down at the table next to Liam, he pulled you close to whisper in your ear. 

Your heart skipped when he placed his hand on your arm, but he was too agitated to notice. 

“Nolan and Gabe are going to try to force me to shift. Corey said they’re going to block all the exits.”

You frowned. “Then we have to find a way to sneak you out.”

You glanced behind you, where Corey and Mason were sharing a table. 

“We’ve got a plan for that."

Mason explained that Corey could make himself and Liam invisible. They would sneak out down the halls and hopefully find an exit that wasn’t guarded by lacrosse players. 

When the bell finally rang, the four of you headed out of class. Corey and Liam slipped behind a pillar and disappeared into thin air. You and Mason led the way as they shuffled behind you, completely unseen. 

The four of you hurried through the school, but every exit you passed was blocked by an angry-looking lacrosse player.

“What do we do?” you muttered to Mason.

“Just keep going.”

You turned down another hallway, only to run right into Nolan. He was standing in the middle of the hallway with a few other lacrosse players. Gabe was right behind him. You and Mason stopped short at the sight.

“Hey guys,” Nolan said. His tone was casual, but there was no friendliness in his eyes.

Before you could attempt to go around him or the others, he stepped in front of you. His hands were curled tightly into fists.

“What are you doing?” you asked him.

“You should leave, Y/n. You shouldn’t get in the middle of all this. You’ll get hurt.”

You frowned. “Nolan, please.”

His gaze softened. He looked like he wanted to say something more, but then he simply opened his hand and blew a handful of white powder at you. The smell of flour drifted through the air as you and Mason were dusted. You felt terror grip you as you realized that Corey and Liam were covered too, making them suddenly visible.

You turned in horror, but before you could make a move, Gabe darted forward and threw Liam to the floor. Both Gabe and Nolan hauled him up, dragging him down the empty hall and into a deserted classroom. The other lacrosse players didn’t bother to grab you or Mason. Instead, they flooded into the classroom behind the others.

Some students passing by followed suit, eager to watch the fight they sensed was about to happen. 

“Wait here,” Mason told you, darting after them. 

He shoved his way into the classroom, ready to come to Liam’s rescue, but he was immediately grabbed by two lacrosse players. You frantically looked around for Corey, but he had disappeared again. You only hoped he was hiding somewhere safe, just in case they were planning on coming for him next. 

With Corey nowhere to be found, you shouldered your way into the classroom, but you were trapped behind the sea of kids trying to catch the action. 

You watched in horror as Nolan landed a punch to Liam’s face, causing blood to run from his nose. They shoved him to the ground, kicking and punching him. Every time Liam seemed to be close to snapping, he seemed to hold himself back. You were relieved, but you also weren’t sure how long he could keep that up.

“You’re fighting it!” you heard Nolan snap. 

Your blood boiled. You were sick to your stomach with both rage and terror. Liam was getting his ass handed to him. He couldn’t even fight back. 

You watched as Gabe snatched a tuft of Liam’s brown hair. He yanked him up from the classroom floor, only to slam his knee into Liam’s face. You flinched.

“What is going on here?!”

Suddenly the clicking of heels sounded from down the hallway. Mrs Finch was striding over, and the crowd of kids parted for her. Instead of looking angry, she just seemed scared as she realized what was happening. 

“Do something!” Mason pleaded, but Mrs. Finch just held up her hands, as if she were surrendering. 

“Sometimes it’s best to let them work things out on their own,” she told him, before turning back down the hall. 

Kids stared in shock, dumbfounded at her response. You took the opportunity to shove your way into the space she had left in the crowd. As you got closer, you saw that Liam was lying on his back. Blood was streaming from his nose, his mouth, and various other cuts on his face. 

Gabe was kneeling over him, punching him over and over. He raised his arm to land another blow, and that was when you moved forward. You had no idea what had gotten into you, but you couldn’t watch another second of Liam’s suffering. 

Gabe grunted in surprise as you knocked him to the ground. The two of you spilled onto the tiled floor, but he quickly recovered. He yanked your head back by your hair, causing you to cry out. 

Before you could register what was happening, pain was shooting through your skull. He had punched you so hard that it left you lying on the floor, dazed and seeing white for a few seconds. 

“Gabe-” Nolan began to say, but he was cut off. “Is this what’s gonna do it, Liam?” Gabe demanded, pulling you off the floor by your hair. “Maybe you won’t change if we beat your ass, but what about hers?”

Tears were streaming down your face, blurring your vision. You could still see Liam's eyes glowing yellow though. As much as it hurt, you weren’t willing to be the reason he shifted in front of everyone. 

“Liam,” you begged. “Don’t.”

You could taste your own blood on your lips. Judging by the look on Liam’s face, you probably looked terrible, even from the single punch. You knew they were going to do much worse.

Gabe balled his hand into a fist once more, and you closed your eyes, bracing for the next punch. 

“What the hell is going on?! Back off!”

Suddenly, Gabe was ripped off of you by the back of his shirt. His fingers uncurled from your hair, and you dropped to the ground on your hands and knees. 

“Get to the Principal's office now!” Coach Finstock was screaming. 

He had Gabe and Nolan by their shirts, and he practically tossed them out the door and into the hallway. He looked absolutely livid. You had never seen Coach so angry. He gazed out at the crowd of students around you.

“What the hell is this?” He demanded. “Get out, all of you! I can’t stand to look at your faces!”

The crowd dispersed, and Mason was let go. You scrambled over to Liam, who was still on his back. He was taking short, gasping breaths and his face was covered in his own blood, but he looked relieved. He coughed as the four of you, including Corey, who had reappeared, helped him off the ground. One of his arms was slung over your shoulder, and the other was slung over Mason’s.

Mason stared at him in awe. “I can’t believe you did that...and Y/n, I can’t believe you just tackled Gabe. That was insane.”

Liam nodded, looking between the three of you. “Clark Kent, right?” he muttered. 

“Yeah,” Mason breathed. “Clark Kent.”

Liam glanced over at you. He felt a lump in his throat when he saw the state of your face. There was a small gash on your cheek from where Gabe had punched you. A trickle of blood was making its way down to your jaw, and your lip was split open. The worst part was the bruising. The blood could be cleaned up, but the bruise that was beginning to form would be there for a while. That side of your face was also beginning to swell.

His blood was boiling. He wanted to tear Gabe and Nolan apart. In that moment, he didn’t care who saw. Then you spoke. 

“Liam,” you said softly. “I’m okay. I promise.”

You squeezed his hand. The feel of your fingers wrapped around his seemed to ground him. The tension melted from his shoulders. 

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

------

“God, I have no idea how I’m going to explain what happened to your parents.”

You looked over at Liam from the passenger seat of his Toyota. He had a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. You raised your eyebrows.

“Why do you have to explain?” 

“Because I’m your best friend. I’m supposed to protect you...and everything that happened is my fault anyway.”

You lifted the bag of frozen peas that Coach had given you off your cheek. He had assured you it would bring down the swelling, but you were skeptical.  You pulled down the visor in front of you and glanced at your wounded face in the mirror. 

            Mason had cleaned the blood off with the lacrosse team first aid kit, but there was a visible gash where Gabe’s knuckles had connected with your cheekbone. The bruise, now a deep blue-ish purple, spread out across your cheek. Your lip was also busted and there was no way you’d be able to hide it.

“It’s not your fault. I’ll just tell my parents the truth. Someone was getting their ass kicked and I stepped in to stop them. Well, I tried anyway.”

“Okay, now you’re kind of making me sound like a little bitch.”

You shrugged, and you and Liam both burst out laughing. The movement in your face caused you to wince and Liam’s expression darkened. 

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep saying that.”

“I feel like I do.”

“You don’t,” you assured him. “Liam, none of this was your fault. It’s the hunters and Nolan, and that fucking psycho Gabe. Plus, I’m the one who tackled him…”

He didn’t answer right away. He was anxiously chewing on his lip, staring out the windshield. 

“Liam?”

“I think you need to leave town.”

You balked at him. “What? No way!”

“Gabe could have done a lot worse to you. Now he knows you’re involved. Staying here could get you killed. You and Mason both.”

“So what are we supposed to do?” you demanded. “Just run away?”

“Yeah. That’s exactly what you should do. I can’t protect you, Y/n. I can’t protect anyone.”

“I can protect myself-”

“No you can’t!” he snapped. “Look at your face!”

You flinched back at his sharp tone. Wordlessly, you turned away, slouching down in your seat to stare out the window. Maybe he was right, but his words had touched a nerve.

Liam wasn’t trying to hurt you, but he was terrified. If he couldn’t even protect you from Gabe, how was he supposed to protect you from trained hunters?

“Y/n...I’m sorry. I’m not saying you’re not strong. I just…I can’t lose you.”

You felt a flutter in your chest. Taking a deep breath, you looked back over at him. 

“Even if you can’t protect me, why would I leave you? If someone’s trying to kill you, I want to help. Even if it means getting hurt...even if it means dying. I can’t just leave.”

“I can’t be the reason something happens to you,” Liam protested. 

“You wouldn’t be,” you pointed out. “If these people are coming after you, that’s them. Not you.”

He shook his head and you could tell he was trying to work something out inside his head. He was about to turn down the street to Scott’s neighborhood, but he hesitated for a moment. You were both supposed to be at a pack meeting, but now he was having second thoughts about bringing you.

“Maybe I should just take you home. I promise I’ll come and get you as soon as this is over,” he swore.

“I can’t just leave you.”

“You can,” he insisted, pulling up to the nearest curb. Scott’s house was still a few blocks away.��

“If you want me to leave you, you’re gonna have to pick me up and carry me kicking and screaming out of town,” you told him stubbornly.

“Fine,” he said with a shrug. “Then that’s what I’ll do. I’ll throw you over my shoulder. I don’t care.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not serious.”

“I am!” he shouted. “You don’t realize how much danger you’re in.”

“You’re Clark Kent, right?” you demanded. “What if I’m Lois Lane then? I don’t remember her ever running away.”

He opened his mouth to protest. This wasn’t a comic book. It was real life, and you could die. But as you stared at him defiantly, he realized you already knew that. 

Asking you to leave him would have been like asking him to leave Scott and the others.

“Fine,” he said.

He put the car back into drive and pulled away from the curb. You drove in silence for a couple minutes, until he pulled into a driveway you presumed was Scott’s. There were several other cars out front. You recognized Stiles’ rickety, blue jeep right away, along with Lydia’s Martin’s Toyota and Scott’s motorcycle.

“Promise me you’ll just think about leaving?” he asked. “Just think about it.”

“Fine,” you told him.

Liam eyed you. “You’re lying.”

“So you can read minds now too?” you demanded. 

“Your heart skips when you lie. I can hear it.”

He slammed the door behind him, but came around to open yours for you nonetheless. You could tell he was pissed at you for saying you wouldn’t leave, but he would do the exact same thing and you knew it. 

As you followed Liam into the house, you saw a group of people clustered around the coffee table, examining a map. You recognized Scott, his mom, Malia, Lydia and two other men you didn’t know. One was tall with dark hair, and he was wearing a suit. There was an FBI badge hanging from his neck. The other was shorter, with piercing blue eyes. 

“...no one can leave,” the taller one was saying. “Gerard’s distributed all of his weapons throughout Beacon Hills, to anyone who wants them.”

The shorter one looked grim. “He’s arming his army.”

You turned toward Liam, wanting to ask what they were talking about. Before they could, Lydia, who had been staring vacantly out the window, yelled “Get down!”

She pulled Mason to the floor just as two arrows flew through the glass windows at the front of the house, shattering them. A bright flash spread across the room, blinding you just after you saw Malia shove Scott down. Liam tackled you to the floor, covering his body with yours.

Gunfire echoed across the room, and you felt a sharp, stinging pain in your side. You cried out, and Liam pressed himself harder on top of you. You closed your eyes, terrified of what would happen next. 

Suddenly, the gunfire stopped. You glanced up, and saw the taller man, who you now realized bore a striking resemblance to Scott, stand up. He must have been his father, you realized, as he drew his weapon from a holster on his side.

Liam pushed himself up, but when he did, he realized there was blood soaking through his t-shirt. When he felt for a wound, he realized it wasn’t his blood, but yours.

You were lying below him, and a pool of dark, red blood was staining your right side, soaking into your shirt and your jeans. 

“Liam, what happened?” you whispered. Your voice was soft and scared.

“No!” he shouted, looking around frantically for the others. 

But Mason and Melissa were both unconscious on the floor, lying in their own pools of blood, which were slowly widening on the floor. Lydia was bleeding, but awake, and she was using a hand to prop herself up using the coffee table. Scott’s dad was groaning in pain, one hand holding pressure over his bloody arm.

Everyone was hurt. Everyone needed help. 

When Liam looked back down at you, your eyes were closed. Your breathing was growing shallow, and he resisted the urge to scream. He reached down, frantically pressing both hands over your bleeding side. 

“Scott!” he cried. “What do we do?”

The alpha, riddled with bullet holes himself, struggled to his feet. 

“I don’t know.”

------

“You doing okay?”

Liam looked up at the sound of Scott’s voice. The older boy was looking down at him sympathetically, and Liam felt a twinge of annoyance. 

“Not really.”

“Mind if I sit?” Scott asked. 

“Sure,” Liam said, looking back down at the floor. 

The flimsy chair next to him groaned as Scott sat down. He had two plastic-wrapped breakfast bagels in his hands, one of which he held out to Liam. 

“No thanks.”

“Come on, you haven’t eaten since last night.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Okay.” He set the bagels on the side table next to them. “You know the nurse said she was awake. You don’t wanna go see her?”

Liam was silent. His mouth was pressed into a grim line.

“Liam,” Scott said softly. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“I brought her to your house,” he grumbled. “I was trying to get her to leave town, but she wouldn’t. So I agreed that I wouldn’t make her.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “God, I should have just dragged her out of town myself.”

“She’ll be okay,” Scott reminded him. “The bullet didn’t hit anything important.”

“Yeah, and it’s a miracle it didn’t. I could have gotten her killed, Scott.”

Scott reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Liam, look at me.”

Finally, he did. His blue eyes met Scott’s brown ones, and he felt himself tearing up, though he hated himself for it. He had forced himself not to cry all night, afraid that once he did, he would completely break down. 

But now, as the tears slipped down his cheeks, he couldn’t stop them. “It’s my fault she got hurt, Scott. This is what I was afraid of, and it happened.”

“None of this is your fault.”

Scott leaned over and brought Liam into a tight hug. “Remember when I told you that sacrificing your happiness doesn’t always keep people safe?”

Liam nodded. 

“You couldn’t have stopped this. Whoever was shooting at us was going to do it regardless. Who’s to say they wouldn’t have gone after her when you weren’t with her?”

“I could have made her leave town though.”

“No you couldn’t have. Making her leave you would have been like making you leave us. You never would have done it.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

Scott smiled and pulled away from the younger boy. “I know I’m right. I’ve been doing this for a while, remember? I know you feel like you’re responsible, but you’re not. She made her choice, and it was the exact same one you would have made.”

Liam nodded. 

“I think you’re perfect for each other, actually,” Scott continued. “You’re both stubborn as hell.”

“Yeah,” Liam said with a soft laugh. “We are.”

“Go see her. I’m sure you guys have a lot to talk about.”

Liam nodded and rose to his feet. “Thanks.”

Scott smiled in response, and Liam headed down the hall to your room. The nurse had given him the number a few hours ago, but he was afraid to visit you. He knew you wouldn’t be mad at him, but it was his own guilt he hadn’t been able to get past. Now he knew he couldn’t control what happened to you, and it wasn’t fair to punish you by staying away. 

He knocked on the wooden door, and heard your soft voice say “Come in.”

When he pushed it open, you were lying there, propped up against the pillows. You smiled when he entered, and he felt relief rush through him. Even in a hospital gown, you still looked beautiful.

He strode forward and leaned in, wrapping his arms around you. You buried your face in his shoulder, hugging him back. 

“I was worried you weren’t going to show,” you admitted. 

Liam flushed. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure if I should come.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you told him. “I knew you’d feel like it was. That’s why I told Scott to go talk to you.”

He balked at you. “You...you told Scott to come talk to me?”

You nodded. “He came in to check on me once my parents left to eat. When you weren’t with him, I figured you’d be beating yourself up about it.”

Scott had been right. You really were perfect for each other. 

“You’re still in this mess because of me.”

“Yeah, but I made the choice to stay. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. You’re telling me you wouldn’t do the exact same thing?”

He sighed and lowered himself down into the chair next to your bed. “No, I would’ve.”

“Look, there’s something I need to tell you,” you admitted. “I could never have left you, Liam. I know you wanted me to go, but if I’m gonna die, I’d rather do it with you. I love you too much to run away.”

He reached out, placing his hand over yours. “It wasn’t like I wanted to be away from you. I just thought that you would be safer. I was afraid of...well, this.”

He gestured to you, lying in the hospital bed. 

“Oh come on,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “I’m fine. Plus, I’m gonna have a kickass scar. It’ll be just like a video game.”

You reached down and pulled up your hospital gown, revealing the gauze over your side. “I’m gonna look like a total badass.”

Liam grinned. “You already are a total badass.”

You smiled up at him, and he felt his heart skip. Without hesitating any longer, he leaned in, cupping your face with his hands and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Being gentle wasn’t exactly his strong suit, but your bottom lip was still busted from when Gabe had punched you. 

“I love you,” he murmured, pulling back to look down at your face. “And whatever happens, I want you by my side.”

You nodded. “Me too.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, and you shifted to the other side of the hospital bed. You patted the space beside you. 

“Are we allowed to do that?” he asked. 

“I just got shot,” you complained. “I should be able to do whatever I want.”

Without another thought, Liam crawled up beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close so that your side was pressed against his. You snuggled into him, and for the first time in months, he felt like everything would be okay.

[helliontherapscallion]

Warmth (Adrenaline Junkie Part 6)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 7     Part 8     Part 9     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 14     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: Self harm scars, mentions of panic attacks and hallucinations

Word count: 2,842

(A/N): This takes place about 6 months after the last chapter. Also, I was heavily inspired by Toothless’ prosthetic, I’m really excited to write more about it : )

You hummed to yourself as you walked down the cobblestone street of the village. The village was probably one of your favorite places to visit; it had quaint little shops and stalls decorating the main plaza that you adored, it was always interesting to see what’s being sold today. Though you always wore your cloak to cover your wings (well, wing and a now-feathered nub) whenever you visited to avoid the stares, you still regularly visited the main plaza for the shops. 

The first time you visited after the incident was about a month ago with Wilbur, you two were looking for something to cook for dinner. You were trying to get used to having your wings out again, so you were wearing the jacket with the slits in the back that you always used to wear. 

The feeling of people staring holes into you was a feeling you forgot about. You always got stares whenever you went into the village because of your wings, but now it felt like more and more people were staring at you as you passed them, probably because of your nub. Though some looked at you in pity, most looked at you with disgust.

You could hear children asking their mothers what happened to you. Their mothers would take one look at you and shield their children away from you staring at you with disgust. You even made one kid cry when he saw your wing; you didn’t blame him, you still couldn’t look at your nub without tearing up. An hour hasn’t even passed before you were asked by a police officer to leave because you were causing a disruption and being indecent in public.

Wilbur was pissed. “They’re fully clothed and they didn’t even talk to anybody, so how exactly were they being disruptive or indecent?”

The officer firmly held her ground, looking up to Wilbur’s tall form. “Sir, the people are complaining and it’s my job to make the public feel safe and comfortable. Look,” she sighed, “I really don’t want to have to ask them to leave, they’re not doing anything to directly threaten people. However, they are causing a disturbance with their,” she wrinkled her nose, “their thing, so I’m going to have to ask them to leave.”

“You have absolutely no right to tell them to leave. They-”

“Wilbur, it’s fine. I’ll leave,” turning back to the officer, you calmly stated “I’m sorry for causing a disturbance ma’am. It won’t happen again.”

She curtly nodded and stood watching you, probably making sure that you left the main plaza. Before you could turn to leave, Wilbur stopped you.

“(Y/n)-”

“No, Wilbur. It’s alright, I can wait outside the village for you.”

He sighed, looking through his leather satchel. “No, you won’t have to wait for me. We’ve got enough food for dinner anyways,” shooting one last heated glare at the police officer, he reached down to grab your hand. “Let’s go.”

He drug you quickly through the village with you having a little trouble keeping up with his long strides. Once you were out of the village, he slowed his pace and walked with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“(Y/n), I’m sor-”

“Don’t be Wil. It isn’t your fault. I honestly was expecting to get kicked out earlier.”

“Still, it’s not fair to you. You didn’t ask for this.” 

“I know Wil, I’ll just wear my cloak next time I visit.”

He didn’t say anything to you after that. The rest of the walk home was shrouded in an awkward silence. 

Another part of the village you loved was the library. It had tall shelves filled to the brim with all sorts of books and various cushioned furniture littered randomly amongst the maze of shelves. Whoever would walk into the library would immediately be hit by the strong scent of parchment and wood as soon as they would walk through the twin doors. You would usually browse books about redstone, but you had a different agenda today.

Today, you were looking for a book about leather working. You wanted to make a leather prosthetic wing so you could at least glide through the air. You weren’t sure if it would work though. From what you’ve read, nobody’s attempted to make a prosthetic wing. It made sense, being a hybrid was rare in and of itself, let alone a winged hybrid. 

You missed flying more than anything. You would give anything to be able to be in the air again. You felt jittery and restless without flight. Sure, Philza took you on some flights with him every now and then, but it wasn’t the same. You yearned for the independence and liberation it gave you to fly alone.

After you found a book and checked it out with the librarian, you hastily set out for home. You were walking with a giddy smile on your face and a bounce in your step. Several people gave you strange looks as you passed them, but you were in too good of a mood to care. You finally figured out a way you could possibly fly again. 

When you got home, you headed straight to your workshop to get to work on your prosthetic. Several blueprints were hung up around your desk, some for your TNT launcher (which you finished a few weeks ago) and others contained ideas for an automatic farm. Your pride and joy was hung up in the center of your bulletin board. It made you extremely happy just by looking at the prosthetic sketch.

Your redstone lamp illuminated the space in front of you as you focused on cutting a large strip of leather in front of you with great concentration. You needed to get the measurements exactly right, equal sized wings are integral for stability midair. The prosthetic was going to be about the same size as your left wing with thin iron rods giving the wing structure. You planned on making it identical to a bat’s wing with a few minor changes in shape to match your other wing. Once it actually was structurally sound and working, you would add proper joints so you could wear it around and decorate it. Until then, you’re making adjustments.

When you were done, you moved on to crafting and melding together the iron rods. Putting on your goggles and thick leather gloves, you used a bit of lava your family kept stored in another room in the basement to fuse the thin iron rods together. You carefully dipped one end of two rods into the bucket before pulling it out at a certain time to hold the molten ends together until they cooled. You repeated this process until you were melding the last piece on.

“HEY BITCH, DINNER’S READY. GET IT WHILE IT’S HOT!”

Yelping, you dropped the mold onto your desk. You picked it up in a panic without paying attention to where your arms went. Unknowingly, your sleeved arm was pressing up against the scorching iron of the bucket of lava.

“FUCK YOU YA FILTHY GREMLIN, A LITTLE WARNING WOULD’VE BEEN NICE!”

He started cackling. “FUCK YOU TOO! NOW GET UP HERE BEFORE I EAT YOUR DINNER.”

“YOU BETTER FUCKING NOT. I SWEAR TO- FUCK!”

You felt the nerves on the side of your forearm screaming as you yanked it away, leaving the crisp remains of a part of your sleeve stuck to the iron bucket. Two pairs of footsteps boomed down the steps and got louder as they rapidly approached you. 

Wilbur’s deep voice worriedly called out to you. “Shit, (y/n) are you alright? Let me see.”

Before you could protest, he gently grabbed your wrist and pulled the sleeve of your jacket down. Adjoining the light burn, small horizontal scars and some fresh cuts lined your forearms. Shit, they were never supposed to find out.

Wilbur’s hand froze, gripping your wrist with an iron grip. You hissed at the feeling of some of your cuts reopening, causing him to quickly retract his hand. He now had his hands hovering over your arm unsure of what to do with them.

“(Y/n), wha-” Tommy cut himself off once he saw the panicked look on his older brother’s face. Following his gaze, his wide eyes met with your cuts.

You sighed, prying the goggles off from your face and pulling the gloves off from your hands. You put on a calm exterior, contrary to what you felt on the inside. They were never supposed to know. “Listen, you guys weren’t supposed to find out about this. None of you were. Please don’t tell Dad or Technoblade, I don’t need more people knowing.”

Tommy spoke up with an incredulous look. “(Y/n), what do you mean? We can’t just not tell them.”

“I know. Please, do it for me? Everything’s finally going back to normal and this will just make everything worse again. I promise I’ll stop, I swear.”

The two brothers looked at each other silently contemplating what they should do. On one hand, you were their sibling and you were hurting yourself. They needed to tell their dad that you were cutting. You only had two lives left and you could kill yourself doing that. Philza and Techno could help. On the other hand, they wanted you to feel normal in your own home. You were right in the fact that everything was starting to feel like it did before the incident. Plus, they would gladly help you through it.

They looked back at you with apprehensive expressions, speaking at the same time. 

“(Y/n), we’re not gonna tell Dad or Techno.”

“We’re telling them.”

Tommy whipped his head up to look at his brother angrily. “Wilbur, we need to tell them.”

“Tommy, no-”

“Are you fucking stupid? Of course we have to-”

“Tommy. We don’t because I’ll be taking every sharp object away from them tonight. We’ll watch them and check their wrists to make sure that there’s no new cuts and they stay clean. We’ll help them.”

“But- they,” Tommy gave a frustrated sigh. “Fine. But we at least have to tell Techno about this. He can help us.”

Wilbur glanced at you with apologetic eyes. Before he could speak up, you interrupted him. “...Alright, as long as Dad doesn’t find out. He has enough to stress out about and he doesn’t need to worry about me again. Now, can we go upstairs for dinner? We’ve been down here for long enough already and Dad’s probably wondering why. Tell him that I’m gonna go clean up.”

Without giving them any room to argue, you speeded up the stairs and into your room. Closing the door and leaning your back on it, you let your calm facade drop into a panicked one. Shit, what if Tommy tells Dad? What were you supposed to do then? He’ll take away what little freedom you had left and you’ll be sinking into the depths of your depression again. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock and Philza’s voice. You held your breath as you prepared yourself for him to tell you that he knows your secret. “Hey hun, Wilbur and Tommy told me that you burned yourself,” you let out a relieved sigh. “Do you need me to look at it?”

Panic once again flared in your bloodstream. “N-no Dad, it’s just a little burn. I’ll be down in just a second I’m changing.”

“You sure? I can get you a potion.”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“...Alright,” he sounded skeptical. “Just hurry up, dinner’s getting cold.”

The sound of his retreating footsteps sounded like music to your ears. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths before you moved to put on a long sleeved shirt. 

Dinner was uncharacteristically quiet without Tommy, you, or Wilbur talking. Philza tried to carry the conversation with you four, but only Technoblade gave full responses. You, Tommy, and Wilbur only supplied a few words to a conversation when prompted. 

Technoblade was suspicious. Sure, you and Wilbur were quiet sometimes, but Tommy? Tommy’s always loud and rambunctious. Something’s wrong, but what? What could’ve happened when Tommy and Wilbur went to go get you for dinner? They weren’t gone for long. He did hear you screaming profanities at Tommy for scaring you and overheard Tommy telling Philza about how you burned yourself, but how is that something that would shut you three up? He was going to confront his siblings after he finished tonight’s dishes. 

Meanwhile, you, Tommy, and Wilbur were in your room. You were giving them your iron dagger.

“Is this all?”

“Yeah, Tommy. That’s all, search my room if you don’t believe me. I wouldn’t mind, I don’t have anything to hide from you anymore.”

They did just that. Looking under your bed, in your drawers, in your closet, and in the chest you kept for your supplies. You watched them propped up on your bed. While you were angry with yourself that you were so careless, you felt warm that they cared about you. They were great brothers.

After they were done turning your room upside down, Wilbur plopped down next to you and Tommy threw himself over your legs. You three laid there for a while just enjoying each other’s presence. It was nice to spend some time with your brothers, you didn’t get much free time to spend with them because you spent most of your time in your workshop.

The silence was broken by Tommy. “...So, how do you wanna go about telling Technoblade?”

“I’m… not exactly sure. Do we even have to tell him?”

Wilbur pursed his lips. “Even if you didn’t want to, I’m pretty sure he knows something’s up. He’s good at picking up on social cues.”

“Well if that’s the case, I might just wait until he comes to me. It’ll be easier.”

Your door swung open to reveal your piglin hybrid brother. He looked at you with a single eyebrow raised as his ear flicked. “What were you planning on telling me?”

Tommy and Wilbur looked at you expectantly. You shifted your body closer to the wall making room on your bed for him. He walked over and stiffly sat on the edge of your mattress. He gestured for you to talk to him. You slowly slid your sleeve down and showed him your arm. Besides his eyebrows slightly crinkling, he was as stoic as ever when he reached out to grab your wrist for a better look.

On the inside, the voices were almost as loud as when you died. They were nearly incoherent as several angry voices mixed together yelling at him for not noticing anything was wrong with you, the kid he vowed to protect when you first stole his crown and replaced it with a homemade paper one. Outside of the voices, he was furious at himself, he was supposed to protect you. He ran his fingers along the raised lines, gently tracing over every scar and scabbed over cut as if memorizing where every single one lays.

His monotone voice was gruff. “How long? Why?”

“About eight months now. I-I didn’t feel anything for a while after I respawned and I realized that pain helped me feel. It helped ground me when I hallucinated or had panic attacks.”

“...Do you feel anything now?”

“Yeah, I’m getting better Tech. I’m hallucinating less and I’m getting better at managing anxiety attacks. At this point, it's just a habit that I can’t drop.” 

“Do you want to drop it?”

You fell silent. You never really considered stopping before. Before, you would do it to give yourself something to focus on when you were overwhelmed, but now you would do it out of habit. It somehow felt wrong when you skipped a session and it usually threw your entire day off. You would feel drained for the entire day if you didn’t do it. It was one of the only consistent things in your life.

“(Y/n), c’mon you don’t want to keep doing this, right?” Tommy asked before Wilbur reached over and slapped him upside his head. 

“I think,” you breathed out, unsure of yourself, “I want to get better.”

Techno looked at his brothers. “Did you two take their blades?”

Tommy held up the iron dagger and wove it around haphazardly in the air. Techno reached over and pocketed the dagger before discarding his golden crown and placing it on your nightstand. He took off his weighted fluffy cloak and neatly draped it over a nearby chest. He maneuvered his body so that he was laying on your other side and wrapped a lazy arm over your chest. 

With Wilbur on your right side with your wing draped over him, Tommy laying on your stomach with Wilbur reaching down to hold him, and Techno pulling you close to his body, you were pleasantly warm. You were slowly drifting off, being lulled to sleep by Techno’s slow heartbeat. You blissfully fell asleep surrounded by your brothers’ love.

Inspo for the cuddle pile (credit goes to og artist, zillychu): https://zillychu.home.blog/tag/heart-squad-cuddle-pile/

Taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@acecarddraws  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @ravennightingaleandavatempus  @dirtydiavolo  @yeiras-world  @immadatmostthings  @hee-hee-haw  @jackalopedoodles  @m1lkmandan  @vanhakirja  @im-a-depressed-gay  @coolleviauchihadreamerlove  @questioning-sanity  @camisascam

@bongwaterflavoredgatorade  @kakamiissad  @jayistrash  @lifestylesleep  @speedymaximoff  @sun-shark-tooth  @appetiteofapeoplepleaser  @starchildnatalya  @kinismanditory  @dragons-lurk-here  @rinzyx05  @the-wandering-pan-ace  @sparkling-gayyyy  @angelic-scent  @shinipii  @dont-hug-me-im-a-fander  @izzydimensional  @used-avocado

[helpimobsessedwithpercyjackson]

If the demigod squad got summer jobs:

Piper works retail. Whenever a customer comes in and starts giving them a hard time she always takes them. The other workers don’t understand how she calms them down so easily. The store tries to get her to model some of their clothes but she refuses.

Percy’s a waiter, his restaurant is in the same center as Piper’s store and the library. He almost gets fired once because someone swore they saw him stab someone behind the restaurant (“Percy what the hell?” “it’s not my fault Dracanae like cheeseburgers!”) but Hazel comes in to work some Mist magic and it’s forgotten. Plus he’s really great with the customers and he’s very protective of the younger waiters (even though there’s not a huge age difference).

Annabeth’s at a library information desk. Every day her coworkers see her holding a book in some language they don’t understand, they assume she’s pretending to read it for attention. They’d think she was some loser with no friends except for the fact that every day during lunch she gets picked up by some really hot guy and this girl who they’re pretty sure is the daughter of a famous actor

Jason’s a camp counselor. He’s the one all the little kids gravitate to because he listens to everything they say and acts like it’s the most important thing in the world to him. He doesn’t talk about himself at all and once his fellow camp counselors googled him and they were so confused by the results they never asked about it.

Reyna teaches a fencing class. It’s mostly smaller boys and she loves teaching little kids. She’s their god. Once Jason brings his kids there on a field trip and they get into a match for demonstration, leaving everyone really confused by how well their counselor knows how to fence.

Hazel’s at a jewelry store in a mall. She makes sure the gems people return are authentic, her boss doesn’t understand why a teenager is so good at it but she’s never been wrong so he’s not going to complain. She wanted to find a job with horses but she couldn’t find one inside the city, so she stuck with something easy for her.

Frank works at the ice cream place in the same mall as Hazel. He claims it’s helping him practice ✨self control✨. That doesn’t stop him from telling everyone who walks in that he’s lactose intolerant.

Will’s an intern at a hospital. He mostly gets coffee and lunch for everone, but he loves it. He impresses everyone by how much he knows but makes it kinda awkward when he accidentally mentions the time he delivered a baby in a war zone and gets hit with a ton of questions

Leo doesn’t really want to work that hard, he’d rather work on his own projects, so he gets a job as a mechanic. They don’t usually hire teenagers but they let him try it out because during the interview he managed to make a miniature working car from the scraps in his pocket. He’s so fast that his hours are super short and they let him go in the back and work on his own stuff.

Nico works at McDonald’s. Percy put him up to it. If any costumer tries anything he just stares them down until they back off. He’s actually a super hard worker and everyone really likes him. He ends up working there year-round because he loves the routine so much

For lunch, Piper meets Percy at his restaurant, they get any available food and they go get Annabeth from the library. Jason eats lunch with his kids usually, but if he can he’ll go meet Reyna. Hazel and Frank have fun trying out all the different food kiosks at the mall. Will packs lunch for himself and Nico and they eat outside of the hospital (Nico won’t go in, the sense of death is too strong). Leo usually forgets to eat, but if he happens to notice it’s his lunch break he’ll either find Jason or meet up with Piper, Percy, and Annabeth.

To go home Percy picks up Piper and Annabeth then drives around New York picking everyone up. They spend the most time sitting outside the mechanic and the hospital waiting for Leo and Will, who always get caught up in something right before they leave and forget the time. 

[princessphilly]

Tag list:  @ohpuckyeah @joelsfarabee @besthockeyfics @dreamer1430 @defiant-mouse @miracleonice87 @lovethepreds @linkingdolans @chicagostylehockey @heatherlcrosby87 @hockeywocs @shortstacks-blog @heatherawoowoo @newlibrary @markymarkstrom @iangiemae @puckbitchesgetmoney @missymore @himbos-on-ice @fiveholegoal @no-pucks-given @pagirl6866 @willieshakesqueer @nazdaddy @whatishockey @alphalib22 @romanseggy @laurenairay @konecny-s @cutiesara23 @myhockeyworld87 @extratragic @squidlywiddly87 @stuff4me2do @allinangel93 @mydarkestsecretlol @t0xickisses2 @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @tangercrosbyschultzfan25887 @shelbsatans​

CW: soft smut, mentions of miscarriage, fucked up doctors. 

This is definitely it. Sid and Nina’s story is over but you will see them in the other fics of this universe, including a huge part of Plain Jane

Nina stared at the boxes. It was time to pack but at the same time, she couldn’t do it. 

They were so excited. A baby so early in their marriage had seemed scary but Sid and Nina were ready. They had picked out colors, a room for a nursery, and had begun to discreetly pick up supplies. 

It was nineteen weeks; still early but they were getting ready to announce. Then there was the blood in the toilet three days ago when Nina woke up and went to the bathroom. And now, their first, a girl, was gone. 

The doctor was sympathetic, and said it happens a lot. Most pregnancies never make it to birth, she said. But it hurt that their girl was now an angel. Nina sniffled as she packed the pack-and-play back into the box. 

“Hey, why are you doing that? You’re supposed to rest!”

Nina looked up, tears in her eyes. Sidney rushed to her, lowering himself to the floor. Gathering his wife in his arms, he soothed, “Pretty girl, we’ll have more.”

“But-but-“

Nina’s tears turned into sobs as she relaxed in her husband’s arms. Her momma had a history of miscarriages: what if that meant that there would never be a child?

As if he could read her mind, Sidney replied, “it doesn’t matter, I love you no matter what.”

**

Nina was sleeping, finally getting some rest. Matthew was napping on Sidney’s chest, his little boy still red but much calmer. 

It hadn’t been an easy birth for Nina. This was their third pregnancy but first child to make it past the 2nd trimester. And Matthew decided to come out three weeks early, November 26 instead of his due date of December 17. 

The door opened and Matthew stirred a bit before settling back down. Sidney looked around: his mother was curled into a chair, reading a book while Tracy was scrolling her phone on the couch. The proud grandfathers had gone out to get lunch for everyone. 

Walking in, the doctor said, “The nurse said Nina is healing nicely but we will have to do some stitches. Your son is a big boy.”

Sidney gave him a tentative grin. Matthew was 9lbs, 4 oz and 22 inches long. He was on the bigger side. The doctor continued, “When I stitch her, I can give her a husband stitch, if you like.”

“What is that,” Sidney asked, wrinkling his nose. 

Trina interjected, “Don’t you dare, Sidney.”

In a soothing voice, the doctor said, “it’s an extra stitch to make your wife as tight as she was before she gave birth.” He winked at Sidney. 

Sidney looked at his mother before responding, “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“No,” Nina managed to say, opening her eyes. “I heard about that stitch and I will sue if you do that to me.”

“You heard her.”

Sidney gave the doctor a hard look as he shrugged, preparing to give Nina only the necessary stitches. Passing his boy to his mother, Sidney said, “I’d like a different doctor.”

“What, I’ve been-”

Sidney took out his phone, ready to start making some calls. The doctor left, grumbling under his throat. Nina gave Sidney a grateful smile before dozing off again. 

**

One of the hardest things for Sidney was the fact that it was best for his boy not to grow up in Canada. As a proud Canadian, that rankled him. He wanted Matt to be more Canadian than American. But when a video of 2 year old Matt skating and hitting a puck dead center into the net made major news, Sidney knew he had no choice. He wanted Matt to have more of a childhood than him, to not feel like he had to be the next one. 

So, his family spent most of the year in Pittsburgh and summers in Cole Harbour or on different vacations. Sidney knew that his son was still “famous” but Matt was still treated as a kid. With Nina’s extended family, there wasn’t any preferential treatment. His kids were the same as their cousins in Nina’s family, giving his children normalcy Sidney never had as a child. 

Sidney raked a hand through his silver hair. As much as he wanted Matt to go his own way, it still freaked him out that his son chose to be a *goalie* out of all positions. He winced as he heard a shot hit the post. Then Matt made a glove save and Sid clapped.

“That’s not the talent I expected but he’s already showing signs of being a better goalie than center, Sid.”

Sidney turned to his longtime mentor and now close friend, Mario. Shrugging, he replied, “I just want him to be happy. He’s happy, I’m happy.” 

Sidney smirked. “Plus, Chloe is going to be the best woman’s hockey player ever. She’s 8 and she’s already playing with 10 to 12 year old girls.”

“True,” Mario conceded. “You’ve transitioned from pro to hockey dad.”

“Eh, can’t forget Aja and Morgan. I’m a hockey, figure skating, soccer, and dance dad. Not bad for a fifty year old washed up player.”

“Who’s washed up?”

Sidney grinned as his wife bumped him with her hip. His baby girl was holding Nina’s hand, her hair pulled up into a dancer’s bun. Chloe was right behind her, still clad in her hockey gear, Aja trailing behind with a book in her hands. 

“I am,” Sidney drawled. 

Chloe piped up, “No you’re not, Daddy! You’re still the best hockey player ever!”

“Yup,” Morgan added while Aja nodded, absorbed in her book. 

“No, you’ll be the best hockey player ever, Chlo’,” Aja stated, closing her book. “Daddy will be the best men’s hockey player.”

As Aja firmly nodded, Sidney and Mario laughed. 

**

Nina let out a breath. It was crazy how just one touch from Sidney made her hot, even seventeen years later. His lips were trailing down her neck, one hand cupping her breasts. “Can you be quiet for me, pretty girl?”

“Uh huh,” Nina breathed out. Sidney’s other hand was exploring her folds. She was getting wet but menopause was finally calling so Nina knew they would need some help. Leaning away from Sidney, she pulled out the lube from the drawer. 

“Thanks, pretty girl, but I’m more interested in burying my face in your pussy,” Sidney laughed. 

Nina replied softly, “No problem. You know my mom just came back from her cruise so the girls will go find her first this morning.”

“Even better. Spread your legs for me, pretty girl. You know what daddy wants.”

Nina let out a giggle that quickly turned into a muffled moan as she felt Sidney’s tongue gently lick through her pussy, his nose nudging her clit the way she liked it. He ate her slowly, bringing Nina close to the edge but never letting her go. Then Sidney stopped, kissing his way up Nina’s body before kissing her, letting Nina taste herself. 

Wrapping her legs around his waist, Nina urged, “Please, Sidney,” managing to keep her voice at a whisper. Before he could answer, they heard some girlish giggles and they both paused. 

“I locked the door last night,” Sidney whispered into Nina’s ear. Nina giggled then moaned as she felt Sidney’s fingers spread the cool lube over her pussy. Then he entered her, nice and slow.

“Love you, pretty girl,” Sidney whispered as Nina arched against him. She was clenching around his cock; he wanted to go slow and savor it this morning but Nina had different ideas. 

Nina whispered, “Love you, too,” her fingernails digging into his back. Then she squeaked as Sidney withdrew, turning her onto her hands and knees.  

**

“Momma, you promised to make breakfast today.”

Nina straggled into the kitchen, her robe wrapped tightly around her body. “Morg, it’s 9:30 in the morning on a Saturday, it’s still morning.”

Chloe piped up, “You’re usually up before us everyday, Momma.”

Nina shared a look with Sidney who squelched a laugh. He had planned to just go one round with his wife but it turned into three to start off the day right. 

Sighing, Nina grabbed bowls to prepare waffles. Morgan added, “Mimi made waffle batter already, Momma.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Nina sincerely stated. 

Tracey shrugged. “I figured I’d give you a break since I’ve been gone. You know I love my grand girls.”

Matthew yawned as he walked into the kitchen, his hair sticking up all over his head. “Hi,” he sleepily said before going to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of Gatorade. 

“It’s too early for energy drinks, Matt,” Sidney chided. 

“Sorry, Dad.”

Matthew was about three weeks from turning twelve and the whole teenage era was coming fast. Now, he was sleeping in and staying up late. Nina sighed, it was too early for one of her babies to grow up. 

“I would have woken up earlier but these girls had to jump on my bed at 7am, Dad,” Matthew complained. “They said your door was locked. Why do they always have to bother me?”

“Because we love you, Matty,” Aja said with a mischievous smile. “And some girl sent you messages while you were asleep.”

Matthew glared at his little sister. “Girls are ugly. Especially girls like you.”

Sid and Nina shared a look. Sid just had “the talk” with Matthew and they were both happy he still saw girls as ugly, at least for now. Tracey said, “Oh baby, that’s no way to talk to your little sister.”

“I’m sorry, Mimi,” Matthew said, giving his grandmother a kiss. “Momma, can we have blueberry waffles today?”

“Plain waffles,” Nina said firmly. “You can add blueberries, strawberries, or peaches as a fruit topping.”

“No chocolate chips?”

Chloe and Morgan gave their mother their biggest puppy-dog eyes. Nina shook her head. They then give Sidney the same look, saying together, “Daddy, can we have chocolate chips with our waffles?”

Sidney laughed as he picked up two of his girls. “You two already know the answer to that!”

Chloe pouted as Morgan laughed at the silly faces Sidney was making. Sidney added, “It’s Saturday so you know today is ice cream day after dinner. Did anyone feed Maddie?”

Nina giggled as she turned on the grill. At the mention of her name, Maddie, their dog, ran into the kitchen. Pharaoh, their cat, followed Maddie in, stretching before walking around her legs. As her family noisily talked, Nina sighed in happiness. She loved her family, life was perfect.

[miamlfy]

Gryffindor Scum

A/N: WOOH PART THREE IS FINALLY OUT! There was so many ways I could have written this part and I actually rewrote it a few times. This part is more centered on Draco rather than the reader but I guess this series is mostly on Draco. Feel free to give me feedback/ideas!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem! Reader

Summary: Draco has an unwelcoming experience with Blaise and Pansy. 

Warnings: Implied depression, Pansy, and a few swear words. Perhaps spelling/grammar mistakes as well. 

Word Count: 1,9k

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Enjoy!

(Not my gif, credit to whoever made it)

Draco laid wide awake on his bed, staring onto the ceiling. He spent hours tossing and turning, just wanting to fall asleep just like everyone else in the house, however, his body refused to shut down. Draco continued to glance down to Harry’s muggle alarm clock he had on his nightstand, 3:46am it read. He let out a sigh, your mum wanted everyone up by 6am. So much for a good night’s rest, he thought to himself. 

His stomach was filled with the nervous feeling, his whole life had changed for him during the summer and he knew life at Hogwarts would also change. If someone told his past self that he would be dating a half blood or better yet living amongst Gryffindors, he would’ve laughed in their faces and told them to fuck off. Draco would have never imagined that this would be his life now, not that he hated it. He loved it, every second of it. He loved being in a household which held warmth, love, and security. He loved having parental figures that asked him on the daily if he was okay but most of all, he loved having you at his side. 

You were there for him for anything he needed the minute he stepped foot into your house. At first, Draco was scared your relationship would have declined when he moved in but instead it got stronger and the love was blooming more than ever. They spent many nights together alone, talking about the present and the future. 

“If I become a professional Quidditch player and you a healer, you can help with any injuring I get.” You said while picking on the grass you were laying on. 

Draco chuckled besides you, “I’ll also be on the stands cheering you on and being the loudest there.” 

Those moments the two of you had are what kept Draco going. You were his world and his yours. He got so used to spending each day with you that he wasn’t sure if he’ll be the same spending less amounts together at school. Now, Draco wasn’t much of the clingy type but after living in the same house for almost three months only to go back to school and being separated by house rivalry but going to take its toll. 

Draco scoffed to himself, whoever created such things and made him believe them were children, he thought. House rivalry was nonsense. Draco looked over to the clock once again, not much time has passed since he last checked it. He rolled onto his side and decided to at least get some sleep to avoid being an awful mood the in the morning. 

Draco was woken up by the smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen. He looked over to Harry’s bed to see it empty and unmade, no doubt already waiting for the delicious delights Lily was cooking.

Draco was still getting used to seeing a human cook rather than house elves. Lily wasn’t the only person who cooked in the Potter household, he also learned that you, along with Harry were taught some things. James, however, was often kicked out of the kitchen after his many, many, failed attempts on cooking. 

He got up from his bed and quickly made it along with Harry’s. Although your twin brother was fully capable of making his own bed, Draco hated a messy room and often opted into making your brothers bed. Heading downstairs, he saw your luggage packed and ready to go by the front door. Lily made the three you do it the night prior. 

“Ah, he’s up.” He heard you say, you stood on your tippy toes to place a kiss on his cheek. You always complained about your shortness to him, and how it wasn’t fair the Harry got the tall gene. 

“Come sit down, there’s pancakes, eggs, and bacon on the table already. Help yourself.” You said to him. 

Draco nodded and took an empty seat next to James. He began adding foods onto his plate, before he could start eating, James began speaking to him loud enough for him to only hear. 

“Draco as you know, the trial between your parents and us is still happening.” Draco nodded as James spoke. 

The trial was taking longer than expected and although it was unrealistic to think it would end with an agreement immediately, Draco wish it was over. Both parties refused to step down. Not that Draco wanted your parents to give up, he knew they wouldn’t. He just wished his own parents would come to terms that Draco wasn’t returning to them and to drop whatever they doing to claim themselves as the best wizarding parents out there. 

Well, he just wished his father would stop. He knew his mother couldn’t do much, she was just there to be a wife of a pureblood and a mother to heirs. Draco knew she tried to be there for him but the way she was raised proved that the only way she could try to show her love for her son was to buy him things and spoil him with anything and everything he asked for. 

Narcissa still sent him letters once a week, whether it was sending him money, treats, or asking a simple ‘How are you doing?’. 

Draco stared at James and nodded his head allowing James to continue. 

“Word has gotten out and it’ll most likely be in the papers soon which means people will say things to you. Don’t let them get to you and force you to pick a side, in the end it’s you who decides.” 

Draco already had a side picked but he knew Mr. Potter was right. His ‘friends’ will no doubt try to make him change his mind about everything and force him back into being the self-centered prick he was. 

Once everyone finished the very delicious breakfast and got into the muggle car Lily owned, with complaints from you for having to sit in the middle seat, the five of you headed towards the train station. 

“Harry move your bloody elbow!” You yelled out to your brother. “It’s stabbing me in the side!” 

“Maybe it’s you who should move, my elbow is fine where it is!” 

Draco slightly laughed at the interaction, leave it to the two of you to cause some sort of chaos in any given situation. He sat back in his seat and looked out the window, watching all the cars drive by. 

His stomach was getting the same feeling it had during the night. He began chewing on his lip, a habit he had of doing whenever he was nervous. Taking notice of this, you took his hand into yours. 

“Are you okay?” You asked looking at him. Concern was written all over your face as he looked at you. Looking at you is what made him more present and calmer. He loved looking at you, you were always so beautiful to him. 

“Yes, I’m fine.” He responded, giving you a genuine smile. You reciprocated the smile and leaned your head on his shoulder. 

Draco let out a yawn, his lack of sleep getting to him. Perhaps he’d be able to nap on the train. 

Arriving at the station, the three of you said goodbye to your parents. Lily was making sure everyone had everything they needed while James looked ready to cry. Regardless of this being the fifth year of doing this, he was never ready to say goodbye to his children. 

Draco noticed some Slytherins giving him weird looks as he stood with the Potters, a few gasps were heard from others when he hugged James and Lily goodbye. He didn’t care though; it was a bit amusing to see some of his peers sporting confused looks. 

“Alright kids be safe and be good, I don’t want to hear about any more pranks on teachers or students,” Lily said, looking directly at you and Harry. “Includes you now, Draco. These three gremlins can be quite the influence.” 

“Three?!” 

“Yes James, three.” 

“Now that’s not fair, Sirius should be in that list too!” James said. Lily shook her head as if her point was proven. 

Draco followed Harry and you onto the train, he saw a few first years still waving goodbye to their parents through the windows. He saw you poke your head out of one as well, he wanted to laugh at the fact that you looked no different than a first year, but he knew it was best not to as he didn’t want to make you mad. 

“Tell Uncle Moony that I say hi!” He heard James yell. You replied with a ‘will do’ and pulled your head back as the train began to move. Draco could’ve sworn he saw James wipe a few tears from his eyes. 

“Are you going to come sit with us? Harry already went with Hermione and Ron to find an empty compartment.” You asked your boyfriend. 

Draco shook his head, “It’s best if I go sit with the others, Granger and Weasley aren’t much used to having me around unlike Harry and you.” 

“Alright well if anything happens, you can come find us.” 

Draco nodded, allowing you to place a kiss on his lips as a short bye. Watching you skip as you went to find the others, Draco went on his way to find the people he calls his friends. 

The compartment in which they were in wasn’t hard to find, upon entering it Draco placed his luggage above and sat down next to Blaise. 

“Strange,” he heard Blaise say. “We didn’t think you’d be joining us.” 

“And why is that?” Draco asked turning his head to look at Blaise. 

Blaise continued to look down at the book he was reading, “It seemed to us that your alliance has changed.” 

Draco scoffed but before he could speak back, Pansy had already taken the stage. 

“You left us Draco.” She said, forcefully making herself sit in-between Draco and Blaise. She placed her arms around Draco’s neck. 

“Come back to us Draco, we know you’re still in there.” She shook him as she spoke, “We know they brainwashed you now come back.” 

Draco threw Pansy’s arms off of him with a bit of force, making her pout. “No one has brainwashed me.” 

“They clearly did, you don’t even want to be with me anymore!” She screeched. Draco rolled his eyes at her delusional self. 

Blaise closed his book and made Pansy go back to her original seat. He looked directly at Draco as he spoke. 

“We don’t want you here anymore, Draco. You made it clear to us that you no longer want to be in this friend group the minute you hugged that mudblood and her blood traitor husband. Not to mention how friendly you’ve gotten with Y/n Potter.” 

Draco felt his body becoming hot with anger as Blaise targeted the slurs towards your parents. 

“Now leave us and perhaps you’d want to change your house tie as well, seeing as you’ve become Gryffindor scum.” Blaise finished. 

Draco angrily stood up, glaring at Blaise as he grabbed his luggage and stormed out slamming the compartment door with such force. He stood there for a few seconds, taking notice that his hands were shaking as he rubbed his eyes with them.

“This is going to be one long fucking year.”

[drmmyrs]

The Way I Loved You (Poppy x MC) Part 2

I want to make this a slow burn type of fic so I’ll just be giving crumbs for now 😅 I swear tho there’ll be more plot and action in the later parts.

tag list: @whackawriting @samanthadalton @crazzyplays @uselesslesbianfr @baexpoppy @alexroyard @alexlabhont @veenast @cloakanddaggerthings​ (If you wanna be added or removed or just prefer a certain ship just let me know ❤️)

Read Part 1

Word Count: 1700

Warning: none

"I'm sorry, Ms. Min-Sinclair, we only have one more room available for tonight."

Bea watched as the expression on Poppy's face went from horrified to anger. "Check again, please."

"I'm really sorry, but unfortunately, all our other rooms are already booked since we had several guests come in because of the storm," the receptionist said apologetically.

The look Poppy gave the receptionist must have been pretty damn scary, given that his hand was now visibly shaking.

Poppy's voice was beginning to rise. "Listen to me you–"

Bea clasped her hand around Poppy's wrist and dragged her away from the poor guy before she could make a scene. Kind and sweet Poppy was gone entirely. Instead, standing before her was the self-absorbed, shrieking harpy Bea very much knew and hated.

"Calm down, Poppy. The receptionist was just doing his job."

"Calm down?! There's not a chance in hell that I–"

"You know what? If you want to sleep outside in the storm, go ahead because I certainly won't be stopping you," Bea snapped.

Poppy was seething but didn't say anything else.

"I'll be in our room. Feel free to join me once you actually figure out how to act like an adult."

Without waiting for Poppy's response, Bea made her way to the receptionist to finish the transaction, all the while apologizing for Poppy's behavior. Once she got the key, she went straight to the room.

Bea had hoped there were two beds at least, but the way their luck was going, it only made sense that a single queen-sized bed stood at the center of the room. The room itself was average with bland white walls and a window with a city view that was currently shrouded by heavy rain and mist. It certainly wasn't nearly like her room back in Belvoire, but it wasn't like she had any other choice.

After setting down what little things Bea had brought with her–obviously not expecting to spend the night there, and definitely not with Poppy–Bea collapsed on the bed, exhausted. A few minutes later, the door opened, and Poppy walked in, evidently calmer than before. She stood near the doorway, scanning the entire room with a frown. Bea fully expected her to complain about, well, everything, but she just trodded to the side of the bed and glared at her.

"Move."

Bea moved obediently to the other side of the bed, too exhausted to argue. Poppy gracefully slid into bed and took her phone out.

"Stay at your side of the bed, and don't talk to me."

Bea frowned. "I didn't even–"

Poppy scowled at Bea, and Bea made the gesture of zipping her lips. The only sound that followed was the heavy downpour of rain that reverberated across the room. After an hour, Bea got up from bed and started to walk towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Poppy called out, almost sounding... worried.

Bea raised her eyebrow. "I'll come back if that's what you're worried about."

Poppy rolled her eyes, but Bea could see a slight flush on her cheeks. "As if. Get lost in the storm for all I care."

Bea laughed. "I'm just gonna check out the boutique I saw near the lobby. Don't really wanna sleep in these clothes." Bea hesitated. "Do you... want to come with?"

Without answering, Poppy rose from the bed and strode out of the room. Bea followed soon after, and for someone so short, Poppy sure walked incredibly fast that Bea had a hard time keeping up with her.

"Do you even know where it is?" Bea asked.

Probably realizing she didn't, Poppy slowed down until they were walking alongside each other. When they reached the boutique, Poppy immediately frowned in disgust at the clothing selection.

"Ugh, what even is this?" Poppy remarked, looking at a shirt with an unflattering shade of pink.

"Are you saying you can't pull that off?" Bea challenged.

"No, I'm saying that I have standards. Obviously, something you know nothing about." Poppy made her way through the selection, sneering all the while. "I'm not wearing these."

Bea rolled her eyes. "Get off your high horse. If you want to sleep in your sweaty clothes, at least do me a favor and not, like, sleep next to me."

Poppy let out a scornful laugh. "Oh sweety, I'll still smell better than whatever pigsty your perfume came from. But maybe... I'll just wear nothing then."

Despite herself, an image of Poppy naked sprung to Bea's head, sending heat all over her body. She slightly faced away from Poppy.

Noticing Bea's sudden silence, Poppy curiously looked at her. "My, my, Farmsville, don't tell me you're already imagining me naked," Poppy said with a smirk.

Mustering her most dismissive tone, Bea said, "Please, you're not even that hot." A blatant lie, of course. Poppy is a lot of things, and 'hot' is definitely one of those. Thankfully, Poppy moved on after seeing a dress that, Bea agreed, 'should be burned.'

After a painstakingly long search, Poppy was finally able to find something 'tolerable.' They made their purchases and went back to their room. When they arrived, Poppy was the first to get in the shower, and when she came out, she was wearing a tight-fitting tank top and bike shorts that hugged and accentuated all her curves. The room suddenly got so much hotter as Bea tried her absolute best not to stare at her, and even so, she knew it was a losing battle which is why she jumped to the shower the first chance she got. After showering, Bea realized that in her hurry, she forgot to take her clothes with her. She wrapped a towel and walked out to the bedroom to get her clothes. When her back was turned to Poppy, Bea glanced at a mirror nearby and was surprised to see Poppy staring at her with her mouth parted slightly. But when she casually turned around, Poppy had already averted her gaze.

Later that night, the storm got worse as thunders started to rumble outside. At first, Bea thought it was just a trick of the light, but after a few more claps of thunder, she could see Poppy flinch at every roar with her eyes clenched shut.

Is Poppy... actually scared of thunderstorms?  

As if to answer her question, Poppy started to heave heavily, with traces of sweat forming on her forehead. And as much as Bea despised Poppy–or at least that's what she kept telling herself–she actually felt sorry for her. And against her better judgment, Bea reluctantly placed her hand over Poppy's and gave it a soft squeeze. Poppy tensed for a moment at the gesture before she relaxed and gripped Bea's hand tighter. In response, Bea started tracing soothing circles on the back of her hand, and they fell asleep through the thunderstorm, hand-in-hand.

When Bea woke up, most of the storm had already passed, with light to moderate rain falling intermittently. She scanned the room and saw Poppy eating at the desk.

"Your food's getting cold," Poppy said without looking at her.

"You... got me food?"

"I figured since we didn't have dinner yesterday." Poppy turned to face Bea. "Why do you sound so surprised."

Bea furrowed her brows. "Because that's actually nice. And as far as I'm concerned, you're not."

"Well, I don't particularly care about you. And trust me, no one will be happier than me with you gone. But, unfortunately, I do have to keep you alive at least until after the party. Grades and all."

Bea got up and went to the desk to get her food. Poppy got her an English-style breakfast while she was eating... a teensy salad.

Poppy saw Bea looking at her food. "Did you also want a salad?"

"Uh, no. It just doesn't look... filling."

"It's not. But it's not like I have a choice. Their vegetarian selection is awful."

And just when Bea thought Poppy couldn't surprise her anymore.

"Wait, you're... vegetarian?" Bea asked in undisguised surprise.

"Yes." Poppy narrowed her eyes at Bea. "You know, you have to stop assuming you know everything about me. In fact, you know nothing about me."

"Yeah, I'm starting to get that."

Bea went back to bed and started to eat her food, her mind going back to the foster home, how Poppy's entire personality changed around the people there. Before, Bea was so convinced that she had Poppy pegged, just a basic bitch who thought too highly of herself with no regard for others at all. But Poppy was right; Bea barely knew her... and she wanted to know more.

"Why?" Bea turned to face Poppy. "Why are you a vegetarian, I mean. If you don't mind me asking."

Poppy made an annoyed expression. "I do mind, actually."

A grin spread on Bea's face. "Oh my god, you totally care about the animals."

When Poppy didn't respond, Bea continued. "First kids and now animals? My, my, Poppy, what will people say if they knew that their favorite she-devil is actually a big softie."

Poppy stopped eating and turned to give Bea a menacing glare. "If you tell anyone about this, you're dead."

After they finished eating, Bea and Poppy started planning for the party the next day. So naturally, more than a few shouts, insults, and curses were thrown around until they finally, finally, agreed on all the details. Since Poppy was the one with all the connections, she had to call for all the services needed. And when her trusty photographer told her he wasn't available, Poppy cursed in frustration.

"The party, it's not just about your GPA, is it. This is really important to you."

Poppy didn't answer and instead went back to make a few more phone calls.

When everything was settled, the storm had fully passed, and it was already safe to drive home. So imagine Bea's surprise when Poppy said that they were staying there for another night.

"I thought you hated this place."

"I do. But I'm not going to drive an hour home just to go back early tomorrow. Besides, we'll get things done much faster if we stay here."

Bea smiled. "Would you like some champagne?"

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

✨ Seven days of:

DAY #1.

✨ REQUEST: Congrats again on the 1000k, a testament to your awesome writing. Could I request bishop on a first date with a single Mother please ❤️

✨ MADE BY: @narfea

WORDS: about 1.5k

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted ❤

❚❙ OBISPO ‘BISHOP’ LOSA MASTERLIST.

❚❙ MASTERLIST.

❚❙ JOIN MY TAG LIST.

It's the first time in years that you have a date, and you would be lying if you say that you aren't nervous, turning around in front of the mirror to check again how good that tight black dress fits your body. At first you were reticent to the idea, but Bishop has been insisting since he met you two months ago. When you threw over him a coffee, after being pushed by a rude customer in the cafeteria you work at.

Ready, sweetly perfumed and grabbing your bag and your jacket, you step out to the living room. Your five years old son is eating pizza on the sofa, while watching a cartoon movie on TV. You're worried of leaving him there, even if Grace is going to take care of him. She knows exactly where to find you in case something happened.

“Matt”. You call him, kneeling close to him. “Behave as the good little man you are, okay?”

“Yeah, mom. Have fun”. Wrapping your neck with his tiny arms, he leaves a short kiss in your lips.

“Te amo, mi chiquito”. You mumble, poking the tip of his nose.

Walking out of your house, by holding Bishop's arm, you can't help but feel excited for having some time with him with a bar between both and an awful boss with his eyes on you the whole shift. The man is happy too, showing it to you through the grin constantly installed on his face, guiding you to the black car stationed in front of your sidewalk. The moment he opens you the door, you know that he's pretty different from what you had heard about El Presidente of Mayans.

“Thank you”. You mumble for a second, taking a seat on the copilot place.

Talking about your day and some funny situation you have been through today, Bishop drives to the surrounds of Santo Padre, where a new mexican restaurant has opened a few weeks ago, close to the border.

It's such a nice place decorated with lights of all colors and typical stuff from Mexico, like poncho, big sparrow hats, katrinas and a lot of bottles of Don Julio. It has a huge and wide terrace, a crowded one with people from all around the both sides of the border, enjoying their dinner while talking. A bartender brings you to the booked table by Bishop on the last day, helping you to sit like a gentleman before taking a place in front of you.

“You like the site?”

“Yeah! It's really… beautiful. And it's the first time in, I don't know, like years that I don't have some time for me”. You confess them, while he intertwines his fingers with yours over the table. “Thank you. You know… for the date”.

“You don't have to. Sounds like I'm not going to have fun”.

His laugh infects you, shaking your head slightly before being interrupted by the same bartender, who has led you to your table minutes ago.

It's amazing how easy it is to open yourself to him, just like Bishop does. Since you sat there, you haven't stopped talking about everything. Work, hobbies, life, concerns about existence… You're not only discovering things about him, nice ones you must say, but about you too. Matt's father never let you talk this much, usually getting bored of whatever you like to speak about, or simply telling you not now, or I don't want to hear your shit. You have always felt off with him, until one day you decided to end that life of silence, of feeling small by his side, of living inhibited.

Now, it seems like you have a new opportunity with another man. A man who is respectful, who cares about you, about your son. A man who really looks like he wants to be with you. And even if you tried hard to not make illusions about it, you couldn't help it. You couldn't help but imagine how it would be to live under the same roof. How would be seeing Matt growing up with someone like Bishop.

But what feels like the perfect night is suspended by an unexpected call from Grace.

“Don't be scared, okay?”

You are already scared.

“Matt has fallen from the stairs. He's okay. He just has a bump, but we're in the hospital”.

Everything after that last word happens too fast. Bishop pays the bill and takes you to the car parked outside, driving quickly to the center town. Running through the hallways and dodging other people there, you find the waiting area.

Your son is sitting on Grace's lap, licking a lollipop and with his eyes reddened after crying. Throwing the sweet to the floor, he jumps to it to run towards you. Raising him up between your arms, you hold your kid against your chest as tight as you can.

“You okay, mijo?”

The man places a hand on the back of Matt's head, gently caressing it. He nods ashamed, resting his cheek against your chest.

“Does it hurt, baby?”

Your son shakes his head this time, wrapping your neck with his arms covered by his pajamas. You can see Bishop taking off his jacket to put it over him, showing you a sincere smile, before going to talk with Grace.

“I'm sorry, mama”.

“It's okay, baby, don't worry”. You sigh, leaving a soft kiss on his temple.

You feel bad for the man, having failed to enjoy the night you promised him. Having to act like your chofer, to bring you back home. And you feel bad for the illusions you have made, breaking into pieces inside you. You don't blame Matt, or Grace. You couldn't and it wouldn't be fair. You blame yourself, being aware that you were the one who should be taking care of your son. Because, yes, that could happen to you two, but you wouldn't drag anyone else to it.

After tucking Matt in bed and waiting for him to be asleep, you leave his door half-closed, coming back downstairs to the living room. Bishop is having a look at your photographs together, around the years, around California and that time you went to Disney.

“He is finally sleeping”. You say, calling his attention.

“He feels good?”

Pressing your lips, you shrug your shoulders.

“Listen… I'm so sorry about what happened. It's okay if you… don't wanna call me again, I would tot—”.

“And miss another adventure in the hospital?” He chuckles interrupting you, tilting his neck to a side. “This has been by far the best date I have ever had”.

You know he's just trying to add some humor to the night and you also know he's just trying to make you feel better, but that doesn't change the fact that you're aware he's not going to call you again, or to propose to you a second date.

“I have to leave, got to wake up early tomorrow”.

“Okay”.

With a hand on the back of your neck and another holding yours, he places his lips on your left cheek. A kiss that feels like a goodbye. Even if he shows you a last smile, you can't help but feel sad seeing him leaving your house.

Sitting on your sofa and pressing a cushion against your face, you let the tears filling your eyes wet the fabric. You don't want to wake up Matt, you don't want to make him feel bad for something that wasn't his fault.

Knocking on his door and opening it to find him reading a comic on his bed, you come in to caress his hair.

“Lunch is ready, baby”.

Tossing it over the mattress, he jumps off from it, to follow you to the kitchen. The bump is less swollen and he hasn't complained about it yet. Putting his plate full of macaroni with tomato and cheese in front of his face, you're about to sit too when the doorbell rings. Weirded out, you go to the entrance to attend the call by opening it.

Bishop turns around, taking off the sunglasses from his eyes, with a gentle smile drawn on his lips. You're surprised. And he's confused because of that.

“Can I come in?”

“Ye—Yeah”. You answer, taking some steps back to give him more space.

“How's him?”

“Feeling better. We just… started to eat lunch. Do you… wanna stay?”

You don't understand why he has come, but you're feeling again the tickles in your belly when he nods closing the door.

“Without counting yesterday, I'm not sure when it was the last time I ate something decent”.

Leaning towards you, he kisses your cheek again like last night. But this time, it feels different. It feels like you really have a second choice. And you can't help but hug him, with your arms around his middle back. Bishop chuckles embracing you without doubting, kissing your forehead before you hide your face under his chin.

“I was being serious last night, querida. I wouldn't let someone like you escape from me”.

[supersupernaturalimagines]

Christmas Delights

Pairing - Jack Kline x Reader

Summary - The holidays are approaching, and knowing that Jack hasn’t ever really seen just how excited people get for the holidays, you decide to take him on a special supply run. 

Word Count - 1,767

Warnings - None! Except it’s November 1st, and I’m already posting a Christmas story. 

“Now what’s the rule?” 

You let out an annoyed sigh as Dean held the keys to the Impala in his grip, waiting for your response before he gave them to you. “Don’t do any damage to Baby whatsoever or there will be hell to pay.” You answered. 

“Continue . . .” Dean said, gesturing for you to do so. 

“Don’t mess with any of the music or radio presets.” You added, crossing your arms over your chest as Dean still held the keys out of your reach. 

“And . . .” He said. 

“Oh my god, are you serious? Jack and I are not going to do anything -”

“I’m ready!” Jack interrupted you, joining the two of you in the kitchen, his bright smile easing up your mood instantly. It was so easy to make him excited. Even if all you were doing was going on a supply run, he was eager to go. “Are you ready to go?” He asked you, moving to stand at your side. 

You glanced over at Dean who was still looking at you, this time with a little smirk on his lips. “I promise all right!” You said, snatching the keys from him, and grabbing a hold of Jack’s hand. “Come on, let’s go.” 

Jack looked confused at Dean’s amused look and your words, but let you lead him out the kitchen and into the Impala. As soon as the two of you were alone, you felt your annoyance vanish as Jack began to tell you all about the latest book he had been reading. You had taken it upon yourself to catch Jack up on popular culture, and he was taking to it well. So well in fact that there had been times when the two of you had stayed up talking late into the night about his favorite things. You couldn’t count the amount of times you had woken up on the couch with your favorite blanket thrown across your body after you had fallen asleep talking to him. 

There was no denying that the two of you were close anymore, and because of that, you liked to team up, whether it was hunting or going shopping. So when it was your turn to go into town and get supplies, you asked him to come with you. He agreed at once. He loved to explore the towns that you were near and human behavior whenever he got the chance, so you knew that he would enjoy this trip in particular. “Wow . . .” He said when you pulled to a stop, staring out the window. 

The whole street was covered in flashing lights and decorations ranging from wreaths to fake snow around some of the lamp posts. All of that seemed to pale in comparison to the large tree that stood in the center of the square. That wasn’t what was holding your attention though. 

Jack’s eyes were wide in wonderment as he gazed around, attempting to take everything in from the car window. The smile that lit up his face was brighter than any of the lights flashing outside. It made a smile form on your own face, his excitement contagious. “What is all this?” Jack asked you, tearing his gaze away from the window to look at you instead. 

“Remember how I told you that the holidays were coming up?” You asked him, then nudged his shoulder. “Humans tend to go all out for that sort of thing. Wanna take a closer look?” You asked, gesturing outside. 

You didn’t need to ask him twice. Jack almost leaped out of his seat, and you struggled to catch up, trying not to giggle at how excited he was. As soon as you met each other at the front of the car, he took your hand in his own. “Thank you for bringing me here.” 

“You’re welcome.” You replied, a genuine smile on your face now as you looked at him. ���Now let’s go check it out before Dean thinks we’ve been gone for too long.” You said, tugging him forward and towards the Town Square. 

While the holidays hadn’t been your thing in a few years, it was a whole different thing experiencing them with Jack who had never seen something like this. Instead of being filled with memories that upset you, it was as if you were seeing everything from a whole new perspective, just like Jack was. He asked question upon question for you to answer, and you loved how happy he seemed to be. 

Happiness was a rare commodity for hunters after all. 

“Did you celebrate the holidays when . . .” He trailed off, and you knew exactly what he meant. 

You stirred your hot chocolate with your tiny spoon, poking at your marshmallows while you contemplated your response. “We did . . . what I remember was nice. A lot of family time. Relatives you saw once or twice a year all sitting around a table and catching up . . . looking at the Black Friday ads . . . all the old traditions you know? Along with some of our own.” You added. 

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Your own?” 

“Like . . . my mom did this thing that I thought was weird as a kid. I thought that everyone put a star on top of the Christmas tree.” You gestured toward the large tree at the end of the street, sparkling bright in the night with its large star on top. “It was what I always saw on TV, and that seemed to be what friends always had talked about. My mother on the other hand, insisted on a ribbon. A very large ribbon that took up way too much space and distracted from the tree all together. Of course now I realize it was more common than I thought, but still. It was our own.” 

When you glanced back up at him, you noticed that he was smiling at you this time, in a way that made your heart do all sorts of funny flips and flops. 

“What?” You asked, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. 

“I like when you talk about your family, and it makes you happy. You aren’t usually when you’re talking about them.” He answered, his words honest, and unaware of the brief stab of pain they caused. 

It was hard to remember the good things after having to watch them die so brutally, so when you talked about your family, he was right, you weren’t happy a lot of the time. Now that he had mentioned it, you didn’t want it to happen again. You didn’t want a guilty emotion to ruin such a fun night for Jack. “You want to go for one more walk around before we leave? Dean’s going to think we’re up to something if we stay out too much longer.” You asked, changing the subject. 

You couldn’t miss the concern that flashed on Jack’s face at your clear avoidance at the subject, but you were relieved when he didn’t pry, picking up your now empty cup and putting it in the trash can behind him as he took your hand once more. “I’d love to.” 

As the two of you walked around the tree once more, the memory of your earlier conversation faded to the back of your mind, Jack’s warm body next to yours as you nestled your head against his shoulder, happy and content again. 

____________________

Over the next few weeks, the days began to melt together as they often did when your little ragtag family were working on cases. It seemed that you were finally getting a break though after you woke up at a reasonable time without Dean or Sam banging on your door to get packed. Taking your time, and enjoying the deep sleep you had just woken up from, it took you a few moments to notice the present on your bedside table. 

As soon as you did, you sat up so fast you almost had a head rush, tears flooding to your eyes. 

There, taking up almost your whole nightstand, was a large bow. It was misshapen in some places, and covered with cartoon drawings of penguins, Santa Claus, elves and reindeer, but there was no mistaking what it was. 

Or who had made it for you. 

You grabbed the bow and ran out of your room, hurrying past Sam who was reading, Castiel who was watching television, and almost colliding into Dean who was carrying a large plate of pancakes. “Hey! Watch it!” He called after you, his mouth full of food. 

Ignoring him, you didn’t stop until you found yourself in front of the place you knew that Jack liked to frequent and opened the door, biting your lip to control your tears when you saw what waited for you. 

“Surprise!” Jack yelled, excited. “Merry Christmas!” 

He had decorated the whole room with different colors of string lights, some large and oddly shaped and some small with flashing lights. There were also various plants, and ribbons hanging around in red and white, but the main feature of the room was the tree. It was rather small for a Christmas tree and leaned sideways somewhat, but you didn’t care. It was perfect. 

And waiting right at the top was a large space set aside for what you were sure was the bow in your hand. 

You couldn’t control yourself. You ran to him, throwing your arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his lips. Almost as soon as you had done it, you realized your mistake and pulled away as your cheeks flooded with heat. “Jack, I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking I’m just . . .” You gestured around the room. “This is so sweet of -”

This time you were the one surprised with a kiss. Jack tugged you back into his arms and was kissing you a lot more thoroughly than you had ever expected him too. Not that you were complaining. His lips were soft and smooth as they moved with yours and it felt like butterflies had erupted all in your stomach as his hands caressed your back in such a gentle touch. You couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh and try to move closer, feeling happier than you had in ages wrapped up in his arms with his lips pressed against your own. 

The kiss had to end at some point though, and the two of you were breathless by the time that it did. There were matching smiles on your face as you looked at each other, and then Jack spoke up. “So, do you like it?” 

Your smile widened as you answered him with another kiss.

[sl-walker]

All right, since I’m in the middle of a flare and have to work manual labor for the next four days despite it, I figured I would make myself -- and hopefully other people -- laugh by talking about one of my favorite OG Captain Marvel stories. Namely, from Whiz #50, with a cover date of January, 1944, meaning it was probably produced sometime in late 1943.

I want to share it because why not, this is some absurdly charming stuff.

I’ll get more into why it’s one of my favorites as we go, in the form of running commentary. So, full story (with said commentary) under the cut. If you wanna just read the story without my commentary, stick to the pictures. XD

First, let me say that the cover and splash page definitely live up to the story, though the cover’s a bit more sensationalized. But the premise is pretty damn simple: Our intrepid hero and his newsboy alter ego are on vacation. Cap decides to go swimming. It goes hilariously wrong and thus ensues a bit of a madcap adventure, no puns intended.

Second, the fact that Cap and Billy are depicted as essentially different entities makes what Billy does next the ultimate trolling:

Gee, airing out the stolen laundry on the radio? Really? I’ll leave it up to you, gentle reader, whether Billy actually was trolling his own alter-ego for ratings or whether he was just innocently sharing the story while his other-self winced quietly in whatever ether-space he exists in when not front-and-center.

Either way, I love it.

Continuing on...

I get a kick out of the fact that Billy’s monologue is that he’s no dare-devil. One, because that’s so obviously not true in any way -- (that kid is awesomely, sometimes recklessly brave on the regular even without Cap) -- but two, because the bridge is actually named Dare-Devil Bridge. We aren’t given any reason why this dangerous potential death-trap is there, hanging without so much as a gate or a warning sign or anything, because we don’t need one. It’s there specifically for what happens next.

Which, of course, is Billy calling in Captain Marvel, who does some light complaining about the situation Billy left him in. There’s no bite to it, which I find adorable -- Cap actually does get frustrated once or twice in other issues with Billy calling on him for mundane stuff, though he’s never mean about it -- but there is a bit of the sense of being put-upon there that’s just-- I dunno, cute. It’s something I miss a lot in the various post-crisis takes on the character: That duality, that difference in personality, and the way each of them responds to different situations. Often, they’re on the same page, but notably, sometimes, they aren’t.

Someday, I promise, I need to sit down and write how I think that works between those two without being a truly frightening mental illness manifested, what with them being the same person but not the same person. Because I have so many ideas, and I’ve only had since the early-2000s to percolate them. LOL! But until then, just enjoy this.

Here is another reason why I love the Golden Age Captain Marvel books and why I love this specific story: This is an absolutely normal, mundane thing to do. It’s the human thing to do. These aren’t the actions of some super-serious superdude. These are the actions of a pretty shockingly normal guy doing something mundane. And a whole story is built around that normalcy.

It’s cute. It’s funny. It’s the reader already knowing that he’s getting himself into a situation that he absolutely could have avoided, but also completely understanding how it happened anyway. It’s pretty brilliant writing: I say this as a pretty damned good writer myself.

So much of the reason why, I think, Cap was so endearing as a hero is that humanity. He’s got pretty much god-tier power in the Golden Age, once his powerset is established. He’s utterly invulnerable to all physical harm while powered up. But-- he’s human. He knows he’s human. He acts like it, and decides, “You know what? I’m going skinny-dipping.”

He and Billy are both characters it’s so easy to empathize with.

Also, a reminder that the art under Chief Artist C.C. Beck is really, really good. (He had a whole stable of artists to help produce this stuff!) Ignoring registration issues on the printing press, the actual line art is amazingly good; proportion and perspective and consistency.

But anyway--Cap does get to enjoy his swim. But, then, oh no.

I love the idea of a world where the prime hero -- and he definitely is in that world -- can take off his suit and go swimming, and where someone else is bold enough to steal the damn suit off of him. The first time I read this, I started laughing here. Not at him, but at the situation he’s found himself in. At the idea that some random passer-by saw Captain Marvel’s costume and went yoink!

Another thing I love about this particular story is how much Cap and Billy have to work together, just by necessity. Like-- it’s just really good. But anyway, thank everything Billy Batson is on the ball, coming to the rescue.

Sheer bad luck via the weather keeps this story rolling along in hilarious misdirections. Realistically, that uniform probably wouldn’t be all buttoned together (we see Cap take off pieces of it aside the pants in other issues, including socks!), but who cares? The point of the story is that giant bear rug on the floor’s gonna get put to use.

Man, when have you ever seen Superman creeping naked through some stranger’s house wearing nothing but a random polar bear because he went skinny dipping? No wonder these comics sold so well. This next panel is when I start wheezing, though, and pretty much keep wheezing.

“A lady, too! I’ve got to get away from here!”

I’m dying at this point. That’s such a characteristic response, and yet, I think that’s why it’s funny.

Anyway, because this is an excellent story (I mean this without an ounce of irony, too), our dynamic duo stumbles across a plot in play to rob the hotel they’re staying at.

Here’s a big part of why this is such a good tale: Everything fits. Even when it isn’t explained, like Dare-Devil Bridge, it still fits. Why is the tree down? Because there was just a thunder storm, the same one that blew Cap’s suit into the room with the gangsters.

I don’t know if this is Otto Binder’s story, but I wouldn’t be surprised in the least. It’s a complete story told in relatively few pages that accomplishes everything it’s meant to.

Anyway, using foliage as cover, Cap gets to be heroic----then Billy gets to get back to the business of trying to stop the robbery of the hotel and get his heroic alter-ego dressed again.  Which leads to a rather adorable and funny scene of Billy not only trying to describe what Captain Marvel wears, but what size it would need to be tailored in.

(Cap is supposedly a 44 for a suit coat, we find in some earlier appearance, which would refer to his chest size.  So, an XL for shirts and suit-coats.  He’s a big guy, but he’s actually not a hulking huge guy.  But more on that later.)

I love the fact Billy tries to like-- use himself as a model.  Maybe in another ten years, kiddo.  Billy’s actually pretty buff for like a 12-14 year old, he’s not a scrawny kid at this point, but yeah, no.  LOL!

Another thing I also really, really love about this style, though, is that they draw Captain Marvel as being strong, as having a powerful build-- but not as a dehydrated body-builder with deep cuts. He’s got human proportions, regardless of his strength; he’s got a human build, not a superhuman one.

C.C. Beck had a lot of things to say about superheroes who were just muscles on top of muscles, all clearly defined, and he didn’t like it.  As someone who first got into comics in the early 90s with Jim Lee’s X-Men--

I do get Beck’s point.  I not only get it, but I really highly approve of it.  He maintained to the end that he drew (and oversaw) the Marvel family to look like high school and college athletes, and I can see that.  I think the one person who’s gotten it right in the modern era is Evan “Doc” Shaner, who did Convergence: Shazam!  He not only nailed that strong-but-not-hulking build for Cap, but also how young he looked.  College-age, in fact.

But anyway, enough digression into art and why I like this better than most modern takes on the character.  Also, that’s just a cute set of panels.

I also like that there wasn’t an easy fix there.  Cap’s still in his not-birthday suit, and Billy’s still stuck running around trying to solve the issues at hand.  Next comes some other really good panels:

-snorts-  He’s locked in.  Yeah, that’ll hold him.

Anyway, what I really liked here was again that tandem working; Billy can’t punch through a wall, but Cap can.  Cap can’t crawl out while he’s au natural -- well, he could, but he’d probably rather die first -- but Billy’s got no such issue.  It’s just fun when you get to see them doing something like that.  You have to really think for a minute about the trust each of them must have in their alter-ego.

ANYWAY, we get the rare treat then--

--of Captain Marvel not only yoinking a dude into a dark room, but then stealing his clothes.  Except, not his underwear.  Because that’s nasty.  LOL!

I love that in this series, you do actually get to see him wear other stuff.  Go incognito.  Get his red suit messed up enough to take it to a dry cleaner’s, wherein he ends up dressed like a musketeer after.  Jerry Ordway’s series is, I think, the only other time we see Cap not wearing his famous suit, but it happened enough in the Golden Age that it wasn’t a shock.

Like, I hate to be the one to say this, but I do think DC drops the ball often on just how much you can do with Captain Marvel (or Shazam, depending on timeline, but that’s the wizard’s name to me so mostly I’ll stick with the original name) if you unbend enough to.  It’s not just the costume change, or the duality of him and Billy being the same but not, but also his inherent, essential humanity.

But I am digressing again, sorry. XD  I just feel strongly enough about these versions of these characters to spend hours writing this.

Anyway, only a single panel later:

And that’s that!  Billy Batson has just outed his own alter-ego’s most embarrassing moment to whomever’s listening to WHIZ radio -- thank everything podcasts and the internet weren’t available then, ha! -- and we get to see a recounting of a very fun story.

Like I said earlier, I love this one for its essential humanity.  The hero got himself into this mess, he and Billy got him out of this mess, and stopping the criminals was actually just kind of a lucky stroke thrown in there.  But even though Cap got himself into this, the story never treats him like he’s stupid.  It never treats him like he’s some kind of idiot.  You’re laughing, but-- not in a mean way.

I love how human it is.  How complete it is.  How genuinely funny it is.  It’s a thousand times more funny when you genuinely love and respect Captain Marvel and Billy Batson, too.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this dissertation on a skinny-dipping hero.  LOL!  I enjoyed sharing it with you.

[bular]

Welcome to Live Commentary

I had no one to talk to while watching the movie and I hate being alone with my thoughts so I wrote everything down in my notes app. It's not coherent! Enjoy!

Aw yeah 1.5 seconds of Bular that is all I needed! Might as well stop now I've seen my boy I'm satisfied.

Why is there a nearly 4 minute recap as if I haven't watched the show at least 50 times. I should be the one giving the recap.

The beginning felt a bit forced to me but maybe that's just me? Like they just tried to squeeze too many things into a small timeframe without any buildup, it just didn't really work. Congrats on the engagement! This is my OTP so I'm very happy! But it came out of nowhere.

Nari in Douxies body is so wrong and I love it and hate it at the same time (positive)

Eli is BIG. I knew he was gonna be tall but I was not prepared for that chiseled face. Or the fact that he stepped off the ship without glasses? I wear glasses and I would not choose to step off a spaceship blind.

OkAY who had mpreg on their bingo card?

AAARRRGGHH actually said a full sentence 🥺 there is no heterosexual explanation for this scene and I'm here for it

Arcadia being the center of the universe really does make a lot of sense. I hate how much sense it makes. Despise it.

Strickler in a Christmas sweater is something i didn't know I needed. Jim's jacket too but that's just adorable, Jim's adorable. Oh sweet baby you're about to get fucked over so bad.

Love seeing Barbara actively participating in battle too. Good for her! Power family!!

Where are the kids tho? Is NotEnrique babysitting? Either that or they hired the girl from the Incredibles movie.

Nomura is so talented I love seeing her fighting on the good side. I can't explain it but I love digitigrade legs they're just so pretty?? Aesthetically pleasing??? Fuck yeah, legg! I could watch Nomura run around and be badass all day.

WAIT NO OH SHIT HOW DARE YOU FUCK

STRICKLER DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE NOT YOU TOO THAT'S TOO FUCKING RUDE DON'T DO THIS TO ME

THERE'S NO WAY HE'S DEAD RIGHT WE SAW NO BODY

Barbara does not deserve this I refuse to accept it. He's fine he'll be back they wouldn't kill two Changelings at once. Also Nomura is with Draal now I take no criticism.

So my favorite characters were Bular, Draal, Gunmar and Angor. And before this movie I always half-joked that everyone I love dies, how I still like Strickler and Nomura but apart from them all of my faves were killed in the very order of favoritism. AND NOW LOOK AT THIS. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I LOVE A CHARACTER. MY LOVE IS TOXIC.

OKAY I LOVE GUN RO- WAIT NO I DON'T LOVE HIM FUCK ABORT ABORT

It's great tho omg

I didn't realize it was Gun Robot when I saw it in the trailer this is amazing

Okay but imagine you're chilling in your trollmarket minding your own business when some misfit group of strangers waltzes in, steals your favorite shiny and celebrates your death before running off

"I AM GUN ROBOT" IS THE HORN LMAOOO

Nana better show up at some point to reunite with her boytoy, I'll cancel this entire franchise otherwise

Something bad is going to happen to Toby isn't it. He's getting too much screentime

Jim's hand got DEEP FRIED

ARCHIE NO

We can play Scrabble okay if they don't free them (which they must) I want an after credits scene of them playing scrabble

Douxie and Nari's bond 🥺🥺🥺

Nari pls just say what you fuckin mean the world is ending

Oh god is she going to remember killing Nomura oh nooo

Claire don't make the portal you will die again. Your hair gon be white all over

EVERYONE AVOIDING THE SCHOOL JUST RIGHT THERE LMAO RIP

I love how Darci is just with the school bus. Civilian girlfriend. But also love how the world is ending and Coach is like "fuck that I'm gonna teach these kids"

Does he know his son is pregnant

"Going back to the city where it's safe" buddy have you been to that city

Whatever happens, Nari has the coolest looking titan. Giant four legged gremlin. I'd adopt him.

WAIT SHE CAN FEEL THE PAIN?

Me: oh i love that titan

The titan 5 seconds later:

Did Nari just fucking die what the FUCK

Oh of COURSE the pages are stuck together RIGHT THERE

Seriously tho how do you not notice an entire nougat nummy in a book

Wait so Arcadia has another heartstone? Or OH SO IT'S ALIVE. OKAY GREAT. GUNMAR COULDN'T EVEN DO THAT RIGHT HUH

Love how the Heartstone has been dormant/dead for months and apparently heard Blinky say it's alive and decided to wake up RIGHT THEN

Finally they're evacuating the city. This is like, the third apocalypse there. About time.

Okay so you can't pull Excalibur from the rock, but you CAN carve out the stone. Couldn't you just carve it off the sword as close as possible and like. Use that? Just swing the whole damn rock around?

God i can NOT get over Steve's pants. I mean I read a spoiler he was gonna be pregnant but I thought it was a prank or shitpost. I did not see this coming and I am never going to be over it. I love how he and Aja just roll with it and nobody else even cares. They've seen weirder stuff. So he's pregnant now. Whatever.

Jim's hand is bandaged and his ribs still hurt. I love that they're actually consistent with his injuries. I mean sucks for him but hell yeah for hero that doesn't always win!

Okayyy here comes the heartstone. Why not!

IS HE IN LABOR

So if you kiss an Akiridion 7 times you will have 3-5 babies in a few hours. How are they not overpopulated?? Also Aja couldn't have WARNED STEVE BEFOREHAND?

Eli is so supportive omfg

So uh where are the babies gonna come out of? I'm not into mpreg how does this usually work

OH STEVE THANKS FOR ASKING MY QUESTION

Oh good thing he happens to have 8 friends still alive. Otherwise this would've never worked. Nomura had to die otherwise there would've been 10 of them.

Why is everyone bowing to Jim? Did they rehearse this?

Stuart if you hadn't taken a bathroom break you would've thrown off the math and doomed the world. That was a poop of fate my man

Ahhh the signature quote. Where did Douxie and the Akiridions learn it? Did they rehearse this too? It's really cliché but I do like it tbh

If Strickler were dead we'd see more Barbara right?

WOOO BLINKY DRIVING

Ah Jim just used she/her for Bellroc! Finally we're learning some pronouns. I've been wondering this whole time.

MY VIRGIN EYES. WHAT IS GOING O N

How are they not dying with all this lava?

She really just yeeted Varvatos

Did Claire just tell AAARRRGGHH to jump off the titan and he did it without question

I want to say I like Stuart and want him to have more screentime, but I won't say it because I don't want him to die

Jim's poor ribs

Toby can drive yoooo

Tobyyy you're scaring meeeee

So did they really need the different stone or was the amulet just waiting for Jim to choose death over giving up

I saw the armor before but it looks VERY COOL

Also I didn't mention this before but I love that they cut Merlin's name from the incantation. Good for them.

Toby you lost your helmet noooo

For real tho I'm terrified for Toby rn. I saw a comment somewhere earlier that just said "Toby no" with no context and I am AFRAID

So do Bellroc's eyes work after all? I thought she was blinded back in Wizards in the past.

DID SHE JUST FUCKING STAB MY BOY

TOBY YOU SHOULD NOT BE THERE GET OUT THE TRUCK

Bellroc maybe screaming "i'm powerless" in front of your enemy isn't the best idea

She sploosh

DID JIM SURVIVE THAT FALL AND ALSO IS THE TACO TRUCK OKAY

How is he lifting Claire like that buddy you have bruised ribs and just got stabbed

ELI HI CAN WE SEE THE KIDS

SEVEN KIDS! AND ELI JR I LOVE IT

This show really loves to give people more than the recommended amount of babies with no warning huh

She immediately knows which one is Eli Jr 🥺 okay listen I'm not the biggest fan of comic relief sideplot surprise babies, but I have to admit they're cute. Cute couple. Throuple. Eli is in on this. He even has a Junior.

I TOLD YOU WHERE'S THE DAMN TACO TRUCK NANA WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU AND NEITHER WILL I

Oh yea he better fuckin be alive I will commit murder

HE BETTER FUCKIN BE ALIVE BITCH

FUCK YOU

THAT'S A WHOLE ASS CHILD HE ISN'T ALLOWED TO DIE IT'S ILLEGAL

JIM IS GONNA LOOK DOWN AT THE GREEN GLOWING BITCH AAARRRGGHH CONVENIENTLY THREW THERE AND SEE HIM ALIVE OR SOMETHING

YEAH USE THE SWORD TO UNDEAD HIM! THAT'S HOW YOU USE SWORDS!

Unbecoming Part 2

So is Jim just gonna Groundhog Day it until everyone is fine? There's only 13 minutes left we're gonna need a bigger movie

Also I screamed so much about everyone's death and now everyone reading this after they already saw the whole thing is gonna shame me for clowning huh

The scene where Blinky is giving his goodbye speech, there are no babies and Steve has a round belly? Did he reabsorb them?? I mean I know Jim is about to un-birth them but he hasn't started yet

JUST HOW FAR BACK IS HE PLANNING TO GO

WAIT HOLD UP EXCUSE ME WHAT

Oh they did NOT just do that. I though he was just gonna go back to like, the start of the movie maybe. Not all the way

Imagine being in your early twenties with as much trauma as this kid has and having to pretend you're 16 again

Somewhere Unkar is complaining because "oh sure NOW it's a good idea"

I know Jim is wondering where Toby is because he was there before. But before, he made an entire meatloaf AND did his homework before leaving the house, so honey maybe wait a minute

For a second I thought Toby wasn't gonna be there and Jim would return to the right time. But there he is!

Alright so they're in school now, did they take the canal and just didn't mention the amulet on screen or did they pass it as if the Unbecoming episode hadn't been that traumatizing? Jim you know what happens when you ignore it

Jim maybe you're being too obvious here lmao

Soooo. Anyway. These whole past years I've rewatched this show over and over and over again are cancelled now?

OKAY AT LEAST WE SAW NANA FOR A SPLIT SECOND THAT'S IRONIC TIMING

So we get the quote again. And Trollhunter Tobias is nice. Cool. Cool AU I mean, but I don't know. I don't knowwww. I've been way too invested in everything to just accept that it never happened?? So uh. Hm. How about this.

Strickler survived because fuck you, and Toby also survived and just has scars now. Maybe a wheelchair but he's fine, also he can use the Warhammer for super speed and make it awesome once he's used to it. Archie and Charlie get freed once they rebuild the bridge (and they were playing scrabble to pass the time). Nomura is still dead because she died on screen and I can't really deny that but she's with Draal so it's okay. Everyone is traumatized but they'll be fine. NotEnrique is still babysitting 500 babies and Steve is about to bring 7 more.

In summary, I reject Groundhog Day ending but everything else was great, as long as it actually happened. It was a good movie. But you can't just cancel years of passion. Having the prospect of a million "canon AUs" sounds great for writing but at the same time nooo you can't do that he didn't have to go back THAT far HHHHH

I liked the movie. It was a great watch and a satisfying end to a franchise, but I gotta say I do not fancy the ending of it so I will from now on be in denial. I honestly feel kind of betrayed that this show was my whole life for so long, I learned every smallest fact, and they basically deleted it from existence. I know what they were going for, I think, but no thank you I will be going with my own opinion. Still gonna rewatch it a few dozen times though ✌🏻

And that concludes my live commentary that was supposed to be a small handful of notes. Feel free to shame me for my opinions. See ya!

[datingdonovan]

[11:22 AM] - college

Tsukishima’s legs are moving without his permission. It’s not that he doesn’t need to hurry up. He does... sort of. Class starts in—he checks his watch—eight minutes. But it doesn’t take eight minutes to get from his apartment to the lecture hall. He can easily walk to this side of campus in three minutes, tops.

He emerges onto the quad and he suddenly slows, opening his golden eyes wide. He takes a deep breath, like he’s come across a rare and breathtaking painting, and allows himself this sliver of something beautiful. The way the springtime sun sparkles off the puddles from the rain last night, the lush green grass from last week’s final melted snow. It’s gorgeous, sure. Enough to make anyone a little sentimental about the last few weeks of freshman year. But it’s not important. He’s scanning the landscape for something else, a flash of color that should be emerging from the student center in three... two... 

His heart jumps into his throat as he realizes what he’s doing. One long blink, a glance down at his oxfords, and he’s starting forward at a normal pace again, trying to be subtle about the way his eyes are trained on you.

Jesus, how long has it been since the semester started, five weeks? Five weeks of nothing but waiting until the next time he’d be sitting in linguistics, of all classes. Five weeks of trying to walk slow enough so that he doesn’t awkwardly catch up to you on his way to class. Five weeks of watching you cross the quad a hundred yards off, waving to your friends and loudly complaining about the early morning meetings with your club advisors. So loudly that he can hear it through his headphones. A sigh bubbles up in his chest and he holds it in, unsure of whether it’s a reaction to seeing you or an admission of defeat, an acceptance that he’s in way too deep. 

He’s sure of one thing, though—that this is the best way to see you. When you don’t know he’s there. Because when you do, you’re a little different. You’re so sensitive, always trying to read him, asking him about his interests. He tries to reason with himself that you’re really only study group partners, but it’s clear every time you speak that you’re actually trying to get to know him. You want to know him. And it’s strange, he thinks, because for some reason he wants to know you, too. Despite the fact that he rolls his eyes at the way you snort loudly at your own jokes, the way you talk non-stop to anyone who will listen. He thinks back to your study session last week, when he stood there, stiff as a board, trying not to laugh, or reprimand you, or kiss you, or something as you nonchalantly bore your heart to the kid checking out your books in the library. It’s shocking, really. Your willingness to open up. That, and the fact that even after hearing your life story a hundred times over, he still can’t quite pin you down. You have so many sides, so much to say, and it scares him, to be sure, but it makes you an enigma to him, someone he wants to study, to understand. 

But right now, when you don’t know he’s here, when you’re not talking his ear off or trying to entertain him. Right now, you’re simply beautiful. The light filtered through the trees paints your messy hair in shades of gold and your smile is nothing if not genuine, unguarded. You’re frenetic, you’re goofy, but when you reach the building and wave goodbye to your friends, there’s something else there. An inner peace, a stillness, dare he say a quiet, even as you hum to yourself on your way up the stairs. He finds himself almost smiling and tries to swallow it down as he trails you into the building, footsteps light enough that you don’t hear them until he enters the classroom behind you.

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

The bedroom down the hall

Warning: Super angsty, like next level angst, it made @sirkekselord​ cry Word count: ~1.6k Summary: After Jason’s death you know it’s time to pack up the things in his room, but will you be able to cope with all the memories and the fact that your son is really dead? (Inspired by “In the bedroom down the hall” from ‘dear Evan Hansen’)

Requested by the lovely @hubblill: Hey!Love you fics! I wonderd if I could request a super angsty batfam (batmom) story, inspirerad by the song "In the beadroom down the hall" (dear evan hansen) where batmom is packning up Jasons things after he dies and remember all the good and bad times they had. Ending with some fluff please.

The manor was cold with the absence of the little boy you'd grown to love in the last five years. You had grown to see as your son, your youngest after Dick. You weren't able to really blame Bruce, he was your husband after all, but at the same time, you weren't able to look into his eyes, let alone sleep in the same bed with him. It just hurt too much. It had been two months now and you still expected Jay to come through the door and fall into your arms after school. But he never did. He would never again. "Mistress Wayne," Alfred's voice made you look up from the book you had thoughtlessly picked up, not realizing what it was, only to recognize the cover of the book you had always read to Jason when he couldn't sleep when he was younger when you tried to put it back on the shelf, "I think it's time, I've already placed the boxes in front of the door." He didn't need to say explicitly what he meant, you already knew, you already dreaded it. Jason's room had been closed, left the way it was, ever since the night you found out he died. Back then you had spent the whole night kneeling at his bed, crying for all the days he'd never have, all the experiences he would never make. Bruce tried to get you out, but you couldn't even bear to be in the same room as him and, even though he was hurting too, he loved you too much to intervene, instead deciding to give you space and time to grieve. The next morning you locked the door and put the key around your neck, you couldn't stand the thought of changing it, even though you knew, deep inside, that it wouldn't be used again. You had played with the thought of letting it just stay closed, gather dust until you were ready to face the fact that you had lost your son, but Alfred made you try to understand that you'd never get to that point if you'd literally lock your feelings away. So you just nodded, eyes void of emotions after days and nights that you spent crying, and turned around to go to the place that became the center of everything you had hoped would never happen. You stood in front of his bedroom quicker than you had expected. It was the very last room in the hallway that had been dedicated to your children, Dick's room that was also long left empty only a few doors away. A pained smile made its way onto your face when your eyes landed on the lettering that Jason had carved into it when he finally felt home 'Jason's room! Keep out!' and a bit smaller under it stood 'Except mom!' that he had added when your mother-son bond got as strong as it had been for the rest of the five years you had together. Only five years... You swallowed the lump in your throat and closed your eyes for a second, trying to keep the tears from streaming just a little bit longer, before picking up one of the boxes and opening the door, before you could change your mind. 

You tried to ignore your surrounding as best as you could, knowing that if you'd focus too much on anything you'd break down again, and made your way over to the closet that stood beside his bed and slowly opened it. The beginning was easy. It was shirts that he wore every day that laid perfectly folded in their place, they made you smile a bit, thinking about how they all seemed to be the same shirt in different colours and with sometimes a pattern on it. But then your hands landed on a deep grey crocheted sweater. You remembered like yesterday how you started to try your hand at crocheting when the stress of Dick leaving and the new cute kid going out fighting with your husband got a bit too much. The sweater was the first thing you made that you dared to show anyone and when it turned out to somewhat be the size of Jason you couldn't help but give it to him. He always complained about it, saying that the fabric was just a horrible choice and that the arms got tighter at the end. You just shrugged and laughed that maybe crocheting wasn't your strong suit after all and that he could feel free to throw it away whenever he wanted. You were sure that he'd thrown it into the trash the same day, but here it was. In your hands. He had kept it. The first tears started welling up in your eyes and you couldn't help but pressing it to your body as if Jason was still in it... but it was just a thought, the ghost of a hope that you started to lose. You finally looked around the room. Your eyes were drawn to the superman nightlight that was plugged into the wall beside the door, you had bought it for him as a joke, but somehow he never wanted to take it off again. You only found out that he wasn't too fond of being alone in the dark when the lightbulb inside it broke and he made his way to your and Bruce's bedroom, asking you if you could fix it. You had promised he would never see it break again, but you had never known that it would be because of such a gruesome circumstance. Then your gaze landed on his bedside table and you were like in a trance when you sat down on the bad and opened its drawer, your breath hitching when you saw the broken picture frame laying inside it. It was a picture of you, him and Bruce on his birthday. You looked so happy, but it seemed like a distant memory now, something from a place that was destroyed by a blizzard of change. You traced the cracks in the frame and of the fragments of glass and you couldn't stop your brain from wandering to the evening when it was broken like that. You couldn't quite remember why, but you had forbidden him from joining patrol that night and he was enraged by that. He screamed at you, shouted that he heated you and that you weren't his real mother, but instead of sitting him down and explaining that you were just worried for him and that you knew he didn't mean it, you screamed back... You'll regret saying that... One day I might not be here to care about you anymore, what's then?... Stop acting so childish... Then he threw the picture at the wall and you left the room, telling him that if he thought he knew everything so much better than you that he should make is own decisions... You weren't sure when you started crying and sobbing, you hadn't even noticed your finger getting pierced by the shards of glass and blood dripping onto the picture beside your tears. The hairs on your neck began raising and your hearts started beating when you thought that it was Jason who stood in the doorway, but when you looked up it was Bruce who looked at you worried, with tears of his own welling up in his eyes.   You started to break down and, you didn't know how, but soon you were clutching onto Bruce, crying into his chest. "I-I can't do this," you sobbed, "I'm sorry, I just can-can't." Your voice was broken and cracked and you felt like there was just a heavy brick of ice where your heart had been. "It's okay," Bruce whispered into your hair, but you could hear that he was crying too, "We don't have to.."

Your head was arching at the screaming match that was happening in your living room between Bruce and Tim, a useless fight that both would have forgotten by tomorrow, and you decided that it wasn't worth your evening. You were walking towards your room when something caught your eye in the corridor that you hadn't entered for years. You couldn't believe your eyes. Jason's door was wide open, even though the key was still hanging around your neck, never having left its place. Whatever took over you at that moment was something that you couldn't explain, but instead of calling for your husband to investigate, your blood rushed through your ears as you warily walked over to the room. When you stood in the door your gaze landed on the figure that was standing in front of the commode that was decorated with pictures of your late son and the rest of your family (mainly you, Alfred and Bruce). The person, seemingly a man, was towering at around the same height as Bruce. "Who are you?" you breathed out in a whisper, something about the man was off. He turned to you in surprise, but even though he was taller, more muscular, older and now had a white streak in his black hair, you'd recognize these blue eyes everywhere. "Jason?" you whispered with tears in your eyes as you walked closer to him, while he just stood there like a statue. "Is it really you?" You raised your hand to his cheek and stroked over it. You weren't quite sure if the look in his eyes was one of anger or one of sadness, but you didn't know if you cared. As soon as your heart was sure that it was really your little Jason, you embraced him as tight as you could, feeling like he could disappear any second again. Sobs were shaking your body, but soon you felt his arms around you, hugging you just as tight. "It's me mommy, I'm back. It's really me..."

[captainseaweedbrains]

The Dance of the Color Guard, Op. 64 Ch. 4

Katniss and Peeta used to be best friends when they were kids, but now in high school, they're barely on speaking terms. It isn't until they are forced together as the titular star-crossed lovers for their marching band's field show that they will have to face their past mistakes and try to get along if they ever hope of defeating the notorious Capitol Height's Imperial Marching Crusaders in competition.

It's all about winning and if that means pretending to be in love with Peeta Mellark, so be it.

A/N: Thank you to @rosegardeninwinter​ for editing and helping push me to finish! You are the best and any mistakes found are mine. :) 

Start at the beginning on Ao3: X

Ch. 4 Ao3: X

June

“Peeta really isn’t that bad,” Madge said for what felt like the millionth time. Katniss rolled her eyes and flipped the page of her magazine. Ever since learning that Peeta was going to be the Romeo to Katniss’ Juliet, Madge had been defending him every chance she got. “He’s really not. And he’s so smart, Katniss. Picks up on things real quickly. So all this moping around you’ve been doing all week is stupid.”

Katniss frowned and shoved her sunglasses further up her nose, preferring the screams of the children running around them on the pool deck to Madge defending Peeta Mellark to her once again. Was she being overly dramatic about this? Maybe. Was Madge right that Peeta wasn’t as bad as she made him out to be? Perhaps. But it still sucked and she couldn’t stop complaining about it.

“I know you’re Team Peeta,” she sighed, “but would it kill you to see things from my perspective just this once? Isn’t that what girl friends are supposed to do? Side with their other girl friends?”

“Maybe if you were right about him being a bad person, I would,” Madge sniffed, picking up her own gossip magazine to flip through. “But as of right now, you’ve provided me no evidence in support of your claim.” It was times like these Katniss wished her friend wasn’t the daughter of a prestigious lawyer.

“Gale sides with me,” she argued, pointing at her tall friend standing in line between two twelve-year-old kids for their slushies. “Doesn’t that count for anything on my behalf?”

“Gale’s an idiot.”

“An idiot you’re dating.” Madge stuck her tongue out at that, unable to refute her long-standing relationship with Gale and Katniss smiled. Of all the relationships she’d seen throughout the years—and band romances had provided plenty of weird, random romances, the weirdest being Johanna Mason and Melinda “Cashmere” Hewitt—Madge and Gale’s was the only one she saw that made no sense on paper yet made complete sense in person. The spoiled rich girl with a heart of gold and the rough-around-the-edges boy from the bad part of town? She never used to buy it in the movies, thinking the concept too ridiculous, but Madge and Gale proved her wrong time and time again.

Even when they had broken up sophomore year, claiming they were just too different, Katniss was still proven wrong because they couldn’t shut up about each other—griping about how she just didn’t understand and he always has to be right and I can’t believe I lost my virginity to that, a fact Katniss could have gone her whole life not knowing. When they got back together, it was hard to say who was more thrilled about it: the happy couple or Katniss.

“Come on, Madge,” she sighed, flopping back in her lounge seat. “Why must you always be the diplomatic one?”

“Someone has to be between your impulsiveness and Gale’s anarchy attitude.

“Did someone say anarchy?” the anarchist himself joked, handing Madge her lime-flavored slushie with a kiss on the lips for a tip. He handed Katniss her watermelon one and jokingly asked where his tip was. Katniss threw her three dollars at him with a “Keep the change” rebuttal. Gale laughed and pocketed the cash, lifting Madge’s legs up and over onto his lap so he could sit.

“So what did I miss?”

Madge snorted and offered her boyfriend a sip of her slushie. “Here’s a hint: it’s Katniss’ favorite subject.”

Gale rolled his eyes and accepted the drink. “Mellark again?” He took a large sip and winced at the sudden brain freeze, handing the large cup back. “God, I’m so sick of hearing about that guy. Katniss, get over it and move on already.” Even Gale was getting sick of her talking about it? Somehow, that hit lower on the pathetic scale. Gale was her complaining companion. Her bitch buddy. The person she reserved all her annoyances for because she knew he’d have his own trivial things to complain about. Hell, their friendship was founded upon complaining, starting in 8th Grade Science when their teacher kept giving them busy work to cope with the very public scandal of his wife sleeping with their school principal. They complained about everything with each other.

And now even Gale had said enough.

Well this sucked.

“Fine,” she said, not really feeling fine about it. “I won’t talk about it anymore.” Her friends looked doubtful. “I mean it! No more talk of Peeta Mellark and how my whole summer is practically ruined because I have to have extra practices to teach him how to dance on the field. And I’m not going to talk about how that cuts into my shifts at Aunt LuLu’s store, which means my spending money is going to be next to nothing by the time school starts. So if you two ever want to do anything more fun than hanging around the school parking lot, I guess you’re shit out of luck.”

Gale smiled sweetly at Madge. “I’m so glad she’s not talking about it anymore.” Katniss scowled and gave them the middle finger, causing them both to laugh.

“I think you both are very biased over this whole thing,” Katniss said after a while. Gale and Madge didn’t say anything, too focused on tanning and summer reading homework. That didn’t seem to stop Katniss from continuing. “You’re both too friendly with him because of classes and band. He’s gotten to you.”

“One of us is biased,” Gale said, “and it’s not us. It’s you. You’ve hated him for as long as I’ve known you.”

“With good reason!” she huffed, crossing her arms. They didn’t ask her to elaborate on that, already making it clear they were done talking about Peeta Mellark and all the annoyances he brought to her life, and she hated the fact that she did want to keep talking about him. About marching band. About the whole stupid situation. But she kept her promise and kept her mouth shut. 

No one said anything further until Madge declared herself starving and Gale suggested they stuff their faces with greasy burgers and fries at Sae’s.

**********

Sae’s Diner was packed with its usual lunch crowd—men and women from the factories nearby on lunch, sitting at the worn pastel-colored counter; a couple of kids they recognized from school goofing off in the corner booth, shooting straw wrappers off the straws; and a book club filled with women in their fifties discussing some brick of a book over coffee and Sae’s famous blueberry and cream pie sitting in the center of the small diner. The old woman herself smiled warmly at them when they’d walked in, asking if they were wanting the usual. 

“You’re the best, Sae,” Gale thanked as they waved and headed to their booth next to the front door. 

As they waited for their cheeseburgers and chocolate milkshakes, Gale chatted about some war movie he and his brothers saw that sounded god awful boring, no matter how much he tried re-explaining the plot to them. Madge and Katniss rolled their eyes and told him if he wanted to see the movie again so badly, to go see it by himself. “I’m not going to the movies by myself like some weirdo,” he scoffed, taking his hands off the table as the waitress deposited their plates of food and drinks. 

“Why not?” Katniss asked, picking up a french fry to dip into her milkshake. “I do it all the time.” 

“Because you hate people.” 

“So do you.” He shrugged, not having much to argue there, and picked up his burger. 

“So what time is Trinket summoning you tomorrow?” Gale asked, changing the subject completely, and tearing into his burger. Grease dripped down his hands and Madge tossed a pile of napkins at him. He accepted with a smile and slid his side of pickles over to her, something he purposely ordered more of because he knew how much she liked them. Madge happily bit into one, her eyes gazing at him with such adoration, Katniss rolled her eyes. Their coupling was too much for her sometimes. 

“I thought you didn’t want me talking about marching band,” she said innocently enough, taking a bite into her own burger.

“I didn’t want you talking about Mellark,” he said pointedly, wagging a fry at her. “Marching band is different. Less annoying and less boy drama. So what time does Miss Cream Puff have you coming in?”

It irritated her that Gale simplified her great dislike for Peeta Mellark as mere boy drama because it was far more complicated than that, but there was no point trying to explain it to Gale. He understood a lot about her, but when it came to Peeta… Well, it was best to let him believe whatever he wanted. “Eight a.m. sharp,” she said sourly, dipping another french fry into her milkshake.

Gale winced. “That sucks. Why so early?” 

“Peeta couldn’t get out of working his afternoon shifts and it was either that or not have a single weekend off until November.” She was still bitter about the change in schedule. Originally Miss Trinket wanted them twice a week outside of color guard’s normal rehearsal times, but with Peeta’s work schedule not being as flexible as Katniss’, she’d decided to make it morning rehearsals and make those shorter, which forced them to add another day of rehearsal to make up for the cut time. Now instead of having rehearsal four times a week, Katniss had five with her weekends full of shifts at Aunt LuLu’s shop for the extra cash she desperately needed. This summer was going to blow.

“I still think you should’ve been picked for Juliet,” Katniss told Madge teasingly. “You and Gale, maybe?” she cooed. “The true star-crossed lovers of Athens Ridge.” 

Gale scowled. “I’d rather drop dead than have to deal with Trinket when she’s in choreographer mode. She’s a total tyrant.” 

“She’s not so bad once you get used to her.” 

“Tell me what you think after dealing with her for a whole season, oh captain, my captain.” 

Point taken.

Much like at the pool, they talked for a bit about things going on in their lives—Madge taking some online French class because her grades last semester weren’t great; Gale’s successful find for parts with Thom in the junkyard. Katniss didn’t say much as she munched on her burger and fries, afraid Madge would lecture her again on Peeta Mellark and her inability to let things go with him. That and she promised she was done talking about him. But outside of marching band and him, not much was going on in her life. She felt a bit pathetic about that. 

Conversation picked up when Sae came over, asking how things were doing. The three smiled at the old woman, happy to fill her in on all the small details of their lives. Sae was the unofficial grandmother of the Seam. Always there to show her support for her kiddos. Her small diner was covered with pictures of sports teams she’s sponsored over the years, pictures of her and kids dressed in dance gear, holding certificates. 

“Did you hear the news about Katniss, Sae?” Madge asked when the topic of marching band came up. Sae was always interested in that, loving watching her talented kids play as they wove around the field. “She’s going to be our Juliet this year! Isn’t that exciting?” 

Sae’s grey eyes warmed, turning to Katniss. “Is that so? Captain and the lead part?” She shook her head in astonishment, her salt and peppered colored hair coming loose from her hair tie. “You were always so talented with those flags. I’m not surprised. Who’s your Romeo?” 

“Peeta Mellark.” The name felt lodged in her throat, but thankfully, it squeezed out without too much of a squeak in her voice. 

Sae didn’t know all the kids on the west side, but she definitely knew Peeta. He would often tag along with her and her dad on their trips to the woods, stopping at the diner after for hot chocolate and pie. In fact, his picture was one of the first ones you saw coming in—Sae and six-year-old Peeta smiling at the camera, her arm around him as he proudly held up his lost baby tooth. Her dad had taken the picture, she remembered, and if the camera’s lens had shifted a little more to the right, it would have also captured five-year-old Katniss pouting on the side, upset that he kept losing his baby teeth when she’d lost none. It was a picture her gaze avoided whenever they visited Sae’s, unable to stomach the sight of an old friend turned asshole, the memory of her dad’s laughter as he took the photo. 

“Oh, Peeta,” Sae chuckled, the familiar twinkle she always got in her eyes when he was around. The old woman doted on him when they were kids and he ate up her attention like there was no tomorrow. “How is that boy? Staying out of mischief, I hope?” 

Gale and Madge looked to her with knowing smiles, wondering what she would say. Katniss cleared her throat and looked down at her half-eaten plate for a moment. “Fine, I guess. We don’t hang out anymore. You know that, Sae.” 

She did know that, but it never stopped her from asking whenever he came up. “Aye, girl, I do. I suppose you aren’t happy with Effie Trinket’s choice, then?” 

Gale snorted. “Happy? More like obsessively pissed. She hasn’t shut up about it since May.” She glared at her friend and he shrugged, popping a fry in his mouth. “What? You haven’t.” 

Sae gave one of her warm, crooked teeth smiles. “Maybe this is the push you kiddos need to kiss and make up.” Katniss’ cheeks warmed at the mention of kisses, remembering Leevy’s comment how they were so going to have sex by the end of the year. She still hadn’t fully forgiven her friend for that suggestion.

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, Sae,” she said, her voice still a little strained. “We’re just too different.”  

“Ah, well. I suppose we grow in different directions sometimes,” the woman sighed with a shake of her head. A woman from the book club table called for her and Sae gave them a parting wave and smile. “Tell Peeta ol’ Sae misses her boy and that he needs to come in more. I haven’t seen him in ages.”

Katniss pointedly avoided Gale and Madge’s amused smirks, focusing on the burger in front of her. “I’ll be sure to pass the message along,” she muttered, taking a big bite of her food to avoid continuing this conversation. She loved Sae. Thought of her like a grandmother. But there was no way in hell was she telling Peeta that. No way. Then he’d think she was gushing about him to anyone who would listen, thrilled to be his Juliet, a role many girls at school would kill for (Probably. Maybe. She thinks.), and then his stupid ego would just get bigger and he’d be even more obnoxious to deal with. No, best not to mention anything and lie next time she saw Sae. 

A small part felt guilty at that, though, because Sae was like a grandma who wanted the best for her, and Peeta too, she guessed, but again, Sae didn’t know what happened between them. And Katniss wasn’t going to fill her in on their broken history six years too late. 

Her phone next to her plate vibrated, signifying a text message just came in. Wiping her greasy hands, Katniss frowned, picking up her phone. Who was texting her? Everyone who’d text her was either sitting right across from her or were busy at work or camp. The little text message lit up at her touch, showing it was from an unknown number, and her frown turned into a scowl as she read it. 

Hey!!!!!!!!!1!1111!!!!!!! the message read with a thousand typo-filled exclamation marks. God, who text like that? Trinket gave me ur ######## Hope thats cool. Thought Id give mine!!!!!!!111111 🤗 Ill see u  Mon dearest Juliet ❤️❤️❤️❤️!!!!!!!!!!!!111!😘😘😘😘!!!111!!!!!! 

For the briefest of seconds, Katniss swore her vision blacked out. One moment she was staring at her phone. The next, darkness. Like her brain couldn’t process the simple text on her phone and chose to shut down instead. When her vision cleared, the message was still there, glaring brightly at her with those thousand exclamation/number marks. 

Peeta Mellark texted her. He had her number.

         Her stomach churned and now she feared that what her mother always warned about Sae’s greasy food would come true now and she’d throw it all up. 

Peeta Mellark texted her. It was truly official. He had her number and she had his and they were partners now. If she had any doubts about this whole thing before—as if she had dreamt the last four weeks of her life—they were wiped clean now. Replaced with this typo-filled text message from the very boy who hurt her. 

“You okay?” Madge asked.

Katniss nodded and clicked out of the message, tossing the phone into her bag. She’d deal with it later.